I picked up the tomahawk and walked in front of the saloon, gripping my revolver tight in my right hand, knuckles numb, and pushed the swiveling doors open, stepping into the darkness.
I entered the saloon, in quite high spirits to say the least, only to be welcomed with a swift kick in the groin and a heart punch to my cranium.
"Cheesy, you young fuck! How you been this week!? Get the fuck offa the floor, man, keep, rounds on me for this sissy-ass dog of a boy!"
I wheezed while Garren picked me up, lifting me from my armpit and steadying me against his shoulder.
"You gotta toughen up, son, how you gonna blow a load on that Erikson whore down the main street if you ain't got nothin' to shoot with! Eeee he he eheeh! Now come on now, sit down, kid. There's something I needs to tell ya."
I leaned against the bar, only by luck grabbing the brew slinged in my direction, with the bartender nodding away, twisting his big ol' stache and rubbing away endlessly on them glassware. I felt Old Garren squeeze my shoulder and pull me in closer.
"Now listen here, boy... I happen to know for a fact, and that is a fact indeed, that the Tsorokee have attacked the neighbouring town no longer than five hours ago, and if the rumors be true, they're heading our way next."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. The goddamn natives, again? It wasn't like working on the farm was a treat, trying to keep the cattle appraised with all them rednecks running down our heads each and every week, running off with a few and slaughtering some just for fun. It was some kinda twisted revenge, I thought, for our trains plowing through their lands and us herding our cow life inside their precious territory. But that was exactly what I couldna understand - how in the hell can they just claim a gi-gaa-ntic valley? Or a plain four miles wide? It just made no sense, but we we're hurtin' because of it anyway.
I downed my brew and waited anxiously to Garren for instructions, the seven other patrons listening in, fearing for their lives more than I did. Maybe if they got kicked in the testes as many times as I did, they'd have some iron in them as well.
"The thing is, we have literally no time to prepare. Ima guessing their scouts are already watching in, using some of them Oriental technologies from the liberated slaves from the train factories. Their telescopes are far better than ours, and with their abilities to listen to the ground and all that Mumbo Jumbo bullshit, along with probably being strung on God-knows-what smoked plants and spirit juices to increase their battle cries to the levels of berserkedness."
Garren took off his hat, cleaned it from pestilent dust as the automatic piano played in the background, sighing slow and deep before putting his big brim back on.
"It's the ten of us... versus a whole army of them. Now they tend to use those axes, bows and arrows and large knives used as spears, but we have the firepower here to subdue them until backup shall arriveby train. The next train, filled with Texas Guard, will arrive in five hours time. By then, we coulda been wiped out clean already. But we can win. We can defend our town, our home. And don't none of you fuckers try to get away, or you'll feel my cold hands on your sissy necks quicker than you can hear a whore fart on a holiday. Now, I’m going to tell you exactly how we could win this, and you’re gonna fucking listen well… So, first off…
After his strategic instructions, we all looked at each other, determined enough to try and pull through.
"Now go! Get set and fuck off! If you don't make it, try not to burn in Hell, but if you do, I'll see you back in the saloon after this is all over and done.... MOVE!"
I sat on the highest perch of the bordello, trying to hide myself from view, looking for any signs of entry for our foes. If they were coming on horseback, they sure weren't coming fast, there were no signs of dusting anywhere to be seen in the horizon. I could hear the railway cackle. The train was not far away now, and there were no enemies in sight. We just might make it. That's what I thought at least when the first stray arrow flew in from nowhere, piercing Daniel's throat on the opposing roof. I dropped down quick and backed up to the farthest reach of the roof, looking on for our assailants. That's when I saw them.
There could have been no more than seventy-five, maybe eighty Tsorokees approaching from the East, just after sundown, hidden in the shadows brought on by the yellow heat as it was blinding our vision with its last rays of the day. Smart motherfuckers, fuck. No horses in sight, nor gunpowder weaponry if I saw correctly, I took a deep breath, laying against the roof's fence, stood up and fired my revolvers, both until empty. Headshots with each round, our opposition had lost a lot of men in but moment. I ducked over the roof on the other side, landing on the wooden awning and rolling down onto the ground, dislocating my shoulder bone, just as I heard the tens of arrows hit the place where I had just been seconds ago. Lucky. The railway rattled again. Come on now, you Texan fucks, come save the day.
Holed up in the hotel, the firefight had taken too long. For a ten minutes or so, I had heard them scalp a few people and gorge some with spears - there weren't many of us left. I hoped Garren was still alright. No matter how much they called me a babyface, or a pussy, I still got the most pussy in this broke town and I was still the best fucking shot in the whole county area. I had offed at least thirty of the Tserokee Elite, but now I heard them rounding up and forcing themselves up the stairs of the hotel. I glanced outside, seeing that they hadn't left a watchman, idiots, pushed myself on the window sill, leaning backwards and readying myself for the fall. I aimed my gun just near the door, as I saw them busting in, shouting loudly in random Tserokee tongue.
"Geronimo to you too, cocksuckers."
I shot the wad of dynamite I had attahced to the wall next to the door, causing a massive explosion, similar to which I had onyl experienced in the quarry as a toddler only yay high, and the blast threw me out of the window, obliterating at least twenty off them fucks as I flew out and into the horse corral, splashing into the stagnant water, smelling like shit. I quickly got up, with my ears still ringing, feeling disoriented as I realized that there was no one left. The railway was rattling louder and louder, the Texans were only minutes away now, possibly already cocking their weapons to defend our outpost. That’s when I realized I was out of bullets, both for rifle and revolver, and I heard the bow string tighten behind me.
”No sudden movements, paleface. One you make now could be your last.”
I turned around slowly to face my attackers, only two of them left of the whole assailing group.
The one who was aiming at me was a giant, at least as tall as Quick Shot Buick from Cornerville, and at least three feet taller than myself, pointing the arrow slightly down.
”Now, paleface, you will tell me where your leader is. A defense this organised is nothing less than spectacular.”
The one talking was quite short in stature, but made up for it with a giant headwear, made of feathers and many other rocks and trinkets I didn’t recognize. A chief, possibly, the leader of this group – most definitely. I quickly glanced at the saloon, hoping for a rifle to be pointed out the door towards my assailants. The chief picked up on this immediately, fuck me.
”Oh, I see. Paleface, you have been of great assistance and fought valiantly. Do you have any last wishes?”
I could hear the train coming in, it couldn’t be very far anymore.
“Oh… I wish to settle this with a one-on-one battle with you, like warriors. Like real men without bows or guns or knives to hide behind.”
The chief glanced at me, taking out his own, large tomahawk. He was still brandishing a large knife in his hands, but he threw the axe between me and the large man, shouting some order in Tsorokee tongue.
“That meant “fight to the death” in your tongue, paleface. May the Buffalo run wild with you.”
The chief threw off his headwear and I ran to attack him, but the giant swung at me with a large sweep, knocking me in the chest and blowing the air out of myself. The chief ran into the saloon, and I could hear multiple gun shots ring inside. Garren!
I looked the big fucker straight in his eyes, and I started to run towards the rail tracks, the war attempt should be here any moment now! He couldn’t quite catch up to me as his large weight pushed him into the loose sand, and we emerged from the other side of the buildings, facing only a burning desert and a railroad, rattling and swinging as the train was about to arrive.
“Well, fucker, looks like this is it for you. When that train comes to a stop, you’ll be outta options and either bullet-fed or hanging from the saloon awning for as long as it takes you fuckers to rot!”
The tall giant smiled, for the first time speaking his mind.
“Oh… and what you makes think that train comes to stop here?”
Between his broken English and his attitude when he said it, I understood what he meant and looked into the direction of the locomotive. It was on flames. Still hurtling towards us with ridiculous speed, it was burning like a pyre on Ganta’s Day, with many of the soldiers hanging dead from the train windows, arrowed through and through. The train was gaining speed as it had been probably filled with an amount of coal that would almost make the pressure unbearable, causing it to puff onwards until there was no track left. It was approaching us at lightning speed.
“This is where I take your head, paleface. I shall use your nose as a token on my tomahawk!”
The giant sprang forwards, tripping me over and strangling me with his massive hands. I could not breathe and I could hear my neck bones crackle, almost caving in my throat, when I saw the train advancing, coming near us not ten seconds from now. As I was starting to lose it, I remembered Garren’s faithful trick, and proceeded to kick that Tsorokee motherfucker square in the balls.
I kicked as hard as I could, kneeing him deep, almost feeling his testes crumble beneath the hit, loosening his grip on my neck as I placed my feet on his stomach, curled my legs and pushed as hard as I could, like a mountain lion springing for its prey. The giant went flying not meters away from the track as the train approaches us. He fell straight in the middle of the railroad; hanging on to dear life after a ball-crumbling feat, trying to stand up when he realized it was too late. At the last possible second he turned his eyes to me, with a look that said “Save me”, but it was too late for that, motherfucking redneck piece of shit.
The train hit him with full speed, exploding him into pieces more efficiently than dynamite, with gibs flying around and blood painting the nearby building’s wall with a crimson pulp. I took a deep breath and ran back to the main street.
I emerged from between the buildings onto the main road, just to hear a terrible sound – the sound of death, gargling away in the saloon. I picked up my revolver, picking up a few loose rounds from Albert’s corpse next to the general store, when I saw it hurtled towards me. It was the only thing in my life that had ever made me sick to my stomach, not for the fact of what it was, or what it represented, but for who it was. It landed in the sand in the middle of the main street not a few feet from me.
It was Garren. Or his head, cut straight off. My father’s head was on the ground, dishonored by this savage motherfucker, flaunting around with his feathery, fairy headpiece. The rage inside me started building up. I had protected my father as per to his instructions, and I had single-handedly killed each and every one of those invading fucks because any other of those drunk fools couldn’t even aim properly and got pierced to death being the idiots they were. But I fought, and I devised, and I struggled to survive and to see my father, Garren Edwards once again in the saloon, and kicking down a brew or two with him, listening to all his amazing stories. But that would be no more. I saw the bartender’s body in the saloon’s doorway, dripping blood all over the floorboards.
“Paleface! There is only you, and there is only me! What will it be? Will you be sent to the Wolves across the stars, or will I be crowned amongst the Hawks above the winds! Come in, and we will find out!"
I looked at my father’s head lying on the ground, with an apparently silent expression, taunting me to fix this our way.
I picked up the tomahawk and walked in front of the saloon, gripping my revolver tight in my right hand, knuckles numb, and pushed the swiveling doors open, stepping into the darkness.
