In Blood and Fire [Working Title]

Prologue

Thunder rolled over the wide flat land, the rumble echoing off the mountain range that surrounded the valley. Floyd William McClain, better known as Will, took off his hat, a white Stetson, as he stepped into the Sheriff's Office.

"Sounds like a storm's coming in." He commented as he shut the door behind him. The sheriff, Samuel Patterson, leaned back in his chair with a nod.

"Good, we could use some rain. God knows this drought's been hard enough on the town."

Will hummed his agreement, opening the drawer of the desk and pulling out a gold deputy Sheriff badge, polishing it briefly before pinning it to his shirt. Patterson watched him, a slight smile on his face. He could never begin to describe how proud he was of the young deputy, after all, he could remember a time when the same young man, then just a boy, had shown up on his doorstep. The poor boy hadn't eaten more than a few scraps in weeks, and despite the freezing rain that had soaked the boy to his core, he didn't even have a jacket to wear. That had been the night that he and Sue, his wife, had decided to take the boy in and raise him themselves. Despite his own initial misgivings about raising the youngster, he found that now, he couldn't imagine his life without the deputy. He'd grown up to be a fine young man, 23 this year, with all the passion for his work as he had loyalty to his family.

Will glanced over, noticing the look on the Sheriff's face

"What's got you so happy?" He asked, lighting a cigarette as he spoke. Patterson just shook his head, chuckling, "just being sentimental, I suppose."

A loud boom made them both flinch, and rain began to patter on the window. Will went a little pale and took a drag on his cigarette, and Patterson could see his hands shaking. Will was quiet for a moment, then cleared his throat, looking at him. "What do you remember of my father?" He asked hesitantly, his sapphire blue eyes flashing with anxiety.

Patterson leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms and looking off into the distance, which Will took as his cue to pull his chair over from his desk and take a seat.

"Well, Darrell McClain was a... Rough sort of man. He never quite had a kind word to say to anyone, at least, not until he met your mother. How he loved her... But, he certainly wasn't terribly nice to her, either. There were nights where he'd get to drinking, and when he'd start in on her, Bradford-he was the deputy before you, I was still new to the job-and I could hear it from here at the office. First few times, we didn't get in the middle of it, but after a while, he was only getting nastier, and we started going in to stop him before he could hurt her. A lot of times, she'd come back and stay with Sue and I, until he had sobered up, your mama was Sue's best friend. But nothing made your mother glow like you boys did," he paused to chuckle, "she was so excited when she found out she was pregnant with you, she was practically bouncing. And she was a hell of a good mother to you, I wasn't surprised at all that she had Jeremy a year after you were born. Then, though, you got sick, and she thought that hope was lost. She sobbed on Sue's shoulder for hours while you slept in her lap, and if ever you made as much as a squeak, she was already checking over you, making sure you were okay. It wasn't your fault that she came down with it, too."

Patterson took a deep breath, his eyes shadowed over with sadness.

"After she passed, though, and you got better, Darrell took to drinking heavily. He started to get mean, and without your mother to keep him in check with you kids..." He trailed off, as Will looked away from him. He didn't remember much from that time, he'd only been around five years old when his mother had passed, but he had little snippets, flashes of memories, nearly forgotten to time. Patterson gave him a sympathetic look, but Will looked back at him and nodded to him to continue.

"At first, it was all emotional. He'd berate you two, yell at you both for anything he could think of. But, when you were... Oh... Six or so? Maybe seven, I don't remember now, Sue and I would find you and your brother sitting on the porch steps when we'd come home, and every time we did, you especially would be pretty battered up. But, whenever we'd ask you, there was always a reason you had 'em, a cover-up, no doubt, but back then I didn't see the writing on the wall. Not until the incident."

Patterson remembered that night well, it was mid-August, and their little town had been in the midst of a massive thunderstorm, not unlike the one blowing over them now. Deputy Bradford had been out collecting taxes, while Patterson was inside the Sheriff's office, writing up a few reports, sheltering from the storm. The rain drummed on the roof overhead, and the wind howled and shrieked as it tried to shake the building off its foundation, but the fire crackling in the back of the office cast a welcoming glow through the room, and the warmth bit back the chill.

At some point, though, Patterson stopped his work, listening. The wind was still loud, but the shrieking and screaming didn't sound quite right. No, it sounded human. Patterson got up, grabbing his jacket and making sure his pistol was loaded, stepping out onto the porch to listen better. Yes, those were human screams, and they were close. He scanned the area, and realized that the sound was coming from the McClain house. He should have known. He quickly left the Sheriff's Office and jogged over to the home, just as Darrell slammed open the door, shoving one of the boys outside. The child landed in the mud, and Patterson grit his teeth, he wasn't quite close enough to do anything yet, but he could see what was going on.

As soon as the boy landed, stunned by the fall, he let out a whimper, and Darrell walked down the steps and grabbed the boy by his throat, screaming at him in a drunken rage as he choked the boy. The boy tried to escape him, clawing at his father's arms, even from where Patterson was, he could see the blood trails that the child had left. That only seemed to make Darrell angrier, and Patterson could see the boy's face beginning to turn blue, as his clawing became weaker. Patterson didn't have time to do things by the process, if he didn't act now, he'd be witness to the murder of a child. He drew his pistol, and pulled the trigger, watching as Darrell was knocked away from the boy, who laid motionless in the mud. Patterson sprinted to the boy, scooping him up and brushing his blonde hair back to get a good look at the damage, realizing that it was none other than Will. But, he was breathing, at least. Deputy Bradford found him a few minutes later, he'd rode over when he heard the gunshot, and while Patterson took Will to the doctor, Bradford found Jeremy and took him to the Sheriff's Office.

"By the next day, you and Jeremy were off to live with your cousin, and we buried Darrell next to your mother. I can't say I really blame him for what he did, but that don't mean I'll ever excuse it," Patterson concluded, glancing at Will, who had remained silent as he listened. Now, Will stood up, nodding slowly as he lit another cigarette.

"I never realized that it was you that saved my life that night," he admitted, letting out a soft chuckle, "Guess I always assumed it was a guardian angel, or somethin'. Then again, that's pretty damn close to reality, given how many times you've rescued me."

Patterson gave his son a warm smile, "I'll always do my best to keep you safe, if ever you need me, I'll be there."