Chapter Four
Duster and a Gun: Reaper
Gregory Blackman
Deserves Another
I struck a match and let the flame linger a moment before it fell from my hand onto the bone dry wooden floor quickly spread into a fiery blaze of the shack. Built by those who would see their disease spread across the land, it was a beacon for the demonic, a place where they would gorge themselves on the helpless victims ensnared by their deceit. Soon, it would be nothing more than a charred reminder of the evils that once stirred there.
I should’ve enjoyed the sight more than I seemed to; after all, it was my entire reason for being. This wasn’t the victory I had in mind. It was the Abaddon I sought, not some geezer and his child sidekick, however worthwhile it may have been at the time. It had fled, no doubt aware of my arrival, and his trail was getting colder with every second I wasted in their company.
This small victory would have to do. “What’s your name, old man?” I asked. “What brought you to this place?”
“My name… well, my name is,” began the old man, mumbling “I don’t rightly remember… it’s been so very long.”
“How long has it been?”
“I suppose… if I knew that, I’d be able to remember my own name,” the old man said, dumbfounded. “I do remember seeing others come and go… the beasts… they… kept the cellar stuffed with victims of all different stock. They fed us… kept us from killing one another in an act of mercy… all to feed the needs of their ungodly kind.”
“Where are they?”
“The big one came by a day ago,” the old man said with a slight delay, “and tore up everyone except the boy and me… only because the others tried to stop him.”
“Who were these others?”
“The dark ones that serve,” he continued. “He tore them up sumthin’ fierce, as well. Then all of a sudden he was gone… and replaced by the savior we see in front of us.”
“I’m no savior.”
“Call it what you want, good sir,” he said, “but we would’ve died in that place, of that I’m certain.”
“What of the boy?” I asked in attempt to change the subject. “Does he have a name he cannot remember?”
The boy stared back at us, refusing to say a single word. At first, I thought he was hopeful, but I’d come to realize he was in shock, his life thought forfeit just moments ago.
“Now that one I do know,” the old man said proudly. “His name’s Billy—Billy Godwin, isn’t that right, boy?”
Billy nodded in agreement, but remained tightlipped about his encounters with the supernatural. It was a common reaction, one I’ve seen far too often. He would one day speak of what’d happened to him, but only on his terms, after enough time had passed for the scars to heal.
“What becomes of us now, good sir?” the old man asked. “The boy was taken with a group of others, three nights ago. I remember hearing them speak of their town, due west, not more than two hundred miles away. Perhaps we could go there… see ourselves once more as the proper citizens we once were—.”
“I reckon that you’re free to do as you wish,” I said, looking off to the horizon. “As for myself, I’m going to resume my hunt… and the two of you can go back to the lives that were taken from you… if they still exist. I’ve got a demon to kill… and I doubt either of you’d much like to join me.”
“Y-you…,” the old man stuttered. “You’re not escorting us to the nearest village?”
“No.”
“That’s not right… you can’t do this,” he pleaded. “How can you do this?”
“I do it because I can… believe me, old man, it is better this way.”
“Have you no heart?” he asked, grabbing onto my sleeve. “I… I know who you are! I know what you are!”
“You know nothing of what you speak.”
“I may be a bumbling geezer that can’t even remember his own name,” he said, “but I do remember some of the old ways. I’ve heard the name… we all have. The lone warriors that protect men from the darkness… the ones who fight for those that cannot—.
A coughing fit overtook him and he dropped to his knees in spasms. My heart went out to the old man, but I had a mission to complete, and these two would only be a hindrance in the scheme of things. For as much as I wanted to help them, they would have to fend for themselves.
The old man was sick, there was no denying that. The real question though, was, could he survive without the dark ones caustic care anymore.
“Get your hands off me!” he shouted, shoving me away “My family tree harkens back to the day of the great cataclysm… it’s a story that’s been passed down through the generations… from my pappy’s pappy and his pappy’s pappy… ”
“I get it.” I groaned.
“I remember what happened!” the old man said with his fingers drilled into his temples. “I remember the oath your people took. You’re a disgrace to their legacy!”
“Now we’re getting somewhere. We agree on something…”
“He’s a joker, too!” the old man scowled. “I’ve never met a reaper before… and now I’m glad you’re the first. I don’t think my dried up heart can take another blow like this.”
“Do you know why we’re called reapers?” I asked with fists clenched. “It’s because nothing but death follows us. You think I’m some kind of savoir? Well, a day under my protection will change your perception of that one. Everyone that’s spent any time with me has come to regret that decision… and I don’t see that changing anytime soon. So, yes, old man, you should be glad that I’m the first reaper you’ve ever met. Let us hope I’m your last, as well.”
I turned from my unlikely companions and began to walk back towards the ridge where Betsy was tied and waiting desperately for my arrival. An evil aura drenched this land and Betsy looked around nervously, as if she could feel it rising from the ground.
I didn’t look back. I couldn’t look back. I was on the verge of breaking down and granting them safe passage through the valley, but it would’ve lost me the Abaddon’s trail, my whole reason for being out here in the first place. I felt for the old man and his young friend, but there wasn’t anything I could do to help them.
I could hear the old man wheezing and panting on his way over. He staggered and he almost fell over several times before he caught up with me. He dropped to his knees and clawed at my duster, begging and pleading for me to have a change of heart.
“Don’t do it for me, reaper,” the old man began. “God knows I wouldn’t want to be indebted to you anymore, do it for the boy, who’ll surely die out here without your protection.”
“I’m listening,” I said with regret. “Say what you really mean.”
“I can feel death’s embrace,” he admitted. “Its hands around my neck, it won’t be long now, reaper, and I’ll leave this boy alone in the world… you’ll leave this boy alone in the world.”
I wanted to hit the old man, to knock some sense into his feeble mind but he was right. I couldn’t leave a young boy to face certain death alone.
“Fine,” I relented. “Go get the kid… you two can ride the horse.”
“Thank you, sir,” the old man said. “You’ve saved this boy’s life.”
“And be quick about it. We’ve got a long road ahead of us.”