Wild West Showdown

Part 1

Chief must've been tired of the trouble that Jimmy and I have a tendency to find, or Superman wanted a chance to save someone else for a change. Either way, Jimmy and I found ourselves on an abandoned desert highway.

"You know, Miss Lane," Jimmy spoke up. "I'm sorry that you were sent out here with me and not Mister Kent."

Clark... "What do you mean, Jimmy? I always enjoy our stories."

Jimmy smiled smugly, but focused o n the road. "I know Miss Lane, but I saw how your face fell when he paired you with me instead of Mr. Kent." You weren't supposed to see that! It is true; I was looking for a chance to spend some time alone with Clark.

"Jimmy!"

"I'm sorry, Miss Lane. But I couldn't help noticing that you two have become chummier in the past two years." I hope the Chief has not noticed. "Don't worry; I don't think Chief has caught on." In that moment the engine started smoking the alternator powered down. Now, I really wish Clark were here.

"What happened," Jimmy hysteric voice cracked.

"Look Jimmy there a town about two miles away they may have a mechanic."

Jimmy and I locked our luggage in the trunk as we walked the two-mile expanse towards town. A mechanic sat just outside the town limits. It looked like a rusty garage, and it had house connected to the shop. On the porch sat a man in blue overalls enjoying the noonday sun with a hound lying at his feet.

"You two stranded," the man asked.

"About two miles up the road," Jimmy replied. The mechanic of little words nodded and got two his feet.

"Check in with me tomorra," the mechanic noted, "I'll have it ready for ya." Jimmy acknowledged his request.

"We are going into town to get a couple of rooms," I announced.

Dry Gulch held the quaint beauty of a Wild West tourist trap. Every building looked like a back lot of a Hollywood studio. Jimmy led me down the street as we observed the practically empty seats. I could imagine the fun this town would have been in Wild West times. We came to the front of a broken down Dry Gulch Hotel, the paint was peeling, the window shades were dusty, but I had a feeling the inside would be a bit more updated.

"Dry Gulch Hotel," I chuckled. "I guess this will have to do."

Jimmy smirked, "I guess so. It's the only one in town."

"At least the town's peaceful enough," I commented. We took a moment to look around, "Almost too peaceful." I miss the restless streets of Metropolis, people always having places to be and people to yell at for no reason at all. Maybe finding a reason to see Superman, or sharing lunch with a certain reporter.

"What did you expect, Miss Lane? Desperadoes shooting up the place?" Three gunshots answered Jimmy's joke. I jumped out of my skin as my eyes focus on a rascal shooting at another man's feet.

"Come on, you old coyote, dance," The blackguard demanded.

"Come on," I grabbed Jimmy's arm and dragged him with me to get a better look. The group that had surrounded the inappropriate display of power didn't exactly cheer, but they didn't stop it either. Their smiles and eyes were all the man needed to continue the older cowboy's humiliation.

"Put some life into it," the bully barked.

The older cowboy took a brief second to catch his breath. "I'm doin' all right," the man gasped. "But them bullets is bouncin' off my corns." My heart broke for the poor man, his breathing was shallow, he looked devastated, and now a Mexican was laughing at him.

"Is very funny," the Mexican, exclaimed. "Bullet stepping on his corns." He looked to the gunslinger for confirmation but met with cold unimpressed blue eyes.

The gunslingers tone suggested for the Mexican to challenge him, "What's funny?'

"Nothing. It is very sad altogether," the man cowered. Why aren't these two standing up for themselves? This is America and the 19th century!

I straightened my shoulders ready to take a stand when Jimmy beat me to the punch. "I don't think it's very funny either," he claimed. Man, this Cub Reporter has guts. In seconds the crowd dispersed leaving Jimmy to stand on his own. The gunslinger strutted his bow legs over to us, six shooter still in hand and pointed at Jimmy's feet. Everything about him screamed "Bully" for his all black outfit to his rugged mug, and the way his eyes and voice narrowed in trapping you.

"What did you say, stranger?" His tone was low with a slight gravel.

Jimmy's courage wavered, "Did I say something?"

Guess it is up to me. "He said it's not very funny. And I agree with him." He narrowed that nasty gaze on me as he gave me a slow lingering glance over. I tried to hide my shiver of disgust. Only two people in this world are ever welcome to look at me like that, Clark Kent and, if I can ever catch his eye long enough, Superman!

"Ma'am, the code of the West don't allow me to go around shooting up pretty gals like you." Uck, I'd rather you shoot me. "But a real healthy male critter like this..."

"I think I just lost my health," Jimmy hastened. The man pulled the trigger at Jimmy's feet.

"You can't do that to him," I defended.

"That's right you can't!" Jimmy bucked up.

"Next time it's gonna be your head."

Stay strong, Jimmy... "On the other hand, uh, what's done is done, I always say." Oh Jimmy.

"Yeah, that's more like it," the gunman turned to me again and adjusted his hat. His manner finally kicked in, "Ma'am, allow me to introduce myself. My name's Gunner Flinch," Figures, "Fastest gunman in the west."

"When's the next train for the East," Jimmy spoke again.

I stood a little taller, doing my best to show him I was neither intimidated or interested, "I'm Lois Lane, and this is Jimmy Olsen. We're on our way to cover the annual rodeo at Big Springs, and our car broke down. Until it's fixed tomorrow, you're not going to get rid of us." A little too much, Lois, he seems a little too pleased with that information.

A smile spread across his ugly mug, he leaned in a little closer, and a potent stench of whiskey overwhelmed my nose. "Well, ma'am, I don't really aim to get rid of you." He dared to reach out and touch the collar of my jacket. You snake, wait until Clark Kent hears about you! Where is Clark when I need him? I wished I could growl, but I took it and prayed that it would go away soon. "But the Dude here, he's different. I don't rightly cotton to his attitude." Now he addressed Jimmy again directly, "Stranger, you've got until sundown to get out of this town."

Apparently that put a fire in the Cub reporter's belly, "Who you calling a Dude? And who are you telling to get out of town!?"

Gunner calmly replied, "You."

"Have you got anything to back them words up, Mister?"

"Just these here two guns. And I got ten notches on each one of 'em." Gross, a real killer was flirting with me?

"Well... I guess that answers my question."

"Come on, Jim," I jumped in. "Uh, I don't like the atmosphere around here." I directed that right to Gunner's face.

Instead of taking the hint, he acted as if he were doing us a favor, "I'll just ignore that kind of a remark, ma'am, and say it's been real nice meeting you, huh?" NO, it hasn't! "And Dude? Don't forget: Out of town by sundown."

Even with the barrel of a six-shooter poking his chest Jimmy mustard-ed up some gumption. "Look! I'll go when I'm good and ready." The sun glinted of the silver barrel, "But... I think I'll be ready by then."

"Uh-huh. And you get any ideas that I'm not top gun in these parts just ask somebody on Boot Hill, huh?" Jimmy questioned him. "Yeah, but you won't be getting no answers. You see, Boot Hill is the town cemetery." That's it, we're out of here. I pulled Jimmy with me again. I kicked myself for my curiosity getting us in trouble... again. We could've been in our rooms relaxing, but instead I waltzed us into the middle of a death threat. Now I know why Chief and Superman probably conspired to send us away. This was supposed to be a stress free, fun and easy story.

I laid on my simple floral sheets thinking on the events of this morning. I could be chasing down hot scoop on a crime boss in Metropolis, hunting down Superman for a quote or even a dodging a Chief rampage by hiding out in Clark's office. Instead I am in the middle of Nowhere, America fending off advances from an egotistical gunslinger. Now I also have to worry about someone taking Jimmy's life prematurely.

JIMMY! Last time I saw him he wanted to buy some clothing to fit in better. He is a silly boy and he asks for more trouble than he is really worth. Gunshots rang in the distance forcing my feet to move faster hoping to find, "Jim!" The cub reporter gave me a questioning look, "that shot. For a minute, I-"

"It must be Gunner practicing."

I finally took a good look at the boy; a cowboy hat, a maroon shirt, and baby blue vest frankly made him look ridiculous. "What are you trying to prove with that getup?"

"He called me a Dude, and I aim to show him how wrong he is." I rolled my eyes.

"But, Jim, he's armed. And all those notches. Each one represents someone he's killed in a gunfight."

"But aside from that, what's he got that don't?"

Question of the day, "Nothing. And he doesn't need it!"

"I wish you wouldn't put it quite that way." He humbled himself. "Anyway, I got until sundown, so, uh, let's go eat."

I shrugged, "Okay. But please don't start anything." He agreed leading me up the road to the cafe. It was a quaint little shop with a sweet looking manager polishing glasses behind the bar. I didn't realize quite how hungry I'd become until my senses picked up a hint of bacon in the air. I could eat the whole pig if given the chance.

But my appetite turned sour when I heard a familiar voice, "Alright read 'em and weep boys... Uh uh, don't even bother to read 'em." I can feel his sleazy pride more then I could see it. I wish I had dreamed this morning up but I didn't. My stomach wished to revolt at the sound of his voice. "Hate to tell you this boys but I have five bullets, five little aces."

Why that cheating scum- "In Mexico a man would be killed for having five aces," The Mexican boldly pointed out.

Gunner beady eyes narrowed on the man, "What did you say Pedro?"

Quickly trying to swallow his words, "I said, in Mexico a man would be thrilled to have five aces." Gunner seemed to be mildly content with the pathetic cover up, but put his gun on the table and challenged his companions to test him. Both of their eyes averted his gaze, but someone did speak up.

"I think you were cheated." JIMMY!

"Well now look at the dude," Gunner grinned making his slimy way toward us. I elbowed the boy and gave him a look that could only be interpreted as anger. You promised, James Olsen. You almost deserve what is coming to you. "Might glad to see you went and bought them fancy duds."

Jimmy mistook the cowboy's sarcasm for a genuine compliment. "Do you like 'em?"

"Sure do. Hate to see a man die unless he is properly outfitted."

"You leave him alone," I finally interjected.

Gunner gave me another once over, taking in my outfit change. "My, my ma'am you're sure excitable. Yeah, but maybe you're right? Maybe it's too early in the day for a killin'? Pedro, get him out of here, I want something to look forward too at sundown." Pedro pulled out his gun and gave Jimmy gesture to move along.

"You come with me, no?"

"I come with you, yes!" I watched Jimmy move towards the doors.

"Jimmy," I called as I tried to follow but I got snagged by the boa constrictor of Dry Gulch.

"Now ma'am," he whispered.

"What are you going to do with him?" I felt myself starting to get desperate.

"I wouldn't worry about him, least wise not yet." I felt Gunner's hand rub across my back as he pulled me into his side. "Why don't you and me sorta... talk this over."

That is it! The heel of my new boot dug into his toes, "NO!" I screamed but his hold on me was tighter than I expected, but a commotion outside distracted Gunner's advances. Jimmy had wrapped Pedro in his own poncho, but Gunner's trigger finger acted quick.

"If you want something done right you have to do it yourself," Gunner muttered. "Get moving stranger." I didn't know what was happening or how to stop it. Before I could process through my fear for Jimmy and my own disgust for this whole day Jimmy was being led up the road with Gunner's pistol in his back. Phone... I've got to phone Clark. He'll know what to do.

"Please operator, try to get that call through. Call me back as soon call me back as soon as possible." Now it was just a waiting game. Pedro found me outside the phone booth. He looked tired, but he had a job to do.

"I thought you'd like to know that the young man is in jail," he explained.

"In jail? What did he do?"

"What did any of us do? With Gunner it does not matter," he defended.

"Pedro, why do you and Sagebrush put up with that conceited bully?" That is the nicest way I could say that.

Pedro shrugged, "If we don't put up with him he gets very mad, and when he gets very mad mmhhh," he hummed. The phone rang and I jumped to answer it.

"Yes, please put him on," I begged.

"Hello Lois, you sound excited. What's the matter?" Oh Clark, just to hear your voice is wonderful.

"Clark, we're in trouble," I blurted. "Jimmy's in jail and going to be shot at sundown."

"Lois, I'm very busy. If you want to play a joke try someone else," Clark sighed.

"I'm not joking," I demanded. "Our car broke down and we're stuck in a place called Dry Gulch. I know it sounds crazy, but there's a gunslinger in town that thinks he's Jesse James or somebody, and he's gunning for Jimmy!"

"Tell him to go on a diet, he'll be harder to hit."

"This is no joking matter," I cried. "Besides putting Jimmy in jail, this character's been making goo-goo eyes at me." Just saying out loud made me feel cheap, but something in Clark's voice changed.

"He's been doing what," Clark barked. "Now that's different, I'll be right out." He hung up. I smiled to myself as I leaned against phone booth doors. I don't know how he is going to get here, but I hope that he gets here quickly. Gunner needs to meet a real man. I felt safer knowing that Clark was on his way, but I still wanted to stay out of Gunner's line of fire.