The Wild Wild West
Night of the Late Artemus
Chapter 2: The Funeral
Rain poured as the funeral came to a close. Jim buried his head in his hands as more tears threatened to pour freely from his eyes. "Oh, Artie.." He moaned, a tear running down his cheek, the horrid memory of that mornings tragedy still played over an over in his mind. It had been a small funeral, and not many people had shone up, since hardly no one in the town or in the surrounding towns even knew them. The few people who attended started to stream solemnly out the back church doors, a few placing sympathetic hands on Jim's shoulder as they passed. One in particular stayed longer and Jim raised his head to see who it was.
"I'm so sorry, West. He was a good agent." Richardson sympathized. "I'm sorry it had to end that way."
"It's nothing you did, Richardson." Jim replied, wiping away the tears that had strayed from his eyes. "Fate played its course. Nothing more."
"Do you know who did it?" Richardson asked, sitting down next to Jim, who sat forward on the pew, wringing his hands.
Jim sighed.
"No. There were no leads. Artie couldn't tell me. I had been too late." Jim cupped his head in his hands once more as more tears threatened to run free.
"I,m so sorry, James." Was all Richardson could think of saying. He patted Jim on the back, then got up and left, leaving Jim alone in the church, staring sadly at the casket in front of him. He was alone, or so it had seemed. Jim watched from the corner of his eye as a lanky figure stood and slunk out the back door.
"I'll get him Artie." Jim said to the casket before him. "He has to pay for what he's done."
Jim got up and stood beside the window next to the door, following the mysterious man with his eyes. Minding to keep his distance, Jim slipped out the church door, stealthily pursuing the man who he knew was going to report to that one man he wanted to see the most. Deadly Denis.
The rain poured down from the sky, drenching the secret service agent and turning the dirt streets into mud. James West followed the man from a distance, passing several mulling citizens with umbrellas, watching as the scraggly man turn down a dark alley. The faintly lit alley led down between a dark morgue and an old broken down far, which has a smashed window and a loose hanging swing door which hung raggedly by one hinge. Boards were nailed to all the openings, allowing no one to enter.
James West slunk stealthily around the corner of the morgue, but stopped in his tracks, startled to see the alley empty. Jim glanced around, studying the dark passage before taking his next step, pistol drawn and cocked. There was no sign of the man, which was becoming unnerving to the secret service agent in the dank silence of the alley. He paused and listened, but couldn't hear anything odd over the sound of rain hitting the ground and carriages rumbling and splashing down the nearby street.
Taking cautious steps forward, Jim slid his hand searchingly over the edifice blocking the end of the narrow alleyway, making it apparent that it was indeed a dead end. It was a brick wall, and seeing no other way the man could have escaped, concluded that there must have been a hidden passage somewhere. His hands roved the worn bricks,searching for a door or secret entrance. Jim was startled when one of the bricks slid inward at his touch. A sudden mechanical click beneath him made Jim stand erect.
Suddenly the ground beneath him gave way and he plunged downwards. Thinking fast as the ground collapsed, Jim pulled in his arms and elbows as he landed with a thud and slid down a mining shaft. The wind got knocked out of his lungs as he landed on his back on a cold, hard concrete floor. Catching his breath his propped himself up with a wince, taking in the darkness of his surroundings. It seemed to be the basement of a building, but it appeared to be empty, save an abundance of dust webs and all seemed quiet.
A chill ran up Jim's spine at the low throaty cackle that came from behind him. Jim's head snapped to look over his shoulder, and he quickly scrambled to his feet. A tall figure stood ominously in the shadows, the silhouette watching the secret service agent with an evil look of amusement.
Jim stood, his gun cocked and leveled with the shadowed figure.
"Denis, I presume?" Jim asked in his usual unaffected tone. Though inside he was growing nervous.
The shadow grinned, his teeth becoming alight as they reflected the light that filtered in from above, where the trap door still lay open. The man cackled again, taking a long striding step into the light.
"James west," The man grinned. "How good of you to drop it. We weren't expecting you." The tall man had a scar on his right cheek and wore the fancy attire of a shiny green smoking jacket over a yellow under shirt. Jim watched as the man raised his right hand, snapping his fingers. Jim noted the broken shackle that bound his wrist. At the snap of his fingers, another figure stepped from the shadows. Jim glared at the man he had been following. The man Jim assumed was Denis continued. "I was told you hadn't found any leads. Apparently our spy was wrong." He shot a meaningful glance at the spy and he shrunk back, a look of fear eminent of his features.
Jim looked questioningly at the tall man. "Our?" He questioned.
The man ignored his question, continuing casually. "What a shame it would have been if you hadn't fallen for my little trap. It also would have been very unbecoming of you not to notice such an obvious clue. But I am amazed. Amazed at how gullible you really are, Mr West. Falling into my trap like this. It completely goes against all I have heard of "The Great James West". But tell me, are you hear to arrest me, or perhaps is it more, how should I say, more...personal." He grinned and eagerly leaned foreword to look Jim in the eye.
"Tell me Mr. West, was his death slow and painful, or was it fast and instant. I really must know."
At that Jim lunged forward to punch the man but a rifle point stopped him. Jim twisted to see three more henchmen behind him all handling guns. Denis grinned, chuckling as he studied the secret service agents expression.
"I see." He stated plainly, maintaining his unnerving grin. Denis spun around, lifting his hands as his grin widened, laughing victoriously.
"What a glorious day it is for us." The man said turning as if to talk to someone, but no one was there. "We have taken our revenge!" Denis yelled.
"Artemus Gordon is Dead." He grinned evilly, accentuating the word 'dead' with much pleasure. "Now my friend," he turned, staring at the man only he could see. "We shall move on. Deadly Denis has made his move and has succeeded!"
'This man is a nut' Jim thought watching the disturbing scene unravel.
"He must plan his next move. Yes, he, the new and improved, will dispose of this muddling James West!"
'New and improved?' Jim repeated thoughtfully. 'If he's the new and improved, is Denis really his name or has he changed his title? Who is he really? If I ever get out of this, Ill have to ask Arti...'
Before Jim could finish his thought, the crazed man before him presented a long sharp throwing knife from a hidden sheath by his side and advanced toward the agent. Thinking fast, Jim whirled around, grabbed the rifle point that had been against his back, seized the gunman and spun him around. A strangled cry emanated from the man and he went limp in Jim's arms. Jim let go of him, letting him slump to the floor, the curved knife protruding from his back. Jim quickly reached down and picked up the man's rife, swinging it around behind him just in time to clobber an advancing henchman. A pair of strong hands came up from behind Jim, grabbing his throat as he turned around. Jim struggled against the man's air-blocking grip, giving the man a swift kick in his upper midsection. The mans grip released as he slump to the ground trying to regain his breath.
Jim looked behind him. Denis was gone. 'The coward must have retreated.' Jim looked up at the mine shaft, weighing his options. The man behind him began to moan as he started to regain his senses. The man propped himself up on his elbow, gingerly holding the side of his aching head. He looked around as his blurred vision began to clear. He cursed under his breath, realizing that the secret service agent had escaped.
Jim pulled himself back up through the trapped door. He stood and dusted himself off casually. The rain seemed to be subsiding and he was concerned for his friend, the horrid memory of the previous morning being still fresh in his mind. He walked out of the dark alley, stopping to watch as the trap door behind him closed, then walked down the main road. The hospital was just around the corner and Jim wanted to see how his friend and partner was fairing. "I'm coming Artie." Jim smiled.
Hey! I'm back from vacation! Well, hope you enjoyed the chapter! It was a long time coming, but here it is. Hope you enjoyed. Please keep in mind that this is my first fanfic.