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Wicked West - A LitRPG Western
Wicked West 2 - Chapter 6

Wicked West 2 - Chapter 6

Chapter 6

It was not the Colonel Sanders of Kentucky Fried Fame, but we had taken to calling him that based on how he dressed and spoke. Whatever the person behind the avatar was like, he obviously had a sense of humor.

Not-Colonel Sanders went by the name of Foghorn Lee. He runs a gang called The Midlands moving guns, moonshine, and money all across this fictionalized version of the wild west.

Winnie was riding behind me on Horse, hugging my sides as she filled me in. I was following Coot while Bear rode a little behind and to my right. Leaving camp, we had traveled down and into the ravine before following the trail by the main river north.

"Your chicken guy sent a messenger to camp, so he knows where you live," Winnie was explaining. "Some little guy, he couldn't have been more than 17 years old."

Coot slowed down and we came up on his right side.

"He weren't no young avatar either," Coot said, addressing my usual concern of people being too young to be in this world. "Or if he was, he was new. He was real nervous."

"I would be too," Bear said from a little behind, "if I had just rode up on the gang that absolutely wrecked the Colossal Paynes yesterday."

Coot shook his head."Nah, it was more than that."

"He looked very unsure of himself," Winnie agreed.

So, if it was a kid, then EveNet had a different age limit than I had assumed. I don't know why, but that felt important.

Winnie kept explaining, "The boy was seen by Joan first. She sent me the signal to get online. When I signed in, Coot was already up and they were both sitting with him at the table. He told us that Foghorn wanted to see you as soon as possible. He made it clear that if we didn't make it a top priority that we were going to likely end up dead."

Coot pointed at something on his HUD that we couldn't see, but I knew that he was pointing to the map. "He said we needed to meet him an hour north of Easter at a log cabin just off the trail. It'll have a fence and a drying rack for the meat out front."

I saw Bear start loading his shotgun with red shells.

"Explosive rounds?" I asked.

Bear nodded. "Coot doesn't think this will end well for us and I'm not going to let somebody named after a cartoon chicken aim a shotgun at my nutsack again if I can help it!"

"The table is five feet from my bedroll," I said. "How did I not hear any of this?"

"You were out," Winnie laughed. "Snoring and everything."

"Alright, that's enough of that," I said over my shoulder. "What about you, Bear?"

"Unlike our crazier companions, who were both awake at the ass-crack of holy-shit-that's-early, I was asleep," he laughed.

I turned my attention back to my crazier looking companion. “If it’s a mission, then why are we racing off to it? These things don’t usually start until we get there anyway.”

Coot nodded in agreement. “Regularly, that would be the situation, boss. But, according to our camp cooky, this ain’t regular. The request said ‘as soon as possible.’ According to Joan, that put a clock on it.” He let out a little chuckle. “The chicken czar is there now, waiting for us and he won’t be none too happy if we don’t make our appointment.”

“But, like, I mean…” I was stuttering it out, “what’s the worst that could happen if we don’t go?”

Coot twisted in his seat to square up and eye me quizzically.

“I am going to have to make the assumption that you are still in a groggy state of being,” he said, like a parent reprimanding a child. “Clearly, pissing off the only mob boss we know while trying to run a protective militia around a town that is, mostly, unaware of our recent criminal enterprises would be a violently horrible idea.”

“I second that emotion,” Bear said.

I held up a hand. “Alright, fair point. Maybe next time give me coffee before you shove me onto the horse.”

The trail went across two rivers, but I wasn’t really paying attention. It could have been one river that we crossed over twice. After that, it took us into the woods. The air grew chillier as the trees began to grow taller. This forest was thick with tall pines and I found myself wondering which kinds of violent animals might be in here. Bear had mentioned once that folks can get mauled by animals while out and about. I wasn’t too keen on knowing how dying to a mountain lion would feel.

The messenger had given the physical directions to Coot, Joan, and Winnie, and they had shared them with Bear and I, but there was no point to it. The map highlighted the route we were on the moment I accepted the job. The highlighted path spread out on the map and I could see that we were entering the area of the meeting.

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Looking up, I took in the cabin. It was quaint, and larger than the cabin that we had met Foghorn Lee in the first time. Another glaring difference was the state of the cabin; it was kind of pretty.

The cabin was surrounded by a roofed deck that extended the cabin look with rough-cut logs. Those same logs continued to the fencing all around the property and sectioning off the side yard from the two flower beds on each side of the path up to the home.

That was the difference. This wasn’t just a pretty place. It felt like a home. I wondered if this had been pulled from someone’s memories or if it was the product of an artistic game developer. Either way, they nailed it.

The side yard was where the drying racks for the meat were. There was a wooden table and some chairs, a fire with a stewpot over it, a drying rack, and a butcher’s table. It was a nice setup and I wondered if Not-Colonel Sanders also sold meat. Perhaps we could surprise Joan with cash and a cow leg.

The map on each of our HUD’s showed us just on the edge of the yellow tint that indicated our mission would start once we entered it. That tint encompassed the entire property up to the fence. Once we walked in, we were not going to be able to back out.

“Well,” I turned to Coot, “any ideas on how we should handle this?”

Coot smiled at me through his scraggly beard. "You ain't too sleepy, are ya? That was a great question.” He made a show of adjusting his hat and checking his pistols as he answered me. “It's been less than a day since the train robbery, but we can't say we didn't stop by because we were lying low. Nobody on this continent would believe that.” He nodded to Winnie who had mostly remained quiet once she had spilled her guts on the morning’s visitor. “Your wonderful granddaughter has given us more information than most get. In her tellin’, we’re fixing to be famous in the outside world. I’d bet dollars to donuts that the game will respond to that. Everyone inside and outside the game has already heard about Easter. So we don't lie. We explain that Easter was a side job that we were asked onto and took up once we saw that the raiders were the same people that Foghorn,” he snickered and shook his head at the name, “double-crossed us with.” He nods. “We’re either going to get a shoot-out or a job out of this, so we might as well call him out on his back-stabbing. The way I see it, he might reward us for figuring it out and besting the Colossal Paynes.” He returned his attention back to me. “How’s that plan sound?”

He wasn’t lying about the double-cross, either. We almost failed that mission because RadicalLarry19 and his posse, the Colossal Paynes, showed up. I hadn’t realized it at the time, but the folks who give out freelance jobs, good or evil, give out the same ones to everyone. If you’re doing them at the same time, then you have to fight over who is going to finish it.

I don’t believe it was an accident that the same gang that had been griefing me since minute-1 was the same one who took up the job at the same time that we did. Clearly, neigher did Coot.

I climbed down from Horse and whispered to him.

“This is going to go south. It always does.” I pulled his reins toward the fence, preparing to hitch him when a thought struck me. “Hey, when I tie you off, does that slow down how quickly you can get to me when I whistle?”

Horse shook his large head. “When you whistle, the reins lose tangibility and fall through the post.”

I chuckled softly. “Right. Video game logic.” I nodded toward the cabin. “Keep your ears open.”

Then I turned to Winnie.

“Now what?” I asked her. “What do you do and how do I not think about you during any of this?”

Winnie’s perpetual grin since I woke up this morning finally started to fade as the weight of her job took over.

“I’ll hit the button once you guys enter. Each of your streams will go live and I’ll go invisible,” she explained. This was her first time, but she sounded like she had done this for years. “There’s a sort of range from you that I can’t leave, so don’t wait for me if you have to go after someone. I’ll still be invisible, but you will pull me along. So, just do your thing.”

Even though she was my granddaughter, her presence made everything about this feel like some sort of movie set.

Not knowing what to say back to Winnie, I gave her a thumbs up and said, “Wish me luck,” before turning and stepping into the fenceline.

I approached the deck slowly, but as casually as I could force myself. Bear and Coot weren’t far behind me.

My pistols were holstered and the Bolt Action Rifle was slung on my back. My hand was close to a pistol, just in case, but my boys weren’t here to play polite. Coot’s Volcanic Pistol was out and cocked, while Bear had his shotgun with the explosive ammo already propped against his shoulder.

I stopped about five steps from the deck.

"Lee!" I called out. "We've arrived, and the mission's complete. But we ran into some trouble along the way, and the team's on edge. For everyone's safety, come out slowly, alright?"

I could hear movement inside, subtle and shuffling, but there was nothing on my minimap.

Sammy#0421: What? Is everyone crouched inside? This is playing like a trap.

Bear and Coot both looked at me and shrugged. I drew my pistol.

Sammy#0421: Bear, keep the boomstick on the door. I’ll go to the left and check the sides. Coot, go around the other way and check the back and the windows.

Coot took off to the right while I stepped through the gaps in the fence and moved toward the left.

“Hey Lee,” I shouted as I moved. “Say something. You’re making us nervous out here.”

Polar_Bear_Polka: Boss! Bench by the racks.

I risked taking my eyes from the building to look to my left at where the drying racks were. Sure enough, there was a tin cup of something still steaming in the cool morning air. The bench had blood on it, but it was wet and there was no meat on the racks.

Cursing to myself, I holstered my pistol and drew the Bolt Action Rifle.

Sammy#0421: Talk to me.

D0C70RC007: 5 inside. All crouched. Got seen. Coming back around. Get READY!

I crouched next to the nearest fence post and brought my rifle up.

Sammy#0421: Lee?

Coot came around the corner then and hissed, “Didn’t see him.” Then he took up position opposite me with Bear standing directly in the path to the house, his shotgun ready.

The front door burst outward, slamming against the frame as a woman at least twice my side came out with a pump shotgun.

She swung it in my direction and fired. It was so quick that I forgot to even duck as bits of wood exploded from the fencepost. She missed and I fell back and scrambled to get back to my minimal bit of safety behind the post.

No sense pretending anymore.

This was definitely a trap.