Notches

The saloon was bustling with noise. People didn't realise the red-scarfed man walk in, those who did kept their mouths shut and their hands on their pistols.
'Barkeep, one whiskey.' He asked brusquely.
His voice silenced most of the room but he seemed unfazed. He took his shot of whiskey down and slammed it on the bar. He belched then with a smile said: 'So, where's MacReady?'
The saloon lay dead quiet and the populace engaged scared looks to each other. 'Huh, well? No one willing to talk? No?' He sighed loudly. 'Come on, Susie, I know you were with him not too long ago!' He pointed accusingly at a strumpet coming down the staircase, stopped halfway. He smiled like a snake at her. He span quickly to address the saloon. 'Come on, boys 'n' girls! I've helped you guys plently, help me out!'
'You done nuthin' for us, son. Nuthin' but trouble.' A large, weather-beaten man stood up, wearing a duster coat with a Stetson hat and mutton chops.
'E-e-excuse me, old man?' The red-scarfed man's eye lid twitched.
'Ye get outta town or are we gon' take this outside?'
The red-scarfed man scoffed.
'Bugs, you don't know who you're messing with...' A man sitting down next to him whispered. 'That's Red, Texas Red.'
'THANK YOU! Someone who knows who I am and has some respect!'
'BOY, IF YO-' The man was cut short as a bullet found its path in his eye.
'You people... are not being... very nice. Just tell me where he is.' Red said in a hushed voice.
'RED, GET OUT HERE!' A raspy voice came from outside.
'I'll continue this with you guys... later.' He giggled.

Red pushed the saloon doors open and saw an angry grey haired man in a pale blue, worn suit. The night's winds were coming in, and the vegetation was rustling violently and storm clouds threatened to spill.
'YOU SHOOT SOMEONE IN THERE?' The old man questioned, his golden star badge catching the lantern light.
'Now, now, now, now. Shhhhh, shhh! It's not whether I shot him, it's WHY I shot him!" Texas Red argued.
'THIS 'S THE LAST STRAW, WE SETTLE THIS HERE AND NOW.'
'Oh, for fucks sake, Martin. I'm not in the mood.'
'I AIN'T IN THE MOOD, BOY, DON'T YOU MESS ME 'BOUT.'
Texas Red approached the sheriff until they were face to face.
'Martin. Go. Come on.' He smiled warmly. 'Go on.'
'NAH, I AIN'T GOIN-'
Texas Red emptied the cylinder of his revolver into Martin's chest and pushed him to the floor.
'I warned ya, Martin.' Red said apologetically, wiping blood from his face with his sleeve and swiping his knife across his gun, marking a notch in the side then sliding it back into his holster.
A crack of the heavens and moments later the skies let loose with its bombardment and Red stand there looking up and smiling as the sheriff's blood ran into the sand.

Fast as a drunk running from coyotes, Red had found MacReady's hiding place. He stood there for half an hour, until he came out of his hideout, yawning widely. The moment he laid eyes on Red, he fell backwards in fear. The outlaw approached methodically, his leather trousers, dusty at the bottom scraping the sand and he starts to load ammunition into his revolver from his brown jacket.
'L-listen Red, y-you got it a-all wrong, okay, me and the guys were gonna pay ya back, we ju-'His wind was cut off by a kick to the stomach. He fell backwards against the wooden floor of the room with a satisfying thud. 'Ughuh, Red, god damn it, listen to m- UGHUHHH' A fist to the face quietened him down.
'Where is my money, Ray?' Red said coldly.
Ray laughed and blood splattered on Red's face. Another punch made him cough in pain. 'WELL?'
'We thought yous was a nice guy! We thoughts you'd be nicer on us payin' ya back!'
'Yeah well, I'm gon' teach you what ya should think. *grunt*' Red kicked Ray in the face.
'Gah... heheh, cough, we used it, to bribe the lawmen, they comin' to get you Red, you got 'til sundown and then they're here.'
'Motherfucker!' Red kicked him in the jaw, sending him flailing backwards. 'Ye got the lawman on me? You think he can stop ME?' He thumped his chest. 'I should just put a fuckin' bullet in ya, but I won't? Know why? Hm? HEY, RAY? I'm talking to you, you son of a bitch.' Red grabbed hold of him. 'Remember my gun, eh?' He pressed it to Ray's forehead. 'F-FOURTEEN NOTCHES.' He pulled his face into a maniacal grin. Suddenly, the trigger pulled and Ray went limp. 'I... agh, God, Ray, you stupid bastard, look whatcha made me do, I didn't wanna shootcha in the face. Ach, I'm gonna haffa find ol' Joey.'

The day pressed on with its waves of heat scorching the warm sand, Red looked over the town. His town, or would be, when he took it over soon. He'd already killed the sheriff, that wouldn't go unnoticed especially with the lawmen coming into town for him, he'd already seen to the sheriff, from afar he spied and admired his work. The sheriff's body hang above the doorway to the saloon, crows pecking at his eyes and flesh. An old, black man, grizzled with age came walking up behind Red; he wore an ancient red shirt under denim overalls. Red turned to face him.
'Joe!' He smiled. 'You got my things ready? Y'know?'
'Yeah, boss.' His voice was gravely but submissive. 'Gots'em right 'ere.'
He planted a bag down on the ground and opened it, inside was two bundles of dynamite. Texas Red's face lit up with glee as they rushed to prepare their plan.
The shroud of darkness had taken its hold of the land and the foreboding whisper of the wind kept people inside, in the light, the warm. This didn't prevent Red, of course.
'What makes ya think this'll work, Red?' His companion questioned.
'Malik, how many lawmen come try take me before?' Red replied.
'I d-'
'Nuh nuh nuh, Malik, how many?'
'Thirteen.'
'Fourteen, actually! I forgot to mention I got rid of Martin.'
Malik seemed to show some remorse at that statement but it was quickly taken with a face of interest.
'D'you know how much they's sendin' this time?'
'No clue, Mally. Hopefully this'll be enough to deal with them.' He motioned the dynamite. ''less they bring a whole posse of 'em.'
'You never know, Red, they might, for you.'
'Considering my reputation, they might...'
'Yeah, you are a force to be reckoned with an-'
'Ri-Ri-Right, Malik! But that's beyond the point!' Red shouted with his eyes filled with excitement. Pausing for a moment, he retorted. 'Let's stick the boom here.' He gestured to either side of the road into town. They got quick to digging a small hovel to sit the dynamite in, once they were done, threading the fuse out and covering it with sand.
'Right, Mal, let's get moving, they should be comin' in 'morrow mornin'.'
Morning was a slow riser as the sun reared its gaze over the horizon later than usual. Red had taken a spot on a balcony to overlook the pass coming towards the town. The warm orange glow of the land filled him with hope as he took a deep breath, his mahogany hair blowing lightly in the spiteful wind. Dust was rising, would make it hard to see the approach of the lawmen. He thought back to earlier in his 'career'. His first kill... or kills... the first woman he ever loved and one who did not love him back. The night was relentless in its rainfall; it was that night that he and Irene parted. He begged her not to leave him, but another man had stolen her from him. He came across them together and couldn't bear the sight. He reached for his pistol and took both their lives. He fled soon after and headed south until he planted himself here, in this town: Tranley. He had to evade and kill numerous lawmen who hunted him after his murders, each one he took, he notched his pistol. It now numbered fourteen.
Riders approaching from the south, he placed his hat on his head and fumbled to light the fuse. Closer and closer, the riders rounded the curved road towards the town. The roar of the erupting road was deafening as dust and debris rose high in the sky. Red screamed in happiness, jumping up and down. He grabbed his holster belt and rushed to inspect his handiwork. The dust was clearing and as he approached his joy turned to fear quickly as two clicks rung out from behind him. He raised his hand slowly upwards.
'Keep still, boy, if you wanna live any longer.' A voice behind him spoke, spitting straight after.
'I don't believe we've met, sir.'
'Naaaah, we ain't. But I know exactly who you are, eh? Rick, looks like this is gonna be easier than we tho-.' A loud bang exploded behind him and sounds of struggle emerged as Red turned round to see two strangers attacking the lawmen, one had been shot and the other lawman was being wrestled on the floor by a muscular man.
'Fock are ye lookin' at, boyo?' A singsong Irish voice sounded from the stranger standing up.
Red stumbled through an alley and removed his pistol from his belt. The explosion had caused the town to fall into a commotion as iron rung clearly, bouncing off the hills. Poking his head around the edge of the building, it became more apparent what anarchy had ensued. Corpses and the wounded littered the streets as old grudges arose between families and gangs alike. No sign of the lawmen, they'd either been gunned down or had fanned out through the town. The rhythmic banging left a background ringing in Red's ears and he looked for a way out. Should probably head back up to Mal's hideout. He thought to himself. He had to find a way to make it across the road.
As he went to make a move across the street, a bullet took the hat straight off his head. A sharpshooter had him zeroed from a nearby roof; no way was he going that way unless he was sincerely looking for the reaper. There were men running across the road towards him with contempt in their eyes. Red loosed some shots towards them from over his cover. The bottle above him shattered, sending shards flying through the air. He reloaded his revolver with expert speed and fell back further down the alleyway. The men pursued and Red rapidly gunned down the first man, several men followed behind him. Red's eyes darted around, looking for a way out. Peeking round the corner and seeing the men aimed ready on his position, he skulked around the building; finding a doorway in the back of the building next to him, he entered and found a terrified looking barmaid behind a turned over table. At the sight of him, her look of fear turned to pure desperation as she tumbled over the table and tripped over the clutter on the floor.
'Woah, woah, woah!' Red rushed to grab a hold of her, trying to reassure her.
'GET OFF ME!' She screamed.
'Listen, I just need a place to wait for this to be over. I'll defend you, if need be, just let me stay in here.'
The woman seemed to ponder this for a second, a second too long, men rushed in from the back door, their shouts coming from the back room of the bar. Red rushed him and the woman upstairs and closed the door quietly. He could faintly make out speech through the floorboards.
'McEldry, this is nuts! We came for a simple bounty and it's a fuckin' warzone, boss!'
'Yeah, we di'n't sign up fo' this.'
'Quiet, boys.' This must have been the leader, Red gathered, probably of the guys sent to take him down. 'I think I heard myself somethin'.'
Red cursed to himself and moved as silently as he could. The woman followed sluggishly behind. He heard the boots of the men meeting the steps as they rose upwards towards him.
'What's the quickest way outta here?' Red whispered urgently to the woman.
She pointed quickly to a door across the dark room, light cracking through the edges.
'Listen... what's your name?'
'Abigail.'
'Abigail, darlin', you're either gonna stay here and let those guys have their way with you or you're gonna come with me. Ain't much a choice, is there?'
She nodded submissively and followed him quickly and silently across the room.
When Red broke out into the light, he noticed that the gunfire had stopped, that didn't mean the piling bodies hadn't. Carrion birds already circle above, waiting to dig into this gold mine. Searching for a way down from the balcony, he found a small wooden staircase. The sun was in full effect now, enhancing the putrid stench of the fresh corpses. A drunk came wandering out of a nearby storefront, bottle in one hand, gun in the other, sobbing quietly to himself.
'C'mon.' Red gestured to Abigail.
They scampered around the edge of the building into the shadow. He was intending to make his way back to the hideout, but with his new friend in tow, he was not sure what to do.
'We need to get outta here, got any friends around we could hide out with?'
'Most o' 'em are dead now, but we might be able to find something outsida town.'
''kay, okay, let's find some horses.'
'Another thing to add to your list o' crimes?' A voice that filled Red with dread said.
Red sighed and slowly turned around.
'McEldry is it? Nice to meet you.'
'We ain't got time for niceties.' A man stood in front of Red, bulkily built with a handlebar moustache across his face screaming authority. He had three men behind him who seemed to be his lackeys and showed faces of loyal dogs.
'There's always time for that with you guys. I got fourteen notches that tell me that you guys always got time for niceties.'
The man stepped forward quicker than Red expected and his carbine's stock made contact with Red's jaw.
'*cough*, Good hit *cough*.'
The boss' men grabbed Red and flurried numerous punches to his face and stomach.
'Tie 'im up boys.'
'But, boss, what 'bout the gal?'
McEldry stared the man in the eyes for some time and then looked away quickly and pulled Red upwards to lead him away.
Red noticed they had tied his hands at his front. Abigail's eyes were filled with helplessness as Red was torn away from her. Red saw his chance as the three men were heading towards Abigail. Red elbowed McEldry in the abdomen and then brought his bound hands down upon his face, dazing him and sending him sprawling backwards. Red pulled his boot knife out and sliced the rope with three swipes. The other men had just started to turn around as McEldry cried: 'Get that sum'bitch!' Red quickly dove for cover against the wall of the building as a volley of 44s tore past him. After a brief moment, he charged around the wall, plunging the knife into the first man and using him as a makeshift shield. He pulled the man's six-shooter from his hand and blindly fired the whole cylinder over the man's shoulder. A bullet ripped through another's shoulder. He saw the other fumbling to reload his weapon and Red made ready to finish him off. Suddenly, a sharp pain scorched his thigh. He looked down in agony as he saw McEldry plunging a hunting knife into his leg. Red swung his leg from the other side to make contact with McEldry's face, causing him to relinquish his grip of the knife and stunning him. Red fell to the floor with his previous victim falling atop him. The final lawman approached him slowly and walked slowly around Red, aiming Red's own engraved revolver at his head. The man kneeled next to Red and managed a smile with his grimy face. Red gripped the knife in his leg and attempted to pull it out.
'Give up, cowboy. Heh, all you've done is given me and McEldry there more of a reward for ourselves. You gon' hang anyw-.' Red could hear McEldry rustle to the right of him and groan in pain.
'S'alright, boss! He's done for, ain't that right, cowboy?'
Red lunged at the man with the hunting knife, who dodged it by falling backwards, but Red was now in range and the second attack caught him in the cheek, finding its path deep inside the man's cheek and sending him screaming in pain backwards. Red rose to his knees, trying to get up. He scrambled to get over to Abigail who had watched the ordeal with tears in her eyes. As he approached, with a shaking hand, she raised a revolver to face Red.
'Abigail, what's this?'
'Y-you're a monster.'
'Put that gun down 'fore ya hurt yourse-'
A loud bang. Abigail dropped the gun. Red looked down to see his wound but there was none. He looked back at Abigail and a red blotch soaked her clothing on her chest. Red reached out to catch her as she fell to the floor. From her throat came stifled gurgles as she choked on her own blood, tears welled in her eyes which were draining of life like the crimson from her wound. He lowered her head onto the floor and stood up slowly. He looked left into the alleyway and saw two men wearing strange olive clothing. They jogged over to him.
'Okay, boyo? Looked like ya needed a lil' bitta help there.' The Irish voice from earlier reached out to him. 'Didn't quite recognise ya before, I know you from them posters, the WANTED ones, you're Texas Red!'
Red cringed in pain as he stepped on his leg then replied. 'That'd be me, in the flesh.'
'We're here to take you, we need ya alive, so even if you ain't gonna come freely, you're not exactly in a fit state to debate.' The man's companion said, a smooth talking man, mercenary by the looks of it.
'More of you, eh?' Red smiled before coughing violently.
Sweat dripped down from Red's brow as he looked upwards. The sun slowly disappeared behind some clouds and before he could blink, he felt the rain coming down. The other two men looked upwards and Red revealed his pistol from behind him and his six gun flashed like lightning, the report rang loud and clear he fanned the hammer and emptied the gun within a split second. The outlaw slid his weapon back into his holster and sighed deeply. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. A sound behind him. Click. Red felt a burning pain in his chest and his vision blurred as he looked down. Blood welled from a wound in his chest, he fell against the wall, gasping. He made eye contact with McEldry, who was holding a smoking revolver. McEldry smiled with malice before pulling the trigger once again. The hammer fell but no bullet came. McEldry's smile faded as he threw the gun aside in anger. He reached downwards quickly into his boot and approached Red quickly, wielding a boot knife, rain shimmering and blade gleaming in the dim light of the alley. A battle cry sounded as McEldry cried in pain as a large flash came from behind him, he fell forwards towards Red, who fell to the floor on his back. McEldry turned back to face his attacker. It was Malik, in his small hands, he held a double-barrelled shotgun, and one barrel was smoking heavily. McEldry's back was bleeding profusely. Malik's face screwed up in ferocity as he fired the other barrel. The pellets pierced McEldry's head, sending chunks of it flying. His hulking mass slammed to the wet floor with a splosh. Malik ran over to Red.
'R-Red? C'mon, Red?' His breathing was frantic. 'C'mon let's getcha outta here.' Red's vision was fading and so was Malik's voice. Red knew the end was near and death would be the price of his actions.
3 months later
The rays of the sun penetrated the thin curtains of the room and a small grunt replied to its blessing. The room had a small fireplace in the corner the only light in the room, still crackling away. Adorning all the walls were trophies of game, the biggest being the elk's above the fireplace. The walls were wooden planks, faded with age and rotting in places. A figure removed the covers from themselves and sat up on the bed. They stretched and yawned before looking out of the window. The street was busy; horses' feet fell with a satisfying clop on the stone. People rushed about their business with urgency. The figure's stubbly face with sharp features looked confidently down. The door creaked behind him and someone hobbled in.
'Good night's sleep?' A familiar gravelly voice sounded from behind him.
The figure grunted in agreement.
'Great. 'cause that guy's ready for you, the ranger. He's stood in the square already.' The man walked over to the desk that had the man's gun belt on it. He inspected the gun, twenty notches along the left side of the barrel. He slotted it into the holster and took it over to the other man.
'Just be careful on this one, Red. This guy means trouble and he's not holding out with that pistol.'
'Malik, how many notches on my pistol?'
'Twen'y.'
'And this guy's gonna be twen'yone.'
'Just make it quick, don't want anythin' to happen to you, you's like a brother to me.'
'Yeah, yeah, yeah.' Red put on his gun belt and picked up his hat. He paused at the threshold of the door looking down at his hat.
'You know you could run.'
'No, this guy has the audacity to come find me; I'll answer him head on.' With that, he placed the hat on his head and stepped out of the door, into the sunlight.
Malik watched him walk away through the doorway. His jacket swaying violently in the strong wind, he seemed phantom-like as he fell further and further into the swirling sands into which he would find his home.