Windblown Saviour

Windblown Saviour - Chapter 2 - See How They Fall

Chapter 2 – See How They Fall

I watched him fall, almost in slow motion. The roar of the guns had left me slightly stunned as it always did, the smell of cordite rank in my nostrils. There was a distant thud as he hit the ground and then, utter silence.

Ever the showman I spun my guns, one going in the opposite direction to the other, and flicked them neatly back into their holsters slung low on my hips, the matching grips protruding briefly until my poncho dropped off my shoulders to cover them once more.

There was a hole in my shirt just under the armpit, I'd felt the tug of the bullet as it passed through the thin black cotton, but thankfully it had missed my body, and once again I was the one who remained standing. Once again I had proved that I was the best.

Adrenalin high in my blood and a smile gloating over my lips, I tilted my hat back on my head to let the morning sun warm my face, the wind drying the sudden sheen of sweat on my forehead. Unmoving, I watched as the crowds dissipated to drift back to their mundane little lives. The show was over. As they left, occasionally looking back over their shoulders at me or the man I had dispatched, a disreputable looking old man moved crabwise over to the cooling corpse, quickly rifling through the pockets and removing his guns before the other 'men' of the town could get to him.

An undertaker, dressed as I was in black, and measuring tape in hand moved out from the porched shop fronts with a shroud and shouted irritably at him to get away. The old man stopped, grinned gummily at me and bustled away with his spoils, disappearing swiftly into a side alley.

I didn't need to see the body up close.

Two in two days: it was time to hit the road.

A small group of men stood off to one side. They waited, quiet and unmoving, a rock in the tide of humanity that flowed around them. The group included the bank manager, a local ranch owner and the proprietor of the largest store in town. These were the men who had raised the money: these were the men who would now pay my way to a new life in Mexico. Once the crowd had meandered away I left my triumphal patch of dusty street and moved to join them.

"Your problem is removed," I stated as I approached. "I would like to collect my money and go now please before your good townsfolk get worried about me staying. If you'd like a piece of advice, next time some piece of scum like that turns up, just kill him quickly and bury him. Ambush him in an alley or something."

"That was incredibly fast shooting young man," said the shopkeeper quietly as we turned to face one another. "Emily, go inside please."

His second comment was aimed at his daughter who peeked out from behind his legs. I smiled at her, and she smiled back fleetingly as she ran back to the shop. She reminded me of my cousin. As she peeked out from the shop doorway, she gave me a little wave which I returned before replying to his comment.

"Thank you Anton, I'm glad you enjoyed the show."

This was perhaps not the reply the balding shop owner had expected and he gave me a long look, studying my face intently for a moment. As I raised a questioning and perhaps slightly confrontational eyebrow, he looked away, rubbed his hands down his shop apron, and glanced at the other two men inviting them to join in the conversation with an eloquent look.

"Shall we discuss this somewhere a little more, er... discrete perhaps, gentlemen?" suggested the middle of the three men.

Short, pompous and well dressed, the bank manager, one Arcturius Blatt, was my least favourite of the group. He reminded me of a well-dressed rat and seemed to twitch nervously whenever he spoke to anyone.