I rode for two weeks, following the pull of the Sensing. I ended up in a little town in north Oklahoma called Tumbleweed Springs.
Wasn't much more than a trading post with a couple of saloons.
Did have a post office though, rickety as the thing was. The streets were ghostly quiet and whenever people met my eye or even so much as got close to the road when I was riding by they seemed to zip back inside or duck off for parts unknown.
The feeling of dread in my gut was so palpable it felt like I had swallowed a rock.
Yea, this was the place all right.
But what was it? What was causing it? The Sensing couldn't point me right at it so it wasn't a demon or something like that.
Well, shit...
I had no idea where to start.
Dusty made this look so effortless. Just swoop in, get right to the heart of things then blow out of town before folk could ask too many questions.
Welp, I wasn't Dusty. Guess I had to do things my way. If you can't pick a lock, you just kick the door in. I hitched Rosie outside the local jailhouse and stepped inside.
This was part of the problem. The place was nothing but spiders and cobwebs. Probably hadn't been used in several weeks. The sweet smell of decay hit me and it didn't take me long to figure out why. The smell led me out back and hanging from a big old oak was the town marshal and his deputy.
What was left of 'em anyway.
Weren't much more than skeletons with a few bits of rotted meat that a few crows were picking at. The birds screamed at me in that old rusty crow song and took to the air, irritated I had interrupted their lunch.
I pulled knife from my boot, intending to cut the poor bastards out of the tree from which they were swinging.
Then I put my knife back.
If the outlaws who'd done this were still here in town, let's just let em know law had come to Tumblewood Springs. I pulled the LeMat and let loose two shots dropping the skeletal figures to the ground, shooting clean through the ropes.
I covered the poor fellas in an old canvas tarp, intending on going to get the undertaker later on. But before I did, I took the shiny tin star from the town marshal's chest and pinned it on my own vest. After I wiped the yuck off of it of course.
Then I set to work. I went to the undertakers. Well, I tried. Town was too small to have one, so instead I bought a shovel. The old white haired clerk noticed the badge. "Wait a second. Why you wearing the marshal's badge?"
I spit out the door. "Poor ol' soul ain't seem to be using it no more." I jerked my thumb at the quiet street. "And it seems like you folks could do with a town marshal. Even if I am just temporary."
"You seen what happened to them and you still gonna wear that?" Scoffed the old timer. "We ain't even know you from Adam, young man. What makes you think we even want law in these parts?"
I let my uncovered eye meet his and just told him the truth.
"You told me," I said.
He looked like he wanted to object but I shook my head and held up my hand.
"I know you ain't said it but oftentimes a man doesn't have to say anything. I learned all I needed from watching you. Way you jumped when I came in. Way you looked at me terrified. Like Satan himself might walk through that door. You did your best not to look like you was looking at me when I grabbed this old dirt turner. And when I thumped it against the floor you nearly come out of your boots."
I gave him a smile.
"Yea, old timer, Your face told me you wanted somebody to put this badge on and that you was too afraid to do it. So here I am. Dodger Williams, fast gun for hire and saddle tramp here to give you a bit of a hand."
Boy did that come off cheesy.
I'd have blushed if I could. Here I was a short, fruity lookin little one-eyed bastard, spouting off about how I was gonna solve the town's problems.
I knew I had to look ridiculous.
So I cleared my throat. "Hey you got a broom I could borrow? I gotta clean out the jailhouse."
I finished up my business and drifted out the door, carrying my shovel and broom. Then I immediately dropped them and spun, my gun leaping, almost of it's own accord, from holster to palm in less than a heartbeat. The thunder of the LeMat filled the air with two explosions. A third followed right behind but it was from my would-be assassin's rifle, his finger reflexively pulling the trigger. I walked over. I had caught him in the shoulder, right where I had been aiming.
He must have been a pretty good marksman cause they had given him an old black powder Kentucky rifle.
Big flintlock thing.
I clicked my tongue then whistled through my teeth as I knelt beside the groaning man. He wasn't much older than me. Kinda plain lookin fella. Blood was shooting through his fingers.
"Looks like it hurts." I said casually, pushing the brim of my hat up a bit. "Why'd you try it, fella? Who put you up to it?"
"Fuck you!" He snarled at me.
I knocked his front tooth out with the butt of my pistol.
"No thanks, I got a gal." I told him with my sunniest smile. He didn't know whether to clutch his mouth or his shoulder.
I thumbed back the hammer on my piece slowly, letting him hear every ratchet of the cylinder. "Now, we are gonna try this again and you be polite this time. Who told you to kill me?"
"They'll kill me if I tell ya mister! But I had to do it!" His eyes were pleading. I had to look away. I scanned the streets and sniffed the air. No sign of any more assailants, for then at least.
Course the search was just a pretense so as I didn't have to look at him. I ain't never really gone cold toward pressing a man but ya do what's gotta be done.
"Look fella, that bullet is stuck in there pretty deep. Pretty soon it's gonna swell up tighter than Dick's hatband. Then it'll turn green and fall right off. And that's if you're lucky. Normally the fever kills you first."
I looked down into his face. "Now you work with me, I can dig it out and disinfect it. Or fetch a doctor if you have one so as he can dig it out." I looked back at him.
"Otherwise, I'm gonna lock you in the jailhouse, let the fever get bad and when you get delirious I'll get my answer." I spat into the dust.
"So, make your choice. For sure death by those people or fever, or a chance at making it out alive. It's your letter."
Didn't take long.
Pain and the promise of a chance at life tends to loosen a man's tongue.
"There's two sisters, a cousin and two brothers. Come through town every week and demand a payment. Ain't nobody allowed to leave and anybody who bucks 'em ends up on the rope or shot." He groaned and rolled around. "Now please, mister. Help me! It hurts!" I nodded and leaned down. Giving him a shoulder to lean on we limped our way back to the jail.
Turns out the little town ain't have a doctor. So the task fell to me. Well, I got the bullet out.
There was a lot of blood and a lot of screaming on his part.
For my part there was a lot of cussing and telling him to shut up, bite the belt and hold still.
I used my knife and dug it out. I socked some old corn whiskey into the wound, cauterized it and wrapped it in a bandage. The shot had broke the collar but I fixed it the best I could. I didn't have anymore bandage so we made a sling from the old jailhouse sheets, boiled as best I could in an old brass teakettle I found in the back of the jail.
"Now, fella, I feel like we're good friends at this point. So, what's your name?" I asked him, cleaning as much blood as I could from the old straw mattress.
"Richard, sheriff. Richard Clemons." He said sadly. "And I ain't your friend. I'm a dead man."
I gave up on the mattress and just flipped the damn thing over. It didn't show like that.
"No, not quite dead yet." I dusted my hands off and turned back to him, locked in the other cell. "I went through a lot of trouble to save that arm. Be damned if I'll let you die fore it's healed. I'm gonna..."
I was gonna tell him I would make sure he lived to tell about things or at least let a judge decide his fate when there was a knock on the door.
A polite one-two.
"Looks like we've got a guest."
I eased over to the door, gun in hand and pressed it against the wood, easing the door open so I could peek out. There in front of the door stood a finely dressed woman all done up in her Sunday finest, her honey blonde hair tucked up neatly under her little hat.
"Hello, sir. Might I come in?" She asked. Her voice was as honey as her hair. I gave her a grin.
"Why yes, ma'am. Come right on in." I opened the door all the way and stepped aside. "Don't mind the mess. Haven't had a chance to really straighten up yet."
"Don't do it, Sherriff! She's the cousin! Don't do it!" Richard shouted.
The lady pointed at him. "Why don't you lay down, Richard. I heard how you attacked this poor man." Dick followed her orders as if she had cracked a whip. He lay down on his cot and promptly closed his eyes. I sat down at the old desk and looked up at her.
"What can I help you with, miss?" I asked in my best manners. "Sorry if my arrival caused a bit of a ruckus this mornin."
"Oh, that's quite all right." She said smiling. "May I sit?"
"Well just pull you up a chair." I told her, "ya might have to dust it off a bit."
She did as I asked pulling up an old chair that had sat in the corner and used one of the old rags to clean it. She dusted her little black gloves and sat down.
"Now, my name is Mary Ann Waters, of the Waters family. We serve as the town council in this fine place." She said, pretty as a peach. "Now, it's my job to keep up with things around here. So might I inquire as to your name, sir? And of course ask your business in town."
"Well, Ms. Waters," I said, drawling a bit. I leaned back in my chair and propped my boots on the desk. "I am your new town marshal. Names Dodger. Dodger Williams. I'm normally a sort of bounty hunter by trade but when I seen what happened to the poor fellas who held this post beforehand I figured it was best if I stuck around. Least till I could figure out who done it." I said casually. Nothing there was a lie. Technically.
"And of course I'll bring them to justice."
"Well, nobody has been elected to replace the sheriff so I'll have to ask you to relinquish these premises unless you can obey the will of the council." She stressed the word obey, and I saw her fingers move on the desk. I steeled myself. A wave of pressure hit my mind. It was like a sledge driving a railroad spike.
God she was strong!
I could feel myself starting to slip under her control. I burned the curse in my veins. Her spell was repulsed hard. She blinked rapidly and I knew she had felt it. Sorceress.
I drew the LeMat and whipped her across the mouth with it. Then I flipped it over so the barrel was in my hand and grabbed her arm, snatching it flat onto the top of the desk.
Using the gun as a hammer I slammed the butt down three or four times, breaking her fingers to bits. She fell away before I could get my hand on her other arm.
I hated to hit a lady but spells are a dangerous thing to play with. At least she wasn't a Witch. I don't know that rabbit blood would have fended her off. I'll give ole Mary Ann this, she hand a hell of a pain tolerance. She growl-screamed in agony, and made a sign in the air.
"Don't!" I told her. "I don't want that!"
"Wind!" She barked thrusting her good hand forward. I was blown backward, crashing into the wall. The door and the glass were sucked in by the backdraft and I had to roll to the side to avoid being split in half by the solid oak door. I had dropped my gun in my crazy tumble.
She tried to crush me backwards again, to pin me against the wall using air pressure. She wanted to force the air from my lungs. To crush me. She stood to her feet, keeping her hand out."I don't know who you think you are but you're going to pay for this!"
She closed her fist making a noose out of air, making it a physical thing. She dragged me close enough to smell her breath. It was kinda sweet. She growled through her teeth.
"Tell me before you die. What are you?"
Dragging me that close had been a mistake. I guess most folks chose to fight the invisible choke cord or she was too arrogant to realize that I wasn't panicked.
I snapped my hands forward and grabbed her by the wrist.
"The law."
Was all I said before I pulled with all of my might and ripped the whole damn thing off at the elbow.
I dropped to the ground as she screamed and writhed.
Iwasn't going to let her die.
She needed her hands to work magic . One was smashed beyond ever healing properly and the other was gone.
No need to kill her. Besides, I needed information. So I knelt beside her and drank from the grizzled wound then I sealed it closed by the grace of my gift.
Miss Waters and I were about to have a long friendly chat.