A Bloody Bloody Mess In The Wild Wild West

by Justin Bienvenue

  Jones had come from California a few weeks prior and figured going into Mexico and stealing a few thousand would be easy, but he underestimated it dearly. He settled into town so the folks would grow accustomed to him.

  “Ah, Javier my friend what brings you down today?” the teller asked. “Sorry to say amigo but I’m going to have to ask you to give me all the money you got stored back there and kindly hand it over or Im gonna have to put a bullet in that head of yours,” Javier politely responded.

  “Javier, I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?”

  “Oh, save me the sappy crap,” he said. “I came to this god forsaken shithole for one reason only to make right of what’s mine. You thought I was righteous, did ya? Sorry to break it to ya but I’m as bad as they come. Now I’m giving you a chance amigo, hand over the money or Im gonna kill you where you stand.”

  Just as Javier was making his threat, two law men walk in from behind, only to notice Javier sticking the place up. The teller looked past Javier and over by the lawmen but Javier sees his glance and turns around to see the men.

  “Ah, gentlemen, I was just making a quick transaction. I don’t suppose you’re here to stop me?” Javier asks.

  “Don’t you move you son of a bitch! I had a feeling about you since you came into town. My suspicions were right. Now slide the gun over and step away,” the first lawmen said.

  “Do what they ask, Javier. Please!” said the teller.

  “Here’s the problem guys. I don’t have me any money yet and you two are in my way.” “Drop the damn gun Jones or we’re gonna shoot you dead!”

  Jones, while still pointing the gun at the teller, reached in with his other hand to pull out his .45 caliber and shot both men. Then he shot the teller in the head before going behind the booth to avoid getting shot himself.

  “Shit! I’ve been shot.” One of the law men exclaims in pain.

  “Bastard had another gun...shit…he killed the teller,” he adds. “Jones now you got blood on your hands so if you take that money, you’re gonna have two charges on you. Just surrender before this gets ugly.”

  “This coming from two guys with holes in their stomachs and not much time to live. I hardly think you’re gonna make me do a damn thing,” he says back. Jones then goes into the back room and fills his bag with money. He then slides back under the booth and looks around to the two men.

  “I got the money, now you two are gonna end up dead, unfortunately, unless you let me walk.”

  “Jones, we ain’t letting you leave with that money.” Before either of the men could say another word, Jones leaps onto the wood counter with both guns drawn and fires a few more shots into their stomachs. Unable to react, both men are finished off and collapse to the floor from their knees. He puts one of his guns back into its holster and picks up the bag of money with his now empty hand.

  “You damn fools. I told you I was leaving with my money and a couple killings,” Jones says as he laughs. “Well that’s what I call a fine bonus.”

  Jones then walks out of the bank with the money and a gun drawn, ready for anyone else who may come along. Much to his surprise, Jones notices no one with guns outside waiting for him, just a few onlookers who now flee in terror when they see him come out.

  “Hmm,” Jones says to himself. “This is too easy.” He then walks down the road to the beginning of a hill where his horse is waiting for him tied to a wooden fence.

  “Ay ole boy, Got me the money and we’re gonna be off, yes sir.” Just as Javier attempts to get on his horse, a young man emerges from the side of the road. A young man no older than twenty who clearly looks like he’s never held a gun in his life let alone fired one.

  “Now Mister don’t you take another step onto that horse. I know what you did back there and I can’t much speak for anyone else but I sure as heck ain’t gonna let you get away,” the young man says.

  “I ain't gotta explain myself or shit to you boy and I ain’t much for talkin anymore,” Jones says. He quickly draws his gun to shoot the man but not before he shoots Javier in the knee.

  “Ahh dammit!” Javier shouts. He then points his gun again and fires back at the man, shooting him in the chest and then shooting him again until the man falls back. With the young man now dead, Javier tended to his wounded knee.

  “Great! Just great, little shit got me right in the knee. Well ole boy, Im gonna have to come back for you. I can’t very much jump on ya with one knee,” he said to his horse. Jones, now limping, walks back into town to get his wound fixed. He looks around for a while until he comes to the saloon. Everyone inside looks over at Jones walking in with his bloody knee.

  “Get me a damn rag and some bandages,” he yells to the bartender. “Javier, ain’t it? Why exactly are you dripping blood on my floor?” the bartender asked. Before Javier could say a word a man at a table exclaims, “He’s prolly why them um officers ran outta here. Yup . . . bet anything on it. Ain’t that right friend?”

  Everyone was now wide eyed and ready to draw their guns as Javier ran with all he could on one knee over to the back of the bar. This is where the chaos begins. Soon shots are being fired into the bar counter and into tables. Bottles upon bottles of whiskey are breaking everywhere. “Dammit Javier, I don’t give a shit why you’re bleeding and I don’t know if you did in fact kill them damn law men but I ain’t gonna have you be the reason my bar’s getting shot up. Now go into the back. There’s a rag on the door and help yourself to the water. I’m giving you five minutes. If you’re not gone by then you aint gonna have to worry bout tending that wound.” While Javier is in the backroom of the bar, outside in the bar area men are shooting each other. The bartender then pulls out his shotgun and whistles.

  “Alright guys get the hell out of my bar. You’ve made a mess of this place.” And what a mess it was. There were broken bottles, chairs and tables along with bodies hanging over the tables and blood splattered against the walls.

  “One guy comes in here and you think that gives you the right to go on a massive shooting spree?! Look at my bar! It’s destroyed! Get out before you’re all dead! Out! OUT!” The bartender yells.

  In the back room, while this is all going along, Javier is cleaning his wound and fighting through the pain. He takes a bottle of whiskey and pours it on his knee to clean the wound as well as taking a few gulps after.

  “Gahh! Son of a bitch!” he screams. After he’s done, he ties two bandages around his wounded knee. He then walks out the backdoor to leave just as the bartender comes in. Javier then begins to make his way back to his horse. He walks behind the buildings to avoid being spotted and getting into another altercation with a towns person. As he makes his way to his horse, he picks up the money and puts it on the front of the horse right before the saddle.

  Jones, with slightly less pain, leaps up onto his horse and rides his way out of Mexico into Texas to see his brother. Javier Jones was born in Mexico. His father was a slave trader who was killed in an altercation while loading slaves into a wagon. One day, a bunch of bulls were let out near the passing, trampling him to death. Javier was six when it happened. His mother was a former saloon girl. Javier also has an older brother named Juan who lives in Texas.

  While Juan wasn’t the bad one and wanted to make something of himself, he eventually moved to Texas when his family moved to California. Juan told Javier to stop by and see him but Javier, of course, had to make a stop back home first. After about five miles, Javier arrived in Texas. His brother’s men were scattered all about. Juan was the owner of a good chunk of land. While the land was legit, how someone such as himself acquired it was always a guess.

  “Mr. Jones?” asked a strange man.

  “Yeah?”

  “I work for your brother and he sent me to come for you. The name’s Joey Morrey.” “I see,” says Jones. “My brother is too busy to meet me himself?”

  “Nah. He’s just busy with getting some new property, you know how that is,” says Joey. “Yeah I guess,” Jo
nes says back.

  “What happened to your knee there?”

  “Oh this? Got shot at by some punk tryna make a name for himself, but he got it worse though.”

  “Oh, you get him in a better spot?” Joey asks. “A better spot alright, he’s dead.”

  “Oh! Wow.” Joey looks surprised.

  “What? That surprises you? My brother must not talk of me much, I take it,” Jones says. “No, he does. It’s just, I mean, I dunno I never took someone for shooting someone else over nothing,” Joey replies.

  “It wasn’t over nothing I had just…you know what forget it. I don’t gotta explain myself to you.” “Sure, suit yourself Javier. We should probably get going. Your brother should be back from his meeting.” Joey and Javier then got onto their horses and onto the road to meet with Javier’s brother Juan. “Hey Javier, your horse got a name? Joey asks him.

  “A name?”

  “Yeah, you know like Wildwind or Squanto?”

  “Do I look like a goddamn Indian to you, boy?” Javier says back to his question. “Anyway, I never gave it much thought. I suppose it could use a name. I think I’ll call him Buddy. After all, that’s what he is to me.” Joey laughs upon hearing this.

  “The hell you laughing at? You think that’s funny?” “Well no, it’s just my uncle Rudy has a dog named Buddy, that’s all.” Javier just looks at him with a glaring stare then shaking his head.

  “Well let’s get a damn move on already. I’m sure my brother ain't gonna wait around for me forever.” With that, they continued onto the road a few more miles until reaching Juan’s place. It was a big ranch with two giant barns on each side of the land along with a horse stable on the right side and finally a decent sized house in the center where Juan resides. Juan was outside with his men tending the horses when Javier and Joey came up the path.

  “Well, I’ll be damned! If it isn’t my little trouble making brother!” Juan says. “Come here you crazy bastard!” Juan hugs his brother in delight.

  “Long time, Juan. Long time,” Javier says to him. “I’ll say. You should have been down here a few years back but it’s still good, long’s you’re here now. I’d ask if you came straight from California but I already know that wouldn’t be true.” Juan gets right to the point, something he and his brother always shared.

  “Oh yeah?” Javier asks him. “And how you know that?” “Come on little brother, you don’t think I have men in Mexico? Hell I think half of them were killed in that scuffle in the bar you started.”

  “Now I just went looking for aid. They were the ones who pulled out their guns like drunk wild men. I didn’t kill any of your men, I assure you,” Javier says to him.

  Juan just laughs. “I wouldn’t care if ya did. Half of em were good for nothing anyway. I can say the same here for Joey. Dumber than a damn ox if you ask me.”

  Joey, staring off into space, looks over to them with a dumb look on his face.

  “Anyway, little brother, that seems to be a lot of money you got there. Exactly what were you planning on doing with it?” Juan asks him.

  “Well I was gonna keep it to my lonesome and maybe invest a bit in your businesses you got brewing here if that’s right with you?” Javier asks.

  “Shoot Javier, you looking to go righteous?” “Me? Oh no that’s all you dear brother. I am merely asking if I may shine to prosperity like you. Even I like to clean my hands every once in a while,” Javier says as he laughs.

  “Well there ain’t much you’d like but, come to think about it, I do have something you might like. In fact it’s the meeting I had today which is why I sent Joey for you.”

  “Oh? What is it?” Javier asks. “Oil,” Juan says back. “One hundred percent pure fresher then the ocean oil. I have claimed a bit here myself already and was going to add but I’d be more than happy to give you the share,” Juan tells him.

  “Oil huh? I ain’t got the first clue about it,” Javier tells him back. “Not much to know except where it is. As long as you get people, you’re pretty much set. Only deal is it’s over in Mississippi. Small town called Toomswood.”

  “Mississippi huh?”

  “Well you know, you’re the only person I trust other than my horse!” Javier laughs.

  “If you say it’s a good deal then, shit, I’m in.” “Great!” Juan says back. “I’ll have one of my men shoot over to the big Texan I met with and he’ll sort it out with him.”

  “What exactly would I have to do?” Javier asks. “Well, much as I can figure, the town ain’t even know they’re sittin’ on oil. Now it’s not lucrative like it is here but enough to live by. It’s a small town. I ain’t been there myself but Texan fella tells me people down there don’t got much pride or moral codes. They lost a lot of it after the war. I’ll give you the contract for the land. You just go down there, state your claim and get started. It sort of works itself when you get people.”

  “I don’t got any men,” Javier tells him. “All my boys were killed in the war and back in Mexico my first week. My best guy Salvador got gutted good, it bout made me sick.”

  “Oh shit, I’m sorry Javier,” Juan says. “Well, no worries. I’ll give you a few guys and you know what? Take Joey here with ya.” “Huh?” Joey says.

  “You’re going with Javier to Toomswood. He needs workers for that oil rig they got.” “But what about helping you out boss?” Joey asks again.

  “Believe me Joey you’d do me a lot more help leaving than staying here.”

  Joey just looks down. “You finish up with the horses and meet me and Javier in the house,” Juan says to Joey. Juan and Javier then go inside Juan’s place. They reminisced about their early days but mainly talk about the war which neither of them served but knew people who did. They also talked much of the opportunity Javier now had in Toomswood.

  Juan sorted out all the details for him and assured Javier it was a win, win deal, and it was. Javier left two days later for Toomswood with Joey Morrey and four other men. When they arrived, Javier was back to his slick corrupt ways in no time.

  Fitting in with the town and making them think he was nice was easy but it didn’t take long for him to show them his true intentions. Since he had claim and deed to the land, no one in town could run him out or tell him off. If anything, he could tell them off and run them out, which of course is exactly what he did.

  Javier began making a name for himself in the town. He was known as an outlaw and cheap, no good thief. It was during this time that he also would come to be known as something else. During a search for oil, Joey dug up a pile of bones. “Hey boss come here and check this out,” Joey yells.

  “You find some oil?” Javier asks. “No, I found a pile of bones here. Looks like someone else was looking for some too.”

  “You idiot! I’m sure they’re tons of bones around here. Don’t keep callin’ me over every time you find em.” Javier then picks up some of the bones in his hand and examines them.

  “Hmm,” he says to himself. He then tells Joey to get back to work. In the mean time, Javier goes to his quarters and returns an hour later wearing a necklace made of the bones he had picked up earlier.

  “You find anything Joey?” he asks. “Nope, nothing yet boss or should I say Bones Jones!” Joey laughs. Javier was ready to hit him but laughed with him instead.

  “Alright Joey get back to work.”

  “Alright boss,” Joey says.

  “Oh and Joey? From now on call me Bones.”

  Chapter 5 The Briefing

  “Alright everybody shut the hell up,” Emerson Shaw yelled across the room to everyone bickering and arguing. “Now I know everyone has questions and is dying to get their two cents in but if we all just sit down and relax we can get started. First order of Busin . . .”

  “Wait a second,” says another man, sitting across from Shaw. “Just who in the hell made you the man of demands ‘round here, hmm? Last I checked I called this meeting so we could, one put a stop to that slick bastard Javier Jones and two elect u
s a new Sheriff since your beloved father tragically passed,” the man adds.

  “I apologize Captain Wallace. I was just getting the attention of this room and I think we all want a solution and a new sheriff and on behalf of my father, I nominate myself,” Shaw says.

  “Ha! You would. But just cause you’re your daddy’s son doesn’t mean you’re assured next in line,” Wallace says back. “In fact, since you’re gonna nominate yourself, I nominate myself, Captain Gervis Wallace anyone second that?”

  The crowd in the room begins exclaiming and bickering back and forth yet again.

  “Okay, quiet down everyone,” Emerson says. “Now let’s make this official. Is there anyone else who wishes to become Sheriff? Who sees themselves fit for keeping this town in line?” Shaw laughs, as even he finds this statement to be humorous. Out of everyone in the room besides Emerson and Capt. Wallace, only one other man raises his hand. Henry Dugan the deputy said, “While I know some of you may think I don’t quite look the part, no one else here besides Emerson knew how Calvin Shaw worked and I assure you I am right for the job.”

  Henry Dugan was right when he said he didn’t look the part. Tall and skinny framed man whose clothes seemed big on him. He was the type that looked wimpy but his skills would surprise even the biggest man in town. Everyone around the room quietly conversed in chatter and there were many nods of approval by the statement of Henry Dugan.

  A member of the crowd then says, “Alright, you three stand over by the wall and we will get this underway.”

  So it went as Emerson Shaw, Captain Gervis Wallace and Deputy Henry Dugan were the candidates to become the next Sheriff of Toomswood. There was no need for speeches as every man up for nominations credentials were already known.

  “All the people who think Emerson should be the next sheriff raise your hand.” It was then that eight people raised their hands.