Archive for May, 2012

An Ode to the Dearly Departed I

Posted in Fiction, Western on May 30, 2012 by GuNNhead

A dirty pair of boots shambles into town, just past the opening gates. Spurs clink dully against themselves. It’s bright morning in this small western town, the sun is just above the horizon, the heat of the day can already be felt. A tumbleweed rolls by. The mayor is the first to see this tired traveler. He begins to approach this mysterious man, when his better judgement kicks in. He sees the holster at his side, and remembers Sheriff Thron’s warnings: don’t mess with strangers coming into town. A few of the old timers notice him as well, as do a few of the townsfolk, out for an afternoon stroll. Who is he? What does he want? Those thoughts pass through their minds, there’s not another town for miles. Then, the man collapses. The minster’s wife, Gloria Astaire breaks free of her conversation with the other townswives, and rushes to his aid.

“He must be dehydrated, wandering through the desert for days!” George Rumpert, a local drunk outside the Barber’s waiting for his haircut comes to crowd this newcomer.
“Lucky we had our annual celebrations last night, he probably done heard or saw our celebrations fer miles around!” Another of the townsfolk brings water, Ma Perkins, an old maid who was one of the young beauties who started this town comes with a cup of water.
“Oh, he looks a terrible fright!” She holds his head, and feeds the water into his mouth. “Come now, let’s get you to the clinic for a rest.”
“Woah there, not so fast,” interjects the sheriff from horseback, having heard of the commotion from the gunsmith’s apprentice, also the town messenger. A boy quick on his feet. “he could very well be an outlaw on the lam.”
“Well he still needs our help,” says Gloria adamantly.
“That may be so, but he might be dangerous, we’ll put him in lockup for now, until he betters.” The coalesce with the Sheriff. His decisive nature has never lead the townsfolk astray in the past, though, not as much as his quick hand has defended them from the seedier element of the west. “George, help me get him up on my horse, I’ll take him to the station; ladies, if’n ya will.”
Both men take a firm hold of the man, and hoist him onto the back of the horse.
“Oof, this feller reeks to high heaven.” Ma Perkins keeps her distance; Gloria tries to give him more water.
“Ow! The smelly cluck bit me!”
“Dangit, Gloria, the sheriff told ya te keep yer distance! The mad bastard probably hasn’t had a bite to eat in days.”
“Ma Perkins, take Gloria to Doc, git her hand patched up, we’ll finish up here, and send him ‘round when you’re done there.”

The two women enter the local clinic.
“Doc, some stranger come into town and collapsed, bit Gloria.”
“Dang, well, bring her here, lemme take a look at that hand.” Gloria heads on over towards the Doc, and he meets her in the middle of the room, taking hold of her hand. He lifts his spectacles to his eyes.
“Hmm, and how long you say this stranger come in?”
“Just now, Sheriff’s got him in lock up, just in case he’s some sorta outlaw, if not a madman, they want you to head there after, take a look at him.”
“Just now? This bite looks days old, Gloria… we may have to amputate.”
“Amputate? But I was just bit, Doc.”
“Look, I know what I’m hearin, but I know what I’m seein even more.”
“Well, I’ll not lose the hand Mr. Astaire bended his knee to.”
“Tell ya what, I’ll clean it up, put some leaches on it, bandage it for now, give it a look in a day, but that’s alls I can do.”
“Thank you, Doc.”

Once the wound is treated, Doc gathers up some supplies for the trip over to the Sheriff’s.
“Ma Perkins, will you be a dear and take Gloria home, she should probably rest.”
“Alrigh-”
“Rest? But, Doc, I feel fine.”
“Sorry, Gloria, Doctor’s orders.” He holds the door open for the two women as they make their way out, Gloria clutching her hand. He takes a look around the clinic, making sure everything’s in place. Satisfied, he closes the door and heads down the street.

Leave a comment »

Residential Rocket

Posted in Fiction on May 28, 2012 by GuNNhead

I leapt onto the launching rocket. Handle like extensions on its sides aided in that, but still left my lower half dangling within the propulsion blast. I pulled myself up as much as a could, but I accidentally shifted the angle of the rocket once I was able to position my feet on its skirt to avoid the flame. The shift caused me to lose my footing, and my body slammed into the side of the chassis. It was now pointing up and to the east, but sliding west, and I was losing my grip fast. It passed near the roof of one 12 story building, but not close enough to make the jump. The ground below was gaining distance fast. One last chance over the roof of another building. I let go. It was a long shot, but after a few rolls in gravel and dusting myself off, I notice I was only a foot or two from over shooting the roof and falling to my death. Not bad. The rocket engages fully, and fires a blast that would have surely fried me, and takes off into the clouds beyond my vision.

There isn’t much on this roof, so I head to the door to get down. It opens before me, and four people come pouring out. I’m handed an odd bottle opener, and informed in slurred speech it’ll help me get back onto the roof. Drunk teens, oblivious to the rocket, coming up here to drink. I pocket it, thank them sincerely, pass them and their cases of beer to the stairwell. Down the stairs and through a door, I’m on the 15th floor of an apartment building. Nice place. I scope it out in one direction, but at the end of a hall, instead of arriving at a doorway, there’s a room. Bed, tv, couch, well lived in, just, completely open to the hall. I look around for a bit, to make my way to the large windows overlooking the city. The area is a bit messy, some drawers a slightly open, clothes and things strewn about. Lived in. I open the blinds to look out, and as the light begins to hit my face, I hear a voice behind me, I release the curtain closed, and face the sound. A man asks what I’m doing in his place; I tell him I don’t really know, it’s an odd thing, to have a place so open. He tells me it’s really none of my business, and that it’s best if I just leave. He’s dressed summer slovenly, sandals, an old t-shirt from some exotic vacation, balding, portly, and unshaven. He walks me to the elevator area. We hear the windows echo from down the hall as they shatter. He tosses me into a darkened room, and closes the door, running towards the noise. I hear an explosion before the window of the room I’m in is shattered open as well. A tall man wearing a business suit casually steps in, detaching himself from a harness. In the new light, I can see the barrel of a gun sticking out of a bottom drawer in this room. Both rooms had the exact same furnishings. The door swings open, it’s the man from before. He tells me to get grab the gun and start firing. Not knowing what else to do, this seems like the best option. I lunge forward, grab it, and roll backwards. On my back and still disoriented, I take a few shots at the man in the suit. noticeably hitting him only once of 4 shots with what I can only call some sort of automatic shotgun, I start scooting backwards to the door, he walks through my continuing fire, unflinching, and takes hold of my left kneecap, and begins to dislocate it beneath the skin. He smiles. I try to lift the gun, but he kicks it out of my hand. I’m able to get it in the general direction of the other man, who I notice cannot pick it up, for his fingers are broken and mangled, bleeding badly. The man in the suit finishes tearing my patella from ligament and tendon. Once he tears it out of my flesh, he tosses it on me. He then picks up the automatic shotgun, and shoots the other man to death.

1 Comment »