Silver barrels were overshadowed by dirty, twitchy fingers. The two men stared each other down in the town of Nimblenatch, shaky breaths leaving them. One had the scent of alcohol, even at day break. The townsfolk woke up to shouting. It did something for the town, broke the boredom of it. Edgar hid behind a random home, ready for metal to fly.

The two men drew their guns and fired. Blood exploded from each other’s bodies, making them stumble back. The man on the right sunk into the ground with his gun up, The man on the left clutched his dripping wound. They both shot again, both went limp. Edgar ran to the layed bodies, sliding on his knees two seconds later.

The Sheriff with his short coat, a damaged star badge shone in Edgar Poe’s peripherals. He had came strutting out his office with spurred boots with a twisted face:

“Serpent! Get away from that body NOW. Stop looting a recently dead man!” He spat.

“I’m trying to save his life with my products, Mackie.” Edgar replied

“Then stop using your poison to defile corpses!”

The snake oil seller continued but the lawman ,who casted a shadow over him, kicked his side. Poe’s shirt was pulled; punches sunk into his nose. Another punch came which darkened his eyes. Mackie’s finger shook, cracked. The seller pushed the attacker’s body, breaking away with his clothes ripped. Edgar ran back to the house, looking back in fear.

Such a scummy, miserable town. He roamed a bit away from the town finding a chariot.

It had a missing wheel, broken glass and a roof you could use as a second door. It was all held together by bricks along with nails. Better than the town’s houses.

Home sweet home.

He opened his door, looking for his case of vials. He found one so he dabbed the liquid across his face. It stung for a couple of minutes but it made the pain numb for a bit. He grabbed a blanket to cover his sweating head, Arizona heat was deadly. He grabbed his banjo and sung his only solace:

It’s a good day to be a friend

It’s a good day to be a friend

I’m sure no one’s gonna be here when I end

But it’s a good long day to be a friend

His voice was raspy and not at a good pitch. With the blood in his mouth it was worse. He played again until a man with a little rotundness knocked on his door: Mayor Braxton.

“Greetings, dear Edgar. We need to talk.” said the mayor who pulled his suit to look more professional.

“If it was for the “pocketing” thing, I was trying to help him-” Edgar was interrupted.

“That’s not what the Sheriff said.” Bias was heavy in his tone.

Then fuck Sheriff Mackie. Fuck the blood that was on his boots too. Edgar thought.

“We must also discuss your future here.”

Edgar Poe followed his boss and technical landlord to his office, taking his dagger with him.

*

It was still night, as Sammy knew it. It was hard when you were in a coffin with your only peephole being a carved crucifix. The coffin had been on an open carriage, a bit longer than the back side. A bounty hunter with a 6 shooter watched the coffin, antsy. He’d die before getting hanged if they didnt get him a bigger box!

Sammy Reiz scratched his finger against the wood in front of him. His finger turned orange, making the wood blacken. The bounty hunter coughed from smoke, kicking the sides furiously. Sammy cursed at the bounty hunter’s sick smile. He kicked it again which made the cramps more agonizing. Reiz’s orange eyes poked through the hole.

“Couldn’t y’all just put cuffs on me?” Sammy spoke with a British-Southern American accent. “It’s an iron maiden in here! My legs ache, my belt is tugging at some unspeakable areas plus I haven't eaten-”

The man that was coughing kicked the wooden prison once more. That time the rider had a red face, starting to yell.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP.” They both said.

“That’s not very nice, you hurt my feelings!” Sammy pouted like a child but yawned. “I’ve entertained this poor man’s bounty hunter for long enough.”

The coffin creaked, groaning with newly growing branches. Sparks birthed from the vessel, making the bounty hunter point his gun at the hole. Whatever witchcraft or devilry he had pulled should not be taken lightly. The man above shot but the bullet stopped inches away. It spun back into the shooter’s ribs, blasting him back into the mud below.

Sammy rose from the sparks to grab his gear in a flash, His twin girls: Song and Symphony were back into his revolver holsters. He then shoved his shamsir, Silence, into his pants. No missing sheath wouldn't stop him from carrying his joy. The rider pulled a small gun of his own but the former captive floated the burning wood, sending it crashing into the rider. He fell over so it caused the horse to neigh as it lifted its front hooves up. Sammy, in his usual fashion, took the dead man’s jacket.

Sammy’s orange eyes had glowed brighter than the moonlight which threw fear in the horseman.

“Hey, hey! Woah, woah,I was just doin’ my job. Ain’t nothing personal, promise!” The horseman pleaded.

“Normally, I’d put a bullet in your throat but I’m feeling merciful, Misteeeer?” Sammy’s eyes went back to their normal, non glowing orange.

“Mackie. Langston Leofstan Mackie.”

“Alright, Langston. You’re going to take me to the town I was supposed to be delivered to. Tell them we are friends and nothing’s gonna happen, understood?”

“Understood”

“Perfect!” he clapped. “Onward to…?”

“Nimblenatch.”

**

The office was bigger than one would expect. Having mounted heads of multiple animals along with a myriad of articles spread around. There was a broken whip near the fireplace. The Mayor offered him a cigar when the seller at infront of his desk. Edgar declined the town’s leader but took a glass of water.

“I’m gonna be frank with you: No one trusts you. Not the Mackie brothers, most of the town; me as well somewhat. Everyone has been interested in you ever since you've been here. Especially your former connections, Snake.” The Mayor looked at the tattoo on Edgar’s arm.

It had the initials “L.U” for Lady Uroborus. Mother as he called her but he shouldn’t think about that now. Or his name which he should've abandoned.

“Braxton, if I may call you that,” He breathed out a yawn. “You’ve been enjoying the 5 years, 5 months and 13 seconds I’ve been here, right? I offer protection, my medicine!"

“The town is sick of the medicine, they call it poison.” Mayor Braxton interrupts.

“Works charms for me, the Sheriff’s beauty mark healed up just nicely. The townsfolk don’t NEED to know me, they just need to know I can protect them from the heathens that walk this country.”

Braxton rose up with a cigar which he lit with a match, walking to his open window. He saw a single makeshift grace with a crucifix made out of a stick including a bandana.

Braxton puffed out smoke, “Do you know how this town was formed?”

“No but I feel like you’re gonna tell it to me…extensively.”

Braxton let out a short, happy groan following a open smile:

“My grandfather was a thief named Doyle “Nimble Heel” Natch. Stole from trains, horses, even the government. Grandfather had amassed riches but was always hunted. He felt bad for everything he did after. What my father told me…it was unspeakable. But my grandfather changed. Used everything, though some bribery, to make this town. Bleed, cried for it, held a steady job as a horseman until he passed. That man was someone who turned their life around, doing what was right, opened his heart. Can you do the same with us…Edgar?”

There was a pause, a long pause. Poe leaned back in his seat, staying blank. He didn't have to be himself to anyone. To the Sheriff, to the townsfolk. He buried his past with multiple bullets in his former allies. All THEY needed to know was he was helping them. Nothing more and nothing less.

“I disagree.” Edgar began to walk to the door.

A loud “WOOHOO” was heard outside along with horses trotting along the town's entrance. The two ran outside, spotting a small army. Most of them were dirty with the exception of the leader. He had a lantern or lamp on his belt, hanging tightly by a rope on the loop. The two walked over with their hands up in a peaceful manner.

“You the leader?” Braxton asked after looking at Sheriff Mackie who retreated to his station.

A coward in the end, shivering in his bloody boots. Edgar thought at the back of his mind.

The stranger spat out a piece of tobacco on the sand, “No, he’s away right now. Well, it depends on which one....” he zoned out but a member to his left gave him a sack. “OH, yeah, yeah. We’re raiding ya town, we can do this the easy way or the hard way or whatever.”

Were they getting robbed by a shroomed up gangster? The seller decided to show his tattoo to the scoundrel and most of them except the not-leader were shocked.

“This town is protected by the Great Snake. This is our territory.” A fool proof lie.

Heh…Silas would’ve been proud of him for establishing himself.

“I…can’t read.” The stranger squinted.

“Oh for Pete’s sake.” whispered Braxton.

One of the other members, a female with sand colored clothes sighed, “It means if we even touch him, his people would have our guts sprawled throughout America. You know, the gang that fought Sidney the Stark, might I add, that they nearly won? Can’t be that dumb, Sticky.”

“Oh..” Sticky’s sweat ran cold before he gulped, wincing from the taste. “Say, you don’t have to mention this to her or nothin’, we’re all friends, right?

“Friends leave when told to.” Braxton perked up.

Sticky whistled, the gang making a clearance with their horses. They left in a hurry but the female stayed for a few seconds, looking at Edgar. He swore he saw her eyes flash a yellow hue, straying away from her gang a bit.

High Hell.

“I’ll take that cigar now.”

***

Sammy had slept in the trunk with his arms at the back of his head. He missed his hat but the sun was a good morning alarm. Another was someone pointing a gun at Langston. A rifle, yelling for whatever he was carrying. Sammy wasn't gonna get home at this rate! He got up, locking eyes with her. She pointed the firearm at the orange eyed outlaw.

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

“Well it’s not everyday I get robbed! Such a pleasant experience.” Sammy smiled before pulling his finger from his scalp. His face turned serious, lifting his finger.

Her gun shook, a large bang went off but the muzzle went away from them. It was then forced under her chin where it burned slightly. His eyes popped in interest as he saw her canteen, snatching it like a thieving child. He opened it slowly then drank half of the contents. It tasted heavenly but the bitterness made him stop before giving it back.

“Refreshing,” it radiated a thankful tone. “I don’t think either of us need to die today. You probably have a family or loved ones. I could clearly blow your brains back to the moon but I’ll be generous. Pick a number between one and five.”

“Th-three.” She had anger, worry or bewilderment.

“Three. Three years will be shoved off of your lifespan so we can stroll from each other’s fates…deal?” Sammy held out a hand to shake.

She grasped it while a small light had erupted from their fingertips. Everyone had different reactions to the process. Langston looked at him like he was crazy. Another from his past had freaked out,nearly jumping into the sea. Another had nearly shoved him off a cliff.

“I feel like three thousand bucks!” He gets back in the transport with a jump. “May you have a wondrous life or not, I don’t care. Let’s go, Langston!”

The two rode into town, parking into the nearest stable. Reiz went to a saloon, ordering two glasses of milk. He drank them then asked the bartender where he could get a paper as well as a pen. Surprisingly, the man had it with dipping ink to boot. He wrote a very professional letter:

Dear Red Leaf,

It’s your humble, lovely boss. I got into some trouble with some headhunters in the east. I killed one but I let the other live. Mercy is a rarity for me so you should be grateful. I need you to come get me since I’m limited on money. Trains or horses go over my budget so that’s dead. After you get me, we’ll discuss our next state of business. I’m in a town called Nimblenatch, in Arizona. Do not fail me.

XOXO Sincerely

Samarinder M. Reizvoll

P.S I got a new jacket!

Sammy walked over to the post office, paid for his mail to be put in the mail bag. It made his pockets lighter but it was worth it. New York was a far place from Arizona so it would be awhile before Leaf would come. Maybe he could get a job or a friend he could help. Sammy noticed his wanted poster which he tore down and burned. He then noticed a guy selling vials to a family.

Fond memories.

The outlaw waited until he had served his customer with his sick son. He walked over to the seller after Langston hugged another person, Reiz scratched his chin.

“Hello…sir,” Edgar stopped his introduction. “Your eyes…”

“Orange, I know, an infection from the Civil War. Cannon shrapnel went off near my eyes…it mixed in with the blood.”

“That’s very, very peculiar,” a hint of doubt escaped him but he didn’t have adequate medical knowledge. “Need something for it? I have many remedies.”

“No, no, I’ve tried everything but I am feeling stiff, got anything for that?”

The seller pulled out a vial which Sammy paid for, telling each other their names.

The recent buyer noticed a banjo in the corner of the makeshift house.

“You play?”

“It’s not there for decoration. I try to write my own stuff but not any finished songs.”

“I’d love to hear you serenade me with a tune of criminals and justice.” Reiz said with a sarcastic, posh voice. Edgar chuckled.

“After work, come back at sun down, I’ll play you a tune.”

They shook on it with the two  exchanging names. After that, the outlaw explored the new town. It was relatively boring until he got to the library. There he read The Count of Monte Cristo. Something that could be revered as a classic. He read it under a tree's shade, waiting for sundown.

****

It was nearly night when Edgar closed shop but the stranger wasn't there. He collected fire wood from dead branches. He tried to use a match accompanied with some alcohol to light it but it was not a good fire-

“Hey Edgar.” a voice cut through the darkness.

“AH!” yelled the banjo player at a high pitch.

“Woah! Scared me half to death.”

Sammy realized the singer's actions cut down a branch with his sword, chopping it into thick pieces. Placing it in the fire, it was slow but got hotter with Edgar’s alcohol. They sat next to each other, chugging on the fire beer. Edgar admired the weapon, its unique design.

.

“A curved sword? Never seen like that in these parts.”

“Native to the eastern countries. I requested it after reflecting on the Holy Wars. Those were the days, I tell you.” Sammy said with nostalgia.

“The Holy Wars? You mean the Crusades? Wasn't that like hundreds of years ago?”

“Felt shorter for me but after a few centuries, you get cloudy in the head.”

“Wh-what the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“Eat your vegetables, it’ll save you. But enough of my old man ramblings, let’s hear that song of yours!”

Sammy had gotten hyper. The banjo had been ready for a bit before Edgar sang:

It’s a good day to be a friend

It’s a good day to be a friend

I’m sure no one’s gonna be here when I end

But it’s a good long day to be a friend

It kept playing but the lyrics stopped.

Sammy perked up, “That’s it?”

“That’s it unless you have something to add?”

“Yeah, I got something brewing but play the tune a little faster.”

He did as he was asked as Sammy tapped his foot, pulling a decent singing voice:

t’s a good long day to be a friend

Long over the shadow of the day’s end

I watch my enemies groan, bend

Had a paper in my pocket and I gotta send

One foot out, one foot in

Brandy in my cup

With some ice cold sin

Love in my heart so the

bird’s gonna caw.

I’m not a cowboy, baby

I’m a dangerous outlaw!

Edgar really liked it so he tried to match the second part:

My heart knew a girl up in Washington

Trust me ,Sammy, she had some sin

Left my stomach covered in blood

A bounty hunter left that bitch in mud

Then god smiled through my muck

Left a blessing, had me thunderstruck

I was given redemption by this town

In return, I’ll take any threat down

They go back and forth, Sammy then Edgar, repeating:

Traveled from England to Rome

Shot a guy when he was raiding my home

Knight on earth, came from salvagers

Bastard from birth, worked with ravagers 

The duo sang into the night with improvised, personal words. They sang without care until they had their eyes shut. It was morning once more, Sammy nudged his new friend about more papers, deals. Edgar went back to sleep until a kick was introduced to him, causing a black and white flash. A boot bruised his eyes, paled in comparison from the dog which chewed at his head.

“You poisoned my son, you sick fuck!” The father spat at him.

Edgar slashed at the man, crawled away until he was gone from view. He tried to help everyone. Save them from bandits and gangsters! Tried to heal them when they were sick but NO, no one is appreciative of his help. This town was the only thing he could live where he could bury his past. Lies they all told!

He looked at the train tracks, walking over them. Only one thing to do…

*****

Sammy had come back from another milk drink before he saw his new friend scuttering away. The father from yesterday with a bloody foot. He gripped his sword but Sheriff Mackie scowled at him.

“I’m not gonna do nothin’.” He totally was gonna do something.

He ran, trying to find Edgar with a pen and paper. His friend was crying, walking down the train tracks. He tried to grab him but Edgar sunk to the ground…

“I HAVE NO POWER! Everything I’ve done to be a better person but I can’t do anything!”

Sammy lifted him up with his levitation magic, Edgar was freaking out, of course. Reiz let him down, the seller looked at him crazily.

“What type of witchcraft…” Edgar was befuddled.

“I can give you the power that you need. Far above anything any human can imagine! I can give you the power to take whatever you need. I know how it is to feel powerless, broken but allow me to make you whole.”

The seller wiped away his tears, Sammy writing down certain things for the deal to commence:

“I shall give you two of my powers, levitation added with the ability for plants to grow quicker. All you have to give me is a couple years off your lifespan. Even if most of the paper burns, it still works with a sliver. It can also be torn but direct you to the other pieces. All you have to do is sign here.” Sammy gave him a paper with all the details with a line at the bottom.

Edgar quickly wrote his name. The paper glowed, their hands exchanging light. Edgar had felt..lighter but he used his new abilities to lift up sand beneath them. The former seller laughed and clapped. Happiness had covered his face but it grew…emotionless.

A dagger shot into Sammy’s stomach, the hilt nearly inside his ribs.

The outlaw fell over in shock. Sweat started to form, his eyes grew from the burning. Blood spurted from his mouth. What had Edgar done?! He had a song with him! A good song! What the fuck, had he been a fool all this time?

The newly made magic man had run off. Sammy’s face turned to pain, then hate. He crawled over to the town, leaving a bloody trail.

“I’m gonna….I’m gonna kill that bastard if it’s the last thing I do!” He screamed.