tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77534930299316710862024-03-12T23:04:10.828+00:00This Burning Man'This Burning Man' is a story of criminals and bounty hunters in post-apocalyptic Arizona. It began life as a Nanowrimo project in 2015 and was serialised here as it was written.
20% of the unedited version of the book can now be read here for free, and the final edited novel can be bought for 99 cents/pence on the Amazon link below.
- Kris (Twitter: @KrisHolt1)Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7753493029931671086.post-40910062501261053942017-07-30T14:44:00.000+01:002017-08-13T13:50:36.180+01:00This Burning Man is complete!If you are a new reader, hello and welcome. You've arrived at a slightly awkward moment - in this case, five minutes after the story has actually finished. I would recommend clicking <a href="http://thisburningman.blogspot.co.uk/2016/01/chapter-1.html">here</a>, which will take you to the start of this fun, madcap romp through future Arizona. As it stands, the first 20% of the book can now be read online here, and the remainder of the text will shortly be available from Amazon for a mere 99 cents/pence at the links below.<br />
<br />
US link: <a href="https://www.amazon.com/This-Burning-Future-Arizona-Book-ebook/dp/B074RRLVYV/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1502628590&sr=8-1&keywords=kris+holt+this+burning+man">Click here</a><br />
<br />
UK link: <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/This-Burning-Future-Arizona-Book-ebook/dp/B074RRLVYV/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1502628526&sr=8-2&keywords=kris+holt">Click here</a><br />
<br />
If you live in any other territory, please go to your local Amazon page and search for 'Kris Holt'.
<br />
<br />
Acknowledgements as follows:
<br />
<br />First of all, to my amazing readers who have stayed with the project from inception and given all manner of advice and guidance - CJ, Erin, Kate, Lolli, Wee Red Bird, to name just the ones I know of. Thanks also to everyone at the Norwich Sci-Fi and Fantasy Book Club, who have been a constant source of encouragement and have listened to me bore on the subject of my work more times than I care to remember. Please know that it's much appreciated!
<br /><br />The e-book cover was produced by the thoroughly talented and delightful <a href="https://twitter.com/Elizabethjbooks">Elizabeth Jeannel</a>. At this stage, I have no plans for a paperback version of 'This Burning Man'.
<br />
<br />
In terms of new projects in the pipeline, I recommend my other online project, the <a href="https://caribouchronicles.com/2017/07/01/chapter-one/">Caribou Chronicles</a>, an urban fantasy tale which is co-written with the accomplished Canadian horror writer, Caitlin Marceau. I also have a plan for a second novel in the TBM world, as yet not fully planned, but with at least some of the characters you've met from the first. Provisionally entitled, 'The Fox and the Mox', expect news on development in 2018!<br />
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Until then, hold onto your hats, there's plenty more to come! Best believe it...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7753493029931671086.post-42974755923219922152016-04-10T12:12:00.004+01:002017-08-12T23:46:42.288+01:00Chapter 8 - Back to School<br />
'So what's the deal with you two anyway?' I said, meaning her and Gregor.<br />
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<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
'Deal?' Jayci replied. 'Why does there need to be a deal?'<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
It could have been my imagination, but it kind of looked a bit like Jayci
had a spring in her step this morning. She'd been smiling as she'd been
checking and loading her kit, and I swear I heard her humming as she parked up
the hovertrike.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
'C'mon now,' I said. 'Don't bullshit me.'<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
'What? You saw how it is. Gregor has his ways. He has a skillset. He knows
about interesting places. You might say he's highly-strung. He gets spooked
real easy, he's not exactly a fast mover and he refuses to carry a gun. So when
I'm travelling this far out, it's handy to have someone else there.' <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
'So after all your fine words about being able to look after yourself...'<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
'Oh, can it, laser boy. I don't need you there looking over my shoulder. I
might need those measly muscles of yours to help me load some of the loot onto
the hovertrike, though.'<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
'So I'm the muscle?'<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
Jayci stuck out her tongue at me. 'Dumb muscle, at that.' <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
'Touche. So do we even know where we are?' I said.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
'Sixty miles west-northwest,' she replied. In the distance, we could see the
top of a rusting water tower. 'Less about a hundred yards or so.'<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
'How can you be sure?'<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
The girl raised an eyebrow and span round quick enough that her braids
trailed like drag ropes. She grinned at me, and flashed a piece of paper in my
direction. 'Gregor's map is precise.'<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
I reached for it, only for her to pull it back at the last moment. 'Can I
see?' I asked.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
'Nope,' she said, smiling smugly, before folding the paper up small and
sliding it down her top.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
'This ain't an equitable arrangement.'<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
'Did Gregor teach you them words?' When she saw my expression, she rolled
her eyes. 'Oh, c'mon. Lighten up, Phoe-phoe. This is a proper adventure, right?
Chance to make a little money, have a little fun.'<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
'Chance to get shot up by random strangers in the middle of nowhere.'<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
'Yeah, well, better that than go missing in the night.' Our eyes met for a moment,
and hers looked down. 'Sorry, I didn't mean that. Just weren't thinking.'<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
Jayci was many things, but I figured that malice for the sake of it wasn't
something she'd shown, so I let it go. I watched her park up the hovertrike between two low dunes
and mark it with a long piece of petrified wood that she found wedged in some
rocks.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
She stepped back to admire her handywork, glanced around for high places and
movement. This far out, the sand moved with the air, and it was hard to see
anything at all beyond the whistling grit.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
'Reckon that's good?' she asked.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
'Good as anything,' I said.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
'C'mon then.' She slipped her jacket off her shoulders and dropped her water
canister in the sand beneath the trike.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
'You're leaving your water?'<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
She shrugged. Her shoulders were narrow, and you could see the blades poking
out her back like broken kites. 'It’s heavy to carry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If someone runs off with the trike, you ain't
walking home on one can.' It was a fair point, but old habits are hard to break.<br />
<br />
We pulled scarves across our faces to keep out as much of the sand as we
could and scuffed our way across the heavy dust path into town. As villages
went, it weren't much. Half a dozen buildings that were pretty much shells,
half a dozen more that were just piles of rubble. We walked up to the nearest
one. Yellow buffelgrass was bunched up beneath the decay. Drywall was peeling
away from the timbers. The wood itself was scorched and wedged into right
angles. It looked like ribs exposed under torn flesh.<br />
<br />
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<br />
'I'm not seeing my fortune here,' I said.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
'You gotta look a little closer,' she whispered, pointing at the largest of
the intact buildings. 'School house has gotta be that one over there. That's my
baby.'<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
She peeled away from me, and pointed at the next house along. 'Go that way.
Be careful. Sometimes people left traps if they was planning on coming back.
It's good to find them before they find you, if you know what I mean.'<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
I had my stripes in staking out these kinda places. Watching the ground all the way, I held my breath as I stepped away from the broken
down house in front of me. Without the shade, the air was baking and it felt
like you needed two breaths to get air for one. Out back, behind
the house, a concrete cylinder that once held water or petrol was
crumbling away in the wind. The metal cords that
ran through the structure poked out and turned in on one another like
army bootlaces.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
Behind that, in a toolbox, I found a leaking battery and a shattered solar
cell, neither of which was usable. The next house looked little better than the
first, with stark red initials painted onto the sides. Whether it was graffiti
or a warning to looters, I couldn't tell. Most of the front wall was
missing, with the door hanging on a single hinge and creaking away.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
Stepping inside, I used one of the broken timbers to prod at the floor,
testing to see if it would hold my weight. There was an open fridge in the back,
lying on its side. The contents had long since gone rotten and been smeared
across the insides. I wondered whether the scavengers were human or animal.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
I walked through the house, prodding away with the timber as I went,
avoiding the places where the floor or the ceiling sagged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The windows across the back of the house – probably a kitchen, I figured – had long since been smashed, and now even
the frames were crumbling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I opened the
drawers one by one, finding nothing but nests of desert creatures that fled for
cover from the sudden light.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
I’d pretty much given up hope of finding anything valuable by the time I
opened the final cupboard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a
collection of pipes here from a sink or
something. Squeezed in the back behind them was a small dark box that could
have been missed by people leaving in a hurry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
It was rectangular, about the size of a bullet box you might pick up at the market,
but the contents were more interestin'.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Squeezing it open with sweaty palms, I could see that the back of the
box was wadded with a soft material, like it was some kind of display case.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I flipped the lid, two small silver coins
were nestled in the wadding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The one on
the left had the profile of a man with a stooping brow and long hair tied down
at the side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other bore a picture of
a long, bull-like creature with wide shoulders tapering down to a narrow ass.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Around it were written the
words, ‘United States of America’ and ‘Five cents’.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
Chits had replaced coins years ago because these days they needed all the
metal they could get.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wasn’t the
sentimental type, but it was still strange for me to think that what I was holding
in my hand was probably a hundred and fifty years older or more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some collector would surely be interested in
it, and it weren’t like it was heavy to carry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I wasn’t expecting Jayci to share anything she found with me, so I saw nothing
wrong with sliding the coin case into my bag.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
I was all set to head back the way I’d come when I first heard the
music.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It drifted in and out, on the
fringes of my hearing, but the notes were clear and well-defined.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guessed it had to be some kind of music
box, but it seemed to be coming from outside the house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I looked around, senses on alert, but nothing
seemed to be moving or have changed inside the house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A little bit against my better judgement, I
went onward.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
By the time I had eased open the screen door at the back of the house, my
gun was in my hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I glanced left and
right, but the sand was blowing again, and I couldn’t see a damn thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought about going back to look for Jayci,
but if I told her that I was hearing music from out of the air, she’d just take
it as a sign that God was messing with me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Anyway, outside the house, the music was clear, too clear to be a
recording.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
I slid down a low bank behind the house, following the music all the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sandstorm continued to rage overhead, but
down here the air was clearer. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To
my limited brain, that didn’t seem like good physics, but I was just pleased to be
able to see at least a few feet and pull the scarf away from my face.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
When the scarf dropped away, what I saw kind of made sense and no sense at
the same time.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
In the middle of this sunken dustbowl, a single man in a black jacket and
tails sat with his back to me at one of them Old Worlder saloon pianos.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was sunk into the sand, with no
suggestion of how it got there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There were no vehicles around, no water bottles, nothing at all except an empty
tip jar resting by the pedals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The man
himself was furiously animated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His
fingers flew across the keys, picking out high and low notes that conveyed a
frenzy of agitation, undercut by a deep, mournful melody.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His long, jerky arms splayed around, causing
his parted hair to bounce around as he played.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
Out of nowhere, Piano Man stopped playing and kicked his chair around to face
me. His eyes and his grin were both far too wide, pitching well into the
rocky terrain on the far side of sanity.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
‘Phoenix!’ he announced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘I’m so
pleased you could make it!'<br />
<br />
<a href="http://thisburningman.blogspot.co.uk/2017/07/this-burning-man-is-complete.html">Back to the Main Page > > ></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7753493029931671086.post-79537455088405517912016-03-27T16:56:00.000+01:002016-04-10T12:20:04.333+01:00Chapter 7 - The Man with the Map in his Head'Nobody knows the Sands.'<br />
<br />
'Okay. So nobody knows the Sands better than Gregor.' Jayci slipped a key out of her pocket and into the lock first time. Rather than opening the door all the way, she eased it just an inch or two and squinted through the gap.<br />
<br />
I glanced around and behind us. One or two rubberneckers in the mid distance looked away. 'What's up? I thought this was your place?'<br />
<br />
She shifted her angle, eased the door a little more. 'It is my place.'<br />
<br />
'Then what's the hold up?'<br />
<br />
'I can hear him in there. He don't always react well to new people.'<br />
<br />
'How am I gonna know a bad reaction?'<br />
<br />
'That's when he doesn't ask questions after shooting.' <br />
<br />
I said, 'You're shitting me, right?'<br />
<br />
''Course I'm shitting you. He wouldn't need to waste a bullet when he could wring your scrawny neck with one hand.' <br />
<br />
Jayci opened the door all the way and motioned me inside. I followed her lead through the backroom to a dingy front studio that looked out onto the main street. A low-slung blind kept the whole place in semi-darkness. In the midst of that darkness, a bulky shadow was moving back and forth, making a swishing noise as it did so.<br />
<br />
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'Gregor? You in here?'<br />
<br />
'You need to get some light in here,' I said. <br />
<br />
'Jayci? Is that you?' The shadow moved quickly towards us and a narrow bar of light cut across the gloom. The man before me was perfectly round, folds of fat over rows of muscle. The top half of his face was all shiny dimpled forehead, the lower half a scruffy beard and moustache. His mean eyes and hooked nose took up a space somewhere in the middle that was about the size of my thumbnail.<br />
<br />
<br />
Gregor carefully leaned the brush that he'd been using to sweep the floor against the wall nearby. Then he began to rub his hands together and stared straight at me,
unblinking. 'Jayci, there's a stranger in my house. I don't
like strangers. Also, this particular stranger has a gun and
opinions on how we do things.'<br />
<br />
Jayci moved between us, touched Gregor's arm and began to whisper to him. I took the time to look around the room. One corner was occupied by a rancid-looking sofa. In front of that was a low table with a single magazine on it and two ancient office chairs that were facing into mirrors. One had a white porcelain sink beneath it.<br />
<br />
'Gregor does a bit of everything,' Jayci explained. 'Cuts hair, does tattoos. He knows science and engineering. He's a brilliant artist. In fact, he's an all-round fucking genius.'<br />
<br />
I had to duck low to see out of the blind. 'Whatever he is, y'all ain't getting many customers if people don't know that you're open.' When I turned around, Gregor's expression didn't exactly look come hither.<br />
<br />
'Believe it or not, Phoenix is sometimes okay. And when he remembers his manners,' and here Jayci shot me a venomous look, 'he'll introduce himself. Won't you, Phoenix?'<br />
<br />
'Pleasure,' I said, waving half-heartedly.<br />
<br />
Gregor shook his head and muttered as he sloped away. His accent was strange, unplaceable, but I knew he wasn't local. But then, what did that mean these days, really? We were all just random mutts who fell into the sand when everything got turned upside down. <br />
<br />
Jayci whispered to him again and he pulled a face like he was drinking piss. When their short exchange was over, she turned back to face me <br />
<br />
'Now, you might have noticed that Gregor here doesn't appreciate your ready wit, so it'd be real helpful if you'd sit yourself in one of those chairs and stop stamping around like you own the place,' Jayci said.<br />
<br />
I followed Jayci's suggestion, sitting down, folding my hands across my lap and nodding amiably at Gregor. For his part, he just stared straight back. You wouldn't have needed a knife to cut the tension. You could have done it with one of Preacher Man's wooden spoons.<br />
<br />
'Well, this is nice.' Jayci sighed. 'I'm going to sort us out some drinks. In the meantime, why don't you boys get acquainted?'<br />
<br />
She disappeared into the back room, but not before giving me a look that could have scorched metal. That girl would have made a fine schoolteacher.<br />
<br />
When she'd gone, I studied Gregor's expression. It was the same as it had been throughout, just like a bulldog chewing on a lime. I said, 'Y'know, with your face all screwed up like that, you could be scowling and I just wouldn't know it.'<br />
<br />
'You're an idiot,' he said.<br />
<br />
Jayci returned moments later with three of the muddiest coffees I'd ever seen. 'Don't get excited, it's pretty awful,' she said. I sipped at it. It was bitter and sweet and foul all at once. <br />
<br />
'So where did you fine folks meet?' I asked.<br />
<br />
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Gregor pulled a face at Jayci and she nodded. He took a deep breath before answering the question. 'Some time ago, I did a stint in the Pen.'<br />
<br />
'You were in prison?'<br />
<br />
Gregor shrugged. Jayci said, 'I bailed him out.'<br />
<br />
'I never asked you to,' Gregor said.<br />
<br />
'You never had to,' she said, turning back to me. 'Gregor kind of stood out. It was pretty clear that he had some special skills that made him different to the typical mouthbreeders they get in there.'<br />
<br />
I sipped at the coffee. The second taste was no better than the first. 'So what did you do?' <br />
<br />
'What everyone does,' Jayci said. 'He upset the wrong man. Fortunately for him, the hunter who came after him was a professional and not some no-good, two bit gunslinger with more teeth than brains. Gregor came quiet, we had a little chat and came to an arrangement.'<br />
<br />
I looked at her. Her braids were dragging along the floor between her legs. 'And what exactly do you get out of this?' I asked.<br />
<br />
'Free board, for starters,' she said. 'But more than that. Back before his trip to the Pen, Gregor used to make a living travelling through the desert and collecting old tech. He repairs things, or builds 'em new from parts. He constructed the hovertrike I came in on. Best of all, he has a photographic memory. Everywhere he's been, he remembers the way back. It's like he's carrying a map in his head.'<br />
<br />
My ears pricked up.<br />
<br />
Jayci leaned in towards me. 'And Gregor's been everywhere.'<br />
<br />
The man himself rubbed his hairy jowls. 'I was out in the Sands, scavenging every day for years. It's actually a pretty empty place for the most part. Far fewer people than the city.' <br />
<br />
'You ever run into bads?'<br />
<br />
'Sometimes,' he said. 'But I'm not a hunter. I don't carry a gun. Most people will walk away if you let them.'<br />
<br />
'Most people?' He just stared back without saying a word. I got a sense for just how Gregor might have ended up in the Pen.<br />
<br />
I could sense Jayci waiting for me. I wanted to ask the question, and they knew how much I needed the answer. It was like playing poker when your opponents held all the cards. Still, getting beat and losing my shirt had to be better than drinking any more of that coffee.<br />
<br />
So I said, 'You ever hear of an oasis in the desert where a gang of women hole up?'<br />
<br />
'Yes,' he said, never skipping a beat. 'I know it. I've been there many times.' <br />
<br />
Jayci stepped in before I could ask any more. 'What my esteemed companion means is that he's sure he remembers a place like the one you're describing. But before he can tell you how to get there, you're going to have to help us out with a little supply run.'<br />
<br />
'Let me guess,' I said. 'In the Sands.'<br />
<br />
Gregor pulled out a piece of paper and began to draw a map with a small chunk of pencil. 'There's an abandoned village I found some time ago, about sixty miles west-northwest. The schoolhouse was pretty much intact and there looked like there might have been some interesting stuff there.'<br />
<br />
I looked at the pair of them seated together, one grinning ghoulishly and the other rubbing his hands so intently it was like he was washing them in the air. 'Why didn't you check it out when you were there?'<br />
<br />
'The place wasn't normal. The energy there was...wrong.' He looked away for the first time, like he knew he was selling me a horse that was lame.<br />
<br />
'Energy?' I said to Jayci.<br />
<br />
She smiled back. 'Not my words. Don't look at me.'<br />
<br />
'Bad juju. Great,' I said.<br />
<br />
'What's a bunch of downer vibes when you're badass enough to take down a giant by accident?' Jayci had me over a barrel and she knew it. 'You want to know where that oasis is at, and we're gonna make it happen for you. In the meantime, you can help us out a little.'<br />
<br />
She leaned forward once again as Gregor sat back, and they looked for all the world like two misshapen levers on a chaos engine. Jayci offered me a hand to shake, and I stared for a moment at her calloused yellow palm.<br />
<br />
'You know,' I said to her, 'trusting this to you feels like a pretty damn stupid idea.'<br />
<br />
Jayci's tombstone grin didn't falter. 'The great thing is, Phoe-Phoe, you don't have any choice.'<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.thisburningman.blogspot.co.uk/2016/04/chapter-8-back-to-school.html">Go to Chapter 8 > > ></a> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7753493029931671086.post-520495840769643242016-03-13T09:57:00.000+00:002016-03-27T16:58:02.573+01:00Chapter 6 - Jayci'You ain't Emmanuel Duguid.'<br />
<br />
'Ain't nothing gets past you,' I said.<br />
<br />
Jayci Clemence nudged at my shoulder with the steel-toecap of her size five. 'So where is he?'<br />
<br />
I looked down, past my feet, and she moved that way. When I sat up, she was holding Duguid's corpse by the lapels. His head was lolling behind him like a melon in a sack. There was a terrible smell in the air, like bacon gone bad.<br />
<br />
'Goddamn it, you killed him!' Clemence said.<br />
<br />
'Hey, he killed hisself,' I shrugged. 'I told him not to go pulling that trigger.'<br />
<br />
Clemence glanced down at the gun, distracted for a moment by the laser, which wasn't the sort of thing even a seasoned hunter saw often. But that girl wasn't the sort to get easily derailed when she was pissed. She dropped Duguid like a bad habit, grabbed me by my collar and started shaking for all she was worth.<br />
<br />
'This is still your fault, you dumbass! Who gave you the right to stick your nose into my business?'<br />
<br />
The blood was rushing from my head to my chest and back again, making me feel like I was floating. 'Hey, it was you who nearly blew me to kingdom come.'<br />
<br />
'Damn shame I didn't,' she said, with feeling.<br />
<br />
By now my eyes were trying to roll back into my head and my breakfast wasn't resting so well. 'Can you stop shaking me now?'<br />
<br />
She let me go, and my strength returned a half-second too late to stop the back of my head crashing onto the floor. The timbers cracked beneath me. When the amber lights behind my eyes died down, I opened them to see her pacing from side-to-side and kicking at the rubble.<br />
<br />
'Fuck,' she said. 'This is bullshit!'<br />
<br />
'I'm sensing you're a bit upset,' I said.<br />
<br />
She rounded on me again, and leaned in so I could see the fire in her mud-coloured eyes. 'You think so? You know we don't get full bounty for dead men.'<br />
<br />
I pulled myself upright. 'You don't get no bounty at all.'<br />
<br />
Her expression changed from angry to dangerous. 'Say what, now?'<br />
<br />
Ah, what the hell. In for a cent, in for a buck. 'You said yourself that I was the one that killed him. That means whatever bounty there is, is mine.'<br />
<br />
She shot me a look that could have curdled milk and kicked me full in the shin. No mule could have done better.<br />
<br />
'Owww! Motherf...goddamn it.' I retreated, picked up my gun, checked it and put it back in the holster. Jayci smouldered in my stead, her expression unchanging.<br />
<br />
'Don't make me shoot you,' she said. Her lips were so thin that they basically weren't there.<br />
<br />
'As if I'd do something like that.'<br />
<br />
'Do you know how long it took me to find out that our man here was on a religious guilt trip? Do you know how many deacons I had to sweet-talk?' <br />
<br />
'How exactly d'you go about sweet-talking a deacon?'<br />
<br />
'Some of them holy men ain't so pious as they pretend,' she said.<br />
<br />
'So you-'<br />
<br />
'No! Goddamnit. I just know people, okay? God. Then there was the charge for the hovertrike, plus-'<br />
<br />
'How in hell do you afford a hovertrike? Those things don't come cheap.' Hovertrikes worked like small, underfoot rotors that carried a charge, though juice was expensive and charges didn't last long. Still, when you weighed as much as Jayci Clemence, there wasn't much to carry.<br />
<br />
'It's none of your goddamn business how I afford anything,' she growled, puffing up like a angry bird. 'Maybe I just happen to be really good at this bounty-hunting business. That is, when other dumbfucks ain't killing the bads.'<br />
<br />
'I kinda thought...'<br />
<br />
'Kinda thought what?'<br />
<br />
'I thought maybe you were out here with a partner. It didn't seem likely that you were gonna bring Duguid down on your own.'<br />
<br />
She laughed mirthlessly. 'What, you think I can't take care of myself, is that it?'<br />
<br />
'Not at all.' My shin was still throbbing.<br />
<br />
''Cause at least I can fire a taser in a straight line, unlike some people I could mention.'<br />
<br />
'Lobbing the grenades into the tower was a keen trick,' I said.<br />
<br />
'Would have worked too if you hadn't been here,' she said ruefully. 'Those things weren't cheap either, you know. You gonna pay me back for those?'<br />
<br />
'No,' I replied. 'I'll let you off this time. But don't try to kill me again.'<br />
<br />
She laughed again, for real this time, I think. The roof creaked above us and a beam crashed down a few feet away, throwing up another pile of dust.<br />
<br />
'This was a nice church before you arrived,' I said.<br />
<br />
'Ah, God doesn't care about us down here,' Jayci replied. 'If he's up there at all, he's probably got a lot more things to worry about than what we get up to. You know, he's probably like...cloud racing, or something.'<br />
<br />
'Is that a thing?'<br />
<br />
'It should be.' She moved over into the space where the tower had been and stared upwards into the sky. The sun was hot, and the light shone off those jet-black braids. I wanted to ask, but I figured now maybe wasn't the time.<br />
<br />
'You got room for a dead one on the hovertrike?' I asked.<br />
<br />
She looked over her shoulder, and in profile, I could see her long, thin nose, which was more red than the rest of her face. For a desert girl, it looked like a long while since she'd seen the sun. 'Changed your mind about the bounty?'<br />
<br />
'I feel bad,' I said. 'I wasn't here for the bounty anyhow.'<br />
<br />
'I ain't even going to ask,' she said, and went outside to retrieve her bag. My rope and grappling hook were both long gone, blown to smithereens with the whole west side of the building, but Jayci had the full kit and in no time, our cadaver was trussed and resting comfortably on the rear of the hovertrike. She tested it, and it bounced a bit on the sand, but once she'd adjusted for the weight, it was clear she could manage. I retrieved the bike, and in no time, we were headed back south to the Quartermasters.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * *</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-n8Zg4BhYiMM/VsENGrAnalI/AAAAAAAABCY/Dy26gS5tvw8/s1600/desert.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-n8Zg4BhYiMM/VsENGrAnalI/AAAAAAAABCY/Dy26gS5tvw8/s320/desert.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I was sitting outside on a rock in the shade when Jayci returned. Truth is, I was lost in thought and didn't even see her coming. First I realised she was there at all was when she dropped a small canvas bag between my knees.<br />
<br />
'Half and half,' she said. 'Don't let no-one say that Jayci Clemence don't play fair.'<br />
<br />
'Oh,' I said, before resting my head back on my hands. 'Thanks.'<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
'It's okay, pardner,' she said, exaggerating her accent on the final word. 'I'm not expecting your gratitude or nothing. Some people would've just shot you when you were lying on your lazy ass in the middle of the desert.'<br />
<br />
'I am grateful,' I said. 'Truly.'<br />
<br />
'You sound like a man grateful for syphilis,' she said, and it was my turn to laugh, even though my heart was hurting.<br />
<br />
'Aw...it's not the money. I've got water for six weeks and rent for three more,' I said.<br />
<br />
'Then why in hell are you so cut up?' She scuffed at the dust between us, moved it around with her toe.<br />
<br />
'Duguid knew my mother. He might have been the last person who met her before she disappeared.'<br />
<br />
'That sucks,' Jayci said, stretching and adjusting her hat. 'How long ago did she go missing?'<br />
<br />
'Ten years.'<br />
<br />
'How is it you can find a bad in the desert in a few hours, but can't find your own mother in ten years?' Jayci seemed genuinely perturbed, and she scanned the horizon with her eyes as she talked. The braids brushed her ankles as they moved in the breeze.<br />
<br />
'I don't know,' I said, beginning to regret that I'd brought up the subject at all. I scooped up the canvas bag, shook it slightly out of habit. All chits weighed the same, but it still felt far too light when I thought about the six-month bounty I could have had for bringing Duguid in alive. 'You kind of interrupted the conversation before he could tell me anything useful.'<br />
<br />
'He say anything at all?'<br />
<br />
'Not much. Rumours about a group of women living out in an oasis somewhere. It was a hundred miles out or more. Not the kind of distance you just do without planning.'<br />
<br />
'There are settlements out in the Sands,' she said. 'Maybe your mom got to one of them.'<br />
<br />
'There's a lot more than settlements out there. There are bandits and thieves. Killers. All sorts of weird, freakin' wild animals. Things that science can't explain. They say if you go far enough, it's like stepping into another world. Someone wants to disappear, it's the place to go.'<br />
<br />
'You think she wanted to disappear?'<br />
<br />
I thought about it, thought about the signs. I had no way of knowing whether Duguid had been right about my mom's troubled mind. Looking back now, I could remember long silences, times that we didn't talk. But everyone's got a right to space in their own mind. Who could say what else was going on in there?<br />
<br />
'I don't know,' I admitted. 'I know she was looking for someone, but that's not much to go on. She was a hunter. But going more than a hundred miles into the Sands...that's different. I make a decent living and I've never needed to travel close to half that distance. I've spent all my adult life out in the Sands and I'm sure I ain't seen more than a tiny bit of it.'<br />
<br />
Jayci looked at me properly then, like she was seeing me for the first time. She done screwed up her eyes like she was looking at the sun. I could practically hear her thinking.<br />
<br />
Finally, she said, 'I ain't gonna promise you nothin', Phoenix. But maybe, just maybe, I can help you.'<br />
<br />
I looked inside the canvas bag. It was every bit as light as its weight had suggested.<br />
<br />
'How can you help me?' I asked.<br />
<br />
For the briefest of moments, Jayci's eyes flashed with something other than her customary anger. 'Because I know a man that knows the Sands.'<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.thisburningman.blogspot.co.uk/2016/03/chapter-7-man-with-map-in-his-head.html">Go to Chapter 7 > > ></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7753493029931671086.post-55694345956756924132016-02-28T00:26:00.000+00:002016-03-13T10:06:07.605+00:00Chapter 5 - Shit Gets RealDuguid didn't so much stand up as unfold, one set of joints at a
time. He had a casual way about him, like he wasn't gonna hurry for
no man, regardless of the circumstances. His legs were long enough
that he could have stepped over me without so much as realising I was
there. His nose and chin were pointed in a way the photo hadn't
captured. The sharp edges they created just made him look all the
more dangerous. The handgun holstered on his hip looked powerful
enough to punch a hole in a tank.
<br />
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Taser is a hunter's weapon,' he said. His voice was rich,
echoed around the space above me with all the inherent threat of
storm clouds.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'As God is my witness, I'm not here for bounty,' I said. 'I want to
talk about someone from your past, someone you knew once a long time
ago.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Muscles rippled under his vest. 'I'm listening,' he said.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">'Years
ago when I was a kid, you used</span></span> to come to Twelve.
After the services, you used to stay behind sometimes and talk to my
mother. Tall woman, long hair, leather boots. Maybe you remember
her.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
'Maybe I remember her.
Why do you care?'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
'She went missing after
you left,' I said. 'I want to find her.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
His handsome face
twisted then, like one of those demons they tell you about in
stories. 'Are you accusing me of something?'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
'No. I got no evidence
that you were involved. Be honest, I ain't got nothing at all. I
want a lead, some new information, something I haven't heard before.
I guess...I want to know if you can help me.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
'So you say you want
help, but you sneak up on a man while he's praying and point a taser
at him.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
'Yeah, well, maybe
you'll forgive me for that. I thought if maybe I came in the front
door, you might not give me a chance to talk at all.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Duguid squared onto me
but made no attempt to approach. For my part, I lowered the taser
maybe an inch, but I wanted something there that at least gave me a
fighting chance if he changed his mind.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
'This woman...your
mother...yes, I remember her. Very pretty girl. The bluest eyes.
But she had a troubled mind. She was a hunter, and she was looking
out in the desert.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
'For what? What was
she was looking for?'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
'For who. She'd heard
a story about a group of women holed up in an oasis a hundred miles or more out of town. She thought the
person she wanted might be with them, and wanted to know if I could
verify the stories.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
'And could you?'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
'I hear things all the
time. But who's to say what's true? The Sands are forever shifting.
What's there today ain't always gonna be there tomorrow.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
My hands were trembling
now. 'Who was the person, and where was the oasis?'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
He scowled at me, and I
got a sense that his patience was wearing thin. 'Boy, we're talking conversations that are ten years old. You're lucky your mother was so
fine, else I don't reckon I'd remember her at all.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
'Can you give me a
direction for this oasis?' I said.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
He snorted with
laughter. 'A direction. You gonna go out there and pick up her
trail?'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I levelled the taser.
'If you give me the direction, I'll go now and get out of your face forever.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iOCMe5gXUFE/VsEKuFHyAOI/AAAAAAAABCM/toexGV15ffo/s1600/Immaculate_Conception_Catholic_Church_%2528Cottonwood%252C_Arizona%2529%252C_interior%252C_nave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iOCMe5gXUFE/VsEKuFHyAOI/AAAAAAAABCM/toexGV15ffo/s320/Immaculate_Conception_Catholic_Church_%2528Cottonwood%252C_Arizona%2529%252C_interior%252C_nave.jpg" width="320" /></a>'Ten years it's been
and more,' Duguid said, turning away from me. 'Trail is cold, and so
is she. Go on. You go runnin', now.'
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I was so furious right there to see my mom's life written off in that way that I was all set to drop my taser and pull out my
pistol. I never got a chance 'cause at the same time, a dark blur
moved across the stained glass windows to my right. Duguid saw it
too. A harsh female voice that I recognized only too well rang out
from outside.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
'Emmanuel Duguid,
you're wanted for crimes against the state of Arizona. Get your ass
out here now!'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Duguid's gaze flicked
back to me, and his face curled into a snarl. 'Oh, I see. Keep me
occupied and pen me in. So much for God being your
witness.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;">I
pointed to the blur outside. </span>'Now, she ain't nothing to do
with me.' But he wasn't buying it, and in his shoes, I wouldn't have
either.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
For a big man, Duguid
could move. I fired the taser but he dodged it with ease, and his
gun was in his hand in the same movement. I ducked as he stood
up and his round shredded the pew to my left, turning it to
matchwood.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I rolled, laser tight
now in my hands, but if I shot this man, I was risking losing any
chance of finding my mom. The cold metal grip was just another
reminder of her.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
A second round crashed
over my head and tore an effigy of Jesus off the wall. A third
shattered one of the stained glass windows. I popped a candy jack. Duguid's absolution was
going to have to wait a while.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
'Taking your time
getting out here,' Jayci Clemence called. 'Hurry on up, now.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
For a moment, all was
silence and I lay still as the dead, straining my ears to hear
movement. From Duguid's direction there was nothing, but from behind
me, I heard three soft thumps, like baseballs hitting a glove.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
In slow-motion, I
looked round to see the small, ball-shaped devices that had followed
my route down from the bell tower. Nestled in the dust, they might
have been goose eggs, except for the trigger and handle on the top of
each that told a different story.
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Jayci Clemence most
definitely had a plan. She was gonna flush the bad out.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I ran then, and there
was only one way to go.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The explosion took out
the wall, the tower, half the roof and it also forced me through all
of the pews left in the building. When I came to, I was looking up
at the sky, turned crazy grey by the dust, and then when my eyes
refocused, I was staring down the barrel of my own gun. Duguid's
weapon might have been lost to him, but it was clear he wasn't a man
to turn down an opportunity.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
I said, 'Wait a minute here. You don't want to be doing that.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'No trigger on this chigger. I'm guessing you just squeeze this
little plastic bit here?'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Emmanuel, believe me, you don't wanna go pressing that.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'I don't think you can go telling me to do anything,' he snarled.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Tell me which direction the oasis was,' I begged. 'I need to know.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Oh, enough of that shit.' He pulled me up only as a precursor to
throwing me down again, and then kicked me in the midriff.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Doubled up, I looked past him at the crumbling masonry overhead, and
then glanced to the side where the wall had been five minutes before.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'You can still get out of here,' I said. 'We can still get out of
here. I'll come with you. We can talk. But do not, do not squeeze
that trigger.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'You got a funny way of begging for your life.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'This isn't about me.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Not for much longer, anyhow.' Duguid slammed me down again and again. Fury set his eyes hard, like cut gems
from the heart of the earth. I could see him now, the man that could slaughter an entire family, kids and dogs and all, just for breaking a promise.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Please.' One last try.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Any last words, momma's boy?'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
It was hopeless. 'Ain't none you're gonna listen to, are there?'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'True, that.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Duguid squeezed the panel that released the laser bolt. Green lights
ran the length of the barrel, and something in the gun began to
sizzle, like meat on a skillet. His head jerked upwards, and his
limbs spasmed out, like he was dancing to music only he could hear.
The gun fell from his grip, and he dropped to the floor beside it. He lay there, perfectly still, smoke rising from his hair, mouth and eyes.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
The candy jack must have kicked in at some point, but I wasn't feeling it. Instead, I laid back down, my eyes watering, and willed the whole damn place
to fall in on me.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://thisburningman.blogspot.co.uk/2016/03/chapter-6-jayci.html">
(GO TO CHAPTER SIX) > > ></a> </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7753493029931671086.post-26328025638098617072016-02-14T11:41:00.000+00:002016-02-28T00:28:06.562+00:00Chapter 4 - God in the Sands<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Carter definitely knew about Emmanuel Duguid.
</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'That man's a giant. He's got the build of a longhorn
steer and about a tenth of the charm.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'I've brought in big men before,' I said.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'You be careful,' Carter said to me. 'This one gets the red mists. When he's cold, he's stone
cold.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
She showed me the file they kept on Duguid. There had been a business deal, a family willing to sell Duguid a
ranch at a knockdown price. When they unexpectedly came into some
money, the deal was off. It's fair to say that it didn't go down too
well for anyone concerned.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'He figures they lied to him. He can't stand it, so he shoots the owner's wife, their three children and all of their
dogs. Then when he's done with the rest of the family, he strangles the owner,
right there, at the head of his own table.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Carter took her time flicking through the file. Finally, she came across a single photo and passed it across to me.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Emmanuel Duguid was maybe forty years old. In the picture Carter
gave me, he was standing on decking next to one of those old-style
rocking chairs, reaching out with an arm to grab some child's toy
that was stuck on the roof.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'You weren't kidding when you said he was a giant,' I said.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Carter sipped her coffee. 'I got reports saying he's all of seven
feet tall. Now, I know some of those good ol' boys get a bit free
and easy with the details when they've had a few, but make no
mistake, this guy is huge. You ain't going toe-to-toe with him,
that's for sure.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
The bounty was significant, enough to live on comfortably for six
months. The government had put it up. That only happened for people
they really, really wanted out of the Sands. A crime like
this wasn't bread and butter for every hunter. Some people preferred
to paddle in the pool rather than swim in the sea.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Carter said, 'I wouldn't blame you if you walked away from this one,
Phoenix. I don't think anyone would.'
</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Honest truth, I didn't want anything to do with Emmanuel Duguid. It
was probably a miracle that the Deacons had got him out of Twelve
without him gutting half the clergy. But he was maybe the only
chance I had of finding my mom.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'It's fine,' I said.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Give me your tag for the peg,' Carter said, in her most procedural
voice.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Dog-tags got hung on a peg till hunters got back to claim them.
After two weeks, the tags went from the pegs to the lost property
drawer, at which point they got claimed by your next of kin.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ly1qJ7Q6vZ0/VrdOu5q3T5I/AAAAAAAABBQ/crTvmNsT_1Y/s1600/CanfVKMW4AAPZbi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ly1qJ7Q6vZ0/VrdOu5q3T5I/AAAAAAAABBQ/crTvmNsT_1Y/s200/CanfVKMW4AAPZbi.jpg" width="150" /></a><br />
As I watched, Carter hung my tag on a peg that was already occupied.
That only happened when multiple people were looking for the same
bad. It shouldn't have been so surprising, what with the sum of the
bounty and all, but most tags were military style, plain and engraved
with a name. The tag I was sharing a peg with this time was
different. It was perfectly black, with the face and whiskers of a
little cat at the top.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Who's tag is that?' I asked?</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Clemence,' Carter said.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'I don't think I know Clemence.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'You know Jayci Clemence.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
It took me a moment. 'Clemence the emo girl? All five-feet-nothing
of her? You're shitting me, right?'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Carter raised an eyebrow. 'Do I frequently shit you, Phoenix?'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
There were all the mental images I didn't need. 'No, ma'am.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Well then.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'So you let Jayci Clemence go after our stone-cold killer?'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Let her?' Oh my, was that wording a mistake on my part. 'Now pardon me, Mister, but my job involves giving you all the facts and letting you make your own mind up about what you can and can't do. Clemence knows what you know, and all evidence points to the fact that she's got a smarter head on her shoulders than you do. If you think that she needs a helping hand just because she's a woman-'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
I whipped my hat off my head and held it across my chest. 'No ma'am, I would never think that.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Damn right you wouldn't.' Carter settled down behind her desk and opened one of the technical
manuals that were sitting there. 'Get your ass outta here.'
</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
I did just that while I still had an ass worth saving.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
---</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Don't get me wrong. It wasn't that female bounty hunters weren't a
thing. My mom was one, don't forget. It's just that Jayci Clemence
didn't exactly fit the mold. I could have reached my thumb and
forefinger round her arm at the widest point. She had this pinched
face and a temper that always seemed like you dragged her out of bed
before sunrise. Her braids hung down so far it was a wonder she
didn't trip over'em when walking. From her eyebrows, you could see
her hair was naturally light, but the braids were black as midnight.
Rumour was she dipped 'em in tar.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
That said, I didn't know Clemence so well. Maybe she had a partner
out there. Some of the most famous bounty hunters were those that
hunted in pairs – when you had someone watching your back, it was
all the more likely you'd come home. Even so, economies and human
natures being what they are, it was no real surprise that it wasn't
really that common. Trust took time to build, and when you were
scraping by, you didn't want to share your bounties with someone else
– especially when that someone else was soon as likely to cut your
throat in the night and steal your water chit.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Basic hunter gear wasn't so hard to come by. I could believe that
Clemence could rustle up a cattle-prod big enough to take down a
drunken rancher, but I was struggling to imagine her rolling up alone
at the depot with Duguid hogtied on the back of her trailer. I
figured that maybe she was playing Bonnie to someone else's Clyde.
</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Carter wasn't about to tell me any more about what Clemence
had planned, so I figured I was good to just go ahead and chase down
the bad myself. I had that advantage of knowing where to look. After what
had happened at Twelve, it didn't seem likely that Duguid was gonna
be welcome at any other compound, so my rough plan was to head out
north and check out all the premises on the road. Men looking for
God often found Him, so I had to make sure I caught up with him
before that happened.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
I checked out a few places along the road itself, all of which turned
out to be empty. When the obvious places were checked, I moved on to
those that were a bit more off the beaten track. Ten miles outside
of Hole Town, I took a left down a narrow path behind a sandstone
outcrop. Out here in the middle of nowhere, I knew of an abandoned
church with a sharply-sloped roof. The community it supported had
long since headed for the shelter of the big town, and just the
stark, whitewashed walls of this lost house of the Lord remained.
This was a shady place indeed, one where a man concerned about his
mortal soul could seek absolution undisturbed.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
I pulled the motorbike up where the path gave way to dunes and laid
it down in a dip in the sand. There was no movement in or outside
that I could see, but circling around slowly, I could see a Chevy
parked among the dunes out back. That had to be Duguid's car.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
There was just the main doors that I could see from the ground level,
but if I trapped him in the space, there was every chance he was
gonna try to shoot his way out. I wasn't concerned about the bounty;
I needed to have the conversation.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
It's a well-worn observation that man cannot live by bread alone; so
it is that a hunter can't get by with just his gun and his taser –
he's gotta have his wits and one or two other tools that'll help him
out too. One of those tools is rope, and mine was tagged onto a
grappling hook that went up over the top of the building. I tugged
on it, and judged it good to hold my skinny ass up as far as the bell
tower.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NTjfT3lKcJw/VrdSTVeVTOI/AAAAAAAABBc/JOvjkB5YL8o/s1600/Immaculate_Conception_Catholic_Church_%2528Cottonwood%252C_Arizona%2529%252C_interior%252C_nave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NTjfT3lKcJw/VrdSTVeVTOI/AAAAAAAABBc/JOvjkB5YL8o/s320/Immaculate_Conception_Catholic_Church_%2528Cottonwood%252C_Arizona%2529%252C_interior%252C_nave.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
Nimble as a cat, I was through the tiny window and crouched on the
platform just inside. Below, I could hear a man praying in a
language I only vaguely recognized. Spanish, maybe, or Creole. I
had no ear for that sorta thing.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
I leaned down as low as I could. Duguid had his back to me, kneeling
down in front of the altar. Slipping down the bellrope silently, I
assumed a position behind a pew at the back of the room and
breathed a prayer of my own.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
For a short while, there were my words, and there were his words, and
it was like the Lord hisself was stood between us, counting steps before
the duel.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br />
When the whispering had stopped and the silence got to lengthen, I slipped my taser out of my pocket and pointed it at his back.
'Emmanuel Duguid. I need to talk to you about Catholic Compound Twelve.'<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.thisburningman.blogspot.co.uk/2016/02/chapter-5-shit-gets-real.html">(GO TO CHAPTER 5) > > ></a></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7753493029931671086.post-73190395095317360402016-01-31T14:11:00.000+00:002016-02-14T23:06:31.771+00:00Chapter 3 - Preacher Man<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Being
back at Twelve was like walking back to childhood, except everything
you see has shrunk.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Actually,
check that. The deacons on the door remained as large as ever,
offering me God's blessing as I stepped through the gate. A certain
bulkiness in their robes hinted at handguns in chest holsters. I
checked my mom's gun and my taser in the office at the front and a
rector with wispy grey hair showed me through to a back room where I
found Preacher Man lighting a censer with shaking hands.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'A
surprise for you, Padre Reyes,' the rector said, a little too loudly,
before bowing and retreating.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="text-decoration: none;">'Fifty
years I have lived here,' the old man said in a raspy voice. 'Fifty years, and I remember the ceremony
like it was yesterday. “</span><i><span style="font-style: normal;">For
my yoke is easy and my burden light”.</span></i> <span style="text-decoration: none;">
Matthew, 11:30. And after all this time, they treat me like a silly,
sad old fool. Me, a veteran of five thousand services, able to
recite the passages of Leviticus from memory even though I haven't
read them since my nineteenth birthday. I tell them, I might not
have my sight but I can still hear, and every single man's footfalls
sound different to me.'</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
I
waited patiently, hat in hands. Preacher Man never used ten words
when a hundred would do.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Will
you step forward, son, and receive my blessing?'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Surely,
Padre, I would like that very much.' I stepped forward and he
embraced me. He'd been taller in my younger days, but the weight of
the world and advanced age was pressing him down. Stooping, he was
now shorter than me.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
He
said, 'Every time you leave I wonder if you'll ever return. How long
has it been, Phineas?'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'A
year and a half, Padre. And we've been through this before. Mom
called me Phoenix after the place. You know that.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
He
winked at me. 'I always hoped you might take to the name I suggested
instead.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Not
a hope in h...no. Not a hope.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Phoenix
has unwelcome connotations. It sank into the Sands years ago. The
last residents abandoned it and came to Hole Town. Soon it'll be a
place forgotten in the minds of all but those who come from
hereabouts,' he said.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'I
was born local,' I told him. 'Everywhere I go, I still am.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
He
put an arm around my shoulder, both a comradely gesture and one that
enabled him to walk without a stick. 'Whatever they call you, you're
a virtuous son of Hole Town. A righter of wrongs, that's what they
tell me.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Then
they make it sound better than it is,' I said.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'It's
not just the scripture writers of the ages that had a gift for words,' he said, smiling toothlessly under his rheumy eyes. 'Will
you dine with me?'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V6AjnVOko3s/Vq4P4KDPyuI/AAAAAAAABA4/CdnRMuBOYuk/s1600/Stained_Glass_Inside_Trinity_Church%252C_Boston%252C_Massachusetts.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="162" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V6AjnVOko3s/Vq4P4KDPyuI/AAAAAAAABA4/CdnRMuBOYuk/s400/Stained_Glass_Inside_Trinity_Church%252C_Boston%252C_Massachusetts.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
We
ate thin cornmeal soup from wooden bowls with wooden spoons. He
hadn't left the compound in years, so we mostly talked about the
town. The church was pressing for repairs to the Fallen Cross, but
no-one had the cash to pay the bill. He chastised me when I
mentioned the bordellos, and urged me to avoid the numerous follies
of youth. In so many respects, it was like I'd never left. The company here was never
too slow for me. If a man's life is measured by his gusto, Preacher
Man was ageless, mashing his way through his soup in next to no time
at all.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'As
delighted as I am to have you here, boy, I know what young men are
like and they don't just show up uninvited to share a meal with their
older counterparts. More's the pity! So how can I help you? Do you
come seeking absolution for your sins?'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Well,'
I said, suddenly twelve years old again, a guilty itch all round my
scalp. 'Basically, I'm still looking for my mom.'
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Before
I'd even finished the sentence, the old man had his hands up to his
head and was groaning.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'This
again,' he said. 'This waste of time! My son, you were a good boy
and you grew up to be a good man. But part of being a man is letting
go of what you were when you were a boy. Since the moment your
mother left you here, you've been aching to return to her, and you
know full well that I don't know where she is.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'It's
been a long time,' I said, trying to stay patient. 'I wanted to know
if you remembered anything more. It's not easy, growing up without a
family. And while I appreciate all that you did for me, you can
never be a parent. That's just how it is.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Plenty
of people turn sixteen having never known their parents. In these
trying times, we look to one another, and we look to God for
guidance.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'God's
been guiding my hand since the day I left here,' I said, 'and every
time He delivers me, it's from evil and temptation. I ain't saying I
ain't thankful, but one of these times, I'd like Him to deliver me to
somewhere, rather than from. That's all.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Preacher
Man wiped his mouth with a napkin and swallowed. 'God deliver me from foolish,
blasphemous boys.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'All
I'm asking you to do is think, Padre. Is there anyone else who knew her?
Anyone you could put me in touch with? Someone who could help me
track her down. I can handle it if she doesn't remember me. I can
even handle it if she doesn't care. But I have to know, you get me?
I have to know.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'You
must let it be. All things are as they are meant to be.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
I
took his hand, something that I immediately realized I'd never done
before. He noticed it too. We both stared down at the table, spoke
without looking at one another. 'Padre, please. If you know
anything, tell me. This really matters to me. As the Good Lord is
my witness, it might be the only thing that does.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Okay,
okay.' Preacher Man shook a little, caught his breath. Behind him,
the lights on the candles scattered and reformed into flames. 'You've
already followed up on all of the leads I've given you before, yes?
Well, against my better judgement, I have this. There's one man, a man I
haven't mentioned before. A Dominican called Emmanuel. He used to
be in the parish before your time, but he stopped coming shortly
after your mother arrived here. He moved on, the way that people do.
I remember that on more than one occasion, they stopped to talk at
the end of services. That's it. I don't know if they were close,
but she never seemed to talk to anyone else, so maybe it's
something.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Why
have you never mentioned him before?' I said.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'I
never expected to see him again. But...Emmanuel came back here two
days ago.'
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
The
old man was trembling. I wondered if his health was failing, or if it was due to something else. I
said, 'I appreciate you telling me this, Padre. It means a lot.
I'll ask around, see if I can find him.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
I
already had one hand on the door when Preacher Man stopped me.
'Wait. There's more.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'What?'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'When
Emmanuel came in, he was...troubled.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Troubled?'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Yes,'
the old man said. 'At the beginning, he was okay, but when the anger took him, it was like he became someone else. He was furious, cursing. The Deacons had to
remove him. His own actions were driving him mad. He was looking
for absolution, but I couldn't give it to him.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Padre,'
I said gently, 'he would have had to have done something really,
really bad for you to refuse him absolution.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
The
old priest bit his lip, like there was something he really wanted to
say but an equally powerful force held him back.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'If
I'm going to find this man, I really need to know what I'm getting
myself into,' I said. I hated to exploit the emotions of someone I
cared about, but I knew I wasn't going to get the information any
other way.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Down
within his cassock somewhere, the old man's layered bones racked up
into a shrug. 'You know I can't tell you what he said to me.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'And
yet you want me to know it,' I said, ''cause you haven't told me off
for asking.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
He
flinched, busied himself with the rosary within his hands. Counting
off the prayers. Thinking through the consequences.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pi6PX3L3V7A/Vq4QIuU9q8I/AAAAAAAABBA/gdZ3v5aYmlY/s1600/rosary.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pi6PX3L3V7A/Vq4QIuU9q8I/AAAAAAAABBA/gdZ3v5aYmlY/s200/rosary.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br />
'You
can tell me,' I said.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
'My
yoke is easy,' he replied, 'and my burden is light.'<br />
<br />
I looked him in the eye. 'My yoke is anything but easy, and my burden is knowing I might not come home tomorrow.' <br />
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<br />
He
turned his head and looked away from me. I wondered too late if maybe I'd pushed Preacher Man too far. Still, this Emmanuel and the promise of answers hovered just outside my reach, teasing in close and then flying away when I stretched out to them.
<br />
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
'Phoenix,'
he said finally, 'His full name is Emmanuel Duguid. When he left here, he
was very, very angry. I can tell you that he went north, out towards
the Sands, and you already know what he wants most. The
things that he did won't have escaped the attention of the people you do jobs for. I suggest you ask them back in the town.'
<br />
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Thank
you, Padre,' I said, picking up my hat. 'I'll do that.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Just so
you know...I wouldn't suggest that you look for him, much less
approach him. But then I guess that whatever I say isn't going to
make much difference, so consider yourself keeper of this
information. Do with it what you will.' I bent my head to the old man, kissed the fake ruby ring on his
claw-like fingers, and promised to return to him with good news the
next time I had some.<br />
<br />
By the time I stepped back over the threshold, the light was fading. The heat had drained out of the day and it left me glad of my jacket. Behind me, the lights of the compound poured into the void, and God's own home in the desert became the
coldest place on earth.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://thisburningman.blogspot.co.uk/2016/02/chapter-4-god-in-sands.html">(GO TO CHAPTER 4) >>></a> </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7753493029931671086.post-74446265031960344112016-01-16T22:15:00.000+00:002016-02-14T23:05:22.281+00:00Chapter 2 - Hole TownShe
called me Phoenix, 'cause that was where she pushed me out, deep in
the middle of the Sands, in a field hospital by the side of the road.
When it was done, they wrapped me in a military blanket, handed me
over and gave my mom the standard issue bottle of ionised water.
'For his eyes.'
<br />
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
In
the early days, it was just the two of us. Me, crying infant, snot
everywhere, her, leather-booted bounty hunter with legs so long that
she straddled the sky. She would ride from place to place as the
work demanded, cruising the crumbled desert roads atop her Goldwing.
That old thing was a pure beast of burden, but you can bet it'd beat
a midday desert walk every damn time.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hChnqZVyneo/Vpq_SWx4VFI/AAAAAAAABAc/l5pPw6N-HE8/s1600/A_scenic_view_of_lands_on_the_desert.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hChnqZVyneo/Vpq_SWx4VFI/AAAAAAAABAc/l5pPw6N-HE8/s320/A_scenic_view_of_lands_on_the_desert.jpg" /></a>She
could talk, my mom, and she could walk like a pro, and they tell me
she could fight. But one day she dropped me off with the local
preacher and went a hundred miles north of Hole Town into the desert
to go chasing a bad. Sun went down, sun came up, she never came
home. That's just how it happens.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
So
I stayed there with Preacher Man at Catholic Compound Twelve. I know
what you're thinking, but where's a kid gonna go? I was ten years
old, skinny as Death hisself. I had no wheels, no money, but I did
get something. Old Preacher must have been a honest man, because the
day I left the compound, he brought me a bundle of wax and cloth and
said, 'This is yours. She asked me to give it to you.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
It
was my mom's gun, the one I still carry. A beautiful, hand-crafted
silver-green automatic that sits in the palm like it was born there.
We're the same size, the same build, me and her. I point it, sight
it, and right away, I'm home.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'It's
<span style="font-style: normal;">a genuine antique</span>,' Preacher
Man said. 'But in beautiful condition. She said that to fire it,
you squeeze that plastic grid behind the guard. Nothing so crude as
mechanics for the old worlders.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'No
bullets?' I said.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'No
need,' he replied. 'It's a laser. Hang on now. She gave me a piece
of paper, wrote it all down. No-one trusts me to remember anything.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
So
Preacher Man spent five minutes looking through his breeches for the
paper, and that was a sight that no-one'll ever need to see twice,
believe me. After a lot of cussing and wasting, he found it,
unfolded it and began throwing around words like <i>DNA</i> and <i>solar
</i><span style="font-style: normal;">and </span><i>charging</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
and </span><i>efficiency</i><span style="font-style: normal;">. Now
me, I'd already seen enough and heard enough. Point and click, it's
that easy. No-one else can fire it but me, 'cause the gun is linked
to me through the blood. Want to make sure there's always a round in
the chamber? Stay in the light, my son.</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Some
people'll tell you that every answer leads to another question, and
this one leads quicker than most. I'd seen my mom go on jobs a
hundred times and she'd never once left her gun behind. She had
other weapons, I know. She kept a shotgun strapped to the muffler
and a blade in her jacket, but why would you leave behind your main
weapon – the one that gave you the biggest advantage? That's
something I never understood, and ten years later, I'm none the
wiser.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Preacher
Man taught me to read and write, and he told me lots of stories about
the old world while I was in Twelve. The old worlders had better
tech than us. A laser weapon never needed to be retooled, never got
sand in the mechanism. These days, though, the parts are impossible
to come by. Heck, these days, it's hard enough to pay for juice to
power a production line. We're back in the days of the whores and
the artisans, when every job is done by hand, with love.
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Preacher
Man once told me there was a time when every man had his own car, had
his own fence. They'd sit on their porches from dawn to dusk,
spraying water in their yard so they could grow their own stretch of
grass. Grass may seem like a strange thing to want, but when all you
see is sand all the time, I reckon maybe it does funny things to your
head.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Water;
now there's a problem, a problem for most. We may be luckier than
some, 'cause the mountains round here used to be topped by sheets of
ice. People lived up on the peaks in summer and travelled down the
mountains with the coming of winter. All of that water is long gone
from the mountaintops and now lies in a basin beneath the earth.
They guard it pretty damn close – you best believe it only comes up
for those that pay their way.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Course,
a man's gotta drink, whether he has money or not. Many men, they got
families, and all of them gotta drink too. Most things have value,
so barter's always an option, but sometimes a man's fingers are
quicker than his brain. They used to have a thing called petty
theft, but these days there ain't no such thing as petty. Military
doesn't want to waste resources chasing down every man's disputes, so
that's where the bounty hunters come in. The quartermasters log all
the complaints, all of the crazy, and then hand over to us to bring
'em in.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
As
well as theft, you can have a bounty on your head for a whole pile of
things: Fighting, looting, burning, siphoning, smirking at the wrong
man's woman. Hosting a demonic audience, whatever in hell that
means. Artful deceit. Chicanery. Abusive language. Malicious
lingering. Improper use of medicine. Possession of body parts -
that's those belonging to other people. Then there's worshipping the
wrong God. The last one used to be a real issue for Preacher Man.
In his quietest voice, he'd say, 'They're all the same God. We just
can't prove it yet.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
In
fact, the only misservice you can do a man that can't result in a
bounty is the greatest misservice of all – being rich when he's
not.
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Don't get me wrong, I can't complain. Without people arguing and
getting into petty fights, I'd have no job to do and I'd be an army
brat, chasing bombs somewhere abroad, or perhaps working down a
copper mine, counting away my youth in hours in the darkness. No,
that's not the place for me. Give me the warm winds, give me the
Sands. Give me Hole Town, beneath the Fallen Cross, where my heart
lives. You go there, and you tell 'em - daddy's coming home,
princess. Daddy's coming home.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;">
<b>---</b></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Name.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Waylon Boggs.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Criminal activity.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Non-payment of loans, rustling chickens, obstructing a hunter in
performance of his duties and ruining a factory wall by
smacking it repeatedly with his face.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Waylon himself was slumped over the counter, too out of it to really
add much to the conversation. The quartermaster, Sergeant Carter,
looked at him and then at me with disinterested eyes. The pips on
her shoulder hinted at active service, but she must have done someone
a right ol' favour to get a posting here at home rather than
overseas, fighting whichever war we'd got involved in this year.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
The bounty system worked well for Carter. She'd long since figured
that she got paid the same whether she spent the day chasing bads all
over the desert or sitting around in fatigues drinking beer. So she
got to be the Sheriff while the rest of us played cautious Deputy. I
kowtowed a little, because that was the way to keep her onside, and
having her onside meant I got first pick of the jobs and subtle
warnings that helped to keep me alive.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Nice job, Phoenix,' Carter said. 'Fourth one this month. You're
raking it in just now.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p0pZFZKVboE/VprAOMjVvQI/AAAAAAAABAo/f3mR9vfpib8/s1600/church0896-300x221.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p0pZFZKVboE/VprAOMjVvQI/AAAAAAAABAo/f3mR9vfpib8/s1600/church0896-300x221.jpg" /></a>'Well, you know me, ma'am. Gotta pay for my Playboy lifestyle
somehow.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'You just keep it legit, now.'
</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'What's he looking at?' I said.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Waylon? Well, it's a two-year for the birds, plus Old Man Winters
is hopping mad about his daughter. But it's an open secret that
she's got a soft spot for this jackass. I reckon he'll end up
getting bailed out within a few weeks. Unless you got anything you
want to add in?'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
My balls were still throbbing, but slamming Waylon's head on the
factory wall had been quite therapeutic. 'I got nothin',' I said.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Excellent.' Carter motioned in the back for a corporal to cuff
Waylon and take him through to the cells. I'd already turned to go
when Carter called after me. 'Wait up. You looking for something
new right now?'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Oh, soon,' I said. 'But first I gotta go see a man about a gun.'<br />
<br />
<a href="http://thisburningman.blogspot.co.uk/2016/01/chapter-3-preacher-man.html">(GO TO CHAPTER 3) >>> </a> </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7753493029931671086.post-7617121424458308002016-01-01T13:53:00.000+00:002016-02-14T23:04:01.868+00:00Chapter 1 - A Way of Life<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ib1ScsxBVu8/VoZ7izxiWJI/AAAAAAAAA_k/59QZrSRHaKk/s1600/desertfactory.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ib1ScsxBVu8/VoZ7izxiWJI/AAAAAAAAA_k/59QZrSRHaKk/s320/desertfactory.jpg" width="320" /></a>I'd
barely finished my prayer when the bad decided he wasn't going to
wait, and instead he came to me. I was leaning on the wall at the
precise spot where he came through it, and those hepped-up hillbilly
fellas are no more likely to stop for a wall than a Mack truck.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
His
charge took the tazer out of my hand, so I had to stop him the only
other way I could. I stuck out my foot and he went right over it,
through the rusty metal barrier opposite and down the scaffolding,
all the way to the bottom.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Thirty
feet down should've taken some sting out of him, but he didn't know
when to quit. He was up on his feet again and running out towards
the highway, and likely I'd have lost him if there hadn't been a
support pole right there. I slid down three stories and landed
slightly less than graceful, but it meant I could still give chase.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
He
was a strong one, that was for sure, and pretty damn shrewd too. He
knew I was right behind him, and as he ran through the factory
complex he pulled at every storage container and loose piece of
machinery so they fell down behind him. I was hurdling and ducking,
and it was no surprise when he reached the central staircase well
ahead of me.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Give
it up, Waylon,' I said.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Screw
you, asshole!' As I reached the top of the staircase, a pile of
pipes and other debris fell through the gap above. I stepped aside
and let it clatter past.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'You're
all just wasting my time, now.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'I
got all the time in the world,' he said. 'Just you wait and see.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
A
half-second later I was on a level with him. 'Your time is running
out. Best believe it.'</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
I
was gaining then but he skipped onto a gantry and swung himself up
before kicking one of the support bars out behind him. Instead of
following him up, I went along the same way and met him coming down.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Waylon
stopped, gave me the eyes and then kicked out at me, sending me
sprawling. I was upright again in a flash, but he'd headed back
where he'd come from. I was three whole steps behind. This wasn't
my smartest move, as there was no room up there to swing a cat, but
g<span style="font-weight: normal;">oddammit, if he didn't jump
straight off the end, pull a damned somersault out of his ass and
grab onto a pulley that was swinging from the ceiling. By the time
my gun was in my hand, he'd circled around and was hanging directly
over a container of rubbish way down on the floor below.</span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
This was the first time I'd seen Waylon still, and with his long arms
extended, every shining muscle and vein stood out for inspection. He
may have had greasy hair and a beard you coulda lived in, but a good
woman could have hosed him down, shaved him to the quick and maybe
made something of him. Right now he was looking down, gauging
distance, running everything over in his mind.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Long way down,' I said, conversationally.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Soft landing,' he replied.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'If you land on your head, maybe.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
There was a dumpster load of cardboard or paper or some similar shit
down there in the container below, but no way to tell how deep it
went. The thick layer of dust over all of it would probably count
for something. I could tell he wasn't so sure about it, though, else
he'd have already gone.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Why in hell you chasing me anyway?' he said.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'You owe a man called Winters $500.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Fuck me, for real? Old Man Winters is a goddamn millionare.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'I know, and he's got better things to do than chase your sorry ass.
I wouldn't be here, except you done screwed his daughter.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Why's it his fucking business what I do?'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
''Cos a rich man don't want no hick grandkids,' I said.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YURxlEh2Ius/VoZ8ZiRfZ3I/AAAAAAAAA_s/NYEb4AxxjuI/s1600/desertfactory27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YURxlEh2Ius/VoZ8ZiRfZ3I/AAAAAAAAA_s/NYEb4AxxjuI/s400/desertfactory27.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Waylon adjusted his grip and I could tell he was struggling. 'You
ain't no better than me.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'I ain't stupid enough to do the dirty with Missy Winters.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
He blinked back sweat. 'Hey now, it was her what got fresh with me,
you hear?'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'That's not what she says.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'She got a whore mouth. I'm telling you, that's the truth.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Waylon's denims were hanging loose off his shoulders. They probably
had a fortnight's wear in them, and were looking all the worse for
it. He had a dark stain on his chest, probably from spilling gas
while filling up his pickup.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Are we done?' I said.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
He looked at me, looked down one more time and then looked up again.
I saw his eyes, saw his jaw set. Saw his intention. 'One way or
another I gotta come down.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Aw, c'mon, Waylon, don't do nothing stupid, now,' I said.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'See you on the other side.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'You're going to buy yourself a toe-tag,' I warned.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Hang here or hang there, what's the difference?'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
He had a point. 'Not much,' I said.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'When you see Old Man Winters again, tell him I gave it to her up the
wazzoo, and she loved every goddamn minute of it.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
He dropped.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
I'll tell you I'm a lucky man, blessed even, but Waylon must have
paid his dues a hundred times in kind words, rosaries and votive
candles. He landed perfectly in the container, chucking up a dust
cloud that meant no chance of me getting a clear shot at him. I
thought for a moment about jumping for the pulley and swallow-diving
after him, but fortunately my love for the Good Lord doesn't compel
me to push my luck too far. I could hear Waylon's footsteps
disappearing deeper into the factory, and knew there was only one way
to head him off – I had to get to the pickup before he did.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
I barrel rolled down the stairs and sprinted for the massive window
opposite. A round from the laser pistol cracked the frosted glass
ahead and then it was elbows up by my face, head down, hit and hope.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
Hitting the glass with a crack and splintering the damn thing near
everywhere, I rolled out onto a balcony above the parking lot,
picking up all sorts of scratches, cuts and other happy things
that would have to wait until later. Right on cue, Waylon ran
beneath and I dropped down. I managed to catch him with a boot
between the shoulder blades and he went face first into a pile of
loose boards someone had stacked up by the outer wall. I hoped it
was less painful than it looked. Either way, this time he got up a
lot more slowly than before.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
I popped a candy jack for energy. 'Give it up now. I'm right out of
breath.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
He goggled at me. 'Who in hell are you, anyway?'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
I tugged my jacket open, showed him the Guild badge. 'My name is
Phoenix. I'm working out of Hole Town.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
He hit me then, real fucking hard.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
When everything had stopped spinning, I realized I'd fallen away to
one side. My jaw was throbbing but I was in too much pain to close
my mouth. Waylon wasn't done. He pulled my leg away to one side,
and then gave me one of his size twelves, right in the balls.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
I think I maybe cried a bit, though honestly all I remember is things
going white and everything that wasn't my crotch ceasing to matter
for a while. When I stopped rolling around and whimpering, I saw
Waylon standing over me, lit cigarette in one hand.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
'You asshole,' I said. 'My fuckin' kids ain't even been born yet and
already they're hurtin'.' <br />
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Like you wouldn't have done the same to me.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'I'm gonna do the same to you when I get a chance. Best believe it.'
I rolled upright and tested each of my teeth in turn with my
fingers. 'Goddamnit. You nearly broke my jaw.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
He punched me again, adding a whole new layer of pain to the ones I
was in already. 'See, you goddamn hunters think this is some kind of
game. You chase us down, slap us around and sell us back to your
bosses. We do a spell in the Pen, and in a year or two, go back to
our slave jobs and everything's forgiven. Well, fuck that. This is
our lives, man. I shouldn't have to go back to hell for you. I shouldn't have to go back
for anyone.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'If you don't wanna go in the Pen, maybe you should learn some
respect for other people's stuff.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Them same other people what do all the favours for me? Screw them,
and screw you. I'll do what I damn well want,' he said.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
I've been to many places and done many things in the handful of years
since I left Twelve. Life is for the living, I truly believe that,
and I've been out, doing my very best to embrace that principle. I
got no fear of death. We're all on that road. But as I was lying
there, I couldn't help but think about my mom. Is this how it ended
for her? Down on her back, killed by some yahoo who got the drop on
her?
</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br />
Enough of thoughts like that.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
My tazer and my gun were both gone, and I wasn't pulling a knife
unless Waylon did likewise. I struggled upright and spat a mouthful
of blood out into the desert. Someone once told me that a long time
ago, people prepared for battles by spilling their own blood in the
mornings before they started. Well, it weren't lunch time yet, and I
was done playing around.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Come on,' I said, trying my best to assume a fighting stance even
though I was swaying slightly. 'Let's finish this.'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
He gave me that look I love to see – that one where they're tired,
like dog tired. That one they use when they're beat in the mind.</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Damn it all,' he said, 'can't you just let me go?'</div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
'Ain't payin' no bills that way,' I replied. The candy jack kicked
in, and then I was on him.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://thisburningman.blogspot.co.uk/2016/01/chapter-2-hole-town.html">(GO TO CHAPTER 2) >>></a></div>
<div class="western" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0