by Danny Hogan
‘You never see a crusty’un before?’ I called to Alice, knowing at any minute we were going to be overrun.
‘No, there isn’t mu…’
‘Grab the 12 gauge and get ready, ’cos they’re coming, I guarantee you that.’
I was glad she did what she was told just as the dirty runts appeared scurrying from behind walls, machinery, you name it. I was even gladder when I saw that she could shoot, though she sure did make some funny faces doing it. It was a bit like, at any moment, she was going to throw the shotgun down, fold her arms and refuse to play anymore.
That said, Alice sure was making out that gunning down these gibbering freaks was some kind of chore but, for me, it was kind of funny: them all jumping at us whooping and squawking like they want to start some shit, and then their reaction at taking a .44 slug from a yard away. Hilarious. As long as you’re armed enough it really is just a turkey shoot with crusty’uns. I got one right in his nekkid balls and they blew apart like crushed berries. That had the bastard whooping all right.
Alice didn’t seem to find any mirth when she blew the face off one and he ran off into the brush faceless, arms flapping around crazily like he wanted to take off and join the buzzards. I nearly dropped my carbine with laughter. I moved so me and her were back to back with the barking mule just next to us.
‘Let me know when you need to…’
‘I’m reloading,’ she said, and started to fill the empty tube of her shotgun with cartridges. I covered her, shooting three of ’em dead as can be. As soon as she was done she got one in the chamber and put it into a crusty’un’s chest, sending him sprawling back all limbs and howls into the thereafter. Not bad. Crusty’uns are so dumb, ugly and stanky that killing ’em is a mercy indeed.
I needed to reload, but I was a pro-gunfighter. I didn’t need back up. With only eight of the bastards left I dropped the Marlin, brought out Comeuppance and brought five of them the pain. My six-gun roared like thunder as I smacked the hammer back with the palm of my hand five times and loosed a rebel yell. Alice managed to off the other three, albeit like a grand dame mopping up dogshit.
‘Well that was fun,’ I said, picking up the Marlin and going for a high five.
‘I guess,’ said Alice, lightly tapping the palm of my hand and looking as if she had eaten something that had not agreed with her. Jesus.
‘Whatever you do don’t touch ’em. They ain’t got anything we want; you can trust me on that.’
‘Oh, don’t worry, I wasn’t intending to.’
I looked around at the corpses as I reloaded my guns.
‘Jezebel?’
‘Yeah?’
‘You really enjoy shooting and killing, don’t’ you?’
‘Yep.’
Didn’t she just let out a sigh at that.
‘Hey, relax. Just the unrighteous and the wrongful,’ I said. ‘And of course crusty’uns,’ I added. ‘What’s the problem anyways? Ain’t that the whole reason you needed me to escort you?’ Just like her daddy, no pleasing this one.
‘Yeah, I just didn’t figure on you enjoying it so much. Besides, what makes someone unrighteous in your eyes?’
Heh heh, bet she thought I didn’t have an answer to that.
‘Those that affect upon other people’s lives in a negative way. Usually for their own benefit or entertainment. There you go,’ I replied, mighty pleased with myself.
‘But does this person deserve to get killed for this for example: say someone accidentally ran over your kid with their doggy cart. That would be affecting you negatively, though it was an accident. Should they be killed for that?’
‘Not at all, a good beating will suffice.’
‘Oh come on.’
‘Unless the driver of the doggy atoned for what he done. If you do something that affects someone else negatively without meaning to, or by mistake...’
‘Like we all do from time to time.’
‘…presactly, then you have to atone for it. I do that all the time when I fuck up.’
‘Oh yeah, well what exactly do you do to atone for stuff?’
‘Well, it depends on what you did. But the main thing is to be sincerely sorry and regretful and be prepared to take your medicine without arguing.’
‘Are you sure you do that?’
‘Alice, I am the most righteous person you will ever meet.’ Bah.
Alice just looked like I had said something stupid. Well I wasn’t worried. She would learn, I was sure. However it did nag me that I was not getting the respect that I deserved from this’un. Next thing she snickered to herself, which sure got my attention, and seemed to be fiddling with something in her pocket with her right hand. She smiled at me and passed what turned out to be a hunk of cornbread.
‘Here,’ she said, as she passed it to me. ‘Although I don’t agree with you, I dig that you really believe your own bullshit.’
‘Thankee,’ I said, grabbing the cornbread and shoving it in my yap with both hands before she had a chance to change her mind. Alice seemed to find this even more amusing.
I should have been grateful. Why lord, I do so regret it now, but my heart was set upon devilment. Seeing Alice amongst those dead crusty’uns provided too good an opportunity to pass up. One time I had looked under the hood of a crusty’un, out of curiosity, and I wasn’t able to keep anything down for a week.
And, so it was, little old bitch as I was, I calls Alice over and: ‘Say, have a peak at this would ya.’
15
It was getting real dark when we saw the lights of Bastrop looming out along the trail. We had not spoken to each other for a while, though I still had Alice’s scream in my ears from back when she unwittingly beheld the face of the crusty’un, thanks to me.
The water had become too warm to refresh and I was not even managing to get much pleasure out of my chew.
The rhythmic jingle of our mule and our laboured breath was the only sounds we made as we came upon the orange glow of that outpost.
Two roughs, in buckskins and combats, stood guard at a gate made of sandbags and corrugated metal. They were, apparently, there to keep bandits and other horrors out with an assault rifle and a light machine gun.
Me, Alice and the mule must have looked like pitiful apparitions as they held the gate open for us all gentlemanly like, with no challenge.
‘See much action tonight boys?’ I mumbled. It was then that I became aware of how painfully dry my throat was.
‘Been quiet tonight, ma’am.’
‘Anywhere to get a drink and bed around here?’ I asked, as I caught sight of Alice in the light for the first time in ages. Christ, she was a sorrowful sight. I made the drinky gesture with my hand and she nodded with what looked like the last of her strength.
‘Up Main Street on the left, you’ll come to Flanagan’s.’
Main Street, Bastrop was a cute little place all right. Crumbling old time houses stooped each side of the thoroughfare. The bawdy colours they were once painted still showed in places, either by resistant smears or tough looking flakes. Drunken travellers staggered around the street arm in arm. Some just looked at us with a thousand-yard stares from faces, black with dirt, as they fumbled with tabacci or the budget looking women that were trading that night.
Flanagan’s stuck out somewhat as it was fairly festooned with lights and flickering candles housed in glass walled boxes. It had benefited from a fresh lick of dark green paint, with gold trim. Flashy horned goblins in gold stood on any available corner, wielding massive dicks and leering at us.
Just opposite was the livery where Alice handed charge of our mule over to some mealy looking scoundrel for a couple of bits.
The place was no where near as busy as the façade had promised: just a load of dark wood furnishings, candles in bottles, an old fella and a couple of young’uns our age sat around a baize topped table playing Faro.
The bar was patrolled by a big, fat good ol’ boy who seemed to find humour in everything.
‘Woo!
So that’s what it feels like walking thirty miles in a day,’ I declared loudly, tugging my bandanna off and whipping the dust out of it.
‘You ladies happened by at the right moment. It’s ladies’ night here at Flanagan’s and this round is on me,’ said the good ol’ boy, pouring us a couple of stiff little bastards.
I sat down on a barstool and started sipping but ended up throwing it back in one. Alice sat down next to me and rested her head on the bar, breathing heavily.
‘Another one of those, please pa,’ I said, throwing the glass down on the counter. It was poured good and quick. ‘How come it’s so quiet? I was expecting it to be plumb stuck with folks coming and going.’
‘Well, here’s the thing,’ began Fatso with a girlish giggle, ‘it’s many the people that hang around those agencies and talk of taking the trail to find their fortune an what not. Be it east, west, north or danged south. But the truth of the matter is, it’s only a few that have the guts to actually do it, like yourselves.’ He got to polishing some of his glasses. ‘I reckon that’ll change though when them in Houston start enforcing some of that law they talking about. It’ll be a regular resort around here I reckon.’
‘What about a couple of beds for these two courageous travellers you see before you then, huh?’ I asked.
The men playing Faro let out a mean chuckle and Fat Bastard was unable to resist joining in.
‘Now, now,’ says I, using the very last of my energy to prepare. ‘As fine as I am sure you gentlemen believe yourselves to be…’
I drew Comeuppance and held her aloft, ‘… we just done walked thirty miles and are in no mood for no fucking.’ I really weren’t neither and, besides, my legs would never forgive me. ‘Perhaps if ya’ll are real lucky, and if we’re still here, tomorrow night then maybe.’
Alice raised her weary head and mumbled, ‘Huh, what?’
‘But, tonight, ya’ll gonna be gentlemen and leave us be, OK?’ I wiggled my .44 in my mitt to accentuate my point.
‘There’s a lovely suite upstairs, with a sturdy lock on the door, may I add. Yours for twenty-five bits for the night,’ Fatass chuckled.
After throwing back a couple of fingers of homebrew, on the house for the low behaviour we had endured, we slowly commenced our climb of the stairs. Each step was stiff and plenty painful. I could hear the men chuckling at our efforts but I was just too damned tired to holler back abuse at them. The experience was made doubly tough ’cos we were carrying two bags of valuables and our rifles each.
The suite turned out to be a fair sized room with nothing but a bed in it, but I guess that’s all we needed.
I dumped my bags and my carbine down and it made a loud clatter as it hit the floor. With that I dumped myself on the bed. Alice locked the door behind us, dropped her gear and slumped beside me. I thought about eating, as I always do, but I just didn’t have the energy. I looked up at the ceiling mumbled: ‘By god,’ and that was that.
16
When my eyes fluttered open again the room was awash with harsh sunlight. I felt OK for all of two seconds and then I tried to move my legs just an inch. It was like they had given out. Just two useless limbs doing nothing other than sending tearing pain to the rest of me. I tried to inspect the damage as best as I could but every movement brought new agony with it. My thighs had totally seized and felt like lumps of steel. My beautiful calves were like tight balls of muscle and looked like they’d scream if they could. And my head? Damn felt like I had been drinking for two weeks solid when I only had a few shots last night. Not fair at all.
Alice was already up and kneeling on the floor with her back to me, though I could see she was hunched over her bags and fidgeting with their contents.
‘Ain’t you hurting?’ just talking caused muscles I never knew I had to strain and tear. I clutched my poor legs and cried: ‘God damn it.’
‘A little stiff, yeah.’ Her face wrinkled up like she had detected some mildly inclement weather.
‘A little stiff? I’m telling you I’m crippled. You’re gonna have to leave me here.’ I winced and let out a pathetic sob as I clutched my right thigh.
‘Relax, you’ll get used to it. I once walked from Hobbs to Alamogordo with a farm train, when the trade routes opened up.’
‘Well bully for you, guess you don’t need me then, seeing as ya’ll experienced and shit. Be seeing you. Adios.’ I rolled over to try and get some comfort but I did not find any at all. The pain caused me to sit bolt upright and whimper, the sudden effort of this bringing its own special kind of torture.
‘Oh come on, Jezebel. Once you start shifting that ass of yours you’ll be fine in no time. Seriously.’ Then, goddammit, she looked at me like she was awful proud of herself. I saw for why as she dangled it in her hand.
‘Get up and come with me right now Jezebel or I’ll be taking Come…’ she stopped to read the inscription, ‘…Comeuppance? I’ll be taking Comeuppance with me.’
For no good reason at all I felt my empty holster, just to be sure, like it weren’t plain enough already. Oh god, I had to give it to her, she was a wily one this’un.
I heaved me useless legs over the side of the bed in a half-assed swinging motion, until my feet were on the floor. My feet seemed to have swole-up and stung as they made contact with the cold wood. I heaved myself up with my arms. Dammit, if I wasn’t really crippled I don’t know what is.
I winced and huffed with every step as I reluctantly made my way over to the grinning bitch.
‘Give it here.’
‘You promise to come with me and quit your whining,’ she said, pulling my .44 away from my grasp.
‘Yeah, yeah.’ I said. Bravo, she had me beat.
‘That gun of yours sure is heavy.’
I took Comeuppance from her and holstered it with a fancy twirl; I should have pointed it at her and made her piss her pants. Instead I went with: ‘That’s the second time you done took my gun from me. There will not be a third.’
If I said it took less than ten minutes to walk the single one storey staircase, I would be lying to you outright. My legs would not bend without a fight and I sure must have looked a sight, grimacing like frog all the way down.
Fat Bastard had been replaced by a scrawny version, who we ordered some coffees off of.
The coffees smelled unwholesome and were watery-weak; really no good at all. For half a bit each we got a couple of stale doughnuts that I was seriously considering taking with us to use as missiles, should we run out of bullets.
After a while, summoning up the courage, we got our shit together to progress on our god damned way.
We left the dingy saloon of Flanagan’s and were washed with that unyielding sunlight. And it was outside, as I am sure you could imagine, where all the fun started.
17
The street was still relatively empty. That was, apart from that old fellow and the three boys who were playing Faro the night before. They were standing all expectant and I could see that, in their belts, they wore big pistols.
I coughed at the sudden intake of desert dust and me and Alice began to make our way to the livery were the mule had been housed. Lo and behold these jokers decided to block our path, all smiling nasty grins.
The old fella pulled a cheroot that he had been puffing on from his mouth and began to speak: ‘I believe you and your friend here made me and my boys a promise last night.’
‘We never made no damn promises.’ I retorted, in no mood for no fucking around.
The dumb bastards shuffled about nervously in an exasperated manner, like they was in the process of being ripped off or some such.
‘What about how you was gonna entertain us, huh? Remember that little promise?’
I felt a pressure in my head. Not the dull kind, caused by the desert and not enough water, but an intense pressure that seemed to cause energy to multiply and expand in my skull. It was hatred for bastards and manipulators getting what they want any way they can, mostly from women, which caused it. I
have a remedy for that kind of sickness.
‘Cast your minds back, dumbasses, and you’ll remember what I said was if we were staying another night, which we ain’t and if ya’ll were lucky, which you ain’t. Now get out my way or am I going to have to shoot you?’
Old numbnuts started to edge towards me.
‘Now then there’s no need for sym…’
Even in my ailed state Comeuppance was in my hand before anyone knew it and, flashing like lightning, she spat a chunk of lead into the old bastard’s knee. Oh, and didn’t he just holler when his knee joint got punched out the wrong way like a dog’s leg.
‘He ain’t dead but he will be, you boys don’t holster your weapons,’ I bellowed, my gun aimed at the whimpering old fella’s head. His boys put their guns back in leather, though they didn’t look happy doing it. I looked round and that wimp Alice had her arms wrapped around herself and was avoiding laying her gaze on the carnage.
Some guards hurried up Main Street to where we were, their light body armour jostling and clattering and they wielded assault rifles. I could see they were not the same two as yesterday.
‘Drop your weapons,’ they shouted, nervously.
‘Relax, I’m holstering,’ I said, placing Comeuppance back in leather, nice and dainty. Drop my weapon indeed.
‘What-what’s going on here?’ said one of them, blinking like he was going to fit.
‘These men were trying to rape me an my friend, and I defended us. That’s all, nothing more interesting that that.’
‘OK, ya’ll g-g-g-g-going to ha-have to come with us to our barracks and fill out some reports.’
‘Fuck no. We got shit to do,’ I told these jokers. ‘Come on let’s go,’ I said to Alice, and continued through the dusty street towards the livery where our mule was probably getting more care than it deserved.
‘M-m-ma’am?’ the guard called after us.
I looked around the street as we walked. I could see we had got some attention. There was all these folks looking out their windows from their abodes and quarters above the businesses.