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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Westerns  |  House: Booksie Classic
Part two of The California Widow.

Submitted: May 08, 2008

A A A | A A A

Submitted: May 08, 2008




So I lied, I said I wouldn’t leave you in a state of confusion and there I go ending the first part with a cliffhanger. Sorry for the two part delay, but as I began to write I promiscuous enough to drop the rest of the paper in the damn toilet. I was gonna reach in and get it but then someone came and yelled, " Shoot, Luke, or give up the gun!"

What can I say, if the man has to go who am I to stand in his way. Anyway, I suppose I should continue from where I left off, where was I... let met just check. Ok, here we are, this is when it gets creepy. I don’t mean the bug crawling down to your crotch creepy, I mean the blood curdling, heart thumping, thoughts racing sort of creepy.


Not even waiting for a response I slowly reached for the pistols, slowly grabbing them I put them gently on the ground, looking up with a large smile I said, " Now here’s what I’m going to do, lets forget about Hoosegow and I get away after being forced to perform two more murders."

Looking a little at sea hearing my confident tone while he had the power, he seemed to falter a bit. But with a shotgun like the one he had, even a lot of blow ain’t worth more than deadbeat with a hammer. Hitting me hard in the head with the butt of the shot gun he fired warned, " I’m the Big bug here, you think I just gonna let a hard case like you walk out of the house?"

I rubbed my head, that would leave a bruise but at least I was that much closer to killing this Pinkerton once and for all, and maybe the woman in blue if I was still in the mood. Glaring up angrily I replied, " You woke up the wrong passenger bub, I would take your whole kit and caboodle and shin out before I beef you both."

Not even giving him time to consider the proposal I rolled forward, as he pumped another shell in I was already in action, pistols in hand I fire one shot on the forehead, with the other hand I shot the woman in blue square between the eyes. Both falling, guns still pointing at them, smoking hot from the action I smiled.

There was no limit to killing, but there was a limit to what my body could take, an I needed some rest. No more shoddy makeshift beds made of itchy material blankets, or even worse, the cold cracked leather that was my saddle, everything was shoddy about my attire I suppose, but when on the road you gotta stand the gaff.

Hoping to God that no more Pinkerton fuss would occur I stripped down naked, tossing the clothes with a lick and a promise unto the coat hanger, feeling the comfort as my body sunk in, feeling the material caress every inch of my body I thought to myself, this is Simon pure. Quickly falling asleep I dreamt of something horrible, the lively town covered with swaying shadows.

Waking slowly after the flushes rest I’d gotten in years ever since my escape two years ago, expecting the usual morning chatter of people getting out from the large fandago, moaning and groaning with large hangovers, dragged out, probably still at sea.

But instead all I heard was the chippering of annoying little birds, which balled me up completely, I knew these type of burgs like I knew the back of my hand, they were all the same, mining settlements that is, noisy and chaotic mornings followed by equally noisy nights.

Birds still whistling I got to my feet, walking to the closet I found a travelling outfit in the large boss of a closet, made of tough cow hide with silk interior these were the first pants that were as comfy as they were sturdy. Gun belt on I placed my hunting knife in the back scabbard, buttoning the plaid shirt I finished off with two ammunition belts crossed in an x, holding twelve shells each. I had pistol ammo on my belt, so it was all good.

Looking over the shotgun I cut a strip of leather, making a makeshift gun sling I placed the shotgun on my back, turning to the window I yelled, " Shut your little bazoos or I’ll make bear signs out of ya all!"

Petering out in the blue cloudless sky I packed my satchel, putting a spare change of clothing which would be better than being stuck in the same clothes for months at a time, I then filled a small box full of shotgun shells and six shooter bullets. Ready to leave I walked down the stairs, still not hearing any noise I calmly opened the door and walked out.

Walking out of the posh house I looked to the left, nothing but barren ground with sand blowing in the air in swirls, now the owner of a thousand dollars I reckoned I could afford some Who-hit-John. Still feeling at sea regarding the ghost like state of the town.

As soon as I got in I knew I was in a large difficulty now, much worse than the Pinkertons. Inside the saloon sat all the inhabitants of the burg, which showed how pathetically small the town was. Men, women and children alike, balled up and cowering like a bunch of Namby-pambys.

Looking to where they all seemed to be staring I seen the source of this fear, seven men and one women, wearing some sort of metal plating for armour with strange looking rifles. Hands slowly going down to peacemaker the tallest of the bunch, gun pointed directly at me said, " If you think you want trouble, then let slide, if you want to live put all your weapons down, slide em over here and join em Nampy-pampys.

I could maybe kill one of them if I was lucky, or two if my draw was quick enough but they had a military look to them, they were Simon Pure killers. Lowering my peacemakers gently I slid them over, he didn’t lower his rifle awaiting for the rest.

As I reached for the shotgun, kneeling as I placed it to the ground I looked up, " I guess I gotta throw up the sponge, I can tell your the wrong passenger to wake up." Sliding it over he smiled and watched as I joined the others. They trusted that I had given all my weapons, which I hadn’t of course.

Joining the rest of the group, a calm pillar among a ruined city of fear they picked the guns up. " Now we’re not on the shoot here, word on the saddle has it this burg’s quite desolate, I’m sure if we beef you all no one will ever know, you’ll just peter out of history."

" We’re heeled as you can tell, these be type 44 calvary rifles, boss of all riffles any of you will ever see. We’ll take all your plunder, take a rest here and be on our way, questions?"

Raising my hand with exaggerated eagerness the speaker looked at me awaiting some four-flusher speech, smart guy, " I be the law in this place, just been coppering my bets here and according to Hoyle I am to declare you are all under arrest." Frowning at my directness I continued, " However, you got the bulge so maybe I can skedadle and..."

Shooting mere inches away from my toes, smoke rising the woman yelled, " Hobble your lip Dicker, law or not were the Big bugs now, so your going to toss that purse over!" Smiling at this I tilted my head and looked back at the lead guard, " Quit beatin’ the devil around the stump and take charge, she gonna give you the mitten if you not..."

Anger on his face he raised his rifle and shot me below the knee, falling to the ground I looked up laughing, " Looks like I got your back up Rip, I don’t usually reach this stage until the second date, think you could slow down for dear old Malcolm?" Raising his rifle again, finger on the trigger he fired, the woman knocking his rifle into an angle missing me by an arm length.

Pissed at the interruption she asked, " Kramer? Malcolm Kramer? Incredible, you made quite a mash with the boss, got him in the neck real good you did. And here you are in the flesh, maybe there is a God after all."

Painfully rising to my feet, gritting in pain I chuckled, " That’s rich, I highly doubt it do, the God part that is. So you fellows work for SKA? I don’t care a continental, your boss was just waiting to be chiseled." Suffering another blow up they all raised their rifles on me this time, woman standing in front of them was the only thing separating me from the bone orchard.

Balled up at this the lead guard put his rifle down, " Back down Jules, It’s as hot as a whorehouse on nickel night in here so lets kill this mudsill, take the plunder and go!" Still not moving he motioned for the other guards to lower their rifles as she explained, " He’s got lots of money on his head, he’s more valuable alive than dead so we can’t let him die or get away. Want to tell the boss you killed off our money?"

Moving aside the tension rose, smiling I knew I was safe, this woman dressed in man’s clothes had just saved my life. Walking toward them with a slight limp I said, " You really gotta quit beatin’ the devil around the camp, anyway you’ve got it all down but nine."

Standing right in front of me she asked, " What!?" Smiling at these people I thought to myself that these blowhards were way too easy for a pathological killer/ bunko artist such as myself. Sitting down at a table near one of the quiet guards, noticing these five were between hay and grass I began, " Its quite simple really."

"The way I look at it I don’t have to play ball, you need me alive and I can make you beef me, I know you want to, you and your kiddies there." One of the young ones not able to tolerate a direct insult walked up to me, smashing the rifle in my head I caught it by the but.

Before anyone could react I had the knife at his throat, all guns turned on me I smiled, " This one just wet himself, if you don’t want him in the bone orchard your going to let me skedadle, no foul no harm." Seeing her smile in return she walked over and grabbed the youngest child in the saloon, about five years old.

Frowning I looked at her, " Malcolm, I know your a bunko artist but can you live with this boy’s blood on your hands?" Looking intensely into her eyes I already had a clever retort, " Well Jules, when one’s got bloody hands you just wash em in the fountain." kneeling down I switched the knife to my left hand and grabbed the rifle.

Looking back up I aimed the rifle at the child and shot him myself, small stream of blood trickling from between his eyes Jules looked astounded as she let the dead boy fall. Her face changed from astonishment to pure disgust, " You beefed a kid! Jesus Christ Malcolm you actually beefed a kid!"

Smiling coyly I replied, " Had a hog-killin’ time too I might add, no need to make a fuss over this, bend an elbow and let me skedadle. Or beef this young in, beef him and put a spoke in my wheel. I dare you, beef him!" I said this with great agitation, the excited type that is, like someone trying to convince his friend to go to a fandago.

Lowering her rifle I smiled, now they were under my control. " Now I got the bulge, so you all drop your weapons and fork em over to them namby-pambys. And gimme my peacemakers."

Reluctant at first they slowly lowered their weapons, sliding them over to the crowd I whispered something in the kid’s ear, Smiling I said, " And while your at it, why don’t you just give that fancy armour of yours and any ammunition you might have as well."

Undoing their armour they tossed it to the ground, no longer heeling I let the kid go, as he walked outside I walked over to the rest of the group, what a pathetic sight. Guns right there and not one of them namby-pampys had gone for the gun. " Well looks like the wind’s changed directions, you’ve gone up the spout and now I got your bulge."

Spitting at my feet, astonishing as that was considering the distance between us, " You scoundrel! Your mind’s up the spout! Shooting your mouth about being the law and beefing a kid in cold blood! You can pass the buck here but when you reach heaven God won’t take your promiscuous hard case of a soul."

There she went with God again, rolling my eyes with annoyance I replied, " Why you have to take a perfectly good souffle and poke a hole into it, anyway, I got an Ace high reservation in hell."

" Secondly, all that soft solder won’t get you nowhere, and last of all, I hate liars and you my little woman are nailed to the counter. You should have beefed me when you had the chance because I fight like Kilkeny cats." Without hesitation I shot them all, my trademark kill, the bullet between the eyes.

All falling to the ground it seemed they were finally out of their panic stricken paralysis, running to the dead boy’s corpse the young couple began to sob, woman repeating the name Charlie over and over again.

Anyone with real balls would have tried to beef me now, or anyone with rocks for brains. But none of them were here, I had more rocks for brains than anyone here. Gathering the rifles and ammo I spotted the leader about my size. Pulling him out of the saloon I said, " Someone prepare me a hell of a lot of food."

Dragging the corpse to the bone orchard I quickly took his clothes off. Dumping his body over the deputy’s corpse I put the clothes in the satchel and walked back in the saloon. As I expected the food was ready, water skins filled and they had even prepared their most bang up horse, looking in apple pie order, tough enough to hold lots of weight but still able to get me out of a thick before I got stuck.

Slipping my shirt off I placed a little t-shirt on, slipping the metal armour although it felt very cold, slipping the shirt back over, making sure the badge was in place I slipped one of the SKA trench coats, long and black with demonic runes inscribed on the bottom.

Packing everything on my horse I sat on the horse, waiting as the boy I’d taken hostage rode beside me. After giving him the choice between life and death he chose the life, smart lad. Anyway, someone had to show me how to use them damn rifles.

As we rode off in the distance I lit a cigarette, looking at me he asked, " Malcolm, mind forking over a smoke for your new pardner? And how could you kill that child in cold blood? Its been eating at my mind all day."

Letting out a cloud of smoke I replied, " Like I kill anyone, aim and shoot. And about the cigarette, here is the answer for as long as we’re together so get it though your skull, Quirley." Frowning in a balled up manner I sighed in annoyance, " Stop being such a shave trail, Quirley, Roll your own damn cigarette."

© Copyright 2020 Wobster. All rights reserved.

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