Tales of The Kid

Post » Sat Nov 06, 2010 3:34 am

Tales of The Kid
Rogue, Charmer, and Gun-for-Hire


The Kid

Both men stood in the street, face to face, hands at their holstered revolver. Neither man flinched as another man out of their way, counted down from five slowly. The count down felt like hours, as the two men eyed each other at twenty paces apart, and licked their dry nervous lips. All the town’s folk had all gone inside, waiting for the eventful kill of the young man who looked no more than twenty. The other man, was the town’s known protectorate and guardian angel. No man had beaten their protector in all his time of being their guardian angel. The third man counted down.

“Three... two... fire!”

And just like that, the town’s guardian angel drew his revolver and shot the young man down in the dry sun baked street. The young kid hardly had a second to blink and reach for his revolver, before he was struck down in the street; there was no cry of pain, just silence from the young man. No one came out of their houses or stores; they were all busy calming down from the stress. The man who’d counted walked over to the winning gun-hand, holding out his hand in congratulation to the man.

“That was some fine shooting Sheriff Hansen. Nobody’s got the quick hand and reflexes like you. This town will do all right.” Said the counter, shaking the Sheriff’s hand quickly. “Soon enough, no bandit or young punk will try and harm us here.”

“That’s right Wilson, soon enough. But that ‘soon enough’ just can’t seem to get here soon enough, can it.” The Sheriff said smiling and holstering his revolver. Wilson fixed his small circular framed glasses on his face, and patted Sheriff Hansen on the back for a good job. Suddenly, two men from out of the saloon hurried out towards the dead body, and cleared it from the road. “Give that kid a proper burial ya hear!”

The two men nodded and hurried off with the limp body in hand. The Sheriff tipped his hat, and walked into the Jailhouse with his spurs clanking. There wasn’t much inside the Jailhouse but a desk, chair for the desk, a jail cell that held the town drunks, and a couple of the town drunks inside the cell. The Sheriff took his seat at the desk, and leaned back in his chair to take a quick rest; the fight had taken a lot out of the old man.

Soon enough, the town was back to normal operating status. The saloon girls spread themselves out, along the poker tables, trying to get a man in their arms to make some quick money upstairs above the saloon. Madam Gentry was the owner of the rooms above the saloon, and James Stevenson was the man who ran the saloon. Both pleased one another with a drink and a bedroom upstairs; it was the best symbiotic relationship with benefits probably ever known.

The whole saloon was in chaos, but it was a controlled chaos. The Brahmin ranchers, from down south were staying in the town for a day or two, on their way further north to sell some Brahmin for food and pack. The Brahmin-boys as they called them, were quite the wild ones. Some were out of hand at times, but the town’s guardian angel took care of them; putting them away with the other drunks in the “Drunk Tank” for a night to settle down. But most of the time, the Brahmin-boys were mellow and just looking to blow off some steam with the local night women.

But soon that all changed, when a Brahmin-boy and two of his friends cut the throat of a young woman, and left her to die. Sheriff Hansen didn’t take to that very well, and soon put a bounty on the three Brahmin-boys who’d killed the prosttute; 2,000 Caps each was the price on their heads. They were out on the run, somewhere out in the wasteland. Maybe hiding in the hills known as The Deadly Hills. But wherever they were, the sheriff knew they’d be back under the cover of darkness to get what they could for supplies, before heading back out on the run. Those who the three worked for, were put under arrest and beat to talk if they knew anything. None of the Brahmin-boys talked about their friends, and as a result the Sheriff had them hung for un-helpfulness to the law. Soon after the bounty was posted, there was a swarm of bounty killers in the small desert town. From all around bounty killers came, armed with everything they’d need to hunt for these three rogue brahmin-boys. Shotguns, Rifles, Pistols, Revolvers, Machine-guns, everything they needed to kill, they had.

One morning, when the Bounty Killers had just arrived, the Sheriff gave a word of advice to them all. Hoping they’d follow threw with his request.

“Now I don’t want them too bashed or pummeled when you bring them back here! I want them recognizable an hopefully alive. I know it’s your jobs, and you’re probably pretty damn good at it, but I don’t want anymore killin’ in this town! Either between yourselves, or the other Brahmin-boys staying here for the next night. We’re all gonna be good boys, and if I hear so much as a peep about someone actin’ up! I’m not gonna try’em but at the end of my revolver, or be put in the jail cell. Understand me?” The Sheriff said that morning, to the gathered crowd of Bounty Killers. They all agreed, and for the most part the Bounty Killers did their part of the agreement. Though some were put into the “Drunk Tank” to cool off, like some of the Brahmin-boys, but only one was hung for in sighting a fight with the sheriff himself..

Not many days after, the large groups of Brahmin-boys were headed back out. They’d done all they needed in the small town, and continued their journey up north to sell. But no luck, had come across the large bands of Bounty Killers still held up in the town. None of them had successfully captured the three Brahmin-boys who’d killed the young woman. Some had even been killed, after probably running into the three killers; but didn’t have what it took to get the edge over them, and they themselves were killed. But soon, after three days and two nights of the hunt, a lone man came into town. He wore a brown poncho with a brown hat to go with it, and a pair of old Colt revolvers; both had 1851 written on them.

This man, looked to be a Bounty Killer himself. None of the older Bounty Killers took him as one, and neither did the towns people who saw him. He was no more than a young boy. Like the young man the sheriff had killed days earlier, this young man looked to be no more than twenty.

“I’ll have a whiskey,” the young man said to the barkeep when he arrived into town, and had settled himself in the saloon.

“Sorry kid, no serving to minors. It’s a town law you see.” The kid smiled.

“Well, good thing there aint no minors around, wouldn’t want you to get yourself into trouble breaking the law.” Everyone looked at the kid, some of the women took a quick liking to him, the men; mostly bounty killers, didn’t though. Sheriff Hansen who was on patrol of the streets, entered the saloon to get a drink before anyone said another word. He looked at the barkeep, and the boy, and then the crowd who was watching.

“What’s the problem today James?”

“This kid wants a Whiskey. I dun told him, aint serve minors. It’s against the law!” James nodded, and the Sheriff raised a single eye brow to the kid who had his back turned to the Sheriff.

“That’s right James, we don’t serve minors around here. Sorry kid, but it looks like you aint getting your big boy drink today. Or ever here.” Sheriff Hansen took a couple steps closer to the boy, putting himself in the peripheral sight of The Kid.

The Kid turned around on his stool, glaring at Sheriff Hansen who just smiled.

“I aint no kid, mister. I’m at the ripe age of twenty-one, and I believe that’s the age to drink anywhere?”

“That it is son, but you don’t look twenty-one, and we can’t prove that you are.”

“Well then, how can I prove I am?” The Kid pulled out a small thin cigar, and struck a match off his boot. Lighting the cigar, before returning his attention back to the sheriff.

“Smoker too... Well son, I guess you can prove your age by a simple card game?” The Kid raised and eye to the sheriff, curious to what he was getting at.

“What kinda card game mister?”

“That’d be Sheriff to you, son. And the card game is easy. We get a stack of cards. Shuffle’em, then we each pick a card from the top. Whoever’s got the better card wins.”

The Kid thought about the proposition, chewing a bit on his cigar as he thought. The Sheriff smiled and eyed the crowd, smelling of a cheap victory.

“Okay Sheriff, you’ve got yourself a deal. But I’ve got the bets: You win, I don’t get a drink, but you still get my services as a purposed Bounty Killer for those three Brahmin-boys. It’s still 2,000 caps each right?” The Sheriff nodded in agreement. “But if I win, I get my drink, and more if I want. Along with you still getting my services as a Bounty Killer. Okay?”

The sheriff nodded, and grabbed a stack of cards. He handed them to a random bounty killer, who quickly shuffled them. There was some grim deep chuckles amongst the Bounty Killers, knowing it wouldn’t end good for the young boy. The sound of chairs moving echoed in the saloon, as all the men and women inside scurried around them to get a look, while more grunts, chuckles, and noise came from the surrounding crowd.

“Go right ahead sheriff,” The Kid said panning his hand to the deck of cards. The sheriff tilted his hat, and took the first card. The Kid looked away, allowing the sheriff to show his card. Nobody made a noise, except the women who awed at the card. The Kid just smiled, and chewed on his thin cigar.

“Your turn kid, make it count,” Sheriff Hansen said revealing his card to The Kid. It was the Jack of Diamonds. The Kid blew a small puff of smoke from his cigar, and grabbed the card on top. The Sheriff went to look away, when The Kid turned the card to him. The Sheriff’s jaw dropped, along with everyone’s in the saloon. The Kid had pulled an Ace. A quick straight win.

“James, pour me my whiskey.” The Kid said putting the card back, and strutting to the counter. Two women hurried over to his side, smiling and making small talk. James did as The Kid asked, and poured him a whiskey; The Kid tilted his hat in thanks. The Sheriff grumbled and tightened his fist at the defeat, grinding his teeth together. How could he lose to such a young kid, he probably wasn’t even the age he said he was! He must have cheated him.

“Wait just a second son, you’re not getting that Whiskey, or any others for that matter. You’re out of here as of now! Get your things, and don’t come back here again, you hear me! You cheated me out of a game.”

“How’d I do that Sheriff?” The Kid said turning to the Sheriff with whiskey in hand, and cigar in his mouth.

“You’re not really twenty-one, you’re still just a boy. You’re probably not even a real Bounty Killer!”

The Kid swigged his whiskey down, and sat off his stool. Stepping to the Sheriff.

“Are you calling me a liar?” The Kid said getting face to face with the Sheriff.

“That’s exactly what I’m calling you, runt! Now get out of my town, or I’ll kill you on the street out there!”

“Guess you’ll have to kill me on the street, Sheriff!” The Kid said looking at the door. Both men looked at each other, along with the whole crowd of people in the saloon. Some others had come in off the street, and were whispering to others about what was happening.

“Alright kid, if you want to fight it out. Than let’s fight it out! But let me warn you, I’m the fastest gun hand around these parts. So you better be careful.”

“That’s not what I hear Sheriff. I heard I was the fastest gun hand around these parts; so why don’t we go show these people out in the street, who it really is? Huh?” The Sheriff nodded, and the two walked out side by side, out to the street, spurs clanking. Everyone in sight, knew what was happening the instant they saw the sheriff and the young man walk out together, and then turn back to back; walking twenty paces from each other. Women grabbed their children, and men grabbed their wives, hurrying in for safety.

“Wilson!” The Sheriff shouted in the street.

“Yes, Sheriff Hansen?” Came the reply.

“Would you be so kind, to count down for us, once again? Seems we’ve got another wannabe gun hand here?” Wilson, with his small old body and balding head, came slinking out of a building, cleaning his glasses.

“Why certainly Sheriff, I’d be glad to count down again.” The Sheriff tipped his hat, and the people who hadn’t already, hurried inside for safety. Wilson finished cleaning his glasses, and began his count down. “Five... four... three...”

The two men eyed each other, both with their hands at their holstered revolver. The Sheriff licked his dry nervous lips, but The Kid just watched and chewed on his small stub of a cigar, showing no emotion but anger, he moved part of his poncho, so he had a clear area to grab for his revolver. His eyes squinted, and narrowed to the Sheriff’s hand and chest.

“Two...” Wilson looked one last time at the two men, smiling at The Kid. “Fire!”

With a quick grab, and quicker aim, The Kid pulled his revolver and fired off two quick rounds. The sheriff fired his own, but only hit the ground. The Kid still stood, but the Sheriff wobbled around as blood began to trickle from his stomach and shoulder. The Kid pulled the hammer back once more, ready to fire again. The Sheriff was in no condition to fight anymore. His eye sight was getting blurry, and he fell to one knee, holding himself up with the help of his gun barrel. Wilson, and the crowd that came out looked in awe; his face was turning a pale pale white. The Kid hadn’t been touched, but he’d gotten off two clean shots at the sheriff.

“What... the.... damn-it!” The Sheriff muttered, gasping for a breath. Blood began to ooze out of his mouth while blood stained down the front of his blue shirt. “[censored] kid got me?.. [censored].”

The Kid just stood in silence, with his revolver still at the ready. He stood firm, and his glare to the sheriff never moved; his eye sight was strictly pointed at the sheriff, puffs of smoke came from his almost finished off cigar. Wilson rushed to the Sheriff’s aid, trying to help him up. But the sheriff pushed Wilson away, and sat down in the street.

“How’d you do it kid?” The sheriff said looking at The Kid.

“My reflexes I guess?”

“What’s your name son? I want to know the name of the kid who killed me.” Wilson and the crowed looked in shock at the sheriff, as he said those last words. Then they quickly eyed The Kid.

“My friends call me Billy, but most just call me ‘The Kid’. Because of my young looks as a matter of fact.” The sheriff laughed, coughing up some blood that fell on his shirt. “Want me to end it?”

“No, no, I’ll handle it.”

And with that, the sheriff rested limp. His last breath coughing up a bit more blood, and head hanging forward. Wilson and some others hurried back to his side, to check him over. The Kid holstered his revolver and walked back into the saloon. Wilson looked, and followed him inside.

“Kid, you just shot our town protectorate! Now what are we gonna do!”

“I dunno, but it’d probably be a good idea to get a new one?” The Kid took a swing of his whiskey, and turned to Wilson. “Maybe you?”

Wilson looked in shock, shaking his head in protest to the idea. He didn’t know how to shoot a gun, he wasn’t known for being a gun hand, he was just some town wanderer.

“Hey, now how are we gonna get paid?” A random Bounty Killer said in a gruff voice. He had a large round hat on, with two bandoleers across his chest, and a face nobody could love. He was fat too, and The Kid knew he’d eaten well over the years considering the circumstances of food around here.

“I dunno, that’s not up to me. But I’m sure once you find the three, you’ll get your caps. Right?” The Kid said looking at Wilson who looked intimidated by the two men.

“Y-y-y-yes. You’ll be paid, I-I-I-I guarantee it, sir.”

The Kid finished off another whiskey, and headed outside past the surrounding crowd that circled the dead Sheriff Hansen. Nobody said a word to The Kid, they were all in shock and disbelief of what had happened. The Kid continued out of the town, waving his hand farewell as he walked.

Two days later, with The Kid now long gone from the town, the three bodies of the Brahmin-boys rested on a wooden cart. There was a note attached to one of the bodies.

Dear Town People,
Here’s your no good Brahmin-boys. Keep the pay, I don’t need it. Done all I can to help, hope you find a good Sheriff soon.
~The Kid


_____________________

Criticism, fixes, questions, and suggestions are all welcomed. But please no, "That was great!" "Keep it up, I like it" or "Can't wait for the next installment!" type of posts on here. I'd actually like to know what you like, are excited for, and what you think of "The Kid" so far?
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Ludivine Dupuy
 
Posts: 3418
Joined: Tue Mar 27, 2007 6:51 pm

Post » Sat Nov 06, 2010 1:10 am

Smoking Barrel


“Why do you have to go? Can’t we have some more fun in the bed?” The young woman asked stretched over the nicely kept wooden bed. She had a nice lace gown on, that covered her body so not to show anything off too much. She was pretty: Blonde hair, dimples, and a soft young face that went well with the soft skinned body that she had.

“Sorry hun, but I’m not interested now. I’ve got some caps to be made!” Said The Kid, pulling his pants up, and slinging his suspenders over his shoulders. They were old suspenders, but he didn’t have a belt, so they did their job. He grabbed his boots, slipped them on, and grabbed his hat. “I’ll be back for you, but right now I’ve got some caps to make, aint got time for pleasure you see.”

The young woman drooped her head down in sadness, and looked away. The Kid smiled, knowing it was just a ploy to get him to stay; it’d happened to him before in plenty of other towns before this one. He kissed her gently on the head, and walked away, grabbing his poncho before walking out the door.

“Don’t forget about me,” he said with one last smile. The young woman didn’t bother to look, and stayed in her pouty little mood.

Outside on the streets, the town was busy with the local Brahmin-boys. They’d come in from their Brahmin Ranches, to sell their animals for butcher and for pack animals. The Kid grabbed a cigar, and struck it with a match, watching some Brahmin-boys and their Brahmin go walking past the burlesque house. He grinned, and let out a small puff of smoke as some lone Brahmin-boys walked past to enter the burlesque house.

“Howdy.” They said greeting him.

“Howdy.” He replied, stepping out of their way. “Rough journey for you boys?”

“Not really, had some Brahmin slip past out of the herd, but we got them back in no time.” The last Brahmin-boy said, wearing an old Cattle-mans jacket. It was torn and stitched in some place, and The Kid knew it was pre-war. The four tilted their hats, and went on their way. The Kid moved his way through the crowded street of Brahmins, making it into the general store. Above him the sign read: Randy’s General Store and Billiards! The Kid smiled and walked in, making his way to the gun section of the store.

“How may I help you today? Lookin’ for a new gun? Reckon that’s what you’re lookin’ for?”

The owner, Randy, was an old man. Nearly seventy or so, but he moved like he was younger.

“No thanks, I’m just lookin’ for some powder, and maybe some lead?”

“Oh, making some rounds for your cap’n ball revolver, eh?”

“Yes sir, I’m runnin’ a little low on the lead. Any caps?”

Randy scratched his head, and looked through his shelf full of cap-n-ball revolver goods. There was three shelves full, of lead, caps, bullet molds, and other assorted needs. The old man grabbed a couple of little tin boxes, and handed them to The Kid. There was some rowdiness amongst the Brahmin-boys, and the two looked out the closest window. Two of the boys were surrounded, and both had drawn blood from one another. The Kid just chuckled, as Randy looked worried.

“How about that lead old man?” The Kid asked, taking his attention away from the scuffle. Randy looked up, and went to grab some of the lead. He planted a couple of small bricks beside the little tin boxes.

“That’ll be thirty-five caps, sir.” The Kid rummaged through his pocket, and pulled out a little sack that jingled with caps inside. He grabbed a handful and put them out, counting them quickly. He pulled out a bit more, and handed them to the old man.

“Thank you sir, anything else I can help with today sir?”

“No old man, that’ll be it for today. I’ve got what I needed.”

The Kid winked, and put the boxes of caps and lead away in his pack. The lead was heavy, and added about seven pounds to his total pack weight. But he could handle it. The Kid walked out, and made his way back through the crowded street full of Brahmin, and stepped onto the porch of the burlesque house. The sound of punches connecting to faces echoed as men shouted to egg on the fight.

“Hit’em!”

“Hit’em good Jack!”

“ Don’t let up, pummel the bastard!”

The Kid just walked in, and made his way back up to the room he’d been in. The young girl was gone now, probably off with another man in another room, or busy watching the fight from a window somewhere else. The Kid didn’t mind, and threw his pack onto the spring framed bed. He took off his gun belt, and grabbed the tools he needed for making some new bullets. In the room, there was a small fireplace. He grabbed a special pot, and started a fire in the fireplace, to melt the lead down. He put the .36 Caliber bullet molder on the table, and began working with the lead. It melted quickly, and soon The Kid poured some of the lead into a small heated tube. He poured the lead into the bullet molder, and clamped it tight together. While he waited, he busied with some more lead.

After about an hour listening to the fight, and the fight being broken up, The Kid finished with his bullet molding. He had enough lead balls to use later on in his travels. He quickly cleaned up the place, and put away what needed to be put away. Suddenly, a knock came to the door. The Kid reacted by grabbing his revolver, and cocking the hammer back. Unknowing who it was, The Kid didn’t trust whoever it was.

“Who’s there?” He asked, holding the revolver level at his side.

“It’s just me,” came the reply. It was the young woman from earlier. “I just wanted to see how you were?”

“I’m fine, come on in.” The Kid said putting away his revolver. The door opened, the young woman walked in, and closed it behind her. She was wearing a pink dress that fit her very well. Her hair was tied up, and she had two wooden sticks holding her hair in place.

“So where are you off to?” The smolders still simmered in the dowsed fire.

“Like I said, I’ve got business to do. I had to get some things together though first.”

The young woman walked over to The Kid, grabbing his arm and giving him a look with her puppy dog eyes.

“Will you take me on your next job? Mr. Bounty Killer! I’ve always wanted to get out of this hell-hole of a town. And I see, that you’re my chance.” The young woman smiled, and pressed closer to The Kid. She blushed, and made her intentions clear with a light kiss on the cheek. But The Kid would have none of it.

“Sorry hun, but you’re not really the killing type. And to be a Bounty Killer, you’ve got to kill sometimes. Not always, but sometimes. If the bounty calls for it, you see.”

“Oh I do, I do see, but will you take me along anyway? I’m so tired of living in this town.” The Kid pulled away, and busied himself with his pack, and gear.

“No, I’m sorry hun. Can’t be done. I’m not lookin’ for a baby sitting job, I’m here on other business.”

The young woman looked at him, giving him a mean look. She was obviously not pleased by his insistence that she stay here. The young woman even stomped her foot on the hardwood floors, and gritted her teeth together. The Kid turned to her in curiosity.

“What the hell brought this on anyway? You know nothing about me besides I’m a bounty killer, and can kill. I hope last night wasn’t a mistake?”

“No silly,” the young woman said, suddenly smiling and batting her eye lashes. “It wasn’t a mistake! I’m just not interested in this line of work anymore, you see? I want to help you on your jobs. We’re both fairly young, and can still get away with things.”

The Kid looked at her, dumbfounded by her reply. What kinda prosttute suddenly got tired of being a woman of the night, and decided to become a Bounty Killer? The Kid didn’t trust her, and he didn’t trust most people he came across and met anyway.

“No, now if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like you to leave. I’m goin’ to the Sheriff’s Office to see what bounties he’s got layin’ around. You may come along if you want, but only as far as the Sheriff’s Office.” The Kid strapped on his gun belt, and put on his pack. The young woman smiled and grabbed The Kid’s arm, looping her arm around his. She smiled and batted her eye lashes, before the two walked out the door and down the hall to the Sheriff’s Office.

At the Sheriff’s Office, the two Brahmin-boys who had been fighting each other earlier, were laying silently in the jail cell. The Sheriff just smiled, and tipped his hat to The Kid and the young woman as they walked inside.

“What can I do for you two today?”

The Kid stepped forward to the Sheriff’s desk.

“I’d like to see what kinda bounties you’ve got to offer?”

“Oh, well than.” The Sheriff opened the drawer in his desk, and pulled out large papers, with faces. “I’ve got thirteen of them for ya! Which would you like? We’ve got ‘East Pete’ the Brahmin Rustler, he’s a thousand caps. Plus two hundred from the Brahmin Owner himself, Mr. Cassidy. Than we’ve got a man known as ‘Chico’ who’s five thousand caps. He’s got a whole slew of charges against him.”

“Like what?” The Kid asked, sitting down in the seat across the Sheriff.

“Well,” the Sheriff said pushing his hat above his forehead. “Where should I start? He’s done murder, [censored], thieving of every kind, robbery, cheatin’ at poker and other card games. You name it, he’s probably done it?” The Kid looked at the flyer for “Chico”.

“I’ll take it. Where was he last seen?”

“Glade, a small town just ten miles from here, right over the hills. Some said he’d been here, but I aint had no reports about him. So he probably be in Glade, or the hills between here and there.” The Kid tilted his hat in appreciation, and took the flyer along with him. The young woman smiled, and batted her eye lashes again at The Kid.

“You stay here, I’m not taking on any baby sitting duty. Unless your Sheriff here wants to pay me for it?”

“Oh no, she’s your problem.” The Sheriff said smiling and putting the other flyers away. “You two have fun ya hear?”

The Kid gave a look of disappointment and ungratefulness to the Sheriff, who just pulled his hat over his face and went to sleep. The streets had been cleared of Brahmin, who were all corralled now outside the town. The Kid started towards Glade, but before he did, he silently tied the young woman to a post. He gaged her, so she couldn’t scream at him or for anyone. Through the gag though, she mumbled insults and obscenities to him as he just smiled and waved farewell to her. The sun was high in the sky already, and The Kid had only an easy ten miles to walk. Even if he had to go through some dry beaten hills.

The hills weren’t very big, or very treacherous like others were. They had a nice rounding to them, and didn’t have the jagged sides and tops like others The Kid had crossed or gone around had. These hills were nice, and easy to pass through. But as The Kid made his way through a pass named “Weasley Pass”, a voice echoed. The Kid only had six miles to go until he hit Glade, but the voice interrupted him.

“How’s it goin‘ boy! Come lookin‘ for me? Lookin‘ for ‘Chico‘!”

The Kid looked around a bit nervously since he couldn’t see or tell where the voice was coming from. He unholstered one of his revolvers, and brought the hammer back.

“I’m guessin‘ you’d be ‘Chico’? What’s your real name pal?”

“Not happening boy, I aint tellin’ you spit about my real name. Chico’s all you’re getting; besides a bullet or two that is.” The man’s voice had a sinister high pitched cackle, as the sudden sound of a rifle echoed through the hills. The bullet whizzed right past The Kid’s head, just missing his ear. More of the sick cackling laugh came, as The Kid took cover behind a tall rock.

“Don’t be shy kid, I aint lookin’ to harm you none. That was just me seein’ what you’d be about? Now that I do, I won’t shoot. And you won’t shoot either, deal?”

The Kid was no fool, he didn’t trust a word Chico said.

“Oh no Chico, you shoot at me, you better make sure you hit me. Because I aim to kill, not bring you in alive now. Before you shot, it might have been a different story. But now, that’s not the case. So either give up, or I’ll come up there and shoot you down with all six of my shots!”

Chico replied only with this cackle laugh, firing three more shots at the rock. The Kid just stood there behind it, wishing he had a plan. He was pinned, he had no way out of it besides getting himself shot in the process of running. But then he found a rock, a rock he could use. The Kid grabbed the rock, and guessed where Chico was laying in hiding. Where he was shooting from.

“Chico, Chico, don’t be a stink-o!” The Kid said quickly throwing the rock at his position, and taking cover back behind the other. Two shots rang out, but both just hit the rock The Kid hid behind.

“Nice try, but I’m a bit more to your left.” The Kid smiled, and Chico fired three more shots.

“What kinda gun you using Chico? Sounds like an automatic gun? FAL maybe? Or maybe you’re using an M-14?”

“You’re good kid, but it’s neither. Ever think the gun that’d have the bullet with your name on it, would be a M2?” The Kid just smiled again, laughing out loud so Chico could hear it. “What are you laughing at? This isn’t really funny on your part. I’m gonna kill you boy!”

“Chico, Chico, so stupid and naive. I think every gun has a bullet with my name on it. Even my own! It just depends on when I come across it; but I’m pretty sure that your little M2 doesn’t have a bullet with my name on it. Though, I can promise you my Colts have a round or two with your name on it. How about we fight fare, eh? Face to face? Pistol to pistol.”

There was a moment of silence, as Chico thought the idea over. He wasn’t sure what the kid had in mind, maybe it was a trick? Chico may have been stupid and naive, but he was a survivor. He’d survived long enough to get five thousand caps on his head.

“I don’t have a pistol son. Only my M2; looks like your idea doesn’t work or is gonna happen.”

“How about I let you use one of my pistols? I’ll let you use my second Colt. Like I said, even I think my guns might have a bullet with my name on it?”

There was another silence, longer this time. Chico mumbled and thought to himself, The Kid waiting for an answer.

“Alright boy, I’ll use one of your pistols. It’ll be ironic to kill someone with their own gun.” He laughed his cackle again, moved around. The Kid still stood behind the rock. “No tricks though, I’m gonna make sure you’ve got rounds in there for me.”

“No tricks Chico, just my revolver. Six rounds for you, six rounds for me. Fair enough?”

Chico suddenly appeared from beside the rock. His M2 in hand. The Kid knew it was empty, or he’d had fired on him already. Either that, or Chico just wasn’t thinking ten steps ahead like The Kid was. Chico stared at The Kid, shocked to see how young he was.

“But you’re only a boy! You won’t win against a full grown man! This’ll be easy.” The Kid didn’t say a word, he just smiled a fake smile, and chuckled a fake chuckle. Chico laid his M2 on the ground beside him, keeping his eyes on The Kid. It wasn’t a bad looking little carbine. Fully automatic, but for some reason Chico’s wasn’t firing fully. Maybe he was dumb, and only said that for striking fear? Maybe it was just a typical M1 Carbine.

“Alright, give me one of your revolvers. I’ll check it first, and no funny business remember.”

“I remember Chico, no funny business.” The Kid reached for his left revolver, and without hesitation, handed it towards Chico who was still a bit weary. He eyed The Kid, trying to read his face. But all he could read, was that he was young and smoked a cigar stub. “Take it for christ sakes!” The Kid urged on. Chico quickly grabbed the revolver from The Kid’s hand.

“Ha ha ha!” Chico exclaimed, raising the revolver in the air. His smile and look of excitement was soon washed away, as a wave of fear hit him. Just as he looked at back at The Kid, The Kid had his second revolver aimed right at Chico. It was all in a blink of Chico’s eyes, that The Kid fired three quick shots, all hitting Chico in the chest and ribs. The dark skinned man fell to the ground, blood oozing out of his wounds. The Kid stood there a moment, the end of his revolver smoking from the powder. He quickly leaned down and grabbed his spare revolver, spinning it on his finger before holstering it.

“That’s for shooting at me, and touching my things, [censored]!” The Kid spit on the dead man’s face, and holstered his other revolver. Chico may have gotten away before, but never had Chico crossed a gun hand such as The Kid in all his days. The Kid was one of a kind in all the wasteland of New Mexico.

Soon after the fight, The Kid was back with Chico’s limp bloody body. The Sheriff of the previous town smiled and handed The Kid the five thousand caps in a little sack. The Kid thanked the Sheriff, and walked out.

“You did good kid, I’d like to buy you a beer?”

“No thanks, I’ve got places to go and people to see.” The Kid waved farewell, and walked calmly out of the town, headed towards Glade. The young woman prosttute, had long been untied and un-gagged from her post. The Kid smiled, and continued on his way as he started up a little whistling tune.
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Angus Poole
 
Posts: 3594
Joined: Fri Aug 03, 2007 9:04 pm

Post » Sat Nov 06, 2010 9:28 am

I enjoy westerns quite a bit so I believe this fanfic is going to be very well done. My only critique is a spelling error in the first chapter where you put disbelieve instead of disbelief. The Kid is an interesting character and would like to see further character development in future installments.
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jenny goodwin
 
Posts: 3461
Joined: Wed Sep 13, 2006 4:57 am

Post » Sat Nov 06, 2010 9:18 am

Thanks Hircine, I thought I'd edited that because I saw it too. :P Guess not. Glad you like it though, and keep reading. :)
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Stephy Beck
 
Posts: 3492
Joined: Mon Apr 16, 2007 12:33 pm

Post » Sat Nov 06, 2010 6:19 am

Fake Empire- Part 1


The dawn of a new day was breaking over the ridge line. All around, as far as the eyes could see, the land was cast in an orangey glow from the not too high sun. The Kid gathered his things, scattered the smolders of his fire, and headed to the not too distance settlement. It was another day, and another cap to be made ... hopefully. The settlement, was a big one for The Kid. It had been his old hunting ground, where he learned his tool of the trade; where he killed his first man, and several others after. It wasn’t soon after he’d killed the men, he was cast out of the settlement which used to be a city before the war. The settlement was called Vegas, and if you weren’t too smart, you’d think it was New Vegas, but that just wasn’t the case. Vegas was once known as Las Vegas, New Mexico. It’d been hit by bombs, but the radiation and fallout of them had long been gone or depleted. It had become a hub of sorts. Guns for hire, murderers, outlaws, they all swarmed to Vegas.

When The Kid arrived, he was met by a newly constructed steel wall. It was tall, made of welded together sheets of steel, and other pieces scavenged from the wasteland. There were guards, heavily armed guards none the less. They were clad in well kept Combat Armor, not seen in the wasteland for over two hundred years. The guards greeted The Kid with restrained hostility.

“Hold it right there [censored], what’s your business in Vegas? We don’t let just any wastelander walk inside here.” The guards manning the gate smiled and eyed one another, ready for a kill.

“I’ve come to see your boss. I also believe he’s the Mayor of Vegas?” The Kid just smiled, and chewed on his thin cigar. His foot tapped the ground in rapid succession, showing his urgency to get inside. The guards noticed this.

“Well kid, you’ve got some catching up to do. Maybe he was Mayor before, when you was around. But Mayor dikeson isn’t no Mayor anymore. We aint had a Mayor here for sometime. This here land your treddin’ on, belongs to Emperor Herre! All powerful and amazing Emperor. It’s said that Mayor dikeson was cast out to the wasteland, never to be seen again.”

The Kid just kept on smiling, and chewing on his cigar as he let the guard continue. The others seemed less interested in the history lesson, and into the killing of The Kid. Why they wanted this so bad; well, most blood thirty people are hard to explain. Their motives for their actions are always different from one another.

“Well, it’s for the better anyway. Aint it boys?” The guards laughed together, a sickening cackle like one he’d heard before in other travels. “Emperor Herre, has made Vegas ten times more safe, and ten times more sufficient.”

“Oh, is that so?” The Kid said stepping to the gate. “Well that’s all fine and dandy, but fellas, I’ve got to get inside. Do some tradin’, killin’, lovin’, and workin’. You don’t mind do you?” The guards didn’t respond, but with the raising of the large steel gate.

“Just don’t cause no trouble for us ya hear! The Vegas Vanguard isn’t one to be messed with. Come on in, but do your business and transactions quickly, understand?” The Kid just nodded and walked in, passing through a lonely empty street before find any signs of other life. The market place, was full of vendors and merchants, shouting out prices, goods, and other scams to get people to buy their wears and goods.

“Come one, come all, to see the magnificent Grouch Appliances! I’ve got everything you need! From toasters to stoves; I can help you with any home appliance needs. Don’t be shy now!”

The Kid just ignored them all, and made his way through. rugged made carts passed through the streets, being pulled by none other than Brahmin. Un expecting to The Kid, the Vegas Vanguard was everywhere, on every street, and in every building; or so it seemed to The Kid as he walked. They were heavily armed with fully-automatic rifles, machine-guns, machine-pistols, and other assorted heavy duty military weapons. The Kid thought it best to take the guards advice, and keep to himself when talking, or just generally being around them. It seemed like most did anyway.

“Hey kid!” Someone shouted from the crowd. “Hey kid! Over here kid! No, not that way, this way kid!”

The Kid looked around, searching for the voice. He soon found it, and with that voice stood a man who seemed a little older than him, waving towards him. The Kid was suspicious of the man. He didn’t trust anyone he didn’t know, and even then he had a hard time trusting them. Anyone could be a potential sellout or thief. It was all a matter of how, when, and nobody really cared about the why.

“What do you want?” The Kid shouted to the young man.

“I’ve got something to show you. You are The Kid right?”

The Kid paused, uncertain on how this man knew him. But he went with it anyway, because he could always just end up killing the young man if he tried anything.

“Maybe? Why do you want to know that?”

“Come here and I’ll show you. Get out of the street, and let people pass why don’t you!”

“Fine.” The Kid said, moving through a crowd, and soon stepping out to see the young man in front of him. “What do you want? And what makes you think I’m ‘The Kid’?”

The young man just smiled, and from his belt, pulled out a rolled up paper. He quickly unrolled it, and to The Kid’s surprise had a picture of him. Above his face, was a bounty of twenty-two hundred caps. The Kid didn’t understand it, who’d put a bounty on his head? And for twenty-two hundred caps, The Kid probably would have brought himself in.

“[censored], that aint really me.” The Kid said looking at the young man. Two other men walked over, coming out of hiding. They had The Kid surrounded. They all looked at him sinisterly, and grinned an evil grin.

“Well kid, it is your face and to us you’re worth twenty-two hundred caps. So why don’t we make this easy, and you just come with us?”

The Kid thought about, while reaching down for one of his revolvers. The other two men who’d appeared, had their 10mm pistols drawn and pointed at The Kid.

“Well, I’m not sure if you’ll be collecting this bounty. You see, I’m not much of one, for giving into dying. Or being put into jail. Specially since I’ve just arrived to Vegas. And as a matter of fact, I’m lookin’ to see Emperor Herre later on. So if you can wait to collect the bounty later, I’d really appreciate it.”

The three men erupted in laughter. One even held his sides laughing at The Kid’s request. It may not have been a serious request, but they didn’t have to know that, even if it did sound silly. The leader of the trio, just smiled and pulled out his own pistol. The Kid could tell by just looking at them, that they hadn’t had much experience in the bounty killer business.

“No kid, I think we’ll be taking you in now. Emperor Herre can kiss our asses anyway, this place has gone to hell thanks to his new laws and Vanguard.”

“What do you mean?” The Kid asked quickly.

“I mean, you’re coming with us, and that’s the end of it. We really don’t want to have to shoot you in the daytime. It’d really make our jobs harder than it should be, because the Vanguard would come right down on us.”

The Kid just rolled his eyes, and with a blink of an eye, and the end of the burned cigar falling to the ground, The Kid removed his revolvers and fired in quick succession at the two men with the 10mm pistols. They hardly let out a noise, as blood spurted from their chests. The third man just looked in shock, dropping his own pistol. The Kid wouldn’t have any of his cowardice though, and without a seconds hesitation, fired a round into the man’s shoulder. He fell to the ground, cringing in pain as The Kid knelt down beside him, grabbing his shirt collar.

“Now, you’re gonna tell me what’s so wrong with this Emperor Herre, and you’re gonna make it fast before the Vegas Vanguard gets here. Understand me ‘Plum Bob’?”

The man nodded as he grit his teeth together in pain.

“If you take me to my house, I can tell you everything. I promise you, I’ll tell you everything, please just don’t kill me. Please, I beg of you!” The Kid rolled his eyes, and grabbed the man from off the ground, rushing through some houses. He didn’t want to be there longer than he had to.

Soon they were inside the man’s measly little shack of a home. There wasn’t much, and no one else but him seemed to live there. It put The Kid at ease a bit.

“Alright, start talkin’ or I’ll put a bullet through your skull.”

“Emperor Herre is just a straight bastard. He taxes everyone to the gills, and gives little to anyone. You’ve seen the city, it may look nice in some places, but those places are only inhabited by those who can give the Empire a good amount of caps or something else. Like a bribe. Not many can do that, so we’re taxed to the gills. That’s why me and my friends got your bounty. We wanted to pay our way into the life you see.”

“I don’t give a damn about your life, or your friends, or why you wanted my bounty. And how the hell did I get a bounty anyway?” The Kid scratched his head in wonder, as the man just shrugged his good shoulder. He was too busy holding the wound on his other. “Continue with the Emperor and his Empire.”

“Well, he’s been in power for three years. After Mayor dikeson was removed from his seat, and thrown out into the wasteland, Vegas was turned into chaos. Even more so than before. That’s when Emperor Herre came, and decided that he and his band of mercenaries could help us. Make Vegas good, and prosper. What a joke that was, and I even helped the bastard get into control. Should have blown my brains out when I had the chance.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, cut to the chase. Tell me about the Emperor himself. How he got into power?... Tell me, does he own that rugged lookin’ tower? The one right over there that’s standing out over everything around?”

“Yep, that be Herre Tower. Claimed that everyone... well that’s not important. He took it for himself, if you want to cut to the chase. There’s been some fighting against the Vegas Vanguard, but they’re always put down and silenced quickly. Everyday it seems one pops up, and just hours after hearing about them, it’s like they’ve disappeared. Never to be heard again.”

The man got up from his seat, and walked over to clean up and fix his wound. The Kid just leaned on some old computer like monitor, and let the man continue.

“So why so interested in Emperor Herre anyway? Kill someone you knew or know? Well get in line buddy, you’re not the only one.”

The Kid smiled, and even let out a laugh as he grabbed a new cigar from his pocket. The man poured alcohol onto his wound, and let out a hiss of pain.

“No, no, nothing like that that I’m aware of. I’m originally from here. I actually been gone for four years, been in a kind of exile if you will. But now I’ve come back. I was planning on putting a bullet through Mayor dikeson’s head for kicking my ass out, but I rather like this Emperor guy of yours. Can I get a meeting with him?”

The man suddenly dropped his bottle of alcohol, and turned to The Kid, giving a look as if The Kid had said something out of line and absolutely crazy.

“Really? You want to meet Emperor Herre, and say or do what? Put a bullet through his head? Not gonna happen. Emperor Herre’s personal body guards are clad in old pre-war Power Armor. No way you’re gonna be able to reach him. Specially when none of us can.”

“Well how could I get in touch with Emperor Herre?”

“I dunno, I’m not the one to ask that kind of question. I’m kinda busy with a wound you gave me.” The Kid didn’t respond, he just stared at the man, knowing he was hiding something. “Well, I do know of someone who might get you through? Or at least, get you through the start. Her name’s Officer Yates. She’s one of the guards at Herre Tower. She’s supporting and not so... shall I say... hostile to us regular folks. She’ll help you get in, and might even help you with a cover story. Maybe?”

“How do I contact Officer Yates?”

“I’ll do it, just a minute.” The man walked over to a window, and opened the window doors. “Hey Mike, tell Officer Yates that there’s someone she needs to meet. Okay?”

The man outside the window just nodded and hurried off towards Herre Tower. The Kid look suspicious, and uncertain.

“Why don’t you just talk with her?”

“She doesn’t like me. Last time I tried, she almost put a bullet in my head. I tried double-crossing her once. It was only to get some food, that’s all. It wasn’t anything serious.”

The Kid smiled, and just shook his head in disapproval of the man’s actions. He stepped closer to the man, who closed the window and went back to his wound. The Kid watched, and then pulled one of his revolvers.

“What was your name, I didn’t catch it?” The Kid had his revolver squared on the man’s chest. A perfect kill shot. The man turned around, nervous and scared of what The Kid would do.

“M-m-my name? Why do you want m-m-my name?”

“I always know the names of the men I kill. You’re no exception.”

The Kid cocked back the hammer, when the man began to sweat. He took a deep gulp, and stuttered before speaking.

“T-t-t-tim... my n-n-n-name’s Tim.”

“Well Tim, I’m sorry I have to do this. It’s nothing too personal, but since earlier, when you and your boys tried killing me, I’ve had this itching to do the same in return... I’ve already done it to your friends. So you’re obviously the next in line, right?”

“No please don’t do this, we can work something out? I can help you with things. Anything you want! I won’t try anything funny.”

The Kid just shook his head, and waved his revolver around a bit.

“Oh no, you’ve double crossed one of the Herre Tower guards. Why wouldn’t someone like you try double crossing me?”

“Because-” And like that, without another word spoken from Tim, The Kid fired a round right into his heart. Tim fell to his knees, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, and blood pumped out of the hole the bullet had made. The Kid walked over, and double checked, putting another in his head. His body was limp, and when his body rested, it looked like he was pushed tightly into the corner.

“Well Tim, looks like you’re [censored] out of luck. And you won’t be collecting that bounty on me.” The Kid holstered his revolver, and then stepped through the door of the shack, hurrying away from the house. When he was well away, he was shocked to see Mike, the silent man from before.

“You killed him didn’t you?”

“Yes,” The Kid said without hesitation. “And I’ll kill you too if you’re not careful.”

“No, it’s not like that. I want to thank you for doing it, he was a bad man. Con man if you will. He’d say anything to get out of a jam. Officer Yates will see you later. Around noon or so? Is that fine?”

“I guess so. Should I wear anything special?” The Kid smiled, puffs of smoke came from his cigar.

“No, no, just come as you are. And you may call her Elizabeth Yates if you like, or just Elizabeth. She doesn’t go by Officer Yates when off duty. See you around, and thanks again.” And just like that, Mike was gone into a crowd. The Kid was weirded out by this newly set up Vegas; it’d changed quite a bit since his last visit four years ago.
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Misty lt
 
Posts: 3400
Joined: Mon Dec 25, 2006 10:06 am

Post » Sat Nov 06, 2010 2:37 pm

Lost Youth


His breathing was heavy, his heart raced fast, and his legs were sore from all the running. The young boy turned a quick corner, as the sound of more running feet echoed behind him. Shouts echoed along with them, as the chased the boy relentlessly. Their breath was also heavy, and they took deep breaths in between words and sentences.

“Hey! Don’t.... let the kid! Just get him!”

“After him!”

Were just a couple of the shouts to the boy, and those chasing behind him. There seemed to be no way of getting rid of these pursuers, as the young boy turned corner after corner, street after street. But soon enough, as the young boy raced his way through to the market district, he lost them in the crowd. He could see them through the crowd, but with the waves of people and his short boy hight, the pursuers could no longer follow. The leader, with a big build, and balled head kicked the dirt as he turned to his men. The young boy just laughed and hurried away with the flood of people.

“That was close,” the boy mumbled to himself, turning into an empty alley. He checked his pocket, and a little jingle came. He still had the goods. The houses around him, were nothing but shacks made of welded steel and old car parts. And those living in the shacks looked no better. But for the young boy, it was his home; which he soon came upon after strolling through some more alleys and streets.

“Billy! Oh Billy, hurry!” A young girls voice said. The boy looked, and saw a little girl, about his age, waving to him. She had a smile from ear to ear, and had blonde hair that was dirty from lack of a bath. “Hurry Billy, we’re waiting!”

The boy smiled and rushed over, hugging the girl who blushed and walked into the house behind him. Greeting Billy, there was his mother and father, and the family dog. Even though they were poor and had little, this family seemed to make the best of it.

“Billy, you made it finally. Where were you?” His mother asked.

“Just hanging around the markets.” He replied smiling. The young girl, his sister nudged him with her elbow and just laughed at him.

“Yeah right! You were busy taking things, weren’t you!”

“Shut up Mary!” Billy exclaimed tightening his fists. Mary backed down, and the boy’s father stepped in. He gave Billy a stern look, and grabbed his balled up hand, clenching it tight with his own fist. Billy dropped to his knees, as he tried to pull it away.

“That’s enough, let Billy go. He’ll return the stuff tomorrow. But of now let’s eat, please.” The pulled the father away, who just looked at Billy with anger. This obviously wasn’t the first time Billy had taken what wasn’t his, but what could they expect. They were poor, dirt poor, and hardly made anything. A cap or two here and there working on a Brahmin ranch just outside the city.

“Don’t steal boy, you know we aint into stealin’! Next time you do, I’ll give you a lashing you aint ever felt before!”

Billy just looked at his dad with shame, and a bit of fear. His knuckles and hand were read from the pressure, and he rubbed them to make the pain go away. Mary just smiled and stuck her tongue out, before sitting with him at the table. Billy’s mother grabbed the dish, and opened it to some cooked Radroach; something Billy wasn’t all that fond of, but it was cheap and easy. The two little kids suddenly gave pouty faces.

“Don’t pout, this is good for you. Eat Radroach, and you’ll grow up to be big an strong. Understand?” The kid’s nodded and let their mother serve them the cooked radiated cockroach.

After eating, and picking their teeth, the kids went to their room. Both had to share a room, to cut the cost of the payments down.

“Want to play Wasteland Raiders, Billy?” Mary asked grabbing their “swords” which were just two sticks.

“Nah, why don’t we go walk outside?”

His sister shrugged and put the sticks in her pocket. The sun was just starting to set when the kids stepped out of the house, and started their little walk. It was peaceful outside, and there were some other kids playing outside as well. Billy didn’t get along with most of the kids in his area, mostly it ended up with blood drawn and bruising afterwards. The kid’s just ignored Billy and Mary, and the brother and sister went on their way.

“So what did you take this time, Billy?” Mary asked looking at him.

“Just some woman’s jewelry. Maybe a couple of caps.”

“Give me the caps, and we can sell the jewelry to Mam in the market district!”

“Mam doesn’t take any hot items, Mary. You know better than that, Mam isn’t that kinda business woman.” Billy kicked some dirt in frustration.

“Maybe she doesn’t up front. But if we go see her now at her home, she’ll do it. Believe me, Sarah and I went once and sold Mam some Boots. Got five caps out of it.”

“Those same boots that Dad wears? The ones you said you found off some drunk in the city?”

Mary just nodded with a smile, and Billy did the same. They gave a short laugh, and then hurried off to Mam’s home. She didn’t live far, but her house was always very nice and pretty. Mam had a good business of being a jewelry saleswoman, and seller of other things as well. From time to time, she liked to help those like Billy and Mary’s family who were dirt poor. She kept their heads just above the irradiated water.

“Mam, Mam, Mam!” The two shouted when they saw Mam’s front. She was quietly sitting in her old wooden rocking chair, smoking a cigarette. The woman was fat, and compared to Billy and Mary, ate like a Queen every night. She wore round blue lensed sunglasses, and had a large sombrero with strings and little red balls at the end which waved around when she looked at the two kids coming.

“Hey you two. How’s it going? Still causing trouble?”

Billy nodded, and Mary just shrugged. The woman gave a laugh and took a quick drag off her cigarette. Her dress was very ratty and worn.

“We’ve got some gifts for you, Mam.” Billy said reaching into his pocket.

“Not here boy!” Mam looked around, making sure no one was looking. “Come inside you two, I’ll pour you both some tall glasses of Brahmin milk, and we’ll open these gifts together.” The two kids followed inside, and closed the door behind them.

“How’s the business Mam?” Mary asked taking a seat in Mam’s over sized reclining chair. Or so it seemed to such a small little girl who wasn’t very big at all weight wise.

“It’s goin’ fine Mary, thanks for asking. How are your folks?”

“Fine. But they’re mad at Billy, for the gifts.” Mary smiled and glanced at Billy who gave a sour look.

“Oh, is that why you’ve come to me? Well, we’ll see what you’ve got to offer and I might just reward you.” Mam walked over, handing the two glasses of milk. “So Billy, what is it you’ve got for me?” Billy took a moment to chug down some milk before taking a breath, and setting the glass down.

“I’ve got a necklace, two bracelets, and a few rings. They looked pricey!” Mam took them, and looked them over with her small fat fingers.

“That they are, that they are my sweet little Billy. Who’d you steal them from?”

“I dunno their names. They live over in the Rich area of town.”

“What’d they look like?”

“How the hell should I know that, I wasn’t busy checking out their faces or clothes. I was busy taking their jewelry!”

“Boy, don’t take that attitude up with me. I aint have none of that, ya understand?” Billy nodded and gave a look of apology. Mary just sat in the chair drinking her Brahmin milk. “Well, they are indeed pricey. I won’t be able to move them through my shop for a couple of days seein’ how you just took them today. But give me a week, and I’ll pay you.” Billy for being the age he was, was not all that stupid when it came to bartering deals.

“Mam, give me at least five percent right now. The rest you can give me in a week.”

“That’s not how I work Billy, you know that. In a week, you’ll get your caps. Don’t worry, you can trust me.” The boy just shrugged and thought.

“How about just ten caps for both us? Please Mam. You can pay the jewelry money later like you said you would.”

The fat woman sighed and looked at her new jewelry. She took off her sombrero, and took a little sack that sat on her head. Mary laughed at the sight, and then went silent. Mam grabbed ten caps for the each of them.

“Now you two, finish your milk and then head home. I’ll walk you since it’s late, and you know the Vegas Police Force isn’t gonna take kindly to two kids wandering around past sundown. The two nodded, and quickly finished their milk. Mam grabbed her sombrero, and soon the three were off back to the house. Mary and Mam held hands as Billy walked in front of them, looking down at the empty alleys. Nobody was on the streets, except for maybe a couple of people making deals or talking. But for the most part, the streets and alleys were empty.

“It’s kinda spooky afterwards, isn’t it Mam.” Mary said looking up.

“Sometimes Mary, but you’re safe with your brother.” Billy just shrugged and put his hands inside his pant’s pockets.

“Billy, Marry, there you two are. We were getting a bit worried.” Their father said greeting them at the door. “But I see you were with Mam. Thanks for bringing them home, Mam.”

“No need, I just didn’t want them getting into trouble.” The two advlts smiled, and the kids went inside. Their mom walked to the door, and the three started up a conversation. Both Mary and Billy were tired, their days had been long. Specially for Billy who had been running from the police. Two crawled into the single bed, and laid there on their backs, looking at he ceiling.

“What do you want to do when you get older, Billy?” Mary asked in a soft voice.

“I dunno? Leave Vegas. Maybe stay here? Why? What do you want to do?”

Mary raised her arms up, indicating she didn’t know either. The two just stared at the ceiling, not a word being spoken, and then the two soon fell asleep. The voices of their parents and Mam’s going silent and the door closing.
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CHangohh BOyy
 
Posts: 3462
Joined: Mon Aug 20, 2007 12:12 pm

Post » Sat Nov 06, 2010 6:37 am

I rock back to the forum to see how things are going and who do i see? Good to see you still write old friend. Its been a while since ive seen a well crafted Fanfic like this one, gets me thinking about your older fanfics and RPs. Good times good times, im gonna be coming back for sure to see how this story goes. Again great to see you again.
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sharon
 
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