Anyways, enough about random facts about the writing process; enjoy! Western themed little story that, given the W?:, might be continued. I like the story and setting quite a bit, and would like to use some characters that I took the time to name more. Regardless; see you tomorrow at eight AM for more, and have a lovely day!
Arbrey Junction by Mackinley Clevinger, April 20, 2016
Boots thumped against the old, wooden floor, warning the inhabitants of the bar seconds before the shuttered swinging door shot open to the sound of unoiled hinges squealing. The figure of a man stood in the open doorway, outlined by the bright sun of midday and hiding his downturned face beneath a Stetson hat as he stood before the room of frozen men and women.
Silence reigned, a thin breeze blowing past the man and sending the corners of his duster flapping softly as he slowly raised his face towards the bartender, hands rising to rest against his hips as he spat to one side into an open bucket.
“Getting to be about noon.” His voice was rough, words flowing past gravel to escape his throat and run along the aged floor, the bottles scattered around the bar and the silent piano humming with each escaped word.
The woman running the bar broke the tension, looking down at the bar-top and wiping a damp rag along it as she let out an overwrought sigh. “Get in here and quit blocking the light, ya damn fool. What do you think you’re doing, worrying these poor folk?” She tossed the rag on the counter with a quiet splat and reached underneath the bar, looking the man in the face, and clunked a small glass in front of an empty seat.
The man’s face lit up in a grin, and the room returned to its quiet conversations as the man at the piano continued playing. He meandered over to the bar, nodding at a few similarly dressed men and women scattered around the room sitting with their hats to one side.
“Ah, hell.” Outside the bar, a bell tolled; the sound rolling across the streets of Arbrey Junction. The man at the piano stopped again at the interruption, brow furrowing in annoyance before his eyes widened as Marcy’s had. “Someone call the doctor!” Her voice broke through the deep sound of the bell, and a woman by the door nodded, donning her Stetson before slipping out through the door.
A second peal burst over the town and its empty streets, tumbleweeds rolling in from the outskirts of town as doors slammed shut and windows were covered throughout the town. “Do we know who they are, Marcy?” A few patrons lounged by the window, looking outside with interest as the question was launched towards the bar. Marcy took a pull from something green.
“What’s the book looking like, Jeremiah?” A man at the end of the bar drew a small black notebook out of a coat pocket and flipped through it as the bell rung for the third time, drowning out his reply. He cleared his throat and spoke to the room. “Smart money’s on a cattle rustler getting what’s due, folks.” He drew a pen out of the folds of his coat and turned in his seat, taking a drink as he surveyed the room. “Any takers?”
Marcy popped open a drawer behind the counter and counted underneath her breath as the fourth peal poured across the town. She looked up at the dust falling from the rafters as she thought. “Put me down for twenty on the rustler, Jerry.” More voices rose up throughout the bar as more bets were made, Walker watching with interest as Jeremiah wrote methodically in his black book.
The bar quieted down again as the bell rang for the fifth time, two pairs of boots softly padding over the packed dirt down the main road of Arbrey Junction as they walked into town from opposite directions. Between them stood the town hall, ornamented by the only bell tower for miles around. Walker pushed himself off from the bar and reached a hand into an inner pocket, tossing a leather wallet at Jeremiah and walking towards the door.
“Put me down for a fool looking for revenge, Jerry.” Walker passed through the swinging doors as the sixth peal coursed through the town, stepping onto the rough wood of the bar’s porch as the woman sent for the doctor returned. “Is the Doc ready, Kate?” She shook her head as she passed him, stopping beside him with one hand on the swinging door. “Merryweather’s out of town for the day. Reese’s leg got broke by a horse.”
“Oughtn’t need him if it goes clean, anyways. Body’ll stay for a while.” Kate nodded as she pushed her way into the bar, about to speak before being interrupted by the seventh toll of the bell. Walker stepped off the porch and down a side-alley, disappearing from view as the two distant dots on either end of the street grew larger. Their spurs clicked with each step as they made their approach.
Kate walked towards the bar and sat at the stool, turning down Jeremiah’s offer to be placed in his book while accepting a drink from Marcy. “Merryweather’s out fixing Reese’s leg, Marcy. Better hope no one’s hurt.” She put her hat down on the counter and sipped her glass. “Third time this month Reese’s broke his leg, and it’s only the thirteenth.” The bar fell silent a moment before the bell struck again, adjusting to the rhythm.
“Town needs another surgeon if Merryweather’s gotta be busy so often.” Someone by the window turned away from watching the distant figure get closer. “Thought Reese was planning on taking work in town?” Marcy tossed a rag over her shoulder and walker around the bar, setting a bottle by Kate with a nod. “Next month don’t help us now, Danny.” Her footsteps against the bar-floor were overshadowed by the tolling of the bell as Jeremiah closed his book and returned to his drink.
Walker stood in the alleyway beside the town hall, eyes focused on the bar across the main road as he listened to the quiet sounds hidden by the massive bell above him ringing for the tenth time. Two pairs of footsteps came to a stop, both set equally far from the bell tower as the town held its breath. “Third time this week…” Walker reached underneath his duster and placed a hand on the butt of his revolver, bracing himself just as the two figures on the street, faces covered by bandanas, did in anticipation of the twelfth ring of the bell.
Tumbleweeds rolled past Walker and onto the street, drawing a line between the two figures facing one another from a distance, arms hovering over their hips as they shifted their feet in preparation. From between their lowered hats and bandanas covering their mouths, their eyes met; one a hateful glare overtop a red-checkered handkerchief while the other was relaxed, almost enjoying the scene before them as they watched over a black bandana. A nervous gasp blew against the red-checkered handkerchief as the eleventh peal rushed over and past them, the time almost upon them.
The patrons of the bar stood at the windows, watching their stand-off while Jeremiah took notes on the scene. Marcy clutched the amulet dangling around her neck while Kate poured herself another drink, facing the cabinet of drinks with her eyes closed as she savored her drink. Walker breathed deeply, and held the breath as all of Arbrey Junction waited for the coming moment, the final peal of the bell seemingly an eternity away.
A fraction of a second before the bell rang for the final time, a single concussive blast of gunfire exploded in the main street, one bullet burying itself in the center of a wanted poster pinned against the general store while another found its mark, leaving a smoking hole in the black bandana as the figure fell to the ground. Across from the body, a young girl pulled the red-checkered handkerchief down from her face, eyes narrowing at the body as she aimed her revolver at it and pulled the trigger again.
The shot raised a cloud of dust besides the body, followed by another shot that landed in the dust. She growled underneath her breath and took careful aim before releasing another bullet at the fallen body. A few feet from the body, the bullet was met by a third metal slug as it fell back down from its ricochet into the sky, knocking it into the packed dirt before finally coming to a rest standing up in the middle of the street. The girl lowered her gun, anger turning to confusion as Walker stepped out of the alleyway and holstered his weapon, approaching the fallen figure and the growing pool of blood beneath it.
The sound of the bell dissipated, silence briefly returning to Arbrey Junction before doors reopened and the town’s midday business resumed. Walker knelt beside the body as men and women strolled by, eyeing the body with interest and no more as he placed a finger on its neck and shook his head at passersby’s. The girl stood in the middle of the street as carts rumbled by, stunned by the sudden activity of the town. Kate stepped out of the bar, fixing her hat as she looked at the scene before her.
The girl took a step towards the body and was immediately met by the sound of Walker and Kate’s revolvers being drawn and pointed at her, Kate approaching her with a hand out and her head nodding towards the gun still in her grasp. The girl looked between Kate and Walker, and handed it over to Kate without a word. The guns were holstered, and Walker nodded at the girl as Jeremiah strode out of the bar towards the body, black book in hand.
Walker stood up from the body and turned towards the girl, looking her over from the rough, cracked leather boots to the too-large coat and Stetson she wore. “This man killed your parents?” The girl’s eyes shot open in surprise, stuttering out a reply of “Yes.” Kate put a hand on her shoulder while Jeremiah wrote in his book, scowling sidelong at Walker. “You knew, didn’t you? That’s a fast way to make a bad reputation, Walker.”
He sighed and turned his head towards Jeremiah, raising empty palms towards him. “Listening is my job, Jerry, and besides. We’re the only town with a bell that strikes high-noon; everyone with any kind of a vendetta winds up here to duke it out. It’s just a matter of keeping tabs. Hell, in the last two days we had a cattle rustler take one in the knee and a bandit kill some poor kid before riding out of here, but hey. If it really means that much, I’ll withdraw my bet. Just for you.” The girl’s jaw dropped.
“Wait, you mean you knew I was…” Walker raised a hand towards Jeremiah and looked at the girl. “Listen, Lily. You hear about a farm going up in flames, you go looking around. You find out it wasn’t an accident, and some poor kid’s parents died too? Isn’t too hard to put two and two together and figure out someone – “He pointed a finger at Lily. “Is going to want revenge. Now, if you happen to know of the only place dramatic enough for folks hell-bent on killing scum in the light of day, you hang around and wait. Do you know why, Lily?” She shook her head, paralyzed by his quiet tone that promised a sudden outburst.
“Every kid with vengeance on their side seems to think they can’t die, that they’ll just be able to outshoot veteran gunslingers if they’re angry enough and shoot just before high-noon. Y’know what I call these kids?” Walker kicked a foot against the body lying on the packed-dirt street beside him. “Dead.” Jeremiah handed Walker his wallet and walked back towards the bar, flipping through his black book and writing in it as he stepped onto the porch. Walker opened his wallet and leafed through its contents while Kate turned Lily to face her.
“You may not know this, Lily…” Kate tightened her grip on Lily’s shoulder and pushed her to her knees. “But murder isn’t allowed, no matter how dramatic you may make it.” Walker stepped around Lily and took ahold of her hands, tying them together with a thin stretch of rope. “However, if you’ll look at where this man’s bullet landed…” Kate pointed at the wanted poster on the side of the general store. “The man’s wanted alive-or-dead, not that you knew that. So we’re going to take you somewhere to think things over before letting you back out in the wild.”
Walker and Kate led the stunned girl through the streets, leaving the body where it lay in a drying pool of blood. “Merryweather’s gonna have a fit when he gets back, Walker. Why’d you let him die?” Lily’s head shot up. “Might as well have shot him myself, really. She was going to miss, and he was aimed right for her heart. Had to bounce it between the two to line that up; you were always better at that than I was.” Lily’s mouth dropped open. “And dropping your bullet onto hers?”
“Gotta respect the dead, no matter how bad they were alive.”