14 hours

13. Bad evening, Mister Postman

When the three gunslingers reached the lobby, Bill had already left the house. The Gila monster hadn't wasted time to regain his weapons. Quickly the three others took their guns and ran outside. But their leader was long gone. Quickly they made their way to the east town.

Like a fuming mad rhino Bill ran through the streets of Primrose Town. The street had filled with nightlife, couples in love, drunk people. But the Gila monster didn't seem to realize the environment what happened around him. Suddenly he slowed his speed, searching for the house where the postman was living. He had reached the laundry house, and next to it stood an old shabby house with a flat roof.
Bill firmed his fists, ready to ram the door, but at that moment...
"Bill, please, don't be upset. Calm down," he heard the voice of Stump, who had followed him.
The Gila monster turned around with a harsh movement.
"I AM CALM!"
The three men fell backwards on their bottoms, while Bill's scream still echoed through their ears.
"Have mercy!" Kinski cried and rubbed his hurting head.
"Bill, Bill! Please, I don't want to land in prison too soon!" Stump begged with folded hands.
"In prison?" Bill snorted. "I will stick that rat in prison as a corpse!"
Chorizo picked up his hat. "But they could arrest us because of riots and home invasion."
Bill breathed heavily in and out. He had big troubles to control his rage.
Finally, the three mammals dared to stand up safety and watched the grunting snorting lizard with tensed faces.
Kinski raised his hands and waved them up and down slowly while he came closer carefully. "Take a deep breath, buddy. Breathe deeply. Think about the prison, where we don't wanna go in."
With trembling arms, the lizard did and after one minute, he seemed to be more relaxed than before.
"Uh, Bill?"
"WHAT?!"
"Your shirt." Stump handed it over to him.
Now the Gila monster realized that he had run through the town in his pants only. Quickly he grabbed the white cloth and put it on.
Then they paid their attention back to the old house. It was more an old big hut and the windows had covered with old towels where some light shined through.
Kinski watched Bill with a worried glance.
"Alright, now we will knock on it, but don't smash..."
But too late. Bill kicked against the door and ripped it off its hinges.
He entered first, the others followed quickly.
First Bill wanted to scream a word of command, but his breath stopped in his throat.
The others looked over his shoulders.
Many, many afraid eyes stared at them. The four gunslingers stood in the door frame and eyed speechless the room where more than ten cat children sat around a big table.
At the top of the table sat a bigger cat, maybe their mother, and didn't dare to speak a word.
"Excuse me for my friend," Kinski said quickly and pushed Bill aside a little. "He's awful at doors. They are for him more a barrier than a private shielding."
"Yes, he is," Chorizo added and tried a smile.
"Is Mr. Walden at home?" Chorizo asked carefully, still in fear Bill could fall back in rage again.
Carefully the bigger cat stood up and went two steps aside to a second door. "Grandpa. Someone wants to talk with you."
Shortly after footsteps came closer. Bill's eyes narrowed in a dangerous way when the postman appeared. His face was lined with horror.
Chorizo's eyes grew bigger when he was seeing how Bill's fists tensed dangerously.
The mouse gave Kinski a warning sign, and the rabbit understood.
"Uh, can we... we have to have a little talkfest – outside."

With tensed postures the men went around the corner of the house where they found a lonely alley until they reached a yard.
Mr. Walden didn't dare to speak a word the whole time while he was pushed by them ahead.
But before someone could open his mouth, Bill grabbed the old cat, lifted him up and pressed him against a house wall.
"Give... give me one reason why I shouldn't split your damn brain in a thousand pieces!"
"Bill!"
Quickly Kinski and Chorizo jumped at him and held his arms. But the lizard didn't think about to release the old man.
"I- I don't understand," the postman stuttered. But that inflamed Bill's anger just more.
"You know exactly what I mean! DON'T CALL ME A FOOL!"
"No!"
"Bill! Calm down!"
The Gila monster had drawn his knife and was going to stab, but that became difficult when his friends grabbed his hands.
"If you kill him, we will never find out where he is!" Stump pleaded.
"We will bring him to speak, don't worry, he will speak! We can still punish him later."
Kinski's words made the lizard a little bit calmer.
"Breath in, breath in," Stump said.
"And give me that thing," Chorizo added and grabbed the knife.
Very slowly, the lizard released the sharp instrument.
Then he pulled the cat around and put him on the ground in the middle of the yard.
"Alright, just because of the time," he snorted through his nose. "I will not cut your throat."
Mr. Walden was pale.
"And now, tell me!" Bill firmed his grip. "Where is he?"
The old cat opened his trembling lips. "I-I've no-o idea..."
At this moment, the three men around him drew their guns and pressed them on the old cat's chest.
"One bullet for one more wrong answer!" Bill hissed threateningly. "Or worse, I will lose my sensitive self-control. One question, with one answer. We know everything."
"Yes, yes," Chorizo said. "You knew from the outset that you had a blackmailing letter in your bag."
Stump gave him with his gun a harder pressure. "That means you lied."
"And you knew where the letter came from," Kinski added before Bill would scream again.
But the lizard commanded himself yet. "And we want to know who give you the letter."
Mr. Walden cried hoarsely when Bill lifted him up again. "I hate liars!"
"B-but... I..."
"Deny and you will regret it bitterly!"
The postman gave a pleading look to the sky, then he wailed.
"I – I.... I had to do it. Otherwise, they had killed me."
Bill put him on his feet again and looked at him closely. "Who? Who is he?"
He hesitated.
"WHO?!"
The old cat swallowed heavily before he opened his trembling lips.
"A-Alister McNelly."
"Alister McNelly?" Stump asked with surprise. "The owner of the roadrunner ranch?"
"That old moneybag?" Kinski rubbed his forehead. "Why should he have an interest to kidnap someone for money?"
Bill took the cat closer. "If that is a bad joke of you..."
"No, no, no. It was he, or more one of his assistants. I know him. He was with him sometimes. And he threatened if I speak, he would..."
"Okay, okay, I can imagine," Bill cut him off. "I know his reputation. He hangs every roadrunner stealer on his land. Is that all or, did your old brain forget something else?"
"N-oo, that's all."
Bill added his pulling. "Would be the best for you. Otherwise, you will spend your pension as a doormat for my shoes!"
With that, he threw him on the ground. Usually Bill had thrashed him for pleasure, but this time, there was no time.
"McNelly's ranch is a few miles away. How long do you think do we need?"
Stump thought about it. "Maybe a quarter of an hour - if we are fast."
Bill's glance wandered to Kinski.
"How long until midnight?"
Kinski took out his watch and opened it. "We have still a half hour."