Bounty Hunter

(Deana there is a tid bit of violence, but nothing compared to most my other fighting posts)

I walked through the open doorway that Randolph Debterson had gone through at the back of the bar. I looked down a small hallway where two closed and two open doorways stood against the hall’s walls. I heard movement and voices from the nearest room to the right. I drew Ole’ Sammy, my sixteen inch skinning knife, and peered slowly into the room. Another maid, this one quite the opposite from the girl in the bar room, stood over a basket filled with clothing. She cursed several times, apparently about something that Randolph had done.

I quickly pulled my head from the door way as she turned around and walked out of the room. She moved down the hallway away from me, continuing to curse.

I strolled quickly behind her and, with my free hand, covered her mouth. I then reached my knife arm around the front of her neck and pulled toward myself. I flexed my arm to constrict her neck. It was difficult to keep her large body mass under control, but luckily it didn’t take much longer before she fell unconscious. I laid the fat maid down easily and moved to the remaining open doorway at the end of the hallway.

I peered around the door way slowly after the fashion I had earlier. Sure enough the despicable dog was pacing around the room, probably waiting for the maid to return.

I considered my attack carefully. It was apparent that he had no weapons, and the walls had no conventional weapons, but I knew that I had to still put him down quickly or it would be like gettin’ stuck in a potato sack with a crazed cat. I remember him being very quick on his toes and being able to use various everyday materials for lethal weapons. The story is still fresh in my mind how he defeated a town militia with some simple farming equipment. Not to mention how he killed ole’ Barney, the town Sherriff, with nothin’ but a shot glass.

I pulled my head away from the doorway and recalled the events of Randolph’s long visit to my hometown. “A wolf in sheep’s clothin’, that’s what he is.” My temper grew as I recalled the faces of those “Sweet Boy Randy” had killed or permanently maimed. I just wish I had been there to do somethin’ about the whole thing.

I wasn’t there, though. No, the events were told to me in a letter from my brother. The tale was written on an invitation to a funeral for my niece. Boy, I was ready to rip his worthless guts out with my bare hands after seeing sweet Lily at her services. She was the gentlest, sweetest little thing to ever grace our town and that animal in that room took her precious life. I could feel my body burn with anger. “Time to put down this dog.”

I whipped around the corner and charged at Randy like a bull. He turned around slowly and passively, probably being accustomed to the sound of cows judging by the size of the recent maid. But his quick reflexes caught my thrusting knife, however, I caught him in an embrace and slammed him through the stucco wall.

We were both slightly disoriented, but I was not the shovel in that dig, so I was able to rise a bit faster than he. I used the time to grab my knife and run back to him.

The story my friends had relayed was not exaggerated, he was fast. As I jumped at him with my knife he threw a small stool in my path, bruising my knee and elbow. He then leaped up and grabbed a walking stick that sat in the corner of the room. He used it to exchange blows with my knife and gloved fist. I could feel some of the bones in my hand breaking, but I was gonna’ kill this mutt if it was the last thing I did. He stepped to my side and landed a good swing to my lower ribs. I didn’t let the blow go through for no reason though. I grabbed his weapon hand and then gripped his arm. While he attacked my snaring hand, I used my knife hand to land a flat smash to his jaw with a small knick with my knife. I then brought my knife back to try to get him in the neck, but only grazed his collar tissue after he launched his head back.

I released my grip on his arm after my broken hand ceased to function. I stumbled back over the stool he had thrown at me earlier and hit my butt on the floor. He fell back against the opposite wall tripping over a small center table.

We stared at each other, panting like two of hounds. I loved a good fight, it really made a hunt more satisfying. I tried to rise, but my ribs screamed with pain. I could tell that Randolph was having a hard time coping with the blow I had made to his head by the way he was trying to shake out of it.

I thought it was an appropriate time for a good Hunter Hunted dialogue. “So boy, I see that they let you out of that holy cage pin. Does it feel good to have blood on your hands again?” I drew a smile.

He spoke between heavy breaths. “Who… Who the heck are you?”

“Why… don’t you remember me? Cause I sure as fire and brimstone remember you.” He looked me over, but his face still reflected uncertainty. “Come on now, boy. Name’s Chrissy… Jasper Chrissy. You recognize that name dontcha’?”

Randy’s whole body loosened. “Jasper… Look I know why you’re here. And… and we need to talk about this. Fighting will not bring anyone back.”

I laughed. This kid is hilarious. “I didn’t come here to talk or to bring anyone back. I came here to kill you.” I stopped laughing. The blend of my memories and the pain from my ribs caused a huge surge of emotion to pass over me. Tears began to squeeze out of my tear ducts. “Why did you kill her Randolph? How could you have possibly killed that beautiful, precious little angel?” The dam in my mind broke and I let the tears fall hard and fast. I hid my face and tried to wipe away the tears. When I looked back Randy was crying hard as well.

“She was… she was my heart.” Randy stopped for a moment and looked up to the ceiling and then continued. “She… I… I never would have wanted anything to happen to her. Lily was… the first time I had ever felt love for anyone. I wanted her to be happy… She was so beautiful when she was happy. Nothing could make night-to-day or rain-to-sunshine like her smile. I would do ANYTHING just to see that smile.” He paused again and then looked down at me. His tears stopped. “I was going to ask her to marry me. I was going to forsake my oaths for her. I would lose my soul if it meant I could be with her for what time this life offered. She was worth a soul.”

I stared into his eyes. They displayed sincerity. I had seen deceit and desperation in the eyes of the animals I had collected bounty for, but his eyes were genuine. He really did love her. I did not have the strength to rise and kill him, but I had the strength to rise and help him up.

If there was one thing I had learned in the past, it was to have patience. I needed to think things out. Some screws weren’t tight. But one was very tight and that was that Randolph had loved Lily. I collected my hat and dusted off my trail coat. I gave Randolph what money I had to pay for the wall and the fat ladies time unconscious. I then holstered my knife and limped back to my faithful steed still standing outside the tavern.

As I left I thought about those folks that died or were hurt in my town fighting off the “Sweet Boy Randy”. I had always imagined him as a sneaky fox that appears beautiful, but steals the chickens. But now I realize that Randy is no fox, heck he ain’t a dog either. He is a wolf. And wolfs don’t kill members of their own pack, especially their mates.

I suspect I was after the wrong fox.

(The bounty hunter posts were created to give a bit of background on Randy. It was a joint effort by Luke and Myself. I hope no one minds that Jasper came and went.) 

...See ya later Cowboy.