"Mr. What's His Face?"

Mr. What's Your Name? - Prolouge

   As the sun beat down upon my back, I walked off to the bar. I had to start over, no horse, no friends, no nothing. All I had was a few dollars and my rifle.
   I forced my tired legs to walk to the Saloon, where I soon found myself asking for a fourth drink.
   "Are you on your own?" That man said, handing me my drink.
  "Yes.."
  "Then this will be your last drink."
  I tried to drink slow, knowing this was my last. Maybe I could go off to some other..hell, who am I kidding. I was bad off.
  A man sat next to me. He seemed to be in his fifties, hell, I didn't care. Just let the man have his drink.
  "Kid, the hell you doing here?" The man said to me, I covered my face with my hair that oh so desperately needed a haircut.
  "Just getting a drink."
  "Getting a drink my ass, well. Haven't seen you around here, eh?"
"No sir, I'm new here."
  "Ah, stop with the damn sir stuff."
  And overtime, me and that man talked everyday at that bar, 5pm to 7pm. We didn't know each others name.
  I learned he had a gang. I had just escaped from a gang, did he recognize me? Was he trying to get something out of me?
  No. I am just being paranoid. He was nice. He was just a nice man. A nice old man.
   I found him trying to persuade me to join the gang, and said they could cure me. Whatever that meant, that they could fix the ills. He charmed me, and well, back then, it worked.
   They were staying in some hidden off camp, saying they had a lot of people after them. I didn't bother to ask the name of the gang.
  "Oh, sir- sorry. I don't have a horse.." I said, internally cursing myself for the timid tone that clung to my voice like a baby to its mother.
"Well, ride with me. You can shoot a gun, kid?" He said, as he hopped off the stool and so did I.
"Yeah, who can't?" I said, following him out to his horse. I walked with a limp, all the time. My father is who you can thank for that. I think he noticed, just didn't comment. I was glad he didn't comment.
The horse was beautiful and white, he helped me get on it.
"I'm sorry if I seem a little weak.."
"Hell, you're fine, boy."
As we rode, the moonlight shined on us. I still remember it. The moon casted its light on my calloused hands, the skin of mine that was forever red and sunburnt.
We rode to a small area, it was well hidden off. A big, burly man with a gun came near. I could feel myself tense up.
"Who's the kid?" The burly man said to the man in front of me.
"I..what is your name exactly, kid?" The man turned to me.
"Oh, Kallias."
"Well, Bill, this is Kallias. He will be joining us today, and from here on."
The burly man, I assumed his name was Bill, grumbled something. The man on the horse dropped us off near all the other horses.
It was dark out, with all sorts of people asleep in tents. Only few awake, they looked at us. I can feel there eyes on me. I do not like it.
I don't like their eyes, judging me.
"Now boy, we will have to get you a tent set up..for now..who wants this boy?" The man asked the awake people.
"I will take him." A man said.
"Go with Charles, and rest boy. You need it."
I nodded simply and went to the man, Charles. He was much taller than me, and I could see his muscles through his tight shirt. We were right away opposites, I was a bit on the short side and a bit scrawny.
He led me to his tent, as I laid down next to him I asked.
"Sir, what's the man's name..?"
"I'm Charles, call me it. And that's Dutch."
"Dutch..?"
"Van der Linde."
Dutch Van der Linde. My father's sworn enemy.
Me and Charles actually talked for most the night, me and him were just a bit similar. He was nice to me. Soon we finally slept. Sometime in the night I was in his arms, but by morning he was gone and I was left feeling cold.
Van der Linde.
If they find out who I am..
I don't think I'm gonna live.