sdasockdrgbftrumpertalsdjka klsd

8/18/2019 sdasockdrgbftrumpertalsdjka klsd

1/14

The Desert

== Chapter 1=Scene 1

01

The desert was like any other desert, except this one was made up of sand and human remains. Blood, guts and faecal matter, but also clothes, possessions: those necessities for travel. The man didn't care for them. He stepped over them, grimacing as he heard small crunches under his boot. He looked down, and was shocked by what he saw: a man's head, cleanly severed from his body, had been half-buried in the sand, sitting still as it decomposed and became the home for maggots. They flowed out of the head quickly, the nose crushed in several places, revealing the horrors underneath. Those must have been the crunches he thought. He stepped off it and looked up at the sky, and he squinted at the sudden brightness hiseyes encountered, raising his hand to shield the sudden intrusion to him.

Even after being here such a long time, he was still not used to its natural glow. He figured he'd have around five hours before it came back down again. And then they would come out, they, lurking in the dark as he sat by his campfire, cooking the remains of whatever scraps of animal meat he could find. He didn't cook human meat however, no amount of starvation could bring himself to do something sohorrible. Besides, most of it was rotten anyway.

He stretched out his arms, his brown coat itching at his sweaty shoulders, concealing his guns in his belt. Made for him once he became of age, moulded to his hand's large size. His hand reached down out of pure instinct, checking that they were still there. He felt the smooth grip of one, the wood-stained handles, the feeling of home. They hadn't left him. They were a part of him, and he couldn't afford to lose them. The last thing he had left of home. His boots were dusty and tall, protecting his lower calves from the desert, and he tucked his pants into them loosely, covering his legs from bottom to top. From time to time sand would get in, and he'd stop and take them off, pouring out the sand and whatever else hadcrawled in there - he had found a rat once, and cooked it almost immediately after. That had been a good day for him.

The desert went on for kilometres, the pile of remains and thin grass dotted amongst it. The hardest part wasn't going through this hell ± it was near impossible for him to find a place to camp. The few spots he could find had been littered with the decaying corpses of small animals he used to hunt: the smell of these wasalmost unbearable, even to him, and the skeletons of small children, two of them, holding each other's hand with one, and the other holding what he presumed was a teddy bear (or their dead parents).

He cocked his head to the left, and suddenly swiveled around. His hand was already down, his fingers brushing the smooth handle of one of his guns. Something moved towards him. At least, he thought it was moving. He looked now, but there was no movement in this dead desert. He relaxed, and turned back around, but almost immediately turned, this time with his gun drawn, and he fired a round. It wen

t straight through the mutant's arm and ripped it from its socket. It swung its other arm at him, and he ducked under it. He had enough time to see how slender its fingers were (like old man Chet in the saloon) as he fired another round, this time into the mutant's head. It stopped and fell to the floor, and then he saw the rest of them. Five other mutants had crept up as the first one attacked, and the man had only just seen them now. He quickly, without thinking, grabbed two more rounds from his belt and loaded them into his revolver with lightning speed.

He parried to the left as another mutant swiped at him, and then he raised his gun and he fired. His hand, trained since he was a boy, fanned the hammer and six


2/14

shots rang out.

Six mutants dropped dead, with bullet holes entrenched in their heads.

He put his gun back into his holster, after he had put in another six rounds. I'mstarting to run low damn it, and these aren't the most reliable ones around he thought, and how in the hell did they sneak up on me like that? They're getting smarter.

He continued walking, being more cautious about the amount of sound that he wasmaking. He couldn't risk another encounter like that - the next one wouldn't be so easy. He kept on walking through the desert.

Later, it must have been two days or so, he saw something that he couldn't quite focus in on ± his eyes weren't like how they used to be. Before, he could spot a manmany spans away, but now, after coming through this hell, his eyes had deteriorated severely, just like the rest of his body. He saw or thought I saw was a small structure, no bigger than a tent, standing out against the endless desert backdrop. But this couldn't be, he knew, there was no one else out here in this hell.He was alone. Except at night.

He pressed on, trudging towards this mirage that he held on to for as long as he could. He knew that this structure wasn't real, but his mind refused to believe it. His body did too. He tipped his hat to temporarily block the sun, and squinte

d his eyes (if you looked at them you'd see his dark brown, tired eyes) and he tried to gain some clarity of this mirage. He had no such luck.

After walking for a long time he finally reached it, and this time, he was right. It was real. But it wasn't a tent however, but a large rack, with leather striped across, attached to two poles as it baked in the hot sun. The smell was repulsive, and he quickly blocked his nose with his left hand, the other hand droppeddown next to his gun. He inspected closer, and found that it had been used recently. Next to it, a small fire had been made. He could see a cigar butt buried amongst the ashes (oh that sweet tobacco how I love thee) and he picked it up, and put it in his mouth. It was cold. Even after sitting with the ashes for God knows how long, it was still cold and empty, devoid of any tobacco.

He looked up again, at that bright, orange sun, and realised that it was much later than he expected. He couldn't stop here though, it was too open, too exposed.Times before he'd been lucky, and found natural dents in the desert, holes filledwith bodies and coffin flies, and he had been able to fashion himself a small shelter, albeit a smelly one. But when he looked about him, there were no hills, only flat land forever. This would have to make do. He took off his heavy pack and placed it on the ground, moving away a half decomposed skull, and placed it on the hot sand. He felt the enormous weight of his guns on his belt, and took those off too. Without them he was naked, alone, and he begrudgingly put them backon again. He felt secure, safer with those on. He opened up the pack, and took out a large tin box, filled with small twigs. His tinder box that he had since he was but a boy, still serving him to this day.

`Twigs, twigs, help me sire, give this blessed man a fire,' his voice was coarse and deep, struggling to make the words coherent. He was thirsty, and only had the comfort of irradiated water he could find in this desert, save the small rationsof water he was saving in his water skin. He struck the twigs together, and a small fire sparked, and so he dropped the twigs on the floor and covered them with others, making a small fire (not the mightiest but it would do I suppose). He couldn't cook anything on it, on something so small, but it provided light for when they came out. And he supposed that that was for the best.

He was exhausted, and the fire seemed enchanting to his tired eyes. It seemed to


3/14

beckon him to sleep, to draw him into a state of insecurity, but he could not let himself do so. And yet at the same time, it made sense. He had walked so long and so far, why must he always be on his guard? He pushed his guns (those evilguns those evil guns) away from him now , seeing them as no longer protection but a source of evil. They could hurt him, they could stop him from sleeping. While near them he could hear the voices beckoning to stay awake and alert ± but he was already taken by the fire. It had entranced him completely, and the guns became useless to him.

He took the fire's suggestion, and he slept. His guns metres behind him, the thoughts of the horrors of the world disappearing as the shadows took over and his dreams of home turned into nightmares.

When the man woke up, he saw his mother next to him. She smiled at him, the smile only a mother could give to her first-born son, and she looked at him with love.

ªCome to the light my darling, it's so peaceful here!º she said to him, raising a finger, beckoning him towards her. He moved towards her slowly, his body aching allover, crawling towards his mother. ªI'm coming!º he tried to say, but he had no energy to speak (didn't she die?). The thought quickly appeared, and this stopped him crawling. ªCome on, hurry!º She called out to him, her face changing to concern as hestopped crawling. He dismissed the thought, the idea of the light and what it entailed enticed him, and he continued (it was the fire it was the fire) crawling.

He looked back up at her, but it was no longer her mother. ªCome along now,º the face said, its eyes slowly enlarging until they popped out, dangling out of their sockets. Its flesh dripping and turning green, crawling with maggots and puss. ªCome now!º it cried out in a low, demonic voice. He froze in anguish, and tried to move backwards. He was paralysed (the light the light) and could only watch the thing transform in front of him. Out of where his once mother's arm was, grew a setof tentacles, with pincers scattered across them, snapping ferociously at him. Its head expanding, with eyes growing out of its pores, puss dripping out of every orifice. He could only lie there as he watched it unfold, unable to (the gunsthe guns) move.

As he thought of his guns, the thing seemed to recoil, and his paralysis was tem

porarily broken. He quickly got up, and raced back towards them. Its tentacles lunged out, its pincers ripping his shirt off his body - you could see his chestcovered in scars. He dove down, reaching out to one of his guns, and pointed itstraight at the thing. ªBack, beast!º He cried out, suddenly able to speak with theadrenaline coursing through his body, and he cocked his gun, aiming it as one of its eyes ± he had no time to check if it was loaded, he could only hope that themutant hadn't removed the bullets from it.

It continued lurching forward, and he fired. Its eyes popped as his bullets flew (and flew true they did) and he blasted three of its eyes out before it stopped and snarled, repulsive liquids pouring out of its mouth. It finally stopped, but its tentacles still whipped at him, its large pincers snapping at his bare flesh as he slowly backed off, still aiming his gun at the thing. ªBack I say!º He fire

d three more times, emptying his gun. The thing's remaining eyes popped as it cried out and shrieked with pain. It slowly started to dissolve and bubble like acid, slowly melting away into the eternity that was the desert. ªYou'll never find it,º it whispered, almost too quiet for him to hear, as it melted and was sucked backinto the sand.

He fell on the floor in exhaustion as the thing disappeared from his view, gonefrom the surface. He looked down at his hands, and saw that he was shaking. He grabbed at his right hand, and realised that it was bleeding. A pincer, in a last ditch attempt to injure him, and nipped at his hand and gotten off a chunk of f


4/14


5/14

Bang. Bang.Click.Bang.Bang. Click.

04He was down to only four perfect bullets, and fifteen drenched ones in his belt. He assumed that they would fire only when it was inconvenient - it always seemed to be like that with bullets.

He saw another structure. And then another one. More structures as he walked. He was so happy to see these (I'm finally out of the blasted desert!). He saw a group of people, walking tall with broad shoulders and large guns in their hands with broad-rimmed hats. These were men. He slowly approached them with caution, previous times he approached people like this, they wound up lying face first witha bullet in their chest. He hadn't seen a friendly face for weeks (or was it months? Years? When did I leave?) and he didn't want to have to kill more people. At that thought, he swiveled around again, hearing the sound of boots on sand, and had his gun knocked out of his hand. Standing before him was a large, bare-chested man, who seemed to tower over him. He threw a punch at his head, and he duckeddown, and tried to counter it with a kick, the man caught it. His leg was in the tight grip of the man's arm, and it bulged with muscle as his grip tightened. Hethrew him high in the air, higher than he thought someone could throw, and then

he came crashing down into the sand, breaking his fall with his arms.

The large man growled at him, and pulled out a large sledgehammer. He looked behind, and waved a hand at the men that the man was looking at just a minute ago,and they rushed over with their guns trained on him (fucking ambush this far out).

ªWell well well¼,º one of them said, who he presumed to be the leader. ªYou're pretty fout, ain'tcha? Walked across the ol' desert amiright? Answer me!º He slapped him hardin the face, but he didn't react. ªWell we can get right down to the brass tacks then, can't we? I'm Straub and this ère's me little gang of rascals. Got sent west by ol'thur to look for some supplies. You got any?º The man shook his head, and received another slap. This one was harder, yet still, no response. ªTake that as a no the

n. Well ya look strong, and we need workers. You're gonna be coming with us for awhile matey-moo.º One of the rascals came towards him, and whispered something inhis ear. The man didn't hear much, but he heard the one word that mattered: gunslinger.

Straub's eyes suddenly widened and his eyebrows raised in surprise as he heard this word. He realised that the man saw this, and he quickly reverted to his previous expression of authority. ªJack ère tells me you're a gunslinger¼ ain't too many of around these days. We could find some use for you I reckon!º He looked down at his belt, and saw the massive guns that hung low. ªThem's definitely gunslinger weapons, you best take èm off first. In fact, I'll get Jack here to take èm for ya.º He beconed to Jack, and pointed at his belt. Jack followed his finger and saw those guns, and he shrunk away. ªN-n-no sir! I've heard stories I have `bout them gunslingers!

They're dangerous folk yousee!º His last two words came out as a squeak as Straub grabbed him by the neck and pulled him towards him. ªListen here mate, if you don't take those fucking guns from him I'll do it, and you'll be a lot more hurt from me than anything he'd ever give you.º His eyes widened in fear at the prospect at this idea, and he sheepishly nodded. He walked towards the man slowly, cautious of what he was capable of.

He had read stories about them, that was the truth. He heard of one that took down 6 men with only a spoon - but his older brother had told him that one, and he was always trying to make Jack seem like an idiot. He hated him so much, he was


6/14

so much stupider than he was, but he didn't tell him that. He heard another story from Arthur, the Mayor, who said that a gunslinger could hypnotise you with one of their bullets and make you do whatever they wanted. He looked at his belt and saw those bullets now, and he shuddered in fear.

The gunslinger saw this, and he found himself smiling for once. Jack reminded him of what he was like at his age - he saw the gunslingers, the true gunslingersof old, as exactly as how Jack saw him now: some sort of alien death creature.

ªI'll help you out,º He said in a low voice. He spoke as reassuring as he could, but this didn't help Jack at all. He jumped back again at this sudden dialogue. The gunslinger reached down slowly, and unbuckled his gunbelt, loosened the leather and let it drop to his knees. The guns made a soft clunk as they hit the sand, andthe other men jumped at that sound too (these men are all so jumpy, aren't they?)but they kept their weapons trained on him.

Straub seemed happy with this, and he produced a set of silver handcuffs. He admired them for a moment, and then threw them at the gunslinger's feet. ªReckon a guylike you knows how to use them, don't cha? Put `em on, nice and slow.º The gunslingerlooked around, and nodded, slowly putting the cuffs around his wrists, and closed them. They were tight, but not too tight; they were just right. Straub saw this, and he let out a slow chuckle. ªNice try there mate, put tighten `em up a littlemore won't ya?º He walked over, grabbed the cuffs with his hands and squeezed hard.The metal dug into his wrists, and the gunslinger winced with pain. He could fee

l blood oozing out now, and his hands started to feel weak. ªAaand that's about perfect! Let's get a move on ladies, we're gonna get ourselves a nice lil' reward for this one!º The man all cheered as the started to march on. The gunslinger was in front, with Straub directly behind him, his gun barrel digging into his back.

ªSo what's your name anyhow? Arthur's gonna wanna have something to call you by I reckon.º The gunslinger told him his name. ªAin't that a crazy coincidence! Can't say thatswhat I'd have picked for ya, but if that's your name then I suppose that's your name.º he gunslinger nodded, and another slight smile broke out on his face. He had been in that desert for too long, and even though these men captured him and pushed him around, he couldn't help but be the slightest bit happy at some human company for once.05

They walked for around three hours. During that time, the person pressing the gun barrel into the gunslinger's back changed repeatedly. The last person to do this was Jack - Straub probably did this intentionally. He would see Jack constantly cower during battle, shivering at simple things. Who hasn't seen a popped eyeball now and again? Straub certainly had seen his fair share. So when he saw Jack wincing as he saw these things, Straub got mad. Couldn't have no softies working under his command. He figured the gunslinger would be tired and irritable, and less likely to be respectful. So he made Jack go last, thinking that the gunslingerwould scare him into a man. He was wrong.

The gunslinger was able to understand what Straub had done. He said this to Jack almost immediately. ªYou understand why you're the last one here, don't you?º He askedin a whisper. The other men had started to lag behind, and he was able to talk t

o Jack with relative privacy. Jack shook his head. ªThey're probably just tired right? I'm the youngest, I've got more energy than they do.º The gunslinger started to laugh. ªNo, it's because you're the weakest. Straub knows it, and the others do too. You'r scared. Haven't seen a proper battle yet. He probably wants me to scare some sense into you.º

Jack stopped walking, just for a second, but then continued again. ªA-a-are you?º He managed to say. His hands were trembling, and the gun's barrel was no longer digging into the gunslinger's back. ªI don't like Straub, so no. But take some advice from me: get away from these people. They won't help you, you're not right for this kind


7/14


8/14

he was pleased. Bullet after bullet flew through the air, and many missed. Thefew that hit the mutants seemed to only piss them off. Those that were lagging behind from the main assault turned around, and started to come towards them.

Jack started to shake with fear. ªI've never seen so many hit at once¼ we don't have enugh people to be able to take them all!º He raised his own gun, but he couldn't stop his hands shaking. It would be the waste of a good bullet. The gunslinger saw this as a chance. ªTake these fucking cuffs off me and I'll be able to help.º He said in his calmest voice. ªI can't do that! Straub'll kill me!º ªNo sooner than those mutantill. If you want them all to die just leave me here and I'll sort myself out. Your call.º He raised his hands and shook the cuffs in front of him. Jack pondered this for a moment, and then shrugged. ªShit, fine. This'll be the end of me.º He threw the gunslinger the key, and he removed the cuffs.

He let out a sigh of relief as the cuffs dropped on to the sand, and he shook and rubbed his wrists. ªBetter, much better. Guns.º Jack looked around, and spotted the gunbelt lying on the floor. He threw it to him, along with his rifle. ªI'm a terrible shot, you'll be better with it.º THe gunslinger said nothing. He caught the belt in the air, and put it on (much better with this on), and pulled out a gun. Itwas still loaded with the good rounds. He pointed it at Jack, who cowered away in fear. ªWatch.º He spun the gun around twice, and then turned at fired without looking. Three more shots rang out before Jack realised what had happened. Later, when he would think back to that moment, he'd realise that he didn't even see the gunslinger look at where he was shooting - yet all the bullets flew true and four mu

tants dropped to the floor.

One of those was attacking Straub, and when it dropped he turned and looked straight down a gun barrel, followed by the gunslinger's stern face. ªWhat the -º It fired again, and a mutant behind Straub stopped in its tracks and died. Straub was almost beside himself at this point, and he started to say something, but he couldn't. Like Jack, he had heard stories of gunslingers, but he didn't think they were true. And here he was, mouth agape as he watched a man (is he a man is he a man?) reloading a gun faster than he had ever seen, like it was an extension of his arm. He turned back around, and continued firing (this'll be awkward once it's over).

They didn't seem to stop coming, and they got bigger and bigger as they came. They were more varied too: in his time at Martslock, he only ever saw one kind of mu

tant. It was hideous to say the least, looking more animal than man, with two (Jim said there was one with three) arms and two legs, often walking slow but striking hard. What he saw now was different to that. These were large, almost likeblobs of meat with long tentacles with pincers - like those little things he'd see scurrying around while he was walking around. He saw one of them pick up a manwho was still screaming with terror as the pincers came out and cut his hand off, and then his arm and then sliced his neck with blood gushing out. He raised his gun and fired repeatedly, but the bullets didn't seem to have any effect. He kept on firing, but then he heard a loud click. Empty. He moved to reload, and then he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned and grabbed his pistol, tucked conveniently into the waistband of his pants and raised it, but it was smacked out ofit almost immediately. ªHe's gone, your gun won't do anything.º The gunslinger said, an pressed a finger to his lips. Silence. ªLook around.º Straub did, and he realised t

hat there was only one mutant left. The one he just saw kill a man, whose body had now disappeared. ªFucking kill it already.º The gunslinger did so.

02Jack ran up to him, looking at the gunslinger in awe. He peered into his dark brown eyes, but he couldn't see much life left in them. ªYou did it you did it!º He managed to stay amidst his mumblings. The gunslinger turned and nodded slightly, and then punched Straub in the face. He fell down to the floor, writhing in pain at this sudden assault. ªHandcuff me again and I'll shoot your kneecaps.º Straub muttered something under his breath. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn't have been he


9/14

ard, but these aren't ordinary. The gunslinger fired and the bullet lodged itselfinto the sand, just an inch below where Straub's crotch was. ªOkay okay okay! I fucking got it!º Straub cried out, his hands raised. He had been reduced to a whimpering man. He holstered his gun, and he started to walk towards the town.

ªHey, wait up!º Jack ran after him. ªHere, I'll take you to Arthur. He's like the sheriell the mayor around here. Talk to him, tell him what happened here.º He walked into town without saying a word.03Martslock is easy to navigate enough. The gunslinger could have found Arthur onhis own - most mayors are easy to spot. They walk with an unearned sense of pride, and often they're the fattest of the lot. So when he saw a fit, dark man with grey hair and a beard jog towards him, he dismissed him initially as just another resident. ªDon't have any gold to spare.º He said, and shot him a glare.

ªWoah there, easy. Ain't looking for gold. Name's Arthur, I run this here little town.ºªJack told me to come talk to you.ºªAs he would, but I thought it would be best to come see what happened myself. Shit like this doesn't happen often. Haven't had one of my men ever try and capture a gunslinger before.º He looked at him, and gave a wide smile. The gunslinger realised just how white his teeth were - in fact, they were near perfect. ªAnyway, you can tell me about this raid later. We ain't animals here - well, most of us ain't. Straub's probably the exception. Head over to the saloon and tell ol' Bruce that I sent you, he'll give you a bed and some food for the night.º He pointed to a large build

ing, with a sign that read UNITED POST OFFICE, OPEN DAILY in large red lettering. He thanked him and walked over, looking around as he did. He saw a woman wearing a poncho smile and wave at him. ªHey there stranger! Good to see you!º She called out, and the gunslinger tipped his hat. As he walked past, she started to run out of the room and onto her frontyard.

There was enough tension to cut with a knife as the gunslinger walked into the saloon. He pushed the swinging doors open, and the saloon went silent. Heads were raised and eyes now pointed in his direction as life in the saloon seemed to cease. There was a murmur here and there, and a young man (That must be Bruce then) looked around awkwardly, and then finally opened his mouth.

ªCome on in there mister, there's food enough for everyone in this fine establishmen

t.º He gave a sly smile as he looked the gunslinger over (looks like royalty I reckon, gonna have a lot of gold with him). The gunslinger walked forward and sat down at the bar, next to an attractive young woman.

ªHey there handsome,º she slurred, her breath smelt of alcohol. He pushed her back lightly. ªMaybe sometime later.º He said. Bruce came up to him with a pint, half-full. ªLets see your gold before ya get the drink eh?º He slapped down a gold coin and brushed the sand off it. ªThat's nice isn't it? Arthur probably sent ya over, and I'm inlined to give you a discount.º He pushed the glass over, and the gunslinger raised it to his mouth. He was about to drink, when Bruce suddenly interjected with ªAlthough, I don't have any change for you at the moment.º The gunslinger lowered the glass and looked at him in the eye as Bruce's widened with fright. He chuckled and then said ªwasn't expecting any. Didn't think I'd find a town this far out anyway.º

ªAnd right you would be, sir! Ain't no town out here this far east past Martslock, this is pretty much all the Salt's got to offer. You can take the room upstairs, but that's all I can offer you with the gold you've given me.ºªThat's fine.º He finished the beer, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. ªWhat food doyou have?º Bruce gave another smile. ªWell we got a whole load of stuff, but nothing you'd be expecting, Mr High and Mighty Gunslinger. Hot bread with potatoes and meat, or just meat. Don't ask where it's from.ºªSaw some dog bowls in the houses as I was walking, but didn't hear any dogs. I won'task because I already know. I'll have the bread.º ªRight away sir!º He shouted somethin


10/14

off to behind him, and he could hear a grunt in reply. A minute later, as he was looking around the saloon, he could hear the sizzle of meat being cooked on apan over a fire. The smell was unfathomable. He nearly started to cry. The lastcooked meal he had was six (or was it seven?) weeks ago, and the rest had been bone dry. Men gave him strange looks, and the women just ignored it - they seemed to understand what he had gone through. They gave him sultry looks, but he ignored them. He needed food.

Bruce came back 10 minutes later, and dropped the plate in front of him. ªGonna have to use your hands, cutlery seems to have gone missing.º He ate with ecstasy, savouring every bite as he shoved meat into his mouth with his dirty hands, and broke bread and mouthed it down just as heartily. To other people, it would have been one of the most disgusting meals they had ever eaten - the bread had at least four maggots in it, and the potatoes were barely cooked. But to the gunslinger, this was like dining in the Great Hall all over again. He loved every bit of the meal. It only lasted five minutes. He asked for another beer, and Bruce returned to refill his glass - this time, it was full. ªFigured you've had a hard time if you ate that shit as quick as you did. Take a full one why don't you?º He took itwith pleasure, and drank it down in two large gulps. He coughed, clearing his throat, and then he spoke.

ªYou said this was the last town this far East?ºªThat's right. Makes business very nice sometimes.ºªWhat happened to the others?º

ªWiped out sir, mutants hit most of them. Not every town happens to have a gunslinger protecting them, you know.ºªWe did the best we could.ºªWell you certainly fucked that one up, didn't you?ºThe gunslinger looked at him with spite, but, he knew that he was right. They had spread themselves too thin, too far over.ªHow far until you get to it?º He didn't need to saw what it was. They all knew.ªSir if you've come all this way for that, you're going to be disappointed. Haven't eve made a dent in progress walking here. I'd say another few years by walking, maybe one if you got a decent mule. Haven't seen one of those for a long time too.ºHe nodded, but he didn't like this answer. And yet again, he knew that it was right. And he should have known that this would be the case.ªYou're sure there's nothing left of those towns?º

ªWell Straub sent a few guys out there a year or two back, but they didn't find much. Then again, they may have wandered along a different way, but I'm pretty sure there's nothing there. Why else would the muties be here? Makes sense don't it?ºIt did.

04He went up to his room a couple of hours - and drinks - later. He fell into thebed without taking his boots off. He was tired but he couldn't sleep. He didn't trust Bruce - he had the perfect balance of charm and spite, and the last person hemet like that tried to kill his father. He kept his ear cocked towards the door, in case someone tried to come up.He was right, because at around three in the night, someone did come walking upthose steps, and he could hear the sound of a pistol being loaded. He grabbed hi

s own gun, and readied himself.05Before Arthur, the mayor of Martslock was an optimistic man by the name of Donald. Now Donald was a humble man - his father was a peasant, and his father, and pretty much all the way down the line, a family of peasants. Donald though, he was the exception. He found that he had a knack for leadership when he was a child. He realised he could manipulate a lot of people quite easily, and he used this to his advantage whenever he could. He stopped doing this though after his wife realised - she threatened to leave him and take everything if he didn't reform. And reform he did - he stopped drinking and smoking, he even gave away his guns.


11/14

He became a pacifist, and he saw just how bad Martslock was to the residents. Not to the newcomers though; they saw the best of the town, and when they left itreturned to the shambles that it truly was.

He sought to fix this, and he managed to become mayor after Shaw decided to finally step down - he was 67 - remarkably old, in fact, the oldest man in the town- and Donald took his chance. He started to change the town right away, and notmany people enjoyed that, they did not. He started urging pacifism upon the town, urging the people to please please, get rid of your guns! believing that the mutants would leave them alone if they did. Because you see, he knew something most others don't - the mutants aren't completely stupid.

One day, whilst out with some other men searching for any signs of human life,they were hit by a pack of muties, and only he and one other survived. How? By dropping their guns and raising their hands, making themselves look as pathetic as possible. The mutants slayed those with the guns, the ones who shot out twiceinto the air and then screamed till their throats were cut, but Donald survived. He raised his hands and whimpered like a child, and the mutant turned and looked at him, stared into his eyes - almost like it was peering into its soul - andthen walked off, kicking the gun in the process.

His new plan of pacifism would have worked for the town if they all agreed to it. But in a place like the Salt, you develop an attachment to a weapon that can defend you from most monstrosities, so most people didn't really want to give up th

eir weapons. When Donald sent people - the few that agreed that pacifism was the answer - to people's houses to take away their guns, they were angrily shouted out until they left. Those that persisted were typically beaten, no matter how young they were. A boy of twelve was beaten to near death when he went to Straub's family house, and Straub's father beat him with his belt, studded with metal points. He managed to survive, but he was unable to work or play for nearly a year.

Townspeople started meeting in secret, and Donald had no idea. Tina, the craftywoman she was, organized the meetups in odd locations and at odd times, and often had to seduce Donald to distract him from his work. She wasn't proud of it, butArthur has been a much better mayor (and he's so much more attractive). They agreed that Donald had to go - they were losing too many men to the mutants, and they couldn't cope with losing any more. The more diplomatic of the group thought that

it was best to convince Donald to step down, but this minority was left unheard by the rest of the people - they wanted him dead.

And so, one seemingly plain night in Martslock, as Donald walked to his home a mere 40 metres away from the saloon, he heard screams from his house. He rushed over immediately to see what was happening. When he came in, were he not a pacifist, he would have gone on a rage-induced frenzy. Yet he was calm and collective, as if somehow, he knew this would happen.

His wife was on the floor with her throat slit, but that wasn't what killed her. He pulled up her top and it revealed a canvas of bruises and lashes - from Straub's whip no doubt. He nearly threw up all over the body, but he was able to compose himself somehow. At first he thought that it was a joke, but then he finally sn

apped back to his senses a mere minute later. This was real.

He didn't have kids, but he realised that if he did, they would be in a similar state too. He screamed in terror, crying for his dead wife. He turned to run out the door and find out what happened, but that was when he saw Tina. She was standing with a wooden nail board in her hands, and hit him in the leg. He cried outin pain and he went down, and he saw the crowd behind her. Nearly all the town had turned up too see his death. The cheered on as she hit him again and again, all over his body. They cheered and shouted as Donald cried out again and again as the nails pierced his body. Finally, she stopped and he was able to call out o


12/14

ne final thing. ªYou're all going to die!º The nail board finally came down on his head, crushing his eyes. They all cheered and fired their guns off into the air, celebrating the death of the pacifist mayor.

As you can see, the people of Martslock aren't really averse to killing, especially those that are causing trouble. It was no surprise that a man - not a crowd -slowly creeped up into the Saloon and up the stairs with a gun in his hand. He chuckled to himself (fucking gunslinger's gonna get it now he is) and kicked the door in, and fired.

06He was a good shot. In fact, it was a perfect shot; straight through the gunslinger's eye and out the back of the pillow.At least, that's what he thought he saw. But he was too loud, and the gunslinger was ready.The moment he heard the door squeak, he rolled off the bed with his gun in his hand onto the hardwood floor. He heard the gun go off, and then he fired twice. The first one missed (shit how did I miss that?) but the second one hit its target, and went straight through the man's gun hand, knocking the weapon out of it. He screamed in pain as the bullet left a gaping hole, his ears still ringing fromthe gunslinger's gun. The gunslinger got up and covered the man's mouth.

ªWho sent you?º He asked. He removed his hand, and the man started screaming again.He covered his mouth again, and put his shot hand under his boot, and twisted ha

rd. ªAhhh it was fucking Straub okay!º He could understand him just fine, even withhis mouth muffled. Everyone would be awake now, if not for the gun but for the screams of the man. ªI had to, he said he'd rape my wife if I didn't!º The gunslinger puched him in the stomach, and then dropped him to the floor. The Saloon wasn't safe now, everyone would be coming. He decided to head to Arthur's - he seemed to be the best of the people here. He'd either help him, or he'd have to kill everyone in his town. It wasn't the first time a gunslinger had killed every man, woman and child in a town.

He put in two new rounds into his revolver, and then holstered it. He grabbed his hat from the foot of the bed and put it on, along with his gunbelt with his second gun. He had bought some extra rounds that Bruce had, but he didn't know how reliable they would be. He had 40 in total, but he knew that only two of them wou

ld work. He could do without them - he learnt how to fit with his fists too, not just the guns - but he was getting older, and he couldn't throw a punch like he used to.

07Arthur heard the shot, and immediately clambered out of his bed and put on his boots. He turned around and looked back at his bed to tell his wife something, but then he stopped. His wife wasn't there. Just a fantasy he used to tell himself.His wife died a couple of years back in a mutant raid, no thanks to Donald's pacifistic ways. He grabbed his rifle, resting on the wall next to the door, and looked out the window. His house had the best view in town, and he could see almostall of it from there. He got a better view if he went upstairs too; he had thatluxury as the mayor.

He glanced over houses, and passed his eye over Tina's house, just for a moment. He saw a flicker of light, and then it disappeared (probably just grabbin' a snack). He looked over to the Saloon, glancing at the letterings UNITED POST OFFICE, OPEN DAILY and looked down into the the windows, past the undrawn curtains and into the room of the gunslinger. Arthur was getting on in age, but his eyesight was still damn good, and he could see the outline of the gunslinger, and what appeared to be another man being held at the end of his arm.ªThe fuck's happening now¼º he muttered to himself as he looked around for his boots. H found them, those caricature boots of a cowboy with steel toes and golden spurs


13/14

on the heels. He looked again, and saw that the gunslinger was no longer in the room. ªMoves pretty quickly I gotta say,º he tried to remember how he moved when he was younger, but he couldn't imagine it was half as fast as what he saw.

He walked downstairs into the kitchen, and walked through past the wooden tableand out the front door into the far side of Martslock. He started walking over as quietly as he could, making crunches in the hard sand as he walked. He could feel eyes watching him, but when he looked around all he saw was the unwelcomingdarkness of windows and curtains. He starting rubbing the back of his head, andhe felt a sudden soreness in his neck. He hated that feeling. It was the same one he had when Donald was killed. A feeling of conspiracy and betrayal. He hearda crunch, out of sync with his own footsteps, and he snapped out of his thinking and raised his gun. He looked up, and he saw the gunslinger with his hands raised.

ªI'm not going to shoot you. I just want some answers.º Arthur didn't lower his gun.ªI heard them shots. You killed somebody in there didn't you?ºHe shook his head. ªHe came at me with a pistol. If I was a few years older I would be dead by now. He told be Straub had sent him. I shot his hand, that's all.ºªShit, this is happening again.ºThe gunslinger asked what, but Arthur shook his head. ªNo time for that. You gotta get out of here before Straub gets up. He'll kill you for sure, set the whole damn town on you if he has to. I've got no intention of letting my people get gunneddown by you.º The gun was still pointed at his head.

ªI understand. Just give me some food and bullets and I'll leave. And a map, too.ºªGot some food in my house, bullets should be in a drawer upstairs somewhere. I'll go see Straub, try and distract him for a bit. I'm trusting you on this, gunslinger. I hope you people are as noble as I've been told.ºThe gunslinger smiled at this, nodded, and then walked off, crouching as he didto minimize his noise.When he got to the house, Straub was up. He heard the shots too, but he thoughtit was his son. He usually did stupid shit like that, playing around with his guns. Oh but when Straub would be through with him, he'd learn not to touch his guns. He'd learn good.

ªThe fuck do you think you're doing!º He screamed out. He jumped out of bed, and clenched his fists. A woman, no more than twenty years old, raised her hand, struggli

ng to lift it as if it weighed over a tonne, and brushed his back.

ªWhat're you doing¼º His hand came crashing down on hers, leaving a red mark. ªGet the k off me! Last time that little shit touches my things.º He stormed out of the room as the woman rubbed her hand, wiping her tears with the bed spread. ªGet away from me guns you little bas---º His son, barely seven years old, was on his bed, curled up in a ball crying.

ªDaddy daddy I heard a big bang was that you?º Straub looked at him, barely comprehending what he saw. If he didn't touch the gun, who did?

He finally remembered why he was so happy before he was so abruptly awoken.He had just sent Farro to kill that turd of a human gunslinger. Came up with a n

ice little threat he did too; said he'd rape his wife if he didn't shoot him in theskull. And he looked plenty scared too, told him that he had a pistol but he wasn't sure if it would fire. He remembered smacking him on the cheek, hard, and told him that if it didn't he'd come back around, and he wouldn't be so nice the second time around. He looked out of his son's window, at the Saloon, and he remembered what made that sound. It was the same sound that he heard when the mutants attacked before, and suddenly dropped like flies. The gunslinger's revolver (shit he's still fucking alive). He was furious now. He looked around the kitchen, barely thinking as to what he did next, and he grabbed a large knife he used to carve up meat the day before, and he charged out of the room. ªGunslinger!º He roared into the ni


14/14

ght sky.

08The house was nicely furnished (at least for this town), and it even had two stories. He hadn't seen a two story house for quite some time - they were rare this far out. And yet here was one that he was in, looking around for food and bullets. He didn't imagine he'd do this after spending so much time in the desert. He had found quite a lot of food, but he didn't take it all. Arthur was right about one thing, the gunslingers were noble people. But he still took quite a lot of food, and he started to walk up the stairs when he heard the screaming. He didn't recognise the voice, but he heard the word easily enough. He remembered the screaming voice of Straub when the mutants attacked, and he realised that it was him who was screaming. He ignored it, he could deal with him later. Grudges can be resolved quickly, but couldn't be done without bullets.

He found the bedroom easily enough, and when he opened the first drawer he heard the clattering of tiny metal objects. His heart skipped a beat when he opened it. Bullets. He did a quick estimate, and guessed that there were over a hundredof them. He grabbed one, and they were the right size too. He pulled out one ofhis revolvers, the one that had only three rounds in it, and put one of Arthur's in. It fitted perfectly. After all of this, a stroke of luck. He put what he could into his belt, and then shoved the rest into his pouch. He couldn't imagine having this much ammo. He turned around to leave, and saw Arthur. His face was covered in blood, but he couldn't see any cuts on him.

ªStraub's?º He asked.ªManaged to cut him with my knife as he tried to get me with his. He's looking for you, probably gonna raise the town too. You need to get out of here.ºThe gunslinger nodded. He reached into his pouch and pulled out a gold piece, and handed it to Arthur. ªTake this, you'll need it someday.º Arthur looked at it, his eyes widening. It was so clean, so shiny, but how? He had been travelling for solong with that pouch?ªNow watch.º He raised his hand, and his fingers started to twirl. Arthur peered closer and realised that a bullet was dancing in between them, from the thumb to the pinkie, and back to the thumb over and over again. It was mesmerising. ªJust rest your head and lie in bed, and all your troubles will go away.º He said, thinking back to his mother's old rhyme. Arthur grunted something, it could have been a yes, and then his head dropped onto the bed and his eyelids closed like doors.

He hadn't done that trick for so long, but he could still do it.

sdasockdrgbftrumpertalsdjka klsd

Documents

Transcript of sdasockdrgbftrumpertalsdjka klsd