Edit: Hello there anyone and everyone who is reading this! It's Martina Ross, I'm back with a new username! All right, so you clicked on this and probably think this might be an interesting story, right? Well, there's something I would like to tell you all:
I wrote this story back in 2014 after reading a disturbing fanfiction that involved Artie getting killed and Jim crashing the train in grief. (I have no idea why I let myself read that, lol). The author is no longer on, so I decided to make my own fanfiction loosely based off theirs. So the part in italics belongs to BKJ Sorceress, technically. I just re-phrased it. Also, I am going to go through this story and edit, if not re-write it slightly. Because, I need to be honest with you, I wrote this when I was MUCH younger and had a very limited and somewhat unrealistic view of 1870s America, ha! I also promise the story shall make more sense and read better...that is, I'll try! Anyway, feel free to continue reading!
The train sped faster, closer and closer to the cliff. It was a sheer drop, and the remaining tracks were slick with rainwater. James West did not care. How could he live on without his partner, his best friend for years? What was living without Artemus Gordon, the master of disguise, the brilliant scientist, the best friend, closer to a brother? And now, he was dead. Really dead.
Jim's heart beat faster as the train came closer to the cliff, the awful images flashing through his head once again.
He braved the flames as he raced though the burning town, the women and children all dead. But the worst sight had been when he saw Artie, lying on the floor, his white face twisted in pain and fear, blood all over him. He had been shot, stabbed, whipped...he couldn't name the rest.
But the worst part had been when he held him in his arms. Artie was looking at him, as though he could preform a miracle. He remembered Artie's fingers touching his jacket, his voice raspy, weak, and barely audible. "Jim," he said, "Help...me...please."
Tears came into his eyes, but he only bit his lip. James West almost never cried. He had always won over that urge, no matter how hard it was. The only time he had done that was when he thought his partner had died after being shot in the back by a pistolero. He had cried, but only in secret. He never let that part of his grief show. But that man wasn't Artemus Gordon. It had been a look-alike. The real Artemus Gordon had been locked inside Galliano's hacienda. He had escaped and saved Jim's life. Jim couldn't believe what he had seen. He thought he was dreaming. For the next 24 hours he was in deep shock. He'd never forgotten that terrible feeling that washed over him the moment he saw his "partner" sprawled dead on the ground.
But his partner had been alive, and Jim had been hoping and praying he would never have to go through that again.
Tears flowed from his eyes when he saw Artemus looking at him in that way. "Jim," he rasped, "Go now. You are in danger. Lextriss..."
And with that, he slumped back, dead.
Jim buried his face into his partner's chest, sobbing loudly. He didn't care if anyone saw him. He was in too much grief. This wasn't a pistolero look-alike who was now dead in his arms. It was really Artie.
"No! Artie! No, Artemus, please, don't go!" he shouted.
Finally, he rose, gently picking up his partner's body, carrying him away from the burning town, covering him with a blanket, leading him away on his horse, a plot for revenge forming in his mind.
….
Jim leapt onto his horse, racing him hard, rage shaking his feverish body. He knew where he was going. And no one was going to stop him.
He rode as fast as his stallion would take him. He leaped off him and ran into the house...the one Lextriss had reserved for his own.
Jim flew the door open. "Lextriss!"
The murderous Englishman was nowhere in sight. Jim tore the house down, looking for him. He wrecked the downstairs, searched even the smallest places, and raced upstairs, throwing things over the balcony as he madly made his way through he long, narrow hall. Finally, he raced to the bedchamber.
The blonde, bearded man had his back turned as he sat and read. He stared into the flames from time to time, probably priding himself in all the destruction he had done. He never once turned around.
Jim could no longer just stand there and watch Artie's murderer enjoy himself. Grabbing his gun, he shot at Lextriss, ruthlessly, until he finally fell over, also bloody and dead.
….
The Wanderer chugged along the rails as Jim clutched the urn that contained Artie's ashes. He was to scatter them as he chugged along Green Glens. The grey dust blew along when he opened it, carried by the wind. Jim watched, tears blurring his vision.
Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He bolted to the front of the train, knocked out the engineer and his crew, and took control of the engine, forcing it over the cliff.
"See you soon, Artie." he whispered as the train went over, falling swiftly. "It won't be much longer now."
The train hit the ground, exploding. There was fire, smoke, and then blackness.
….
James West woke with a start and a stifled scream. Panting, he put a hand to his chest, willing his heartbeat to go back to normal. "What...happened?" he rasped. He put a hand to his head. He felt as though he had been dropped from a twenty foot cliff.
Jim suddenly jerked upward. "Oh no!" he exclaimed. "We crashed!"
He jumped up, bumping his foot on the wooden bed-frame.
"Ouch!" he exclaimed, clutching it. He looked down at the bandage on his ankle, scolding himself. He had injured it after his horse bumped into a tree a few days ago.
As he rubbed his sore ankle, he glanced around his room. "The train..it...didn't...crash? But that means...Artie! Is he alive?!"
He suddenly got up and raced into the living area of the car. "I've got to find Artie!" he exclaimed as he raced into the narrow room. "Artie! Artie!"
Jim glanced around the room fretfully.
No Artie.
Oh my God no! Jim spun around and headed to the stable car. The sudden opening of the door startled the horses. "Artie?"
He wasn't in the stable car, either. Jim searched the stalls, calling his name, with no answer except for a snort from his horse.
Jim rushed into the kitchen, hoping to see Artie making breakfast and morning coffee. But he wasn't there.
Jim began to panic, but kept on thinking. "Living room, stable, kitchen," he said, counting on his fingers as he spoke. "Now, if I were Artie, I'd be in my lab. Of course!"
Jim darted to the lab, expecting to find Artie working on one of his inventions. He thrust the door open.
"Artie?"
But Artemus wasn't there!
Jim was starting to worry. Maybe Artie's still sleeping. He raced over to the bedroom section of the car and lightly tapped on the door. "Artie? Are you awake?"
Not one groan was heard. Jim opened the door slowly, in case Artie didn't hear him. But Artie wasn't there.
Jim put a hand to his mouth in thought. Where on Earth was Artie? If he was out, why didn't he let Jim know?
I've got to get to the bottom of this, he thought.
So Jim checked the bathroom, the freight car, and even the engine itself. But Orrin, Alex, and Silas denied having any knowledge on the subject.
Jim finally plopped down onto the couch, perplexed. Why wouldn't Artie tell me this? Maybe he's left some clue.
Jim got up and searched the entire train again. But he didn't find anything, and he was beginning to get scared.
Finally, Jim decided to see of he had gone out to one of the towns. Getting up, he decided to dress, get some breakfast, and go out looking for him.
….
The town of Hollington was a medium sized town that the Wanderer was currently parked at. Jim saddled up his black stallion and rode off. It didn't take very long to reach the town. Jim halted at a nearby saloon and went inside.
"Good day, Mister," smiled the stout bartender with a black moustache. "What shall it be?"
"Sherry, please." said Jim as he tossed a coin onto the bar.
The bartender handed him a shot glass and Jim drank it down, eager to wash away the nightmare. "Sir, I was wondering if you could help me find a friend of mine."
"Well, who is this fella?" asked the bartender. "There are a lot of guys that come through here."
"His name is Artemus Gordon." Jim sat the glass down onto the bar. "He's tall, dark haired, brown-hazel eyed, late forties."
The bartender seemed to know, but said nothing. Sighing, Jim pulled out three dollar bills and handed them to the bartender, who immediately piped up. "Oh, of course. Yes, he was here, last night. He was to meet a Miss Laurette Aveniel."
"What for?" asked Jim. And why didn't he tell me?!
"It was for a secret meeting." replied the bartender, "they met here to discuss something about a Major Joseph Angelo."
"I see." said Jim slowly, "What happened then?"
"She never showed." said the bartender, "So Gordon got up and left. Where he went, I know not."
"Is there anymore you can tell me?"
"Nope."
"Well then, I guess I'll just have to find him myself." said Jim. "Thank you for your help, sir."
The bartender nodded as Jim walked outside. As he mounted his horse, he said, "If Artie isn't on the train, maybe someone's captured him. I'll ask the sheriff if he knows what's going on."
Jim then rode off, the nightmare flickering in the back of his mind. Little did he know that a man and a woman where watching him.
"He's gone to look for his partner." said the woman.
"Exactly what we want, Miss Raymond." said the man, "He thinks he'll find him. And I'm sure he will."
"But Mr. Lorette, if he finds him our plan will be ruined!" the woman exclaimed, her azure blue eyes dancing about nervously. "After all, isn't the idea to keep him until we get what we want?"
"Not quite, my dear," the man said, "You see, Mr. West will find his partner Artemus Gordon and try to get him out. But, when he finds him-"
"I get it!" Miss Raymond cut in, "When he finds his partner..."
Mr. Lorette nodded. "Yes, my dear. We will kill them both."
Miss Raymond gave a brief smile before she and Lorette climbed onto their mounts and took off after Jim, who rode on, unaware of the danger behind him.
Well, how was that? BTW I changed a few names because they sounded really awkward. (You wouldn't believe what goes through an obsessive fourteen year old girl's mind, trust me). Please, if you have time, leave a comment! It shall be greatly appreciated! If you like it, feel free to stay tuned! Note I shall most likely be deleting the following chapters and re-uploading them. Again, I am going to give this story the justice it deserves!
See you next chapter!
~Sandra