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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Western · #1213229
Cowboy Jed Winchester rides into town intent on revenge....
Jed Winchester rode into the small town of Nashton with one aim; revenge. It had been 7 months prior when The Scarlet Kid had left him for dead, after a confrontation in a bar. He hadn’t counted on Jed surviving the encounter; after all, not many people could survive 6 bullets. But he didn’t know Jed Winchester. He wasn’t the type of person to die when business still needed settling.
He saddled his horse at a tree and checked his colt. 6 bullets. He was going to give them all back- an eye for an eye. He peered gingerly around the desolate, dusty town, and noticed an old man sat on a fence smoking his pipe and slowly walked over. The old man peered at him cautiously; this town probably didn’t get strangers like Jed all too often.
“What can I do for ya sonny” he choked in a raspy, tobacco infested voice.
“I heard a young cowboy named The Scarlet Kid came here,” Jed answered, tipping his hat respectively. “A pretentious fellow with a red hat, you know where I might find him?” He said, while placing 3 gold coins on the fence.
The old man picked up the money and stared at it, without saying a word for a few seconds, then handed it back.
“He’s in the saloon across there.” He said, pointing to the place across the street named ‘Joes’.
Jed didn’t have to ask; obviously the people in this town disliked The Kid too. He would be doing them all a favour by putting a bullet right between the eyes and he had six with The Kid’s name on. He tipped his hat again respectively and paced across the street. He stopped outside the door; this was it. The moment he had waited 7 long months for. Was he ready? Or would The Kid get one over on him again? One thing he was sure of was, if he did, the Kid would make sure Jed was dead this time. Nobody ever gets a third chance. Enough questions, he decided, and swiftly entered.
The Saloon wasn’t half as dead as the town. An old drunk was dancing on the piano in the corner, while three others were looking on and clapping encouragingly. About a dozen more people were sat around on the various tables, but he couldn’t yet see the Kid. He walked forward to get a full view of the place. No Kid. He slumped at the bar dejectedly. Had he been lied to? By the young man he had beaten for information back at the last town, by the old man with the pipe?
Then he felt it press against the back of his neck. The cold barrel of a gun, he had felt it before.
“Some people don’t know when to give up” the voice behind him said arrogantly.
Was this the end?
“Looks like you got one over on me again Kid, but is this how you’re gonna kill me? I sure as hell didn’t come all this way to shoot you in the back.”
He felt the gun move away, and he sighed with relief. People like the Kid were unpredictable.
“I guess me and you got something to settle”. He heard footsteps walk slowly out the door.
The Kid had picked up a little bit of honor since they last met. He turned around. Faces all around the saloon stared at him questioningly. The atmosphere had dried up like a prune. They knew only one of them was walking back in the saloon alive. He figured they hoped it was him. He hastily exited, bracing himself for what was about to come.
The Kid was stood about 25 yards away, hands at his sides, posed for a draw.
“You ready to die old man” he shouted across.
If there was one thing Jed hated being called it was old man, especially by someone like The Kid. He stepped into position, so he and The Kid were facing each other directly about 20 yards apart.
“I aint old yet boy, and it aint me checking out today. I want you to know that when I’ve killed you, I’m taking that hat. It’s a nice hat, too nice for a corpse.”
“I guess we’ll see about that, I’m ready when you are. Three paces forward and then we fire.”
“You know its too bad kid. You got real talent, hell you could have killed me twice. It’s a real shame all that skill went to a woman murdering punk like you.”
The Kid didn’t respond. He simply made his first step. Jed followed suit instantly. His heart was beating a thousand times a second; he had never been in a draw he thought he could lose before. Both men made their second step. Everything around them ceased to exist anymore, for now all there was in the world was him and The Kid, two gunslingers with different codes of honor. Jed had never hurt a woman or a child and never intended to. The Scarlet Kid did it for fun. The fastest hand in the west apparently. Jed was about to test that. Both men made their third step.
The Kid was faster, Jed realised that straight away. In a flash he had fired his first shot before Jed had his gun all the way up. Unfortunately he was too fast this time, and the bullet whizzed past Jed’s right ear. Jed didn’t miss, his shot hitting The Kid square in the chest. The Kid stumbled backwards, his face white as a sheet with an expression of pure shock. He crumpled to the floor with a thud. Jed watched him for a few seconds, writhing in pain on the floor, legs twitching, gasping for his last few breaths of air. Jed slowly walked over, holstering his gun. The Kid stared at him, with tears in his eyes, blood seeping from his mouth, scarlet blood for The Scarlet Kid.
“Its too bad kid”.
He knelt down and took his hat from his head. He pulled out his gun again and aimed straight at The Kids head. An eye for an eye. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. He felt no pity. He caught another glimpse of himself in a window. It really was a nice hat.
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