By Scott Jackson
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Across the mountain tops the sun
barely peeked out to begin the day on a cloudy morning. I was the first one
awake to make us some breakfast. My brother and I were camping on our way to
collect a bounty. After a few minutes of cooking some bacon, I kicked my
brother’s boot while he was still laying down. “Come on Jeb, you’re gonna miss
out on some good bacon.”
Jeb moved around a bit, then stayed on
his side away from me. “I’m guessing the horses will be happy to try some for
the road.”
Maybe a half hour later we were both
riding to our destination: the town of Johnsonville. “Hey Jeb, do you remember
anything about this place we are going to?”
“Besides cheap broads and bad alcohol,
nothing really.” We both burst out a hardy laugh.
“Well remember, we are here to capture
and bring back the bounty alive. Not dead,” I explained. “Goes by the name of
Deputy Albert Smith, he stands about 4 foot high, in fancy clothes. He’s a
deputy from another town that has gone silent or outlaw.” We both laughed after
the word outlaw was said. I remembered just being twelve years old when my baby brother Jeb was born. He ended up being the
best brother I ever had.
“It sure is nice out with no sun blaring down on us while
riding. It’s been a bit of a rarity lately. Usually, it’s nothing but sun until
winter hits,” Jeb said with Johnsonville now within sight. We both passed by
what looked like a guy crawling toward town slowly. Looking back after passing
him, that guy’s face looked messed up and faded pale. “That was weird.”
“Yeah. You know, we’ve been collecting a few bounties
already with success, and less bloodshed than others have before us. How about
we try to keep it that way here?” I asked Jeb to try to not be trigger happy.
Once in town, we set our horses outside the tavern. We thought
maybe checking there would give us a lead on our bounty. My brother went to the
outhouse around the back of the tavern to drop a shit. Inside, I found a table
to sit at after ordering a few drinks. While I was waiting for my brother, the
former Deputy Smith came up to me cracking an attitude, acting like this was
his town. And he was absolutely drunk off his ass. Considering he was about two
feet shorter than me, imagine how much I should have been laughing my ass off
at him.
“Well, well, well. If it ain’t the infamous Johnathan
Spears. Thinking you can come into town and do as you please. Where’s that
brother of yours at?” The deputy laughed up a storm, then pulled out his gun
badly aiming at my head. “Now listen, listen here. I’m going to give you to the
count of five to get out of town and leave me be.”
Behind the deputy, Jeb picked up a spittoon and slowly approached
him from behind. I stood up slowly holding my hands in the air.
“One… two… three… four…”
Do you know the handy thing about bounties? You can bring
‘em alive or dead as a tombstone. As I stood up and grabbed my revolver, my
brother came up from behind him and knocked him out with the spittoon. It left
a dent in the spittoon, but it didn’t matter to us; we got our man. We tied up
the former deputy explaining to the bartender and a few patrons that we were
after a bounty on this guy.
Outside the tavern I draped the tied-up Deputy Smith across
the backside of my horse. Then me and my brother saw the crawling guy from
earlier. He just walked right pass Jeb and attacked Deputy Smith by biting his
shoulder. The deputy screamed in pain as blood was coming out.
“What the hell?” I shouted as I kicked this guy away from
the deputy. “Stay away from our bounty, unless you want a bullet in the gut?”
This pale guy stumbled toward me moaning with some of the deputy’s
blood dripping from his mouth.
“I warned you.” I shot the son-of-a-bitch in the gut, and
he went down. People can be crazy out here. As we got on our horses, I swear I
thought I heard that guy I shot moaning again.
We headed out of Johnsonville to a few towns over, Pine
Hill, to collect the bounty. We knew if we were lucky, we would get to Pine
Hill by afternoon, so we made a stop along the way. I checked on the deputy. He
was complaining about the bite he got. I guess he had any right to be; it was a
gusher of a wound now. I tried to tie a piece of cloth around the shoulder to
stop the bleeding. I doubted it would work; he wouldn’t make it. We continued
onward to Pine Hill, hoping to get there and get to a doctor in time.
As we approached Pine Hill, we were greeted by a small
posse of about six men just outside the edge of town. I noticed the shine in
the sheriff’s badge glaring in the sunlight along with his bright red hair. He
was the first to greet us as we slowed down our horses.
“Good afternoon, Sheriff. Is there a problem?” I asked him.
“That all depends,” he answered back to me.
“On what?” I responded back to the sheriff.
“Are you the varmint that shot up and snatched my deputy
from Johnsonville?” the sheriff then asked me.
I began laughing, as I looked at my brother and around
checking my surroundings. “News must travel fast. We didn’t shoot anything up,
but I got your deputy that had a bounty on him. Which last I heard, was made by
you, Sheriff Rod.”
The other members of the posse start talking among
themselves as I hopped off the horse and grabbed that deputy. “Well, here he
is. And now where is my collection for the bounty?” I asked.
The sheriff looked back at one of his men. “Doc!”
One guy walked up to the sheriff.
“Check on the deputy,” the sheriff instructed him, as the
guy checked the face and then a pulse of the deputy. The gentleman looked back
to the sheriff and shook his head.
“He was wanted alive for questioning, not dead.”
“Hey, I can’t help if the guy got bit after capture. Now
then, where’s the reward?” I then demand from them.
“There ain’t gonna be a reward. We’re taking you in,” the
sheriff told me.
I start giggling as I reached for my revolver and said,
“You see, that is a mistake you’ll regret.”
Gunfire started as I ran over to take cover behind a waist-high
rock. “Where you at, Jeb? Could use your help, brother,” I asked looking around
for my partner, who had disappeared somehow. I heard gunfire hit the rock I was
behind and around me. I waited for a break in the fire to peek around and
return the fire. As I turned a bit around the rock my hand got shot, then I got
slugged in the face, then I was down and out.
An hour later a young man with freckles and a fresh set of
clothes walked into the sheriff’s office. “Hello, Sheriff. Just got back into
town, and wow! What happened here?” The youngster asked me while looking at the
beaten and bleeding man in the jail cell.
“Quite a bit since you left last week, partner.” I got up
from my desk with a badge and gun in hand, handing it to this youngster. “As
far as this mess, we got word days ago of a crazed lunatic who claimed to be a
bounty hunter in the area.”
“YOU CAN’T KEEP ME HERE! MY BROTHER WILL GET ME OUT OF HERE
IN NO TIME!” The outlaw shouted at me, then spit in my direction. What a
shame.
“This guy also claims to have a brother that’s his partner
in collecting bounties.” We both sat down at our respective desks. “He is one
Johnathan Spears, thirty-five years old, known for showing up and shooting any
and everything in sight he doesn’t like. His younger brother, was one Jeb
Spears. Jeb died five years ago from being hanged from killing some kids who
looked at him funny and called him names.”
This youngster just shook his head in bewilderment. “Our
deputy, now former, went over to Johnsonville to get some medicine a day after
you left. Just this morning Deputy Smith came across Spear over in that town
and got shot up, hog tied and brought over here.” I grabbed a file folder and
brought it over to the youngster. “This Jacob, is one of those cases that get
weirder and weirder.”
“What do you mean by weirder?” Sheriff Jacob asked me as I
was now looking out the window toward the doctor’s and undertaker’s offices
that were next to each other across and down the way.
“Well, after we got that lying lunatic over there caged up,
our former deputy that had two gunshots in him, who was dead as a doornail,
just started moving around. He was taken to Doc Martin’s to get someone to look
at him, but somehow, he bit someone while being taken over there.”
“Bit?” Jacob asked me in confusion.
“Yep.” I walked back to sit briefly at my desk. “Smith also
has bite marks on his shoulder. The wound was turning a weird color.” I got up
from the desk grabbing my hat and adjusting the badge. “I’m going over to check
in on the doc before I head back home. Do you want to tag along?”
As we started walking down to the doctor’s office, we heard
some screaming.
“Get your gun ready Jacob, just in case.”
We started running and rushed into the doctor’s
office.
About the Author
Scott Jackson is a native of Illinois where he lives with his girlfriend and four cats. He loves video games, musicals, comic books, 80s and 90s nostalgia, Doctor Who, and overall, a good story to enjoy. After finally reaching his limits with retail work, he decided to re-invent himself by going back to school to pursue his dream of becoming a writer and teacher. In his spare time, he picks up extra roles in films, works with a local community theatre, and works on his next novels.