the youth (Wild West Story)

The Rocks 6

The youth straddled his horse, Alice clinging to him, fingers digging into his sides. The crack of Coyle's pistol rent the air, a thunderous echo that spelled doom. The bullet tore through the night, finding its mark in the horse's eye. Panic surged through the beast, a wild tempest of hooves and fear, flinging the youth and Alice into the unforgiving dirt.

Coyle dismounted with a purpose, his boots crunching on the desolate ground as he approached the fallen pair. Their bodies lay twisted and gasping, breath stolen by the violent impact. The cold steel of Coyle's revolver found its mark, poised between the youth's eyes.

"You're one unlucky motherfucker," Coyle sneered, the grin etched in malevolence.

In those final breaths, the youth's mind raced back to the genesis of their ill-fated journey.

Pigsy came into the tent where the youth lay among the other foul and rotten youths. He shook him awake and told him to get ready, it was half past two in the morning and they had to leave in thirty minutes. The youth rose to his feet and grabbed his guns and a backpack that belonged to one of his tentmates when Pigsy wasn't looking. He thought he might as well, for they wouldn't need it as much as he did. He followed Pigsy out of the tent and they crossed the camp under the bright moonlight that shone upon them with no clouds to hide the stars above.

Alice was already there waiting for them with the captain who had his hand on her shoulder. The youth saw this and he took note of it. He had seen many men in the cantinas do the same to the whores and the next day they would find them dead or worse in some back alley. Alice shook off the captain's hand and came towards the youth. He could not see her well in the dark but he could make out some of her usual features and he heard her voice that sounded impatient but also secure.

She came up to the youth and looked him over, seeing him in the moonlight alone. She eyed his guns with a scornful glance.

"You sure you can shoot?" she said.

"I just started yesterday but I can pick off a hog a few yards off," the youth said.

She sighed and mounted his horse behind him. The captain watched them with envy, he had been trying to woo her for the past twenty minutes while they waited for the other two but she had given him nothing but short and bitter answers

Another soldier, a lean and wiry man, mounted the horse with the captain. They rode through the dark night, across the barren plains. The moon cast a pale light on the land, revealing the shapes of rocks and cacti and bones. The wind howled and the dust stung their eyes. They heard the cries of coyotes and owls and other things they could not name. The world was a harsh and hostile place, where life was cheap and death was common.

But the youth felt a strange calmness in the night. He preferred it to the day, when the sun burned like a demon in the sky and scorched the earth. He liked the coolness of the air and the quietness of the stars. He felt a kinship with the night, as if it understood him better than anyone else. He felt free from the troubles and horrors that plagued him in the day. He felt alive.

In the shadow of the relentless desert sun, a discourse unfurled amongst the motley band.

"What in the hell are we doin' out here, Coyle?" Pigsy, ever the voice of skepticism, inquired of Captain Coyle.

"We're escortin' the girl back, collectin' our pay, and vanishin', Pigsy. That's the long and short of it," Coyle grumbled, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

"And where's this girl's home, Cap?" Pigsy persisted.

"Arkansas, goddamn it," Coyle spat back, the very name leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.