Bad Company-A Western

"Hmm, I watched Westerns with my dad for so many years and I have to say tho I prefer watching that western parody, but I must say that I did enjoy this to my own surprise

*sits back and waits for Post 2...*
"

"Sparda said:

"aztek the lost said:

"Hmm, I watched Westerns with my dad for so many years and I have to say tho I prefer watching that western parody, but I must say that I did enjoy this to my own surprise

*sits back and waits for Post 2...*
"

Thanks man!

I hope to put up part 2 in a day or two, when I get on again.

But, I wonder.....what's Westerns?"

I'll be waiting...

-_- and I meant western's
"

"It's a hell of a thing to kill a man. You take away everything he's got-and everything he's ever gonna have"

-Clint Eastwood, Unforgiven

No one actually saw the gunfight that ensued. Sheb was hiding behind the bar-and he was the only one who lived. Well, the only one who lived and didn't leave town.

The Stranger drew his large Colt pistols, and fired before half the other men in the room. His first target was a man on the second story balcony. The bullet fired from the Stranger's gun hit him in the throat, which sprayed like a fountain of red paint. The noise-the noise was tremendous. It was like thunder, and overshadowed everything else in the building. The victim grasped at what was left of his throat, before tumbling over the railing, spinning, and then falling face-first onto a table, shattering it beneath him.

With his other pistol, the Stranger rapid-fired in a semi-circle around him, five times-hitting five men. They either crumpled to the ground, and were knocked off their feet. Patrons were coming from the upstairs, now-wielding guns as well as clubs of any kind.

As they rushed around the Stranger, he fired off two rounds, the first htting a patron in the stomach, and the second in the chest-knocking into him hard enough so that his body caught up with his guts. The mob surrounded him then, and started beating with their weapons. But something was different about the Stranger-he didn't seem all together too fazed about this. He swung his pistol, breaking the jaw of one of his attackers, and knocking back two more of the five remaining. Using his other arm, he pushed one of them closer-and then clotheslined him so hard that hwas knocked off his feet, into the air, and then landed back down on his head with a crunch. The Stranger was strong, all right-very strong. Too strong.

With a backhand, he caved in a thug's face, and then launched another blow with his other pistol. It smashed into the side of the man's head so hard that his head cracked open, and he flopped down like a ragdoll.

Turning, he fired his two guns simultaneously, and shot two men in the chest at point blank range. Then both jumped up, arms flailing, and then came down onto the old, wooden floorboards with a heavy thump. Most of the patrons, seeing what was occuring, bolted for the doors and windows, aiming to get out. His face still mostly masked by his hat and shadows, faced the direction of the fleeing crowd and fired wildly into it. Several of the men running fell, dead before hitting the ground.

A click resonated from behind the Stranger. He lowered his guns to his side, and then turned his head to see it. A final patron, standing alone amidst the moaning bodies and bloodstained floor, held up his pistol, cocked and ready. His hand shook, and he was very pale. His finger was just starting to come down on the trigger, when the Stranger spun, he dark cloak obscuring much of his body, raised his right arm, and fired his giant Colt. The bullet flew, and struck the final man in the forehead, leaving a gaping red hole where his eyes had been. He collapsed to the ground.

One of the bodies stirred, and began to push himself up. It was Pete, finally recovering from his nasty fall. He opened up his eyes, and was greeted with the sight of a gloved fist.

The Stranger's fist smashed into Pete's face, breaking two of his teeth and smashing his nose. He fell back down, wailing in pain. The Stranger holstered one of his pistols, reached down, and picked him up, whispering into his ear. Sheb didn't say anything, apparently having lost consciousness. Shaking his head, like in disappointment, the Stranger raised up his other hand, holding the pistol, and put the cold steel under Pete's jaw. He pulled the trigger. A second or two later, and he dropped the now-faceless body to the ground.

Sheb was almost deaf from the thunder of those guns, but he could now hear the Stranger's boots thumping on the floorboards again. He shut his eyes, praying to the god that he never fully believed in for some sort of miracle or divine intervention. It didn't come.

After realizing that his eyes had been shut and he had been praying for about five minutes, he stopped praying and started looking. Pushing up-just a bit-so he could see over the counter, he gazed at the destruction of his saloon. Bodies-some still moving a bit-lay scattered all over the room, tables were smashed, and red soaked the ground. He started feeling woozy. He began walking around the counter to evaluate just how much this was going to cost, when he saw the rawhide bag sitting on the bar counter. He walked warily to it, and then grabbed it quickly, as if it might be trapped. Slowly, Sheb pulled it opened and gazed inside to find that the entire bag was full of dollars. Lots and lots of dollars.

He thought back tothe question that the Stranger asked him, then tossed it away. It was best not to dwell on such things when they had already passed. Still, he wondered where the man was now.....

And if someone had answered him, they would've said "A place you would never want to be".

----------------------

Part 2 complete. More will come on what the Stranger was looking for when he entered Sheb's bar, and just how bad a place he's in now, in Part 3. Thanks for reading!

"WOOT! This is totally awesome man!

It makes me think of the Saint of Killers, which just so you know, is a good thing :D
"

"I've never seen so many men wasted so badly"

-Clint Eastwood, The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly

The horse trotted to a stop on the dusty road. The Stranger looked up at the adjacent mountain, to it's halfways point, where he knew his destination would be. He had waited a long, long time for this. Raising his leg, he slipped off the side of his horse, landing on the ground with his heavy boots. The impact sprayed up dust. He checked began walking up the slope, and then began his climb. He didn't slow, didn't try to find safe routes up-he just walked.

------------------------

Steven opened his eyes. He had been having a ugly, ugly dream. His bed wasn't very comfortable either.

The thirteen-year old boy slipped out of his bed. He threw the blankets off his body groggily, and his barefeet slogged on the wooden floor. He rubbed his eyes, and began walking out of his room. On the way, he took a look out of his bedroom's window. He did have quite the view, after all. Steven had lived on this mountain for eleven of his thirteen years, and he had never grown tired of it. His father had chosen to live here. He  was important, and important men got to choose where to live with no worries.

Steven, after his short glance out the window, walked down the hallway toward the kitchen. He had done this many times before-whenever he awoke, he had a glass of water, stayed up for another five minutes, and then would fall asleep easily. He was just exiting the drab, old, wooden hallway when the gunshots started.

-------------------

"SOUND THE ALARM, RING THE BELL, FOR GOD'S SAKE, RING TH-", but as the man was about to reiterate his command for the third time, a bullet crashed into his throat, blowing out his windpipe and rendering him unable to talk. He fell from his perch to the ground twenth feet below with a brutal crunch, and then rolled down the dusty mountainside. There was now a general commotion about the fortress as about fifteen men had already been killed-in less than two minutes. The man who had entered the base of the Angel Eyes had done so nonchalantly.....almost casually. He simply walked in, drew his large guns, and began firing at everything that moved. Everything. Left in his wake, so far, were fifteen men, nine chickens, four horses, and a dog.

The fortress had high walls, and along them, the guards' tangled and broken bodies were scattered. Their perches had done nothing to stall the inevitable-for them, it was doomsday, and Satan was coming in person.

The Stranger walked slowly, guns drawn but at his side. Suddenly, two men cleared the corner, firing wildly at him. Raising his arms slowly, he fired once, then twice-both bullets smashing into the skulls of the men. Their flesh and brain sprayed outwards behind them in a scatter, painting the wall red and making the dust moist. They collapsed in a heap.

And The Stranger walked.

--------------------

Steven, eyes full of panic and fear, rushed down the wall towards his father's room. Why there was a gunfight occuring in his property was a mystery to the boy, but he had no doubt that whoever started it was going to be stopped, and quickly. Without realizing it later, he was, of course, wrong. Rounding the corner of a hallway, he was almost bowled over by his father-a tall, thin man with greying hair and eyes that had seen too much.

"Steven! Are you alright!?", his father asked, grabbing onto his son's shoulder's and holding him still. Steven nodded. His father now released his grip on the boy, and drew his Colt. It was a very large gun-and Steven had only seen his father draw it twice. The first time, there was a lot of blood.

His father now turned to Steven and spoke in a commanding tone. "Whatever you do.....do not leave the house. My friends will keep you safe"

Then, almost on cue, four men entered the kitchen, and nodded towards Steven. Without another word....his father was gone, rushing down the hallways to the south exit. Something that was much larger than gunfire-Steven thought later it was probably an explosion-shaked the ground, and a pot off of the counter fell, shattering on impact. Steven was now huddled into a corner of the kitchen, as far away from the exit of the room as possible, with the men surrounding him. Whatever was shooting on the property of Tobias Leone, it was bad.

-----------------------

The Stranger had killed another half a dozen men in his advance to the mansion in the centre of the fortress grounds. He still walked, not hurrying, with his pistols at his side and his boots thudding, and his cloak flowing. Without seemingly any prompt, he whipped one of his pistol hands up, not moving his head, and fired once. There was a muffled yell, and then, out of the darkness overtop of the mansion, a body fell to the ground, a large red hole where his heart had been.

Fifteen more paces. Nothing happened. The fortress was, for now, silent. Ten more paces. The Stranger was at the steps to the mansion. Four more, and he was at the door. Something that would've been peculiar to any man watching the attack on the fortress that was chock full of dangerous killers would've been that the Stranger holstered one of his huge pistols so that he could open the double doors to the mansion. It was almost like he didn't care.

-----------------

Five minutes had passed without Steven hearing anything. And then, with a striking clarity and disturbing volume, screams, gunfire, and yells erupted from out of the door and down the hall. He began trembling. More screams, closer now. Automatic gunfire, rapid. A bullet burst through the door that lead into the kitchen. The men guarding Steven looked at eachother nervously. No more screams now, though something did hit the adjacent wall with a thump.

Suddenly, the door to the kitchen flew off it's hinges, a portion of it shattering outright. A tall, large man entered the doorway, his face obscured in shadow. A larged birmmed hat topped his head, and he wore cowboy boots alright.....he had a large cloak, dark, and wore black, tight gloves.

What Steven noticed last, oddly, were the two huge Colts in his hands. They were identical to his father's pistol.

The man with the pistols did a sweep, and fired. Two of Steven's protectors crumbled against the walls. One fell facefirst onto the kitchen table. The last had his legs blown off from underneath him, and fell, shrieking and moaning. The Strange man walked over, picked the man up with one hand (after hosltering his pistol), pressed a Colt against the former-bodyguard's face, and fired. The bullet exited and entered with a splat, and the man stopped his moaning and shrieking.

The Stranger looked to Steven, who was so shocked and afraid and confused he didn't even move. He was paralyzed to the spot.

The Strange man reached over, and grabbed him by the cuff. He lifted Steven high in front of him, like a shield, and walked back out of the mansion. Steven saw the carnage, the body parts, the blood, the ruin of the mansion. Tables and furniture were in pieces, men were strewn everywhere-against walls, on the floor, on chairs and tables. The air was full of flies already.

Now, Steven and the man were outside, in the square of the fortress. The Stranger flipped Steven around, holding him up by the back of the throat, and pressed his pistol against the back of the boy's head.

"Tobias!", the Stranger yelled out to the empty fortress.

"Show yourself, now. Or your son dies"

-------------

I haven't forgot :)

Thanks for reading!

"First come smiles. Then lies. Last is gunfire"

-Roland Deschain, of Gilead

"Tobiad! I know you'll come out, so don't waste anymore of my time", the Stranger called out in a know-it-all tone. He still pressed the barrel of his pistol against the back of Steven's head, and, for all intents and purposes, Steven thought the man was going to shoot him even if his father did show up. Which was the second thing Steven was thinking-if his fatehr would show up. Steven knew tht he himself would've ran for it, but his ftaher was a brave man, so who knew.

To Steven's small surprise, his father did appear from around the corner of the outer wall, walking steadily forward towards the Stranger before stopping. His face was grim, but in his eyes you could see anger. Steven thought that his father looked sad, actually.

"Who the hell are you!?", Tobias screamed out at the Stranger. For a few moments, the man said nothing in response. Then:

"You'll die wondering, you bastard"

The Stranger tossed Steven aside, where the boy hit the ground hard and rolled over on the dust. Sand was kicked up from the impact in a small cloud. The two men stared down at eachother, although it looked more like the Stranger was looking at the ground. The man holstered his pistol, and  straightened his back, entered a duel stance. Tobias did the same, his hand hovering over his pistol holster. For a few moments, neither of the men moved. They just stared. Then, with a shrill whistle, the wind kicked up, and they drawed.

It was quite close, despite the uncanny way the Stranger cleared the fort. Tobias was fast with a gun, and had been using that gun for a long time. Steven couldn't pick out the difference in speed between the two, but just knew this-at the last possible millisecond before pulling the trigger, something else caught the Stranger's attention. He turned, and as he did so, Tobias fired, but missed as a result of the sudden pivot. The Stranger raised his gun higher, aiming towards the mansion, and fired. The bullet pierced though the second story window, and a spray of blood flew out of it. Another sniper.

While this was happening, Steven began to pick himself up to escape with his father, but, he saw with a emotion he had never experienced before in his good life, his father turned away and bolted. Bolted far. Apparently, the failure of his sniper trick had scared Tobias something fierce, and now, nothing mattered to him anymore. By the time the Stranger turned, it was too late. He fired a slug just as Tobias got around the corner, whcih embedded itself into the thick wood wall and sent shards of the logs flying. He gritted his teeth in fury at his escaped prey. He holstered his pistols.

Steven started running, but tripped and fell hard. Stars and darkness swam around his field of vision. Then, he felt like he was floating, before realizing that the Stranger was carrying him again. This time, he started kicking and fighting, but cold steel knocked itself against the back of his head, and the world went dark.

-------------

Yeah...another one done. It was shorter than the last, but....eh.

"I actually thought you had forgotten about this...

But this is just getting better, and better, really enjoying this man, keep it up, and please don't make me wait so long this time :P
"

"Pity is, I always see a job through to the end'

-Lee Van Cleef, The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly

"What are we going to do with the boy, Jer-", the old, heavy-set man started. He was cut off with a glare from the Stranger, which silenced him immediately. The tall man was cleaning his guns, dusting out the leftover gunpowder from the barrels of his huge Colts.

"You know not to call me that,  Tanner", the tall man said in a low voice to the older. Tanner just stared at him, before reiterating his question in a more appropriate manner.

"What are we going to do with the boy?"

The tall man stopped cleaning his guns for a minute, glancing up. His eyes almost spoke for themselves in the light of the lamps. He looked back down at his disassembled pistol, before placing it down on the table slowly with a thump. He leaned back in his chair, making the wooden floorboard creak. The hotel room wasn't the most glamorous, but they needed it.

"What do you think I'm going to do with the boy, Tanner?", the Stranger inquired in his gravelly voice. Tanner swallowed hard, not responding. He then slid his chair back and stood up to his full height-which wasn't all that tall. Most of his body weight was in his midsection.

"I'll be out for a few hours. Keep an eye on the kid", Tanner said to the Stranger, grabbing his coat and sliding it on. The tall man had now gone back to cleaning his guns. Tanner stepped away, casting a short glance towards the bathroom where the boy was still unconscious. Then, shaking his head slightly, he gripped the door that led to the hallway, and walked out.

------------------------

When he returned, it was much darker outside. The town had become quiet-Tanner wondered what Providence was like right now, miles away. Were they setting up a hunting party? Perhaps. More likely they were being smart, and staying away.

He entered the hotel room quickly, crossing over to the window and sliding the blinds shut over it. He then set himself down in a chair, weariness leaving his body. He leaned back, sighing lightly. The Stranger had long since finished cleaning his pistols, and now was playing with a deck of cards. He didn't even seem to notice Tanner's appearance. The older then spoke, suddenly and clearly.

"He's reassembled the Thirteen"

He said it like it was taboo.

The Stranger immediately glanced up, and placed the cards down. He turned around to the bed, where his pistols lay, and holstered them. As he did this, he spoke to Tanner.

"Where?"

Tanner moistened his lips nervously. His hands figeted with eachother. Finally, as if relenting, he answered.

"Here. They're here"

The Stranger's back went straighter, before turning and walking to the door. He stopped though, looking as a creak from his right cut through the silence of the room. The boy pushed through the doorway groggily. Opening the door, the Stranger only said a few more words to Tanner.

"Keep an eye on him. He's no use to me dead.

And tell him everything about his father"

And, shutting the door, he left.

-------------------

Yeah, sorry bout the week long delay. I got tied up a bit. The next chapter's will probably come just as slow, as I start a job on Monday.

"well...I can wait a week I guess, I'm busy all summer anyway, but nice chapter!! this one has raised a lot of questions so...I'm hooked now :D
"

"The days of good hunting are over...."

-Eli Wallach, The Magnificent Seven

"Sit down, son. I've got a story for you....', Tanner said to the boy. Steven slowly walked to the chair and slid into it. Tanner, meanwhile, pulled out a flash and took a swig of it's (surely unhealthy) contents. "Now....where to start....."

--------------------

Texas, Unknown Location, 1858

The inside of the bank was quiet, considering it was about nine o'clock in the morning. Three security guards wandered about, occasionally chatting to eachother. One of them walked up to another (the latter being much larger than the former), and began to talk to him.

"So, Frank....I heard that last at the ol' Niner, you had so-"

Without warning, the outer wall exploded in a huge shower of wood, smoke, and dust. It covered the area, and the third guard went flying backwards through the air before crashing sideways against a desk-a shard of wood sticking out of his mangled chest.

The remaining two were knocked off their feet, but quickly recovered, drawing iron. Out of the smoke, meanwhile, several forms emerged. The guards began to stand, aiming their pistols. A small puff of smoke was knocked aside in the cloud as one of the figures fired, and the bullets entered the smaller guard's head with a splat. He fell backwards immediately, smacking his head on the floor. Frank tried to fire, but a bullet knocked his pistol out of his hand, and then, a fist smashed into his face, knocking him unconscious.

In all, thirteen men stood, holding various different weapons-assortments of pistols, shotguns, and rifles. One man, tall and wearing a hat that almost covered his face, turned to the rest.

'Well? Get to it! Blow the door off that thing, Red!", he yelled to the men. They nodded to eachother, before running down the bank's hallway with a obvious satisfaction. One of the men-it could only be assumed that it was the one called Red-reached into his bag and retrieved a large pack of dynamite.

"Fire in the hole, fellas!", he called out, lighting the explosive and tossing it down the hall. The bandits ran around the corner, covering their ears. The dynamite rolled down the hall, before resting to a stop against a large steel door.

With a resounding explosion, that portion of the building exploded in a spray of rubble and chaos. Before the smoke even cleared, the bandits rushed forward down the hall. Red was first, and upon seeing that the steel door was rent in two, he let out a woop of glee. He slipped through the doorway, returning as the rest of the gang came to the doorway. Popping out, Red yelled to them at the top of his lungs.

'We're rich boys, RICH!"

---------

"Your father, boy, was a part of that gang. They called themselves the Black Thirteen-on account of them a'having thirteen members. I suppose they thought adding the 'Black' in front of it just made it sound more intimidating", Tanner spoke, before taking another swig. "Ah yes, that was their last job together, since things soon went downhill after that...."

-----------------

It had been twenty minutes since the heist. As of now, the bandits were riding away from the town at maximum speed, their loot stashed into large sacks. Tobias rode closer to the leader of the outfit, Benjamin.

"Ben!", he yelled, loud enough to be heard over the ruckus of hoofs stomping. Ben looked sideways to Tobias with a quizzical look.

"What is it, Tobias!?", he yelled back. Tobias said something, but Ben didn't hear. "What!?", he asked back.

"THIS!", Tobias replied, drawing his pistol.

Ben was almost fast enough, drawing with lighting speed. But not quite. Tobias fired twice, the first shot missing Ben's head by an inch....the second burying itself deep into his stomach. His horse reared up, frightened by the sudden gunfire, and Ben tumbled off, rolling from the momentum. The entire gang slid to a chaotic stop, with two of the members drawing their guns at Tobias. But the man had the advantage, and fired twice, knocking both them men off their horses, dead. The remaining ten stayed back, mixed looks of satisfaction and shock. Tobias then rode beside Ben, who was still conscious, and slipped off his horse, standing beside the mortally wounded man. Ben glared up at him, muttering one word.

"W'why...?"

Tobias looked disappointed, but answered anyways.

"You said you wanted to stop, Ben. You said you were gonna settle down, and quit this business. Well....I couldn't let that happen. Sorry, Ben, but you just got expendable", he explained.

Reaching down, Tobias drew his other pistol-Ben's two matched Tobias's pair, as the men had crafted their's together. He dropped it onto Ben's stomach, and began walking away.

"Leave the money here! It was part the deal with the sheriff!", he ordered the remaining men. He climbed up onto his horse's saddle, and was just about to ride before turning to Ben once more.

"Sorry Ben. You gotta admit though-we were some bad company"

-----------------------

The door opened, and the Stranger stepped through. He had some blood sprayed onto his cloak, but seemed otherwise normal. He looked to Tanner.

"You tell him?', he inquired in his gravelly voice. Tanner swallowed and nodded.

"Good", the tall man said. It was now dawn outside, and the sun was rising. He grabbed Steven by the arm and began leading him outside. Tanner rose out of his chair.

"Wh-what are you doing?", he questioned. The Stranger stopped and turned back to him.

"They're coming into town, Tanner. I intend to use the boy for his purpose. What do you think?", he answered. Then, he opened the door, pushed the boy out, and left, leaving Tanner alone in the rising light.

--------------------

Two parts left. And they are both segments of the final gunfight :D

Oh man, this is totally AWESOME!! you make westerns interesting :D

(btw, this is Aztek)

"Oh man, this is totally AWESOME!! you make westerns interesting :D

(btw, this is Aztek)
"

"The_Runaway said:

"Oh man, this is totally AWESOME!! you make westerns interesting :D

(btw, this is Aztek)
"

Thanks dude.

I hope you like the climax, I've thought about how to work it out for many hours.....
"

"Sparda said:

"The_Runaway said:

"Oh man, this is totally AWESOME!! you make westerns interesting :D

(btw, this is Aztek)
"

Thanks dude.

I hope you like the climax, I've thought about how to work it out for many hours.....
"

I'm sure I will like it...hours you say? starts to become curious about this climax and how everything turns out
"

"Revenge is a disease. And it spreads fast"

-Cuba Gooding Jr., Hero Wanted

The layout of the town was that of a cross in it's roads. There were three, and they met in at the northmost point of the town. They were very long roads, and around the town was peppered buildings and occasional other ranches. About three good miles northwest lay the train tracks and station. It wasn't as hot today as it usually was in the town. A cool breeze blew by the roads, stirring dust in light clouds and occasionally knocking window boards against the wooden walls with hard thumps. At the point where the three roads met, there was a group of horses tied to a post, and about fifteen metres to the right lay a carriage with two more horses strapped to it.

Directly south, at the end of the road that led straight up into the heart of the town, the Stranger stepped out of the hotel, his guns at his sides. He held Steven tightly by the back of the neck, and led him out into the road. For several moments, they walked in total silence. No one was out and about in the town yet, either because it was too early....or because they knew what was going to follow. About halfway up the street, the Stranger suddenly drew one of his huge Colts with a blurring hand, and pressed it against Steven's head. Less than a second later, a bullet flew by his hat, taking a very small portion of the edge out. The man's eyes flicked around quickly, taking in the different surroundings.

"Funny Tobias, I reckon that thirty is a lot more than thirteen!", he yelled. His voices echoed slightly, which was odd. From down the road, another voice came. That of Steven's father.

"Well, after you killed four of them at the mine, I figured it was better to overcompensate for once!", it said. The Stranger cocked his Colt, and responded.

"You know what will happen. Either you come out here and call your men off, or I will kill your boy!", he explained. "You have ten seconds!"

Steven shut his eyes as tight as he could. He was terrified beyond belief, beyond any words-and all he could think about was whether or not it was going to hurt.

"Five seconds Tobias!", the Stranger announced. Nothing. Then,

"Kill the boy, he means nothing to me!", Tobias screamed out the window of the building straight ahead of Steven and the Stranger, at the end of the road. Silence now. Steven figured there was probably three seconds left. He counted down in his head.

Two.

One.

A small click resounded beside his head, and he slowly opened his eyes to see the tall man lowering his gun from Steven's head. His face was grim. He then spoke to Steven in a tone that was commanding-a tone that no one would argue with had they heard it.

"There is a water tower a mile and a half east. Wait there for me. If I don't come back by this time tomorrow, then your daddy's still alive.

I'll see you soon"

With that, he shoved Steven aside, hard enough to send the boy flying through the air and into the open doorway of a house to the left side of the road. The Stranger drew his other gun, and ran forward towards the building where Tobias and his men were staying. Steven turned, and ran in the opposite direction.

---------------------

Bullets flew by him as he sprinted head on down the dusty street. They made a high-pitched whine as they came close to blowing off his head, to tearing apart his body. Still, he ran, and as he ran, he fired.

He raised his two pistols and turned, still in transit, and fired twice, alternating. One man fell from a roof, rolling down it's steep shingles. The other bullet punched through a window, shattering the glass and cutting into a man's throat, from which blood spurted out in erratic jets. He turned again to face straight, and was greeted with the sight of two men coming out of the narrow alley between a saloon and a general store. Both were holding double barrelled shotguns. Diving, the Stranger flew onto the wooden porch of one of the numerous structures of the town, behind two barrels that held only God knew what. The men with the shotguns both fired, and the barrels exploded from the middle-up, spraying chunks of wood and water everywhere. Rising with both pistols held, the Stranger fired again, and both men collapsed in a heap on the dusty road. He picked himself up and began running again, his boots thudding on the floorboards hard enough to make them shake. Bullets from Tobias' roof snipers peppered the poor building beside him, punching holes through the flimsy wooden wall, and splinters flying outwards in waves. He didn't even bother to turn, he just moved his eyes, raised one of the guns, and fired. One of the most persistent sniper's head shattered, and he fell backwards out of sight.

Nearing the end of the road, and coming now closer to the building where Tobias and his remaining Nine were holed up, the Stranger vaulted over a post where horses would be tied, and across the street. Men popped up from behind cover to fire at him, but missed. The Stranger had enough time to turn and fire, eliminating one of the men, before he dove headfirst into the ground-story window of the hotel in which his main target was hiding.

He shattered through the glass, spraying it everywhere, and slammed into the floor, where he rolled to recover. Directly to where he had rolled, a staircase worked it's way up another story, and two men stood up on the indoor balcony. The Stranger, instead of standing, ending up in a position where he was lying down, and aimed both his weapons. The other two men were fast enough to get off their shots, and only narrowly missed-likely because of the tall man's roll. Both of his shots slammed into the men's chest. One of them fell backwards, the top half of his body obscured as he fell into a hallway that ran sideways. The other crashed down the stairs, rolling to stop in a mess at the base, just in front of the Stranger.

He pushed himself up, stepped over the fallen man, and rushed up the stairs. Out of the hallway that was to his left and was obscured by a wall came a man, holding his gun in front of himself. The Stranger and the man nearly collided with eachother, but the tall man was fast enough to knock the gun out of Tobias' goon's hand. It flew over the balcony railing and down to the floor below. The man threw a punch at the Stranger, which smashed into his face. His head was knocked sideways,and the other man capitalized on this by trying to wrestle one of the Stranger's guns out of his hand.

Turning back to face his attacker, the Stranger slammed him against the wall, gripping him by the shirt. He smashed his fist into the man's face, before hurling him aside and through the balcony railing. The man crashed to the floor below. Rushing down the hallway to the only room with a closed door, the Stranger reloaded his bullets. Upon coming close enough, he kicked the door down, shattering the wood and entering into the room, where two men were. Neither were Tobias.

The Stranger fired before either could get off shots, killing them both. One man had his heart torn in two, and the other got three bullets in his chest and throat. They both hit the carpeted floor. Glancing around, he found no one else in the room. He walked to the window, and looked out.

Tobias was climbing into the carriage, swearing his driver to get the thing moving. He was a tricky coward, the tall man had to give him that. The Stranger's attention was brought back behind him, where he heard footsteps. Instinctively, he turned and fired, getting two bullets into the chest of the man who he had thrown off the balcony. Tobias only had four left in his little gang, including himself.

The Stranger was just about to exit the hotel room and board one of the horses outside when he noticed the objects in the slain man's hand. Three sticks of dynamite. Adrenaline pumping, he turned and sprinted towards the window, jumping out and shattering the glass. The window faced down the street, instead of out into the center of town, and so the Stranger landed on the roof of the adjacent building, hitting the rooftop running. Then, the hotel exploded.

He was knocked down onto his face, with huge pieces of wood flying outwards in a wave. Flame and smoke bloomed around him, but not on to him-and quickly, he picked himself up looking towards the street where the carriage lay. The horses were galloping now, and the vehicle was moving full-speed.

But the Stranger wasn't about to let Tobias get away.

------------------------

I apologize for the humongous delay. I was pretty busy at work and was finding it hard to get on to the computer when I got home and one the weekends. Anyways, there's one part left to finish off the story, the climax to this gunfight.....which I can assure you, if going to get more ridiculous.

"just noticed this now and smacks himself in the face

umm, I will read this, I promise, I just am a little busy on my vacation in CANADA...but go on if you have to, I'll read it yet"

Here ya go Aztec, a whole four months late, lol. The finale to my only western fan-fic.......enjoy.

--------------

"Bad luck"

-Kevin Kline, Silverado.

The wagon, ornate in it's design, started slow. Railings for style only started at the back, going down the the edge of the roof, leading down to underneath the vehicle. To the adjacent building, the Stranger sprinted, snipers firing constantly. Bullets passed by him at all times, and one came exceptionally close to his head as he jumped from the roof of a general store to the slanted roof of the horsestables. He slid downwards, towards the edge of the roof, his feet planted down. Shingles snapped off and flew forwards and back from where he slid, and finally, he hit the corner, and flew off the rooftop.

He dived, soaring on a trajectory that would bring him to the wagon, His slammed into the corner with his shoulder, and spun off, passing by the back. As quick as he could, he shot out his hand, and gripped the very bottom of the stylistic railing. It seemed to give way for one moment, bending, before holding steady. The Stranger's feet dragged along the dirt road, spraying up dust.

One of the side doors opened, the men inside hearing the impact. A man leaned out with his revolver, and took aim. The Stranger released his grip on the pipe with one hand, and he twisted behind the carriage at just the right moment. The bullet smashed into it, sending wood splinters into the air. Weaving back out of his cover, the Stranger fired, hitting the man once in the chest. The snap of bones could be heard as his ribs collapsed from the impact, and blood sprayed back against the door that he was hanging out on in a spray pattern. He fell out, head smacking the ground heavily and he flopped over onto the dirty earth.

The tall man climbed up the pipe, onto the roof. He stood, gaining his balance over the bumps of the road. He aimed his pistol at the driver and fired, blowing out the back of his head in a wave of red. He slumped down, and fell forward, the wagon passing over him. The two horses kept their course, heading straight down the straight road, still having a distance to go before leaving the walls of the buildings.

Crouching down and gripping the edge of the roof, he fell of, hanging off and aiming through the open door, ready to fire. No one was inside. Clenching his teeth, he swung back up onto the roof in time to see the remaining thug climb onto the top, and Tobias begin crawling to the horses. The thug came at the Stranger throwing a punch which connected to his face.

Another punch came, and the tall man side stepped. He smashed his pistol into the thug's face, spraying blood over them, and knocking out at least four teeth. Grabbing the man by the back of his shirt, he spun, and using his momentum, hurled him off the wagontop. The man flew forward, yelling something unintelligible, and crashed into a foodstand, causing the wood to practically explode. He grew smaller and smaller within moments, and the dust cloud he generated gradually dissipated. The Stranger turned back forward, and Tobias was now on one of the horses, struggling to detatch it from the wagon. The tall man raised his gun at Tobias' head.

Suddenly the last sniper on the road took careful aim, and fired. The bullet missed it's original mark, and instead slammed into the Stranger's chest. He fell sideways, knocked off balance. His head smacked into the top of the wagon violently, and his grip on his Colt was lost. It skittered over the rooftop, and fell off. Cursing, he regained composure, and then immediately drew his other Colt and fired at the sniper. All the Stranger saw was the man fall out of sight.

He pushed himself back up, Tobias having already detatched the horse and riding away. With one of them gone, the wagon began to lose it's course, and waver. Immediately, the tall man jumped forward and landed on the remaining horse. He twisted back to the chain that bound the animal to the wagon, and fired point blank with his massive Colt. The chain was severed, and he whiped the horse faster with his spurs, urging it to ride faster. He would not lose his target when he was this close.

Far ahead, a trail whistle blew, and the locomotive came into sight, heading perpendicular to the two rider's course.

Behind, the wagon, now having completely lost it's balance, veered sharply to the right. It fell over onto it's side, and collided with the last building on the road, causing complete destruction.

The two riders, hunter and prey, came nearer to the train, and the tall man came closer and closer. However, Tobias reached the train first, and, with the help of two gang members, clambered on.

Galloping hard, the Stranger came up beside the train. He was within arms reach of the last car. A thug popped out of the door, and another hung out the car's side window. The Stranger pushed off of his horse, and jumped for the car. He gripped the railing and swung on, pistol whipping the first goon off the car. Immediately, he smashed through the door, reducing it to splinters. He fired at the thug who was still hanging out of the window, causing him to slump as his throat opened up. Three other men began firing at him.

The tall man dove forward, firing three shots-two of them hit the same target, who collapsed against a train chair. The other caved in the forehead of another thug. Hitting the ground from his dive, he rolled forward, and upon rising, delivered an uppercut to the remaining man, breaking his jaw and knocking him off his feet. He moved forward, exiting the car. He climbed up the ladder on the next one, clambering onto the roof. There was only two more cars until the front, two more until Tobias had to face him.

Two men were waiting for him, and rushed. The first was too slow, and the Stranger hooked his leg around the back of the thug's, taking him off balance. Simultaneously, he slammed his pistol forward, breaking the man's face, and sending him off his feet. The thug hit the roof hard enough to flip over and land on his face. The remaining man threw a punch. The tall man sidestepped it, grabbed the man's arm, and using the weight of his attacker, hurled him off the train. Running forward, he jumped to the next roof, landed hard with a thud. Up on the next car, he watched as a henchman climbed up the ladder onto the roof. His car started to draw away from Tobias'. They had detatched it.

He rushed forward, not bothering to see how large the jump was. He knew that if he lost him now, he would lose him possibly forever. He jumped, legs going forward and back as if he was still running, arms waving in the air. He soared above the ground, going fast enough that he would die on impact with the ground. Finally, he hit the very back of the car.

The wind was knocked out of him as he struggled to find some sort of grip. Finally, he wrapped his arm around the hooking couplet, his legs dragging over the railroad. A man peered over the edge of the roof. The Stranger, ribs aching, whipped his arm up and fired, a burst of blood flying into the air and falling back down onto the roof. The man slumped over the edge and slid off, head caving in when he crashed to the ground. Slowly, the tall man climbed up, and began going up the ladder. He climbed onto the roof.

The wind blasted past him, and the chug of the train's engine was vibrating through his body. He tugged his hat down to keep it on his head. Just as he did so, Tobias popped over the side, and fired, hitting the Stranger in his arm. In pain, he dropped his remaining Colt, which hit the roof of the car and slid off. He was defenseless.

Tobias was grinning as the tall man gripped his arm in pain. He yelled out loud enough to be heard over the calamity.

"You were one dumb son of a bitch to come after me, you know that? I don't even care about the reason, NO REASON IS GOOD ENOUGH! Boy, before I'm done with you.....I'll make you kiss my damn shoe. You lose, you cold-hearted basta-"

Suddenly, and with his good arm, the Stranger reached into his coat and drew a third Colt. He fired once, blowing off Tobias' kneecap. The man screamed in agony. The tall man moved closer.

"Recognize this?", he asked in his gravel voice. Tobias' eyes widened. He screamed in anger and confusion.

"Who are you!?"

The Stranger moved closer.

"I'm Jericho Cross. I've gone across every state in this godforsaken country searching. I've killed damn near everything that's ever walked or crawled at one time or another. And now, I'm here to kill you, Tobias Leone"

The broken man was pale white, his head shaking, his eyes and mouth wide. The Stranger lowered his gun to his hip, indicating a draw. Tobias looked down at his pistol in utter dismay.

"I don't deserve this. Not me, I don't deserve it, do you hear!?", he announced. Cross didn't care.

"I'LL SEE YOU IN HELL!", the man screamed defiantly. For a moment, Cross paused. Then he responded.

"Yeah. You will."

Tobias, screaming in fury, drew his pistol.

---------------------------

It was dusk. The long shadow of the watertower stretched outwards. Steven was sitting against it, using the shade to keep cool, when he heard the trot of a horse. His eyes lowered, as he knew what it meant.

Cross slid off the saddle, landing with the jingle of spurs and the grind of dust. He moved forward to Steven, and dropped Tobias' pistol in front of him. A small cloud of dust bloomed up around it. The Stranger looked down at the boy, who said nothing, but only looked back.

"You're infected", he said.

The boy looked at him quizzically. Cross elaborated.

"Revenge. It's a disease, and it spreads fast"

With that, he turned, and walked to his horse.

-----------------

Epilogue


The bar in Providence has repaired itself after the slaughter that occured almost two weeks ago. Not many still went to the establishment, and it was understandable. Most thought it was cursed.

Currently, though, one man resided in the saloon. A heavyset man, one who sat with himself, alone in the corner, drinking. Tanner was downtrodden.

Suddenly, coinciding with a crack of thunder, someone entered. Someone tall, with a hat obscuring his face. He walked, his feet thumping on the floorboards, his spurs jingling with each step. The barman knew who he was-he would never forget that form. He shrunk up against the wall.

"Dear god in heaven, not again.....", he mumbled in fear.

Cross traversed the bar, heading straight for Tanner. The man barely acknowledged him. He glanced up, before glancing back down to his drink.

"Take care of Tobias?", he asked. Cross nodded his head. "Good.", Tanner said quietly. The Stranger spoke up.

"I know, Tanner"

The heavyset man looked up at him, surprise in his face. "How?"

"I always knew who you were, Tanner", Cross explained. Tanner's eyes widened.

"Listen son, I had bandits in my town. When one of them came to me and told me that they would give me they're gangleader, I had to accept. You're daddy was dead by the time I got to him, it wasn't my fault! I didn't do anything to him! Tobias and his boys would've killed him even if I said no-"

Cross drew his pistol and cocked it, aiming at Tanner. The man stopped immediately, but began another line of negotiation.

"C-come on, Cross.....y-you wouldn't shoot an old friend now, would you?", Tanner asked, warily. Cross relented, lowering his pistol, and responded.

"You're right. I wouldn't."

Raising his gun again, he fired three times, point blank into Tanner chest. Blood sprayed onto him, covering his coat and pants, his face. Blood spat against the wall. The old man flipped back in his chair, landing heavily, the crimson spreading outwards.

Slowly, the Stranger holstered his remaining Colt. He turned, and began walking to the bar, and the barman, who had watched it all in horror. Cross slid onto the stool, hunched over. He rapped his knuckles against the counter.

"Drink please"

--------------------------

"o_O I can't believe I never noticed you posted the finale...

anyways, that was EPIC!!

best ending ever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

glad the Stranger finally got a name

this has got to be the coolest Western ever

hmm...maybe I should pin this :P"