A land of Sinners

6 - Hard Times

"So you were made to join a gang after killing their own?" My paw gave me a look with his head tilted slightly more upward at me, his shoulders crossed. "What choice did I have," I explained back to paw, "I know I shot the girl but I felt it was right to make up for my own actions with them!" Paw sighed before his hand was placed on my head, a ruffling my hair up, "Just giving you a hard time, that's all." "Well," I spoken back once again, "I can keep telling my story if you two want." Then Adem cleared his throat, "I reckon that story is just a plain story bud," he sat all laid back in his chair before a grin appeared on his face, "Why don't I continue it for you Tommy?"

The two were reluctant but I didn't care, since they are telling their stories it would feel right to say my own, won't it? Since back then ,during my times as a young adult, I was quite the familiar face to be reckoned with. You both heard those stories right? The famous Billy The Kid, perhaps Doc Holiday? I was on a tightrope between my fellow Americans and the Mexicans in Makero. That is when I met the man Himself, John Wesley Hardin.

Me and him knew each other a time or two. First time I met the son of a bitch was when he took my ring and held my sister by the throat! He was a dangerous fool but I knew deep down we would have made great memories together. That however was short lived. Being on the lam, being caught, those were keen to watch out for. The odds are of being drafted however during this time was high, especially for arrested low down crooks.

We both got the unfortunate end of the stick and got ourselves transported to Makero. The land that was Half white and Half red. John and I sought no way out of this before we were placed onto the battlefield between the Americans and Mexicans. That was the craziest war I even been in, seeing all the death and blood that littered in front of the lot of us. It was known that the Mexicans were more superior in their formation. Our own men retreated nearly twenty times to avoid the most of us being dead, or dog food.

Wesley Hardin always stood by my side, he was about as uncomfortable as everyone else there. But then, things went wrong too fast for that man. An arrow to the knee took place as he was rushed to the safer side of the fight for medical aid. He was strong, he made it out just fine, although his leg was a bit wobbly after a few days it was an injury that took a miracle to save him from! John Hardin then looked at me and handed me one of his own prestigious looking guns before he grabbed my hand and pulled me close. "Go Kill Them with my name!"

His last request after the while of knowing each other was to depict himself, how could I ever fail him now? Our men was falling back with John on the shoulders of some lady from Mexico, I wasn't gonna let down now. I knew that our side was on the border of the state, heading straight into the wide open ocean if we pushed back any farther. My own deed was to serve my time for the actions I have caused in over three states. I was done running from what held me down, not any gun will keep me down for as long as I live. My body kept enclosed within the area of a trench, keeping myself hidden as I heard the ground shaking from the multitude of horses galloping past me.

His words kept repeating in my head as I held his own gun, not afraid to use a typical revolver, despite me only having six rounds. This was a time of heroic deeds, the sight of many Mexicans running above me towards my own men was heart shaking. I was only buried in slightly before I spring out like a broken zipper and raised hell!

"Wait, wait, you was in the war Adem?" The youngest looked at me with those words. "Sure I was," nodding at him, "This wasn't the last of my meeting with John Wesley Hardin, he was still alive back then."

And it was as if a miracle was summoned upon me. An Automatic Stationary Machine Gun was summoned by the gods for my aid. Crates full of large ammunition the size of my finger connected to it by a chain. My hands were heat up just looking at the damn thing! It was as if I had the destroyer of worlds in the palm of my fist. The only thing I could think of as the Mexicans were right in front of me, was to catch them by surprise.

I ain't never had so much fun in my life. I was completely rowing them down in huge piles along each other, even their horses was caught in the crossfire but that didn't matter now. The kick on that gun made my jacket slick back for every bullet was shot from that very gun. The many screams that happened, the yelps and cries from one other was loud enough for my own men to emerge. All but fifteen were dead, the rest were taken prisoner in the nearest town. My own men was wet, as if in water as I realized they did move so far back that they would try to swim away.

It was a violent day that day. I never knew my own body could do such a thing as that. But it was all to repay my debt to society. I knew that after this, I would be considered a hero for saving my men from the attackers. All hope was cut short however as I lowered the machine gun with my hands being bruised from the sheer recoil. The sounds of a mean chuckle was behind me before I was a tall figure smack my on the left side of the dome, knocking me down and out in that very place.