Blood In the Water

prologue

When James had killed the last guard, August had heard a whistle. He thought nothing of it, just another dying man trying to save a life that wasn't his anymore. It belonged to the Callahan's, and would only serve as another check mark on their lists of sins. August turned to Diego who offered to open the safe, Henry was the one who nodded, and so the man went for it. Shooting three shots into the two locks.

"Thought you said this was goin' to be a hard job, Henry," Alexander laughed. Moving over to stand by Diego as he opened up the separate lock boxes. "There was what, seven guards? Fuckin' piece of cake."

"Yeah, says the man who didn't hit a single one of them." Diego chuckled.

"Just get the money," Henry said.

August looked over at him, standing back from the other three— James has since grabbed the satchel from Alexander, loading it up along with Diego. Henry smiled, and August watched as Henry's attention goes out to the empty tree line. Simply lost in thoughts, or maybe preparing to say something, but then August heard it.

Faintly, barely detectable, a rumbling sound. Henry's realization came quick, to which he cut off Alexander's laughter as the man finished stuffing his and Diego's satchel with the stolen cash from the bank wagon. A moment later, everyone else heard it too. Horses, hooves, lots of them, quickly growing faster and faster.

All five of the unmounted men run to their horses, leaping to their saddles. Behind him at least eighteen men appear, galloping down the wooded slopes and weaving through with ease. Not a single slack in their pace as they reached the more open area of land where the Callahan members were racing for cover. Avoiding the primed pistols and their fatal bullets.

August pushed Jenny, as much so that he wondered how much further she could go before exhaustion hit and she bucked him off. But somehow, she hadn't given up yet— and it seemed as though the law hadn't either. They were riding hard bringing with them a blunt ringing of gunshots. August had pulled out his rifle, trusting the splotched mare to lead them safely as he turned over his shoulder and fired a few shots towards the army of dark clouds and men. He thinks he shoots three, kills one of them, but it's hard to tell when they just keep coming. He can't think straight, not anymore.

Diego was hit just as August thought things were beginning to clear, his horse got hit too. Shot from under him. Which made Diego fall to an unforgiving earth. August had stopped and wheeled around, aiming his rifle to kill yet another man. Alexander was already headed back to rescue their fallen man, as he was trapped under the kicking legs of a dying horse. Before August could get there though, Alexander has collapsed, a bullet claiming his life in the split second that August could not see.

"Jesus Christ," August heard Henry say in a horrific-shock. He looked over at August who could not tear his eyes from the sight from Diego and Alexander's fresh corpses. "We need to go, August, now." August spurred at Jenny's hide, getting the mare to spring back into action. Racing hard enough to forget all the thoughts and fears of joining of dying with his friends. He wasn't done living yet, he supposed.

August thought that James might of gotten himself shot too until he saw the outline of a familiar gelding up ahead. "C'mon, this way!" James had yelled out.

A thunderous volley erupted from another patch of woods, where more killers and saints poured out from. Fingers tightly gripping weapons that they couldn't properly use. Most of their shots going awry. Which gave August and Henry ample time to fire back, and take a few more men down while catching up with James.

James had led them down a raised road that drops off into a river, too rocky enough for the horses safe passage and too wide for a clear jump. They rounded a curve and stopped, reining back their steeds as to not fall into the rushing water. There was a trail on the other side, dark, which was for once promising of their freedom.

"Shit!" August swore, looking back to see the glow of the lanterns approaching. "We gotta cross now," He said looking to James and then Henry— where his gaze lingered. Henry nodded, and they all understood.

Quickly, all three of them got off their horses. August pressed a gentling hand against Jenny, murmuring bits of a "Thank you," to which she could never understand. Off her he grabs his rifle, keeping with him the revolver on his hips, and with that he lets his possessions go. Smacking the hind of a horse without knowing if he'd see her again, "Get!"

His words were echoed by James. Whose clunky Friesian passed by, galloping along the riverside until he met up with Jenny. They were far enough away that August could barely make out the details of their coats. And Henry was already stepping into the river, stumbling over the numerous uneven rocks that stuck out, trying to move as fast as he could with James stalling the lawmen.

James fired off a couple rounds, and from the looks of it he still proved himself a better shot than August. But he was still on land, and that was worrisome, rightfully with the still-shooting lawmen approaching. James grabbed at his satchel, which he'd placed on the ground, getting ready to race away and then—

"Leave the money."

James' attention is shifted towards Henry, who was glanced over his shoulder before turning around. August looked over at both men, expecting more of an argument out of James, but he too knew the importance of survival. They hadn't come this close to death in a long time. Today they were surrounded by it.

But as they were stalled, the bullet hit him.

There was a moment of fire. August's skin igniting in flames that only he could feel, as a number of other stray bullets passed by. He could only focus on the burning of his arm, and his own blood that lay thick against his icy fingers. He didn't even notice that he wasn't the only one affected by the sudden rain of ammo, until he heard the crack behind him.

The bullet grazed August's arm didn't slow, only stopping when it caught Henry in the neck. Henry fell instantly, the back of his head landing on the hard edge of a river stone. The water around him beginning to turn an unsettling shade of dingy pink. August could feel his own heartbeat stilling for a moment, a single second. There it was, the emotionless froth up an upcoming wave of pain.

And then it's crashing down around him when he got a good look at Henry. Teeth still bared sharp and jagged, from where his mouth had been opened in a gasp from falling and practically cracking the backside of his skull . His red hair soaking in bloody water— his bloody water, his neck blown open in gushes of messy gore and crimson, and his body still shuddering final breaths. August looked at Henry, and almost immediately rushed to his side. He thought about Alexander, who did the same for Diego... Alexander, who died. August expected to die in that water too, but James grabbed hold of August and rushed him to the other side of the river.  It didn't matter anymore that his legs are sore and that the lawmen are relentless, nor does it matter that his left arm is bleeding and they lost all their money. What matters is the image of Henry that seared itself into August's brain.

They continued running, and when they couldn't run anymore, they hid. And eventually, both James and August made it home.

»»————-————-««

this is shorter than what i usually write, because well, it's a prologue. but it's still some of my best work and i'm pretty proud of it.

expect more updates and revisions coming soon.