A/N: Based on the Riverworld novels by Philip Jose Farmer. Waking up on a new world along with everyone who has ever lived can be a shock; more for some than others. A short look at that world through the eyes of someone other than the main characters of the books.

Bad Blood

Harland McCoy awoke, staring at a blue sky. He was thinking what a beautiful Kentucky day it was going to be when he sat up suddenly and felt his chest. It was smooth, without any hair. It also didn't have a bullet hole, which was the last thing he remembered before he died.

Or did he just pass out? It didn't matter, he still didn't have any hole in his chest.

He didn't have any clothes on either. Ultimately a modest man, he started to panic until he noticed there were a lot of people sleeping around him with out any clothes on either.

Naked.

He stood up, still not knowing where he was. He had been in the woods when he was shot. As he was fading out he remembered a few family members running after the shooter before things went black. Now he was standing by a great river, with a whole bunch of sleeping people. A few were beginning to wake up.

Naked.

It bothered Harland a lot. His folk weren't fancy, but they were taught to keep their clothes on. He looked away to focus his attention away from the people. He saw a large stone mushroom nearby, and across the river he could just make out what looked like another. They were in a valley or gorge, but he didn't recognize it. His gaze slowly drifted back to the people, and he noticed for the first time none of them had hair.

And they were naked.

He felt something against his leg, and saw that there was a smooth metal barrel strapped to his wrist. He played with it and saw that the top screwed off; inside were some bowls, empty. Maybe for vittles later. In fact, it pretty well matched the one that was on top of the mushroom rock. He was the first to wake up it seemed, so it must have been there already. With the unclimbable mountains behind, and flat shore in either direction there was no place for someone to have gone.

As the shock began to wear off, Harland looked around, concentrating on faces. Nobody looked familiar; most were looking around like he had done and a few were beginning to stand as well. He began to walk toward the river, and dipped his toe in the water. It was cold, but not like when the snow melted in winter. He dipped his hand in the water and tasted it; it seemed clean. He didn't see any fish at the shore, but the water looked deeper in the middle and there might be some hiding there; he'd have to look to make a fishing pole later. He turned to walk back to the group when he heard a voice call out.

"Harland?"

Harland had to look to see where the voice was coming from, and then do a double take before he recognized the person. Without any red hair to show, he had passed over the man at first glance.

"Owen? Owen Hatfield?" He wasn't a friend, but a familiar face in a crowd of unknowns was as close as he was going to get for now. He advanced and shook hands with the man. "Glad to see someone that aint a stranger."

"Likewise. Where do you figure we are? Wait, aint you dead?"

Harland poked himself in the stomach. "Don't feel like it. How'd you know I's dead?" Out of the corner of his eye he saw a man walking around the mushroom stone.

"They done buried you two years ago. Roseanna saw 'em do it. She left flowers on your grave" Owen said respectfully.

"Mighty decent of her. Wait, if I's dead maybe you is too. What's the last thing you remember?"

"Well," thought Owen "I was riding a horse. The thing threw me and..."

"And what?"

"I don't 'member anything after that. Maybe I hit my head."

"Maybe you died."

Owen rubbed his head. "If we died, then is the Heaven? 'Cause it don't look like Hell."

"Maybe the boss'll show up in a bit and we can ask 'im" Harland stated, but before he could continue there was a mighty flash and roar of thunder at the mushroom stone. Harland looked over just in time to see a charred body fall to the ground beside the stone. He ran over to the site, but there was nothing to be done for the man. Harland touched the stone but found it cool to the touch.

"Owen, give me a boost up" he asked his partner.

Owen obliged, and Harland crawled to the top of the stone. There were indentations placed around the top, with one of the barrels in the middle. He picked up the barrel and felt that it was heavier than his. He unscrewed the top and looked inside to find the bowls had food in them. With a whoop he jumped down beside Owen, the dead man now temporarily forgotten.

"Vittles! Try a bowl, Owen" he said as he handed a bowl of some type of vegetables over. Others gathered as he handed around the other bowls, trying a little bit of something that looked and tasted like chicken soup. "It's good" he said after chewing and swallowing.

Owen swallowed and handed the bowl to someone else. "I rekon that's the feeding trough; we put our barrels up there and they get filled when the lightning comes down. Mine was good, but I'd rather have pig."

Harland stopped dead. "Pig?"

"Sure," Owen said "I like pig better than anything else."

"Is that why your family stole our pig?"

Owen Hatfield gave a level stare at Harland McCoy. "That was our pig, and you know it. Even the judge said so."

"Ha! The judge was a Hatfield, he weren't gonna say anything different! Probably a thief too..." Harland started before Owen hit him in the head with his barrel. Harland fell back, hitting his head on the mushroom stone, landing on the ground with a thud. While a few of the people held Owen, someone examined Harland and pronounced him dead.

Later that day, at noon and evening the mushroom stone recharged any containers that were placed on top. People began to refer to the containers as grails, and the stone as the grailstone. Owen was not allowed to eat as punishment; nothing else could be organized on short notice short of killing him too. No one wanted to do that, having enough death for the day.

The next day at sunrise several people materialized on the ground by the grailstone, probably repeating the process of the previous day. The man who had been electrocuted didn't return, but some strangers appeared and Harland McCoy as well. Owen was at the water's edge considering how to make a raft when Harland came up behind him and repeatedly struck him in the head with his grail, until his lifeless body lay in the shallow water. Harland was seized, his grail taken, and he sat while being guarded by several people.

"Blood calls out for blood" Harland explained.

"It's no excuse; our past lives are just that and everyone starts over with a clean slate here" the informal leader of the group lectured. "As long as you two keep showing up here, we'll sit you down until you play nice."

"Gonna take a looooong time" Harland predicted.

The leader took in his surroundings. "I don't think that will be a problem."

The End

A/N: In the Riverworld series, when people were reborn on the banks of the great river their physical infirmities were healed. But most retained their old habits and ways of thinking, even if it had no relevance to the situation they found themselves in; this is an example of two fictional people from famous feuding families who show that old ways die hard.