Thomas returned to Lonechapel as the sun dipped behind the horizon. He entered onto the cobbled road from the main gate of the town. The once lively town was now quiet and empty. There was maybe two or three people out on the streets besides Thomas. He could easily hear the bumping music from the Black Magic Saloon down the street.
Thomas made his way towards the saloon, the music getting louder as he did. Thomas could hear the hoots, the laughs, the yells of the people inside the saloon. He stood across the street from the saloon, where he had last stood with Osman and Sal’é earlier that day. Thomas sparked a cigarette as the glow from within the saloon danced from out the windows onto the street before it.
As Thomas made his way into the saloon, a sharp memory prodded his brain.
A Lawman’s best tool is information gathering, where better to do that than at a saloon where everyone is getting drunk. The words of Brassus on the island rang out in Thomas’ head as he approached the saloon. He tossed his cigarette into the sand before the steps to the saloon. He walked up the creaking wooden steps to the small wooden porch of the saloon. He walked up to the two swinging doors of the saloon, as the roaring music filled his ears. Thomas slowly pushed them open as he entered the saloon, making sure not to draw attention to his entry.
He glanced around the small saloon as the small doors swung closed behind him. Opposite the swinging doors, across the room was the bar. Between the bar and the doors were a series of loosely aligned card tables and pool tables all covered with half full or empty glasses of booze. Men covered the tables, playing cards or pool, as women in high rise skirts paraded around serving more alcohol. In the left corner of the saloon, was the restroom, a sign marking which door was which, though the long line of men waiting outside of one door tells the same. On the other side of the bar was a small dart board fixed on the wall, a few men stood around the corner of the bar throwing darts at it. Thomas made his way towards the empty bar as men sitting at the tables began to take notice of him. Above the bar was a small live band, their music filling up the small saloon.
Regular folk fill the tables, good luck finding one once you’re in that gray jacket. You gotta be invited to sit down. No one, not even a straight arrowed farmer, wants to play a game of cards with a Lawman. Brassus’ words again rang out in Thomas’ head as he passed the last table before the bar.
A young red headed woman stood across the bar from Thomas as he sat down at one of the red leather stools. She wore a tight white blouse, exposing her busty cleavage as she leaned down on the bar in front of Thomas.
“Hey there Lawman, hope I’m not in any trouble,” she mewed seductively as she winked at Thomas. Thomas blushed and pulled back from the bar, making the bartender laugh. She pushed off the bar and extended her hand out to Thomas.
“I’m Sally,” she said happily. Thomas reached his hand over the bar and shook her hand.
“Thomas,” he replied as they both pulled their hands back to themselves.
“What brings you to Lonechapel?” She asked as a man in a tight business suit approached next to Thomas.
“Two Lights,” he said as he placed down three copper coins on the bar, each with a hole in the middle. Sally spun around and reached into a small icebox before removing two glass bottles of beer. The light orange liquid frothed up into a white foam as Sally popped the bottle caps off. She placed the two beers down in front of the man who grabbed one in each hand and left the bar. Thomas, out of the corner of his eye, watched as the man walked back to a small table near the bar and sat across from another man in an expensive suit. He turned back to notice Sally, watching him closely.
“They come in here often?” he asked her softly. She smiled before laughing quietly, holding her hand over her mouth to cover her laugh.
“Lonechapel is tiny, everyone comes in here often,” she said back to Thomas. She removed another beer from the bar and popped the cap off before placing it in front of Thomas.
“If you’re gonna wring me out for information, at least buy some drinks.” She sarcastically said as Thomas gripped the cold beer. He fumbled around in his pocket looking for the bag of coins Osman had given him when they first met. He removed a single copper coin, with a hole in the middle, and set it on the table. Sally stared back at him before pointing to a sign behind the bar.
NO TIPS NO SERVICE
Thomas begrudgingly reached back into the sack of coins and removed one more copper coin and handed it to Sally. She smiled and spun around, placing those and the other three copper coins into a small pouch behind the bar.
“So, what are you looking for?” she asked as she leaned over the bar in front of Thomas once again. Thomas took a swig of the cold beer, it easily passed down his throat, before setting it back on the bar.
“The Qamrani, what do you know about them?” He asked back, struggling to speak over the band as they started a new song.
“The natives? Not much, I hear some plague is killing them off fast though.” She replied over the music.
“Yea some plague,” Thomas replied as he grabbed his beer and stood up from the bar. He turned around and leaned back up against it, looking back out into the filled saloon. Thomas’ eyes quickly found the two suited men, they stood out in a crowd of farmers and blue collar workers.
All the other men in the saloon were covered in some kind of dirt, or oil, something that showed their working class. These two sported illustrious suits, untouched by the day’s work, and matching ties. One man had short dark slicked back hair, and a pair of round glasses that perched upon his long nose. His face was clean shaven, except for the small bushy mustache covering his upper lip. He was a stocky short man, barely fitting between his chair and the table. The other man, the man who had bought the drinks, was a tall pole of man. He too had slicked back hair; it was dark from the oil holding it in place but was light itself. He had a pair of long mutton chops that extended from his ears down to just under his lips.
The two men sat across from one another at a small round table. They were far from everyone else in the bar. At the small table, they puffed on cigars and sipped their beers. Thomas could see the two men talking profusely to one another. Laughing and then sipping, yammering on, puffing, then laughing again. Thomas slowly walked his way towards the bathroom, rounding the corner of the bar and heading down the small hallway.
As he stood in line to the men’s room, he struggled to pick up what the two men were talking about. He could hear a few words here and there, but nothing stuck out. The man in front of Thomas was swaying around drunkenly hiccupping and bumping into Thomas here and there.
“Wash it… Law Hglgh man” the man drunkenly slurred, his hiccups stopping his sways. Thomas nodded and stepped back from the man, now leaning on the corner of the bar. He turned towards the bar as he sat down on a stool at the corner. Sally noticed him sitting and gave him a smile as more men approached the bar ordering drinks. Thomas leaned back as he heard the two men speaking.
“Have you seen his wife?” The stocky man asked haughtily.
“Yea, I heard that tramp jumped every man in Buhaville before getting ran out here,” the lanky man replied poshly.
“Hale parades that woman around like she’s a queen,”
“She’s only after him for the money, it’s a shame. The businessman he is, and he can’t see that,”
Thomas sipped on his beer as he listened to the two men talk.
“Not many men can take a failing business and turn it around tenfold,” the lanky man said as he puffed on his cigar.
“That’s the Hale’s for you, I hear they’re of nobility from Saint Pieysfilrois, it’s customary for them to be on top,” The stocky man proudly said.
“Saint Pieysfilrois? Those damn dirty traitors? No wonder Hale is such a backstabber. If the deal, he had originally offered me had gone through I’d be sitting on double the land I am now.” The lanky man profusely replied. He finished his beer and set it on the table. The stocky man finished his beer.
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“Well now Mr. Ramsey let’s get going before you get too worked up,” the stocky man said as he stood up from his seat. Mr. Ramsey stood up as well, slowly pushing his chair under the table after he did. The two men slowly began to walk towards the two swinging doors. Thomas downed the rest of his beer before setting it back on the bar. He too stood up and waited for the men to reach the doors before he began his walk after them.
He slowly made his way out of the saloon, back out into the cold night air. He stood on the wooden porch of the saloon as he gleaned the surrounding area for the two men. He could hear the echoes of their voices as they walked away. Thomas moved after them, crossing the street and making his way towards a small alleyway.
Thomas made his way down the alleyway, walking over trashcans and bottles, hearing the men’s voices more clearly as he did. He saw them through another alleyway as they walked the street parallel to the alley Thomas was in.
Thomas kept following the men, he eventually sped up past them and then crept down an alleyway leading to the street they were on. As the men approached the alleyway, Thomas stepped out in front of them and put his hands up.
“Stop,” was all Thomas could say before the two men spun on their heels and began drunkenly running back down the street. Thomas began to run after them, quickly igniting his arms. He held his arms out in front of him, low to the ground. The black flames seeped out onto the street and raced after the men. The fire quickly caught up to them and encased the men, barring their heads. The men fell to the ground as Thomas slowly walked towards the men, retracting the fire as he did.
“Let’s try that again,” he laughed as he stopped before the men. He helped them sit up and leaned the two against a wall of the nearby building. The streetlamp overhead illuminated the three of them. The stocky man leaned over as he sat and hurled onto the street. He turned back to face Thomas as Mr. Ramsey looked up drunkenly to face him as well.
“Who are you two?” Thomas asked as he hunched down in front of the men. The stocky man slowly lifted his hands before opening his mouth.
“I’m Mr. Bennet, and this is Mr. Ramsey, we are local business owners.” He drunkenly said, his words slurring as he did.
“What kind of business?” Thomas asked.
“Oil,” Mr. Ramsey quickly replied. Thomas turned to him, remembering the oil fields he passed on his way to Fajridan’s village.
“What do you know about the Qamrani?” Thomas angrily asked. The two men went white with fear. They looked at one another before glancing back at Thomas. Thomas ignited his arms once more with the black flames.
“We didn’t kill them,” Mr. Bennet cried out. Tears began to pour out his eyes as he sat there.
“Please we’re telling the truth,” Mr. Ramsey pleaded as he too began to cry.
“My business is legal, Hale sold me the land he’s the one you want,” Mr. Bennet sobbed.
“Mine too,” Mr. Ramsey quickly interjected.
“Who’s Hale?” Thomas asked the crying men. The men had quickly become blubbering messes, their faces wet with tears and snot.
“Nathaniel Hale, he owns the Hale Land Company. Biggest company in Qamran,” Mr. Ramsey cried.
“He was appointed the Head of Land Distribution a few months before the natives started dying,” Mr. Bennet said as snot dribbled from his nose.
“Where can I find him?” Thomas asked sternly. The two men quickly pointed towards the large manor at the west end of the town. Thomas nodded and stood up, retracting his flames.
“Good night gentlemen,” Thomas said kindly before he began walking towards the large manor.
The cold air of the night clung to Thomas’ warm skin. The arid days were accompanied by humid nights. The hot desert would become frigid after the sun went down, creating a small dew that hung close to the ground. Fog was commonplace as well at night, it hung just above the tops of the streetlamps Thomas walked under. Thomas slowly rounded a corner back to the cobbled street, then made another turn. He could now clearly see the large wooden manor at the end of the cobbled street.
Thomas slowly made his way towards the illuminated manor, its windows glowing amber. As he got further down the street, the fog slowly began to set down. Thomas entered the thick haze, using the glowing amber windows as a guide. The booming music at the saloon was all but a faint whisper now as the fog lifted once more to reveal a gated courtyard before the manor.
Thomas could see a small group of men sat on the other side of the thin metal fence. He approached the large gate at the front of the courtyard. It had an intricately made steel ‘H’ on the handles that split in half as the gates were opened. Thomas saw four men; each barely awake on the porch surrounding a small table. There were empty beer bottles strewn about between the men. None of the men seemed to notice Thomas as they played a game of cards on the small table, each of them barely able to hold their heads up.
Thomas tried to quietly push the large metal gates open, but they screeched as they dragged across the cobblestone beneath them. The men quickly sprang up as the screech began.
“Hey! Stop!” one of the men shouted as Thomas slinked through the small opening in the gates. The men began to drunkenly attempt to unholster their pistols, but Thomas sprinted through the courtyard and up onto the porch.
Thomas’ shoulder found the first man’s chest as he barreled past the man. Another man, finally having removed his pistol, held it up to shoot Thomas. His arm swayed as he tried to aim at Thomas who was rushing towards him. The other men too began to remove their sidearms. Thomas quickly ignited his arm into flames, the black flames bursting from his skin. He reached out towards the man, who was quickly frozen in fear. The black flames sprang forth from Thomas’ hand slamming the man into the wall of the manor. He cried out in pain as the fire burned his chest.
For a moment, Thomas saw the faces of those Calamity had killed so effortlessly. He stopped burning the man, as another man shot his gun at Thomas. Like before, Thomas did not even react to the bullet, yet his fire still instinctively came on in the spot the bullet was sure to hit. The men stood there astonished as Thomas retracted the flames from the man on the wall back to his fiery arm.
Thomas spun and waved his blazing arm at the remaining two men, the fire seeping out like a wave. The wave of fire knocked the men back into the wooden ledge of the porch, both of them falling over and onto the stony courtyard beneath it.
Thomas turned back towards the door, to notice the man he had shoulder checked, slowly crawling down the stairs. Thomas left the man as he walked up to the front door the manor. The black wooden door had another intricately carved ‘H’ in the center surrounded by a series of carvings of a beautiful forest. An eagle perched upon a tree sat in the top right corner of the door, easily the most defined piece on the door. It looked as if the eagle almost looked out beyond the door right at whoever stood before it.
Thomas took a small breath before using all his might and rearing his right leg up. He slammed his leg into the large wooden door, immediately sending a shockwave of jolts through his leg. The door sat unaffected as Thomas hopped around on one foot as his leg throbbed with pins and needles. Thomas slowly set his foot back down on the wooden porch, before resting his weight on it again.
He raised his hands to the door, ignited them, and placed them on the door. Thomas slowly spread his fire across only the door, making sure to feel for the edges with his flames. The small flames flickered and flicked as they slowly burned the door, like the tongues of snakes.
Thomas slowly retracted his flames as the door was now a deep ashen black. Thomas again raised his right leg and then kicked the door, this time it crumbled down to a pile of ash as he did. Thomas slowly entered the large manor to see an open foyer that led to multiple hallways. Thomas walked around the house, first he noticed they had a small record player that was looping. The house was in visible disarray. Thomas followed the looping noise down a hallway, noting a pair of pants strewn across the floor. Thomas entered the living room to see the exotic couch strewn across the room, revealing a small, open trapdoor. Thomas peeked into the space beneath the trapdoor, it was a tiny little hole in the sand. Yet it was empty.
Thomas spun around as he felt an energy approaching him. He quickly ignited his hands as he faced the hallway he had entered through. A small, scarred woman with chains around her hands entered the room from the hallway. Thomas immediately let his guard down as she began to sob upon seeing him.
“Please, Mr. Hale did no wrong,” she sobbed. She fell to her knees as she began to cry violently.
“Where did he go?” Thomas sympathetically asked.
“Train,” She simply replied. Thomas slowly approached the woman and then crouched in front of her. He held up his blazing hands to her chains and quickly melted the chain connecting her wrist cuffs. Thomas then stood up and made his way down the hallway, over the pants, and back into the foyer. He stopped for a moment as he stared back into the house.
What if she’s lying. There’s no telling what he’s done to her, what if he’s hiding here.
The sound of the train huffing its engine as it began to slowly roar up caught Thomas’ mind. He quickly raced out of the manor and back through the courtyard, his feet ignited into a fiery mass as he ran. As he approached the courtyard fence, Thomas jumped up and the flames at his feet spewed out like an eruption, catapulting Thomas over the fence. The blast of flames was short lived as Thomas barely made it over the fence before he could no longer keep that output up, he attempted to slowly halt the blazing fires but failed and he fell to the stony floor. Thomas covered his head and rolled when he hit the ground, finding his footing and standing back up as he continued running towards the train.
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Osman and Sal’é watched Thomas as he approached the train station. Having heard the gunshot earlier, Osman and Sal’é quickly sprang into action. They were originally heading straight to Thomas until the train chuffed. Osman redirected Sal’é and the two posted themselves near a small shack at one end of the train. Osman walked up and down the last seven cars; each was a massive oil tanker. The first three cars were passenger cars, followed by the seven oil tankers.
Osman and Sal’é stood around the shack near the seventh tanker as the train began to slowly roll down the tracks. Thomas, still sprinting, raced up towards the third passenger car. He slammed on the door as the train began to slowly speed up. Eventually the train chuffed and slowed its roll, as the small door to the third car opened up.
Osman watched as Thomas dug in his pocket, removed the small pouch, and paid for a ticket. He motioned to Sal’é, and she followed him as he climbed up the small metal ladder on the back of the seventh oil tanker. Once on top, Osman lay down and began to crawl across the tanker making room for Sal’é to lay down. Eventually, the train chuffed again and began to pick its pace up as it left Lonechapel.