Read Reaper (#1, Duster and a Gun) Page 2


  Chapter Two

  Duster and a Gun: Reaper

  Gregory Blackman

  Not Like Them

  It was a desolate but beautiful land although that beauty seemed to be disappearing at an alarming rate. The intense sun that hung low was hidden today, masked behind dark grey cloud fingers that raked across the sky and converged on the wasteland before me.

  The mountain landscape was littered with mines of every design. Gold, silver, nickel, copper—you name it—they extracted it from the ground. The Industrial Revolution, the people called it. It was revolting to me. I couldn’t even remember the last time I saw an automobile in the southern states, yet for those that traveled north, to the green states, they’d find a land full of them. There was a growing divide in this country, one getting larger by the day. Those with power and money used it to suppress, successfully, those they viewed as beneath them. And everyone was beneath them.

  The same evil still stalked the land as in the old days, only now it had become harder to tell the dark from the light. The monsters cleansed from this realm by those of my order were replaced by men, more devious and veiled than those before.

  I rode Betsy along dusty trails over the plains, guided by the scroll towards the last known location of the monster I sought. It was a perilous journey, out of the reach of the common man, to the feeding den perched in the mountains that overlooked the Arizona desert.

  The Abaddon I hunted was a nasty creature, born of the hellfire that raged through Hell’s final circle. The beast towered above men and its teeth rivaled the size of its claws, serrated and razor-sharp. The monster’s broad wingspan allowed it to cast a shadow over its prey—the children of God, driven like lambs to the slaughter, their screams nothing more than a symphony of despair.

  It could rip a man to shreds in seconds, a village in minutes and, if left unchecked, eventually the entire world. Very few even knew of its existence and even less could stop it. It was the perfect killing machine, bred to destroy and pillage to its heart content.

  I’d been hunting the creature since I first awoke from my two year blackout. I had no idea if it had the knowledge I sought, but it was somehow involved with my amnesia and I needed to press on and seize this opportunity.

  It must’ve been a hundred miles before fatigue got the better of me. I could tell Betsy needed a rest, too, and decided to catch a couple hours sleep. Where I was headed, I’d need all my wits about me because walking through the doors of a feeding den was a good way to cut one’s life short.

  The dream world was not a friendly place for me; filled with strangers that would do me harm and every life I had taken, and done so for reasons other than survival. It mattered not if those that were slain were not of this world. I never asked for this war, yet I continued with it.

  I was awoken by the butt end of a rifle and before I could catch my breath, two attackers had descended upon me. With my gun removed from its holster and unable to shake the men off, I took what they could give for several minutes.

  I know when I’ve been beaten, and this wasn’t one of those times. The bandits grew tired of beating a defenseless man, and they let up They wanted my money, not my life.

  “Twenty bucks,” said one of the men that had been beating me. “We did all this work for twenty goddamn dollars? Yer lucky we don’t kill ya, buddy.”

  The bandit stuffed the cash into his wide chaps and made his way back to his horse. He looked like he wanted to finish me off.

  “We’ll take ‘is gun and horse,” the other one said. “That’ll double our take.”

  “I think you mean my take,” another bandit still on a horse said. “You two will take what I give ya, and I won’t hear another word about it.”

  Their leader was built like an ox and covered in a whiskery beard that continued down the many folds of his thick neck and chest.

  “Yer lucky we don’t kill ya, pal,” the leader said. “I’ve killed men for much less than this.”

  “Yeah,” I replied, on my knees with blood running down my brow. “I bet you have.”

  The other bandits got on their horses; Betsy tied to them, an unwilling participant in their scheme. Without my gun, I would be unable to stop them, or so they thought.

  My head was pounding and far removed from rational thinking. I had one thing up my sleeve, however, something the bandits never could’ve seen coming. They didn’t know who I was. They didn’t know what I was capable of. .

  “It takes a big man to steal a man’s horse and gun while he sleeps,” I said with a spit in the bandit’s direction. “I bet a man like you shows all the women just how big and strong he is.”

  “Bite yer tongue, you mangy dog!” bellowed the leader, rearing his horse onto its hind legs. “Speak yer filth one more time and I’ll see that tongue cut from yer throat.”

  I had him now. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I should bite my tongue...” I needed to tread lightly, antagonize the man too much and I’d likely get a bullet in the brain. I had to play this shrewdly, or I wouldn’t be playing for much longer.

  “Hold up, boys,” said the leader to his men. “I reckon this one’s fixin’ to learn a real hard lesson.”

  The man dismounted and stalked towards me. I could see the gleam in his eyes; he enjoyed his work, and command over life and death itself.

  “Tell me,” he began with a pistol pressed to my forehead. “Was it worth it?”

  “Was what worth it?”

  “The need to be such a little pecker,” the leader said as he cocked the hammer. “I hope it did, because it just cost ya —.”

  With a fistful of sand to his eyes, I grabbed the pistol from the bandit’s hand and used his body as a shield. Luckily, the hired help were terrible shots and their bullets either went whizzing past my head or into my shield.

  It took two shots from their leader’s pistol to drop the other men to the ground. I let their leader drop, full of holes from the bullets meant for me.

  “You’ll never...,” the leader said with a cough, “you’ll never… get away with this.”

  “That’s an interesting notion,” I said, kicking at his heels. “I do believe I have already.”

  The crack of all those shots could be heard far across the plains, echoing off the mountains and back towards us. The bandits lay motionless as I rummaged through their belongings. I wasn’t like these thieves, I kept telling myself. They were thoughts that gave me little comfort as I looted their pockets.

  A few coppers were all these men had to their names. They shouldn’t have to die like this, but the country was filled with it a sea of migrant workers and little in the way of protection. These vultures were all too happy to take what wasn’t theirs.

  “I wouldn’t have thought you’d to stoop to their level,” said a voice from behind me. “I shouldn’t be surprised at the depths you’ve sunk, especially after all that’s happened to you in the last few years.”

  I recognized the voice. He was the only immortal that has never tried to kill me, but it was a precarious line I walked with him, he could end me with ease.

  “Is there no one better to stalk?” I asked in agitation. “If you’ve got any useful information to divulge, you’d best spit it out. Or is it your intention to make me mad.”

  “Always on the defensive,” he said mockingly, “afraid to let anyone close, even with a helping hand. I’m not your enemy, Horace, and you’d best watch your tone when in my presence. I don’t give second chances.”

  He stood a foot taller than me with broad shoulders. His tousled blonde hair and porcelain white suit fluttered in the breeze as the sand stirred around our feet. He was a snake-oil salesmen if there ever was one, offering deceit and half-truths in order to serve his heavenly purposes. It wasn’t that he was the most powerful being I’ve ever met that unnerved me, it was that he was impossible to read, an enigma.

  “I didn’t ask for your help,” I said, “but if you’re offering assistance, I could hardly refuse, now coul
d I?”

  “Not news of your past,” the man said. “That information you must discover yourself. I come to offer a glimpse into the future… should you continue on this perilous path you walk.”

  “I get it,” I replied. “I’m supposed to bow down to your sage advice.”

  “All right, you’ve made yourself perfectly clear,” he said with a tinge of regret in his voice, “I’ll leave you to your thoughts, as unpleasant as they may be.”

  I turned my back on him and he was gone. Perhaps he did have some information that may have prove useful, but what he offered was not done out of the kindness of his heart. No, what he provided would have set me towards a different path—his path, where no man should walk.

  I unsaddled their horses and with a pat on the rear I sent them out into the vast plains to find their way. I didn’t need them, Betsy was more than enough for my purposes, this way they had a chance.

  I packed the few belongings that I had taken from the bandits into Betsy’s saddlebag and hoisted myself up. She had been startled by the experience. Her heart was racing so I stroked her mane soothingly and lead us onward.

  “Goodbye, my angelic old friend,” I said to the wind. “I hope to never see you again, Gabriel.”