My shoes sunk deep into the grimy gray mud of the valley. I need to get some boots, I thought to myself.
All around me was a small village crafted from wood planks and hand-dug foundations. A rider and his horse passed by me at an unexpected speed, splashing dirty water over my pants. In the distance there was a sign that read ‘CITY OF GRENADINE. WHERE HOSPITALITY PROSPERS’, yet something about the ambiance wasn’t really selling that promise.
Grubby workers smoked on the porches of the various saloons and shops as I strut into the center of town all alone. The town seemed to be devoid of women and children, at least the kind that were free to go about and play. Nothing but cold stares and hands resting on pistols. Seemed to me like I was in the right place to find that bounty after all.
Moons like Targus, and by extension cities like Grenadine, were poor enough that people couldn’t dream of accessing tech beyond horses and cheap coal-burnt electricity. Luckily this wasn’t our first rodeo by a long shot, so Logan and I made sure the Tap Dancer was hidden far away from society. And speaking of long shots…
I looked up on the rocky hill in the horizon and saw the glint of a sniper’s scope flash in the sunlight. Seeing as we were on a hastily colonized moon, there was a severe lack of vegetation for cover. What made up for it were deep valleys and high peaks, just like what Logan had set himself up on.
Knowing I had my back being watched, I waltzed straight on to the defunct sheriff’s office of the city. The windows were blown out and boarded up, and most buildings around it seemed to be the same. If I were a big shot criminal trying to send a message, that’s where I’d be.
I stood out on the street and took a deep breath. Confidence is key, Jesse. “Isiah Brooke! I want to talk to you! Come on out!” Now all I had to do was hope he didn’t just shoot me as I stood out in the open. Bill from the delegations office said Brooke liked looking the people he killed in the eyes, and surely my dearest friend wouldn’t give me false info.
Boards in the sheriff’s office creaked as things shifted around. Spurs could be heard jingling as footsteps approached. Oh great, he’s the kind of guy to wear spurs. As the jangling made me expect, a hefty man in assless chaps and a ten gallon hat waddled out. My confusion just barely outweighed my amusement. The man spoke in a deliberately hoarse voice as he muttered out. “What’de ye want?”
“You’re… You’re Isiah Brooke?” I questioned, dumbfounded.
The fat man chewed on his tobacco, spat on the ground, then looked in the distance. “That’s me…”
There was a long pause in the conversation, as I simply could not find words. This fella was worth a thousand dollars and killed eighteen men… On top of all that, he had definitely gained some weight since his portrait was made. “W-Well… Uh… I’m here to turn you into the law, Brooke.”
“Ahhh. A bounty hunter. Man of the law…” He said, spitting again in the same spot.
“I’m more like an independent contractor.” I said, shifting uneasily. “So… I can assume you know what I’m going to say next. Easy way. Hard way. All that.”
The fat man squinted as he put both hands on his oversized belt buckle, not even caring to keep his hand near the gun on his hip. “And what’s your incentive? You look all alone to me.”
“Not alone.” I said, waving my hand in the air. A warning shot cracked throughout the valley as Logan made a hole through the railing of the porch Brooke stood on. “Now. Easy way or hard way. Warm or cold.” I tried to be as intimidating as possible, but Brooke seemed to be unfazed. Logan made me promise to be cautious, and I was already eyeing the closest bit of cover to hide behind if his goons showed up.
Barely flinching, Brooke scoffed. As bizarre as he was, the man did have some amount of grit. He was a killer, after all. “You know what? I appreciate you comin’ out here and facin’ me like a man… I tell ye what.” He gave a small gesture, and the barrels of rifles began to emerge from all the surrounding buildings. Of course, all pointed at me. “You call your man down, and I’ll give you a chance.”
I glanced to all the windows I saw the glint of rifling at. With just a split second to do it, I counted upwards of nine gunmen… Well, this ended up being a pretty shitty plan. Camping out and waiting to snipe him from afar wouldn’t have worked with all his henchmen since we had to collect the body, and neither did guns blazing. Bait and switch was our angle, and that was brought on its head. “What kind of chance are we talking about?” I said, buying time if nothing else.
“You stay here overnight. Do all the preparations you want. Then, tomorrow at high noon, we have a duel. If you’re a quicker draw, then my boys will let you leave.” What? I knew they mentioned he liked to duel, but I was on a silver platter.
“What’s the catch?” I said frankly. Surely he had some ulterior motive. Hell, he could have a search party looking for Logan at that very second. It wouldn’t fit his description to kill a man in an unsporting way, though.
“No catch.” He said, cocky. “I’m just lookin’ for someone with enough skill to beat me. Eighteen fellas in and nobody’s gotten close.”
I was astounded. I was a good read of character, and for whatever reason I really didn’t think he was lying. Very cautiously, I waved Logan down. “Alright. You got what you want.”
Brooke’s hand moved from his belt buckle to his holster in a flash. Before I could flinch, he drew iron and fired. In a brief second, I wondered if I was about to finally kick the bucket, but instead the shot landed squarely on my prosthetic arm. The bullet cleanly ricocheted off the metal and whistled into the distance. He smiled at me “Then you best be ready come high noon…”
He sauntered back into the sheriff’s office as the rifles in the window pulled back. One thought was on my mind, and that thought was he was a goddamn good draw.
I stood in the middle of that muddy street for a good long while before a much thinner man popped out of the sheriff’s office. He was hunched over and wore a greasy smile. I had the feeling most of Brooke’s lackeys looked like that. Kinda fellas who got off on watching people die and pretending to be big shots. He spoke in a weaselly voice as he got close. “Howdy there mister…”
“Jesse Burrows.” I simply replied.
“Mister Burrows.” He cleared his throat. “If you follow me, I’ll bring you to where you’ll be staying for the night before your big duel.” With all that just happened, I was very much so not in the mood to chit chat. I just gave a nod as we began to walk down the muddy road. Seeing as the whole town was tiny, it was just a short way before we made it to a small building. “Make yourself at home and be aware that we have people watchin’ you round the clock. If you get yeller’ and try to make a run for it, we’ll know, and we don’t take kindly to cowards.”
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“Noted…” I said as I entered the building. Despite being their prisoner, they didn’t care to take my guns. A very assured bunch.
Once inside, I realized that I had to be inside an old clothing store. Hats, pants, and a little bit of everything could be found scattered across tables and displays. I began to look around as the door to entrance opened once more. A dumb looking man held Logan by the back of the shirt, and shoved him in. He was missing the sniper rifle, but otherwise had his handgun.
After the door closed, Logan sighed. “Well, this didn’t turn out as expected.”
“You’re telling me.” I said, hoisting myself over the counter and opening the register. Nothing. “I’m one of the least eccentric people in this town.”
Logan walked over “That fact sends shivers down my spine.” Then leaned over the countertop. “The Tap Dancer is still hidden as far as I know. We can escape if we’re careful.”
I shook my head. “I was told we’d have somebody watching us for that. Could be a bluff, but he has enough crazy cowboy role players that I wouldn’t risk it.”
“Alright. Then why were we taken as prisoners in the first place? What did you say to him that let us live?”
“He wanted us to duel.” Was all I said.
The expression on Logan’s face was some mix of distraught and disbelief. “Duel? Like a gunfight duel? Does he think he’s in some dime-novel?”
“With the way he acted, I wouldn’t be shocked if he did. Everything about this guy and his underlings scream ‘inner system men acts like what they think an outer system gang should act’. It’d be comical if our lives weren’t in peril and all.” I went from the counter to the back door. Opening it up, I saw the workers room full of fabric, leatherworking supplies, and sewing needles. Probably enough cushioning to sleep well.
Logan began looking for windows and back exits. “And what? Are you going to try and duel this lunatic? What options do we have if not escape?”
I gazed upon my empire of arts and crafts supplies, and a chaotic plan brewed. “Maybe I will duel him… Maybe I’ll win.”
Although I wasn’t looking at him, I would’ve bet money Logan was pinching the bridge of his nose at that very moment. “What are you going to do; Wear a hundred shirts and hope that catches the bullet?”
When making a plan like the one I just had, it was paramount to not think too much. Too much thinking and you’ll realize how bad an idea it really is. Just enough brain power was the real trick, and I hit the sweet spot as I rushed towards the supplies. “Something much more out of the box, Logan. Go find us some light for after sundown… we’ve got sewing to do.”
I got straight to work as Logan brushed me off and kept looking for exits. Luckily for me, I found a lantern. Unluckily for Logan, he found not one but several sniper posts watching us.
After about an hour passed, and I was deep in my construction phase, Logan sat down on the floor next to me. Defeated, he muttered out “Alright… How can I help.”
I explained to him the plan, and together we made short work of leathercrafting and stitching. We went deep into the night practicing and iterating on our design until we reached something dare I say perfect. Isiah Brooke was about to realize there were no rules in a duel other than ‘be faster than the other guy’.
We got in a little sleep before the sun shone through the windows. It was dead silent in the town up until people were getting ready for the duel.
I guessed that the bastards had to have run out all the real hard-working people that used to work there and turned the whole town into their own fantasy land. The people on Targus needed all the towns they could get, and if I were to kill Isiah Brooke, the others would most likely flee. I’d be helping people regain their homes, or at least that’s what I liked to tell myself before the duel. At the very least, Logan and I would be making enough money to get out of debt.
Logan and I stepped into the street, five minutes until the big duel. Unlike before, I was wearing boots for the mud. That wasn’t my grand plan, but it was nice to set goals and achieve them.
While yesterday it was quiet and still, now there were plenty of unbathed and uncivilized men loitering around, waiting for their favorite pastime to begin.
Brooke came waddling out of the sheriff’s office, wearing an even larger hat than usual along with a shit eating grin. It seemed these little moments are what brought his life joy. If that was the case, I was about to rain on his parade.
The pudgy outlaw spoke out in a fake voice, trying to speak loud for all the men gleefully watching. “Jesse Burrows, are you prepared to die!?”
The men hooted and hollered as I stationed myself in the middle of the street. My hand hovered over the gun on my hip, now firmly saddled in a new holster. “No. Not really. Can’t say I’m intending to die, either.”
He bellowed out in laughter along with his underlings. “Well then, let’s not take longer than we have to. Y’know the rules of a duel?” I simply shrugged. Everybody knew the general rules, but if a misstep was life or death, I’d rather hear them from the man himself. “They’re real simple. Any idiotic could get it.” Brooke chortled, then continued. “You can’t start with your hand on your gun. My man here counts down from three. When he says fire, you fire. Whoever ain’t dead wins.” He pointed to the weaselly henchman I had seen earlier.
“Simple enough.” I spoke back, moving closer to him. Once we were at a good distance, the greasy mediator stood between us and held up his hands. All the men watching held their breath, as did Logan.
“Three!..” He began. I may not have been as quick on the draw as Brooke, but I had a damn good reaction time. Even if that weasel decided to throw me off by counting sporadically, I’d be fine. It was all up to whether my little creation could save me.
“Two!..” He lowered one hand and kept the other raised. I took in a deep breath and looked at my holster one last time. We had spent all night augmenting it, and I hoped it gave me enough to be the first to fire. Brooke had a quickdraw holster, but it still had the deficits a holster usually had. Mine, on the other hand, did something a little more special.
“One!..” My attention snapped back to Brooke. I had to be ready as soon as he said fire, or else it was my head.
The weasel took in a deep breath, then finally shouted out. “FIRE!”
Isiah was still smiling as his hand shot down to the grip of his revolver and began to pull. I reached the grip of mine at a similar pace.
He was clearly going to unholster before I could, but that was why I had no intention of unholstering my gun at all. The leather on my hip wasn’t connected to my belt, but buttoned to my pants, and in one swift motion I jerked on the firearm and the buttons popped. Instead of raising my whole arm up, I simply flicked my wrist into aim and pulled the trigger as many times as I could.
My first shot hit, but that didn’t mean Brooke wasn’t fast as hell. Even as I pelted into his chest, he let off a shot. Luckily for me I had two arms, and one was made of military grade titanium. As I shot with one, I defended with the other. The bullet easily glanced off the metal and flew into the distance, just like the day before. To me, that metal on metal sounded like a victory bell. It took one more shot to put the fat man down for good, but his fate was sealed after the shock of getting hit with the first.
The men all gasped and mumbled to each other. The weaselly one, who had now walked over to Brooke to see if he was still breathing, yelled out to me. “You didn’t draw! You cheated!”
The other men murmured more angrily, that was, until Logan walked over and piped up. “Wrong!” He shouted out, making the audience fall silent. “Brooke said that Jesse couldn’t touch his gun before you said fire, and he didn’t. He said you had to fire after that, and Jesse did. Nothing said he had to unholster, just that he couldn’t hold it beforehand.”
The men around us were silent, and the weaselly one was fuming, but defeated. I myself was mostly just shocked that it actually worked.
Logan stood tall and confident, and I soon followed. As I said before, confidence was key.
One of the men reluctantly exited a nearby building and gave my brother his sniper rifle back as we triumphantly walked to the corpse of our bounty.
We tried to pick him up, but he was far too heavy. A few more failed attempts, and I looked over to the grimacing underling.
“You don’t happen to have a wheelbarrow on-hand, do you?”