Click

“What the hell?” Reck looked at the gun he was holding. He pointed it back at Dusk’s face and tried clicking a few more times. Then he moved the chamber one more notch down and pulled again.

Click. Click

Reck opened the chamber and saw that it was fully loaded with six glass vials. He closed it again and tried another chamber.

“Let me try,” Durkis said, holstering his own gun and prying the spellslinger out of Reck’s hand. He pointed the gun directly at Dusk.

Click, click, click.

“You guys feel a westerly wind?” Dusk asked.

“What’s wrong with this stupid gun?”

“Gotta be as strong as three men I guess,” Dusk looked up at the sky, where the flying creature had been circling, “Zephyr! Right!”

“What?” Reck asked.

Just then, a red blur dove from its position in the sky. It collided with Reck, the man on the right and tossed him backward as the knee-high creature gripped onto his face and began scratching mercilessly.

Durkis turned to look at what had just attacked Reck, giving Dusk an opening. Dusk approached Durkis, grabbing Durkis’ hand and tearing the gun away from him. When Durkis took notice, Dusk slammed his foot down on Durkis’ thigh, causing him to lose balance.

Durkis’s tall body tumbled to the ground. Dusk turned the gun he’d just gotten right at Durkis and pulled the trigger. A stream of flame came out of the gun, throwing fire onto Durkis’ body as he tried to get up.

Durkis hollered in pain as the flames consumed him. The melting flesh far overtaking the strong alcohol scent coming off of Dusk.

“Zephyr, baby. On my shoulder.”

As quickly as the red blur flew onto Reck’s face, she scurried off of him and climbed up Dusk’s leg. Her opposable thumbs gripping onto Dusk’s pant legs and resting safely on his shoulder as he pointed the gun onto Reck’s body. Reck too started crying out as the flames took over him.

Zephyr gurgled and made little raccoon noises as her striped red tail wrapped around Dusk’s neck.

Dusk safely finished off Durkis and Reck. The fire from the gun dribbled to a stop. The two thugs lay on the ground, their corpses still burning. Dusk crouched down and lifted Reck’s duster to nab his other gun, a normal one. Pure copper that only ever spit lead. Reck’s singed hand grabbed Dusk by the collar.

“Help…”

Dusk looked shocked that Reck was still alive, “Tell me where Lyle is. I got a bullet that will help the pain. Quick!”

Reck’s whole body shook. He could not move his neck as it was too singed. He pointed with his finger north by north west, “A cabin next to a swamp. Just outside of town. Gator skin on the door.”

Dusk sighed and pried Reck’s grip from his arm.

“Please…”

“I’m sorry, kin. I don’t have a spell bullet that can help. I promise I woulda used it if I did. I do have a bullet that will take the pain away though,” Dusk and Zephyr on Dusk’s shoulder both looked down at Reck. He pointed his copper gun directly at Reck’s forehead.

The bullet pierced Reck directly in the skull, killing him instantly and putting him out of his misery. Durkis looked good and dead but Dusk did the same thing to him.

Zephyr nibbled at Dusk’s ear as he walked back into town.

“I know it, I know it,” Dusk said, scratching her cheek “I’m lousy at keeping promises.”

Dusk walked the main road on his way out of town, but he had a problem. His head was too clear. He’d stop by the local watering hole and quench this injustice. The bodies of his victims simmered behind him. Townspeople took notice. He walked by, smiling and waving as before, this time they muttered amongst themselves. Dusk walked into the same tavern he had visited last night. The Spitoon. A tiny tavern booked between the post office and a tailor. He opened the door, the bell jingling as he walked in and was met with much of the same faces he had seen last night.

Dusk gave a smile and a tip of his cap. They looked over to him. He sat down at the booth. The bartender was cleaning some glassware, his back turned to Dusk.

“Steve?” Dusk cried out to the bartender “Steven!” The bartender did not turn around.

“Stevie!” Dusk whispered at him. Still, the bartender would not turn around. Dusk leaned over the bar, crossing somebody else’s table space and tugged at the bartender’s shirt.

Steve turned around, “Dusk. Good to.. How are you?”

“Parched, Stevie!” Dusk said, “Would appreciate a whiskey double on the rocks. I’ve got to find my way to Lyle after this.”

Dusk rested back in his seat.

Steve washed the glass until it was completely clean. Nervously rubbing it until it fell out of his hands and onto the ground where it shattered.

“Whoops!” Dusk said, “Party foul. Happy to help clean that up. You got a broom somewhere?”

“That’s okay, Dusk. Stay right there.” Steve said, “I-I got it.”

Steve put the rag he was cleaning with on the bar and rushed to the back. Dusk looked around and noticed that the bar wasn’t its usual lively place but in fact there was a hushed whisper surrounding him. He glanced around and saw people giving little whispers and looks his direction. Only to turn away when he tried to make eye contact with them.

Dusk scratched his peach fuzz, wondering. He stood up, “Everything all right with everyone? Seems to me the tone’s changed. Something I’ve said?”

He looked around. No one stepping up to speak.

The bartender came out with the broom and dustpan. Steve broomed the glass into the dustpan and the crackling noise echoed, permeating the silence.

“Oh hell,” Dusk said, taking his hat off, “I’m not great at people. What could I have done? I know I act the fool when I drink-”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“It’s not that,” Marcy said, “We’d think it best if you went on your way.”

“Marcy,” Dusk said, “Something I said?”

“You didn’t tell us you were a Spell Slinger. Them are a lot different than bounties.”

Dusk nodded his head, “I see. I put you all a bit on edge, don’t I? You’ve heard the scary stories of the men who teach law to the lawless.”

“It puts us all a bit on edge,” Marcy said, “The gossip that got to us says you burned those two men to a crisp after they were going to let you go. Knowing someone could do that and get away with it… makes us nervous.”

Dusk sighed. He had lost the people. Dusk looked around at all of the people he thought had become his friends. He turned and his whiskey shot had been poured for him. He reached out and the bartender flinched.

These people see me as a murderer, Dusk thought. He nodded his head, placed his hat back on and grabbed the drink. His hat covered his eyes as he leaned back to finish the rest of the whiskey.

When he put the glass down on the counter upside down, he had a big smile on his face.

“Sorry I made you all feel so uncomfortable! Never meant to hide anything by you. Just was trying to make an honest living. But I’ll handle Lyle and leave you all alone.”

“So..” Marcy started, “You’ll still finish off Lyle?”

Dusk dug into his pocket looking for change.

“Course! Once I get the bastard and get me paid, I’ll come back and square up with you. I promise,” Dusk reassured Steve, nodding his head reassuringly.

“No trouble, Dusk,” Steve said, “You just finish off Lyle and we’ll call it even.”

That was it. Dusk had to prove himself. Killing off Lyle wouldn’t just give him the money he needed, it would make the townsfolk feel more comfortable.

“He’s surly with ya?” Dusk said.

Bartender laughed nervously, “Well, he’s a lousy tipper. Never pays for his drinks,”

“He’s a bully. He terrorizes anyone in the neighborhood when he stops into town.“ Marcy said, “You’ll get him?”

“I’ll get him,” Dusk stopped searching his pockets. He definitely had no money, “Sure as anything I’ll get him. Then I’ll buy us all drinks again! Another bar tab, how about that?”

Marcy let out a little smile. Dusk turned and saw the bartender was nodding nervously as well. Someone from the crowd yelled out, “Get’em, Dusk!”

The crowd broke out into hoots and cheers for Dusk to finally slay Lyle. Dusk spun his gun around and headed out.

Dusk walked along the patch way out to the soggy swamp at the edge of town. He had Zephyr on his shoulder as usual. He stopped by a large oak tree and let Zephyr off. The winged raccoon looked at Dusk, patiently awaiting his order.

“Climb up. Perch out. If you see me come out swinging, come in to help. Savvy?”

Zephyr let out a sound that implied she understood and scurried up the trunk of the tree.

Dusk approached the swamp. He saw the house with the gator skin stuck to the door. It was a swamp cabin high on stilts to stay off the rising water.

Dusk crossed the bridge connected to the river. He looked down at the water. There were logs and there were gators that looked suspiciously like logs. Alligators driftedon passive alert down the river. Some staying perfectly steady, like dangerous statues.

Dusk approached the door, “Lyle?” Dusk called out, “The name’s Dusk. I’m here for-”

A chalky voice bellowed through the door, “I know why you’re here. Murderer,”

“Okay. I’m coming in,” Dusk placed his hand on his chest holster and slowly opened the door. He peeked inside.

Sure enough there were hree thugs as well as Lyle in the middle. Dusk couldn’t miss him. While the rest of the folk in the cabin were human, Lyle was clearing 6’5”. His gray-green scales bristling in the torch light. His back was turned to Dusk’s.

Dusk scanned the premises, his hand still on the gun, “Lyle ‘Crocodile’ Childers. Hey, fellas. Looks like quite the party.”

“Just tell me they’re okay.” Lyle said, still not facing Dusk.

Dusk saw that all of the gangsters had a somber face cast by torchlight.

“How’d you find out,” Dusk asked.

Lyle’s clawed hand scraped the wooden desk he was standing in front of, “One of the women saw. The women told my men and my men told me. You handled Durkis and Reck. I understand it was self-defense, but tell me they’re okay.”

“Uhhhh,” Dusk let out a soft groan, “Well, that’s the unfortunate thing. I can’t say they’re okay. I can say they’re not okay pretty safely. But a more accurate statement would be this: They’re dead.”

One of the men let out a gasp, trying to hold it all in. Lyle scraped his claws against the desk, the sharp sound grading on Dusk’s ears.

“You killed two of my best and my brightest. All over one thousand measly tin.”

“Well… I’d like to think it was self-defense. Like you said,” Dusk said.

“It was self defense to burn them to a crisp? Or that was just… business.”

“Both I guess. I’m sorry but were those men really your best and brightest?’

“You hear that, boys?” Lyle turned, his long gator-like snout turning with him as he finally locked eyes with Dusk. “He wants to kill our boys and mock them too.”

“No!” Dusk said, “It’s not that. Not that at all! I just mean… well, I’m not sure what I meant.”

“Tell me something, boy! When you joined the force, did you think you’d be gunning down innocents?”

“I wouldn’t say they were innocents.”

“But theoretically…”

“I think we’re getting off topic,” Dusk said. What does any of that have to do with bringing you in.”

“He’s talking about bringing you in, boss,” One of the men said, “Kills your blood brothers and then brings you in.”

“You three were…” Dusk took a look at Lyle’s crocodilian appearance, “... related?”

Lyle scoffed, “What’s that supposed to mean? Ain’t you ever had someone close as kin?”

“That’s… not important,” Dusk said, “Look, I don’t mean to ruin the pity party but I’m here to take in the leader of the crocodile gang.”

Lyle looked at Dusk, offended, “If you think I plan to live a life of crime after how badly it went for my two brothers. Men I, frankly, considered father figures, then you’re all turned around. There ain’t no place for me in this life, friend. I’m turning myself in tomorrow.”

“I… Okay, well maybe you could let me come with you to collect the bounty.”

“No need. I’ll let the widows of Durkis and Reck drop me off. It’s the least we can do for them. Don't’ you think? Considering everything we’ve put them through?

The crocodile’s wet eyes matured to full blown tears. His leaky eyes dripping all over the cabinet. His men were the same, the whole lot were crying their eyes out over their fallen friends. They had their head in their hands and they were sneezing into their sleeves.

Dusk was reeling. It seemed that he was not going to get his money. Dusk could not argue that the money would be better spent in the hands of the widows of his victims.

“It’ll definitely go to the wives then?” Dusk asked, keeping his hand on his pistol, trying to put on a voice that meant business.

“Look at these tears!” Lyle said, grabbing at his own face. The salty droplets taking a long trek off the crocodile’s snout and falling off, “You telling me I’d lie? Standing here like this, baring my soul?!”

Dusk looked at all of them. They really did look like a sorry lot. Dusk sighed, “Okay. Turn yourself in tomorrow. Make sure Mrs. Durkis and Mrs. Reck are there. I guess… my work here is done. Have a good day.”

“Bless you, friend,” The crocodile said, “now i'm crying tears of happiness,” His eyes welling with a new batch of fresh tears.

Dusk said, “I best be going,”

“Maybe you’d like to stay here? Cry more with us?”

“No… no I think I’ll be on my way to find some criminals who aren’t so immediately reformed…”

“Good day to you, then. Have a great life! Maybe when I’ve done my time, We can all go out for lunch! You, me, and Mrs. Durkis, and Mrs Reck!”

Dusk nodded and said, “That sounds nice enough, I guess,” Then he walked out, not really clear how they would plan a lunch if they didn’t exchange any info. He stepped outside, closing the door behind him. He stared out into the swamp, gazing at the alligators.

“What the fuck was that?” Dusk pulled the flier he’d gotten from his contact in a nearby city. It was rolled up pretty tightly when he took it. He’d heard a little about Lyle Childers but figured the flier could tell him more. Dusk fully unfurled the flier and saw Lyle’s full alias.

Lyle “Crocodile Tears” Childers.

Reward: 1 Thousand Tin.

Dead or Alive

Dusk turned around and kicked the crocodile pelt on the door. The door fell off its rusted hinges and revealed an empty cabin with an open window, where the scaly crocodile tail of Lyle Childers slipped out in an escape attempt.