"Alright Bill, that's good!" the reverend called.
Bill the drunk hobbled away from the fence which he to the amazement of Wayne had precariously stacked three empty bottles of whiskey. The Reverend then turned to face Wayne who was in his farm clothes.
"Alright, knock those down," the reverend ordered.
"You can't be serious…" Wayne muttered. "Like I said, I don't need training…"
"Your reflexes may be tough and you've had some fighting trained into you, but you got to learn how to fight with that whip. These men Savage hires may be stupid but a lot of them can shoot faster than a fly on honey."
Wayne sighed and lowered his head before lifting up. He took the whip off his waist and unraveled it. The reverend had procured the same one Wayne had used earlier figuring Wayne was going to need to use some type of weapon.
Smiling, Wayne flicked the whip three times.
CRACK!
CRACK!
CRACK!
Within a second, all the bottles were knocked down off the post. The one in the middle was broken. Wayne sighing looked at the reverend.
"That'll do?"
"No," the reverend snapped much to the surprise of Wayne. "You're too slow."
"Too slow?"
"Any decent experienced gunslinger if he was on the far side would've shot you by then. You got the reflexes, but you still haven't quite mastered that whip yet. Set them up again Bill!"
"Hold on," Wayne pointed to Bill who was sitting down draining a bottle of whiskey. "Bill's getting another one to replace the one I broke."
For the next few hours Wayne tried again and again. Yet for some reason the reverend wasn't satisfied. Every time he knocked the bottles over or broke them the reverend was always saying he was too slow. It also didn't help sometimes the reverend would shout "BANG! You're dead!" into Wayne's ear when he was in the middle of doing it. That seemed to only frustrate Wayne even more. He knew he was a competent fighter. It felt insulting that a preacher was critiquing his fighting methods.
Bill the drunk didn't seem to mind they were doing it over and over again. The more bottles Wayne broke the more whiskey he could drink. He was more worried they would run out soon and it wasn't even noon yet.
CRACK! WHOOSH! WHOOSH!
Wayne grunted annoyed. His whip had only managed to hit the first one this time and missed the second and the third.
"You're getting too into it now! Anger's good but it's not going to help your accuracy…"
"What do you know?" Wayne finally snapped.
"Enough to know if you don't want to shoot a gun you better get faster with that whip!"
Wayne sighed in frustration.
"Maybe this was a mistake…" he said angrily and began to walk away.
"Hold it…" the reverend ordered. Wayne turned around. The preacher folded his hands and began to pray something inaudible. He then looked up and tossed his hat on the ground and adjusted his coat so the pistol in his holster was visible. The reverend stared at the three bottles, focusing with one eye. Still his hands were at his side, the gun calmly sitting in its holster.
Then with sudden movement, he pulled out the gun and shot it three times…
BANG! BANG! BANG!
CRASH! CRASH! PLUNK!
Wayne stared in shock. Bill fell backward to get away from the bullets. The reverend had managed to pull out his gun and shoot all three bottles in less than half a second. It was unearthly, no impossible. But Wayne's eyes didn't deceive him. The reverend shot three shots and each hit a bottle. Well two did. The third bullet barely grazed the last bottle knocking it over instead of shattering it like the previous two.
The reverend however grunted annoyed. His hands were starting to shake now. With a pained expression he slid the gun shakily back into his holster.
"Not as young as I use to be…" the reverend muttered annoyed at himself. "Guess I don't have it in me anymore."
"Reverend Stiles!" a voice shouted.
The reverend and Wayne turned around to see Peter running up to them. He was on lookout to let them know if anyone from Desert Star got a little too close to their training area. They didn't want Judge Savage knowing what they were up to hence why they were on the outskirts in an area no one ever ventured near.
"The sheriff's coming!" Peter warned. "He heard the gun shots and is heading over here!"
Wayne didn't need a signal and ran, making sure to hide inside the reverend's own wagon. The horse neighed slightly annoyed but remained stationary. Not a moment too soon. Wayne could hear the spurs of the sheriff's boots echo in the field as he took some slow steps.
"Preacher…" Sheriff O'Hara's voice wheezed.
"Hello sheriff."
The sheriff looked at Peter.
"Hello Pete…"
"Peter!"
"Peter. What are you two doing out here?"
"Oh Peter and I decided to take a ride out on the outskirts. That's where we found Bill here. Had to shoot a couple of rounds to wake him up…"
As if taking the cue or because he was actually already drunk from the large amount of alcohol he already consumed earlier that morning, Bill began to stand up awkwardly.
"Mistah Savage think he owns this well Imma gonna take a piss on this…"
He began to take his pants down and start peeing where he stood.
"We're so glad you came here Sheriff. I think he would feel more comfortable having you escorted him back to the jail so he won't hurt himself."
The sheriff seemed to buy it and with annoyed grunt walked up to Bill.
"Get your pants on you idiot!" the sheriff ordered and began to drag Bill by the arm. "You're gonna have company in the cell next door. That Jonah Hex is still here…"
Wayne could hear the sheriff's voice go fainter and further along with the drunken complaints of Bill also fading away. Within a few moments they were out of earshot.
"Alright, all clear," the reverend said looking at his wagon. "You can come out now."
Wayne crawled out of the wagon.
"I don't see why we need to keep the sheriff out of the loop," Wayne muttered.
"Like I said, that badge limits what he can do. We'll eventually tell him when things start to go down. I think we've done enough practice here for today, let's head to the church. Peter can drive the wagon back."
Wayne followed the reverend still staring at him unsure as Peter passed them to drive the one horse wagon. The reverend didn't seem to notice that Wayne was staring at him or didn't mind at all. He just kept staring straight ahead, almost as if Wayne didn't exist. In no time they were inside the church and the Reverend was lighting some candles while producing a simple lunch in his own private small office. Wayne was standing, eating lunch as well in the office while looking around. This was the first time he actually had been in the office.
Due to the office barely being able to hold Peter and the reverend, Wayne had to sleep on the church floor last night. He didn't mind actually. It wasn't near as comfy as the Saunders' beds but it was at least warm and he wasn't sleeping in the dirt. The office itself seemed small. A bunk bed and two desks.
After they had finished eating the reverend bowed his head to thank the Lord for a bountiful meal and said a few quotes from the Bible before looking up.
"Is there something you want to ask, Mr. Wayne?" the reverend sighed.
"How does a preacher end up being an expert shooter?" Wayne asked suspiciously.
"If you're implying that I'm a fraud I have papers to prove I've been ordained. Besides you got the order mixed up. More like how a gunslinger becomes a preacher."
"Do tell," Wayne said in a calm tone. Somehow this tone had the right balance of not being too confrontational but at the same time intimidating. However the preacher didn't seem to care and just laughed.
"Before I was Reverend Stiles, I was known around the frontier and the west as 'Shootin' Stiles.' My daddy had a hut in Kentucky and my grandfather lived with us. They both taught me how to shoot as early as I could remember. By the time I was three I had my own rifle and pistol…"
"They gave guns to a three year old?" Wayne asked disturbed.
"I know you aren't too big on guns but I'll tell you what, I would be dead without them. Anyways after Texas got independence, the cattle business started becoming big. I was hired as a herder and of course you had all those new towns emerging around the place. Well there really wasn't much law and order so most of the time cowman or cowboys as they began to call us were expected to carry guns and know how to shoot to protect cattle from thieves. Soon it grew to not just protecting livestock but property and people as well. And thus the trade gunslinger was born."
Wayne was listening at the preacher with interest. He somehow was sympathetic to taking the law into one's own hands. Even if it involved guns he could understand why the need for citizens to bring it upon themselves to protect one another.
"Some of us were honest men. Really the equivalent to deputies. Others were like what you see with Savage. A gunslinger didn't have to choose to be good or evil, just someone who could and be willing to shoot a gun at someone else. Well I made a name for myself. Due to my skills I quickly gained a reputation and was sought after by both cattlemen and land barons alike. Even towns would hire me if the sheriff didn't have much competent deputies. Everyone wanted the legendary 'Shootin' Stiles' on their team."
Wayne couldn't help but notice that the reverend in spite of himself had a nostalgic look on his eyes.
"I was naïve back then. Killing never bothered me and I never hesitated. Especially when you become number one gunslinger, you get a bunch of would be challengers trying to take your spot and challenge you to duels. Half the people I've killed were due to that. Fools trying to gain a reputation by slaying a giant. Kid stuff."
The past few minutes everything seemed to be turned upside down for Wayne. And he thought he had pegged the reverend down. Now he wasn't sure he could ever look at him the same way. How can an alleged man of God talk so openly about killing? It almost disgusted them.
The reverend appeared to sense Wayne's mind and sighed.
"You think I'm a monster?" he sighed. "You think I don't regret or remember every face I've killed?"
Wayne didn't say anything.
"This is the Wild West. That was part of the deal. You become a gunslinger, there has to be a code. A code of honor. Even the ones who cheated it understood the rules. Becoming a gunslinger or challenging one meant putting your life at risk. It was part of the trade. It was dueling, not murder. Well one day about fifteen years ago, some washed up would be bandit challenges me. Seeing he is intoxicated and knowing it would not be a fair fight, I refused."
Wayne was wondering if anyone else in the town knew about this secret past to their town preacher.
"Well he took offense to that and shot me in the back!" the preacher yelled indicating to his back while wincing slightly. "Bullet lodged in my spine. The local doc tried to treat it but told me it would eventually get in there and kill me. So I started having the shakes and the spasms."
Even as he spoke Wayne could notice once in a while his hands would twitch uncontrollably.
"Well of course I was mad at God. Mad at him for making me crippled, cursing me with this. I didn't care whether I lived or died, just wanted to go out in a blaze of glory. Didn't need to try that hard though. Once word spread the legendary gunslinger was dying, everyone wanted a piece of me. Try to kill him while he was down. And I welcomed it, hoping to die in a fight like that. Sadly none of them beat me. Some came close, closer than they would've been if I was still healthy, but no one came near to killing me. Then one day some gunslinger in a brown hat and blue bandanna covering his face challenges me. We of course go out of the bar into the center of town…"
Wayne had a feeling that this happened a lot.
"I shot first, killed him before he even was able to draw. It was only afterwards I discovered not only was this guy inexperienced and out of his league, he was just a kid. No older than thirteen…"
Wayne's eyes narrowed. This man killed a child?
"He was just a kid trying to play cowboy with the big leagues," the reverend said and Wayne could see tears forming on the old man's eyes. Wayne was feeling a little uncomfortable he was being vulnerable in front of him.
"Well at that moment my body had a big spasm and I passed out. When I woke up I discovered a doctor who was better than the last one I got managed to get the bullet out. Unfortunately my back already had enough damage so the spasms and shakes would still come, but at least I wasn't going anywhere soon. Of course I was angry though. Mad, confused. After I killed that boy I wanted to die, I deserved to die or so I thought. I thought God was punishing me, keeping me alive to torture me."
Wayne couldn't explain it but somehow he understood how the reverend felt. Guilt could be the most destructive thing a man could experience.
"But then I stopped getting mad at God and for the first time in my life started listening to Him. I realized that He saved me not to torture me but because He needed me. He needed me to conduct his work and help others. Before I knew it, I gave up my gun fighter days and became a preacher. Wasn't that hard for me considering my daddy was a lawyer and hard educated me from birth. Before I knew it I found this town and have been here ever since."
Wayne was eyeing the preacher curiously. It seemed everyone in Desert Star wasn't what they seemed to be. He also was disturbed by the preacher's past by not only being a gunslinger but a killer as well.
"Why are you helping me then?" Wayne asked. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because I honestly believe God or fate has sent you here. Savage has destroyed this town and brought evil to it. I would've done something but I'm too old and sick to do anything now. I prayed to God that he would deliver us from this evil and then you came."
"I doubt I was sent by God," Wayne muttered darkly. He had enough of this God talk with Azrael.
"You don't believe in God my friend?" the preacher asked. It wasn't in shock but almost confirmation.
"I only need to believe in me. Is there a problem with that?"
"No actually. To have true faith, you need faith in yourself first. Just like I have faith in you."
Wayne sighed angrily.
"You put your faith in the wrong person then," he muttered before turning around to walk away.
"Where're you going?" the reverend asked.
"This was a mistake," Wayne called back. "I'm not your man. You saw it today. I'm not a gunslinger…"
"But we need you!" the preacher called out.
Wayne ignored him and exited the church, passing a confused Peter who just entered. This was stupid. Stupid. He went in without thinking. Fighting something that wasn't his fight. This wasn't like fighting Hades or Azrael. He was alone, no allies or anything. And he was easily outgunned. Plus this town didn't owe him anything. Even the local preacher seemed to have a shady past. The only people who seemed good were the Saunders family and he walked out of them last night because his own ego.
He guessed he would head back to their farm and ask in their heart to forgive them and take him back.
It was already noon and the town was pretty busy which he hated. There were more people out to stare and whisper to each other when he walked by. They were all thinking he was their new mayor or leader. He wasn't the sheriff; he was just an ordinary American. He then realized he was still holding the whip and decided better return where he originally found it.
Turning around, the American headed to the saloon, going around the back to drop it off the original fence he found it. The horses were wandering around. One saw him and began to neigh uncomfortably. Wayne turned and saw a water trough and pushed it closer to the fence to the horse. The horse bent down and began to happily drink up the refreshing water. Smiling Wayne began to pat the horse.
"You do have a way with animals don't you dear?" said a sultry deep female voice.
Wayne turned around and saw a woman wearing a corset and billowy dress that was tight enough to show her waist and big breasts. He face was beautiful and mature despite covered in dark lipstick and eye shadow. She had wild black hair that cascaded down on her bare shoulders. She quickly sauntered over to him.
"And you are?" Wayne asked trying to sound serious. The woman was very pretty and something about her was familiar.
"Whatever you want me to be honey," she joked before getting close. Wayne slightly flinched as she was an uncomfortable six inches away. She smirked and began to stroke his bearded chin.
"You can call me Madame Lorraine…" she teased.
"Madame?" Wayne asked confused.
He then realized there was a reason why she was dress like that.
"You're in the brothel?" Wayne asked in somewhat shock and disgust. He had heard there was a brothel in the saloon.
Lorraine seemed to be amused by his disgust instead of insulted.
"A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. Besides I run it. It's how I make my living…"
She then began to stroke his hair. Wayne couldn't help but feel paralyzed with her. His mind was screaming at him to walk away but his body remained frozen. Something about her just appealed to him, like forbidden fruit. A part of him also felt bad for her. Like he could help her.
"I saw what you did to that Jonah Hex yesterday. I gotta say I'm impressed. Took a real man to beat him like that," she teased and made to move her hand on his torso. Wayne instinctively grabbed it and pried it away, eyeing her with those cold blue eyes.
Lorraine smirked.
"Choir boy huh? What can I say? I do fall for the nice guys…"
"I'm not a nice guy…" Wayne threatened.
"But you're attracted to me, I can feel it Mister Wayne…"
"How do you know my name?"
"Who hasn't dear? The whole town is talking about you. You're the first person anyone's liked to come here. You even have Judge Savage on the edge. They say you being here makes him nervous…"
Wayne noticed Lorraine had a look of satisfaction on her face.
"People look up to you. Some of us want to help you out…" she said before whispering into his ear.
Wayne pushed her away. She seemed disappointed.
"They shouldn't…" he muttered.
"Lorraine!" a voice called.
Wayne and Lorraine looked around to see a bald big man exiting out of the saloon looking helpless.
"Well, I better go help Doc, the poor thing," she said with fake innocence. "See ya around."
She then turned around and walked away leaving a slightly befuddled Wayne to himself. He couldn't help but smile slightly.
She was a pretty, strong, woman…
Shaking his head, Wayne drifted around town. Again most people were staring and whispering when he walked by. Many of the citizens were staring at him with awe or even smiling at him. He even heard the tailor in the distance brag that he fitted him for new clothes. He ignored them. He just wanted to return to the silent life when he felt someone following him.
Turning around uncertain, he found himself staring at a small child. Unlike the Saunders kids, this one was in nicer clothes so Wayne deduced he must've had parents who lived in the town. The boy had blonde hair and blue eyes and was only five years old. He slightly flinched when Wayne turned around but then resumed to look at him with awe.
"Can I help you?" Wayne asked confused.
The boy blushed before speaking.
"Are you…are you the guy who beat up the bad guy?" the boy asked.
Wayne sighed but instead of showing his annoyance tried to force a smile.
"Why yes, I am…"
"Are you going to beat up Mister Savage too?"
"What?"
"Mister Savage is a bad guy, at least that's what pa says. Are you going to beat him up too? The whole town wants you to."
Wayne closed his eyes. Leave it to fate to try to guilt him to get involved. He couldn't just tell the boy who was looking at him with awe and wonder he was abandoning them.
"Yes, yes I am…" Wayne whispered. "But don't tell anyone, it's a secret…"
The boy's eyes lit up.
"I promise!" the boy shouted.
Wayne grinned and the boy ran away excitedly to tell his friends he talked to his hero. Wayne then shook his head.
"Damn this town," he said before heading back to the direction of the church. As much as he would like, he just couldn't do nothing. Leave them to suffer the tyranny of Savage. He just hoped the little boy kept his promise. He was trying to be discreet. Unknown to Wayne, someone had been watching him earlier when he had exited the church and went to the stable around the saloon. That someone saw his entire conversation with Madame Lorraine.
"It seems he's still is a man after all," Judge Savage mused after he saw Wayne walk away from Madame Lorraine.
000000
Batmite sat above the town floating. Batman and the reverend were doing some more training. They had managed to get Sam to smuggle them some horses from his stable so they could practice on the outskirts. Batman was already skilled riding a horse but the reverend was teaching him how to fight multiple men on horseback who were armed. As always Batman was excelling. Every training day he had been getting better and better. Suddenly a whirring was heard and Batmite turned around to see Metron appearing next to him.
"About time you showed up!" Batmite complained.
"Why isn't he at the farm?" Metron demanded angrily.
"What?" Batmite asked confused.
"The farm. You were supposed to keep him in the farm, out of sight and trouble. Now look!"
"He's just riding a horse!" Batmite complained.
"He's training, and Vandal Savage is the mayor of this town and that can only mean one thing; he's planning to revolt against Savage!"
"Sooo…" Batmite asked confused. "That's good right…?"
Metron zapped him with his chair.
"Yyyeeeoooowww!" Batmite complained rubbing his butt while kicking his red cowboy boots.
"That is not good!" Metron shouted. "I warned you to keep him safe. Nothing eventful happens to this town! This isn't supposed to be the end of the world like his past two jumps were! He was supposed to lie low!"
"Wait!" Batmite protested and putting his hands up in defense. "When he was a caveman you wanted to keep him away and it turns out he was supposed to meet Savage in the past and the timestream didn't change! Is it possible that maybe he's supposed to revolt?"
Metron stared at him angrily.
"We'll observe for now…" he muttered. "However we need to be cautious. One false move and we could jeopardize anything…"
"You could just look and see what's actually supposed to happen…"
"I already told you I won't do that," Metron stated before thinking in his head, "Not again…"
Metron then sighed and looked at Batmite suspiciously.
"So what's happened?"
"Well basically Batman ran into Savage and he told Savage he was going to beat his ass after he beat Jonah Hex's ass in a fight. Right now Batman's working with the reverend who used to be a badass to get trained to stop Savage…"
"What about Hades? Has he made an appearance?"
"Yes-er no…" Batmite said guiltily.
Metron glared at him.
"What, did you do?"
"Okay, okay," Batmite complained, lifting his hands up. "Hades was taunting Batman again and I decided to stick up for him and I guess I pissed Hades off because while we were arguing he let slip that I was part of Batman's imagination and that you're involved…"
"WHAT?" Metron asked angrily. "Batman knows about me now?"
"Hades didn't tell him the details!" Batmite quickly defended before Metron could react. "All he knows there's a 'third party' as he called it involved…GACK!"
Metron had Batmite by the throat.
"If you screw this up anymore, I swear by New Genesis I will not only erase you from reality but make you spend a thousand years stuck in a black hole…" Metron whispered dangerously quiet. He was pretty scary when he was angry.
"You do specifically everything I say. Do you understand?"
Batmite gasped but nodded.
Metron let him go and Batmite gave out a big gasp for air.
"You…don't…*cough*…need to be so mean…" Batmite complained.
"Watch him but don't get involved," Metron demanded. "I need to pay someone a visit…"
Metron hit a button on his chair and an orb surrounded him followed by a flash of light.
Metron found himself in the familiar setting of the underworld; dead trees, red sky, dead field that looked black like ash with the crooked throne and the three headed guard dog nearby. This time all three heads of Cerberus were awake gnawing at him. Hades meanwhile was petting the dog heads.
"Oh it is so good to see you again!" Hades greeted in a voice of poisoned honey. "It's been ages since we last met. Or at least for me…"
"You promised me you wouldn't tell him," Metron accused.
"It was an accident, I'm sorry," Hades apologized but with a grin that showed wasn't remorseful at all. "Besides, I enjoy torturing your toy with not telling him anything now. It burns him to not know…"
"Do you understand the full scale consequences of what you could do? You could destroy the entire universe!"
"Don't care. I'll be safe like the other dimensions and underworlds…"
"Then why do you continue to follow him? Why won't you let him go?"
"I don't know… Vengeance? Boredom? Or the fact it gets under your skin?"
Metron glared at him.
"You're too detached my friend. You don't realize sometimes the pleasure of hurting someone you hate. Not just physically but emotionally…"
"He's a lot stronger in the mind than you think," Metron asserted but even he was unsure.
"Ooooh, you're just like him. You hate not knowing, being uncertain. You have the ability to glimpse across time. Why don't you just do that for yourself? Actually interfere directly for once instead of this self-righteous false indirect intervention you do with that annoying puppet of yours?"
"You of all people should know what happens when we have knowledge of our future. Sometimes when we try to change it or avoid it, we end up hurting ourselves. You of all people should know that."
"So you admit the future is not fixed! Fate and destiny is meaningless…"
"I didn't say that. I told you before I just observe…"
"Still on the fence I see. Oh well. I was hoping to wager you on this…"
"I don't gamble on things beyond even our levels of comprehension," Metron said. "Not when the fate of the universe is at stake."
"How about we wager on something else then? Your own champion, the dark warrior…"
"What of him?"
"As his memories come back to him I can sense more of his feelings. He is an angry man, a howling soul demanding vengeance and blood. He has darkness in him just waiting to be unleashed. I bet you he will eventually crack and release that dark side of his. Man in their nature is evil and corrupt…"
Metron pressed a button on his computer as his chair turned around.
"I'm leaving…"
"You fear that don't you?" Hades called after him. "You know what he is capable of and fear what will happen if he accepts the evil nature inside of him before he's ready to be your weapon. Not only will he cross the line but he probably won't be willing to sacrifice himself to be your sacrificial lamb. You don't want him to remember anything!"
Metron ignored him as the machine teleported him back to America. He was above the same place he left only to find Batmite and Batman gone. They must've moved somewhere else.
Hades was being ridiculous, grasping at straws. He was just worried about the timestream not the morality of Batman. And Batman would never become selfish. Metron was only worried that Batman would get his memory too early back and accidently affect the timestream. But if it called for it, he knew Batman would understand the greater good.
Still though, it was an interesting thought. Why was Batman so determined to never kill even in self-defense or even when it was justifiable? Curiously, he hit a button on his computer.
"Computer, run a hypothetical situation if Batman was to suddenly decide to kill his enemies in his early years," the New God ordered.
The computer gathered data from his notes and flashed a bunch of images. All grisly and disturbing. Metron first saw the Justice Lord Batman, proud and arrogant. Then he saw another Batman except it was covered in guns, walking down the streets of Gotham and shooting without remorse. There was another image and another. All different types of Batman but they all had the same theme. A Batman who was willing to kill would eventually become an evil tyrant, dictator, or monster. A fascist in the same vein of Darkseid.
Metron dissatisfied shut the computer. Hades was right. If Batman crossed that line, his soul would be forfeit. It didn't matter if the killing was justified. Metron understood now. Batman refused to kill not because of some moral anguish against killing, but because he was afraid of what he would become.
Now Metron understood why Hades believed he would claim Batman's soul if he killed. Once the bridge was crossed, there was no turning back…No! Batman was strong and had integrity. Even for an ordinary man he was hard to break or compromise with. Batman wouldn't fall…
Wait why did this matter to him? As long as Batman stayed alive that's all he could care. Who cares if Batman's soul became lost? As long as he didn't interfere with the timestream and served his purpose, Metron could care less what would happen to his soul in this life or the next. Unfortunately, not even Metron could believe he was that cold to the actual fate of Batman.
0000000
Wayne and the reverend sat in the church. For the past week and a half they'd been training and it was paying off. Wayne knew he could not only take out at least five men at once armed with just his whip by himself but also do it on horseback.
"When are we going to do something?" Wayne asked. He had been around this area for almost a month. He knew he would be jumping sooner or later unless this was his last stop which he doubted.
"We need to wait for Bill to get us more information. Besides what makes you think you're ready?"
"You know I can take out five well trained shooters with my whip, on horseback."
The reverend snorted.
"Back in my day I could shoot six men all armed, pistols cocked, pointing at me, with my gun still holstered!"
"I doubt that old man," Wayne teased, a rare moment for him.
"You do have a sense of humor, Praise the Lord!" the reverend joked. "I did it once! Probably my greatest stunt ever! Six bandits had us surrounded in a cattle camp and we were all out of ammo except my pistol which carried six rounds. I waited for them to come and they surrounded me. I then turned around and took them all out at once, firing all six shots into them…"
The doors of the church opened violently and Peter ran in.
"The…the...sheriff wants to see both of you…" Peter huffed.
"Take a deep breath Peter," the reverend assured before getting up. Wayne was looking at him unsure.
"You think he knows?" Wayne asked.
The reverend shrugged. "Too late to back out now…"
The two men exited the church and made their way across town to the sheriff's office. It was late afternoon so the streets weren't as crowded and for once Wayne didn't have to worry about being stared at. They quickly entered the office to find Sheriff O'Hara with his hat off reading some papers. In one of the cells behind him was a sleeping occupant.
"He's still here?" Wayne asked confused at the sleeping Jonah Hex.
"There's still an issue with his bounty. Damn Cletus's tryin' to claim it for his own. I told him since he was apprehended by an officer of a law; no one should get it since you won't take it. The damn district governments are in a mess right now trying to sort this mess all because of Judg…er those bureaucrats."
"Sheriff I hate to be rude," the reverend spoke politely. "But I need to know why we are here…"
"Cut the crap Stiles!" the sheriff yelled slamming the desk. "I know what yer both up to!"
"I don't know what you're talking…"
"I saw you the other day riding a horse whipping at targets. You had Pete Saunders being on lookout but he was passed out that time and so I was able to get a good look! What the hell are you doing?"
"What does it look like we're doing?" Wayne asked. "You know Judge Savage has broken this town! We're trying to take an actual stand!"
"So am I! But you got to understand, Savage has friends in high places. You can't just form a posse and arrest him. Every time I tried some local official from one of the governments stops me because Savage sends them a telegram. Every time I try to contact a higher level of government I find myself blocked!"
"But you're an officer of a law. You need to stick up…"
"Precisely. I am an officer on the law. Unfortunately I can't just arrest Savage without a warrant even though any half-witted judge would give it to me easily!"
The sheriff then looked at his badge and then took it off looking at it with disgust.
"Protect and serve my ass…" he muttered cynically.
"Sheriff," the reverend said, taking a seat. "I understand your hands are tied. You more than anyone would love nothing more than to ensure that Savage sees justice. Well that's when we come in. Wayne isn't an officer of the law. He can play Savage's game, get down and dirty. Expose the truth to what he really is without being stopped by the law…"
"But what truth? We can't tie anything to Savage…"
"There yer guys arrrre," slurred a drunk voice that had entered the sheriff's office. Bill the drunk staggered in.
"Someone told me yer guys went in here…"
The sheriff sighed.
"I'll take you to your cell Bill," he muttered getting up and pulling out the keys to unlock the empty cell. He began to lead Bill in.
"Oh I almost fergot…I did what ya wanted. I know what they're gonna do next!" Bill said.
"What?" the sheriff asked confused. The reverend instead looked at Bill.
"Attaboy Bill!" he encouraged. "What's Savage up to now?"
"There's…there's a stagecoach robbery…gonna happen…" Bill explained. "Ten miles north some newly appointed Yankee in the terrrritorrrrial governmen' is comin'. The judge's gonna have Cletus and ten men drrress like Injuns and attack it…make it look like the Injuns attack…"
"Why would he do that?" the reverend asked.
"Probably as a warning," Wayne speculated. "Send a message to those in the territorial government not on Savage's payroll to back off. They'll know it's him but they won't be able to prove it."
The reverend nodded.
"Good work Bill," he encouraged.
"And they thought I waaasss too druunnnkkk to listen…." Bill slurred off before passing out on the bed and sleeping.
The sheriff shut the cell door and looked at Wayne and the reverend.
"This is our chance sheriff," the reverend pleaded. "This government official, he's new and not on Savage's payroll. If we rescue him and get one of Savage's men to name him, he might be able to send down a warrant to you to arrest him…"
"That's wishful thinking. How are you gonna get any of Savage's monkeys to talk?"
"Leave that to me," Wayne assured.
The sheriff sighed.
"On one condition…" he muttered.
"What's that?" Wayne asked.
"You get the hell out of here when this is over. Can't have people operating outside the law and be endorsing it. I'll allow this and help you, but as soon as this is over, I'm gonna be calling for your arrest."
"Wait…" the reverend protested.
"Understood," Wayne nodded. He would probably jump ahead to the future anyways. "You need to send a message."
"Shit get me involved too…" a voice called.
All three men jumped to see Jonah Hex standing in the cell looking at them. In the moment of arguing, they had forgotten he was there.
"Don't worry; I've been awake the whole time. I heard everything ya'll said…"
Wayne cursed himself in his head for being this neglectful. A week and a half back working hard was down the tubes.
"If yer think I'll tell I won't. That is, yer do me a favor…"
"What?"
"Well the sheriff probably can't do much and the preacher, no offense, is too damn old. So yar goin' to take on at least eleven men armed by yerself?"
"I can do it," Wayne asserted.
Jonah Hex laughed.
"Whatever ya say…"
"You think you can actually help?" Wayne asked. He didn't feel like he needed the approval of an outlaw.
"Actually yes I do," Hex stated calmly without doubt. "Considerin' I'm on the other side of the law, I have no qualms of bending the rules to help ya all. Plus I do have a reputation as being one of the best gunmen around here…"
"I disarmed you without a gun," Wayne retorted.
"Only because I was caught off guard!" Hex called defensively. "How was I supposed to know yer would use a whip as a weapon?"
Hex then took a breath to calm down.
"But my point. I can help ya. I know how these guys think…"
"Enough," the sheriff called. "The only place you're going to see is the noose."
"Look at my record!" Hex called. "I've killed people but those who deserved it. I never killed any kids or woman or innocent civilians! That's why Turnbull kicked me outta his gang! Said I was too soft…that basturd!"
Sheriff shook his head.
"Just ignore him…"
Wayne however was eyeing Hex curiously.
"Say we let you out and help us, what do you want in return?"
"Wayne you can't be serious!" the sheriff cried. "He's a murderer!"
"Call me what ya want! The point is ya need me! Let me out and I'll help ya. Ya can even say ya killed me sheriff while trying to pursue me. I need to disappear 'cause if I can't even hide out in a town like this, I might as well just lock myself back in here!"
Wayne looked at sheriff.
"He does have a point. Even if we let him out, he still has nowhere else to go other than being on the run."
"I don't care I don't trust him!"
"I don't either," Wayne said before turning around. "But a murderer he's not."
"How can you be so sure?" the sheriff called.
"He could've shot me outside the saloon and escaped. He tried to give me the chance to get out of his way. What kind of murderer does that?"
"This is ridiculous…Reverend, help me out here!"
"I actually agree with Mister Wayne. We can use all the help we can get. Plus it's more beneficial for him to help us out in exchange for us putting out the story he was killed."
"Sheriff," Wayne said softly. "Give me the keys!"
The sheriff scowled at him.
"Sheriff. Please trust me," Wayne said. "If not him, trust me."
The sheriff had a look on his face that he would never in a million years give Wayne the keys. But somehow something about Wayne made him trust him.
"Fine. One false move from him and he's dead," the sheriff said reluctantly and gave the keys to Wayne.
Wayne walked over to the jail cell and began to unlock it.
"If you double-cross me, you're dead."
Hex backed away grinning slightly as Wayne unlocked the cell. Hex stepped out and began to stretch.
"God I was cramped in there," he said while cracking his back.
000000
Wayne and the reverend entered the church. It was nightfall right now. Before sunrise, their posse would ride out to stop Savage's attack. It was good they included Jonah Hex to their team. He proved to be an actual valuable planner. It was him to suggest Savage would probably have more than just ten men to attack the stagecoach.
Their plan was to ride out before sunrise and beat Savage's men to their intended destination and ambush them when they began to attack the stagecoach. After they took Savage into custody and he was taken in by the federal authorities, Hex and Wayne would get out of town. The cover story was Wayne broke Hex out and the two tried to flee only to be killed by Sheriff O'Hara after his posse tracked them down and killed both of them in a shootout.
"You ready tomorrow?" the reverend asked as he entered the church. Peter was on the pew, passed out asleep.
"Are you, old man?" Wayne teased.
The preacher laughed.
"I hope you have something to wear other than those field clothes…"
"Don't worry, I do."
"You should also wear a mask," the reverend explained.
"Why?"
"So in case you ever want to keep the name Wayne they can't accuse you of the crime. You can deny it and said it was a masked man."
Wayne was about to tell the reverend he would soon be jumping forward in time so he wouldn't need to worry about the authorities chasing him but decided against it. Besides the idea of a mask seemed fun.
"Well, I gotta say some prayers…" the Reverend said, leaving Wayne to himself.
000000
The posse road under the cover of darkness. They were on five horses, courtesy of the stable hand Sam who manage to "lend" them to the posse.
In all of his time. This was the strangest group Wayne had ever imagined. Five people on five horses, all with different backgrounds. The sheriff was riding his horse on the left side. A crusty middle aged man trying to do what he could without sacrificing his principles. To the right of sheriff rode Jonah Hex. The outlaw with a code. Mysterious and not the most trustworthy character. Yet he had been on his best behavior. Not only had he made no attempt to escape, he had been a valuable asset in their plan.
On the right side rode the reverend and Peter. Much to the surprise of Wayne, despite his age and paralysis, the reverend was able to ride the horse pretty well. Occasionally he put a shaky hand on his black hat to prevent it from flying away. Peter meanwhile had a look of excitement on his face. Out of all the party, he seemed to be the most excited for what they were doing. Understandable considering he was the youngest.
In the middle rode Wayne himself. He was no longer in his field clothes but the town clothes Jimmie had bought him. A black hat, black shirt and jacket, black pants, and black boots with black spurs. On his face he wore a makeshift black mask with two holes so his cold blue eyes showed. According to Hex, that seemed to make his glare scarier. Wayne found it amusing once again he was in all black and it was in contrast to Judge Savage's white suit.
"Here's the place," the sheriff grunted and they steered to the left. They were on a high cliff that allowed them to look down in the desert. There was a lonely road that cut through the valley which the stagecoach was expect to travel on. The sun was just rising on the other side of the mountains. Wayne lowered his hat to prevent the glare from blinding him.
"Everyone know their jobs?" the sheriff grunted.
The reverend nodded.
"Peter your with me. We're going to stay up here," he orde3red.
"But I thought I was going to go with them!" Peter complained.
"You're staying with me!" the reverend ordered. "I'm old and need some help. Besides we're going to provide some emergency cover fire if they need it."
Wayne, the sheriff, and Hex began to ride down to their designated spots.
"And now we wait," the sheriff muttered.
00000
Wayne and Hex were in a little ditch waiting. They had been waiting for at least ten hours patiently. The sheriff was off in another area ready to provide the covering fire. Their horses were with them as well.
"So what's yer story…" Hex muttered.
"I don't have one," Wayne responded, making it clear with his sharp tone he didn't want to talk.
"Yeah, I'm calling bullshit on that. Everyone's gotta story. Why are yer here?"
"Believe it or not, some of us actually do believe helping others before themselves."
Hex laughed.
"This's a strange town. They got a sheriff who can't be bought or tempted with. A mystery man who rather fight with a whip over a gun. Me, the outlaw. And a preacher. Who brings a preacher to a posse?"
"Believe it or not, he was one of the best back in his prime. Told me he took six men out once with just one pistol even though they were all pointing their guns at them."
Hex laughed.
"That is somethin' I like to see. No one's that fast. Not even me."
"I hear something," Wayne hushed and Hex shut up. In the distance they could see a stagecoach riding down the road. It was slow moving and covered in so many bags and suitcases on the roof. Bad idea. Weighing it down without really any protection made it an easy target.
"Here they come," Hex muttered.
In the distance was a lot of war calling and fake Indian chanting. A group of fifteen to twenty men came out along a rocky ridge on the road, on horseback. They were dressed in fake Indian garb and even from the distance it was obvious they were really white. Most had guns but a few had tomahawks. The stagecoach driver, realizing his mistake, tried to spur on the horse. But it was no use. The horse was weighed down by the weight of the stage coach. Before they knew it, the stage coach was surrounded by the fake Indian tribe.
"Strip her good boys!" Wayne could make out the faint voice of Cletus.
"I really don't like that fucker," Hex muttered as he aimed his rifle and closed one eye.
"Remember, no killing or the deal's off," Wayne warned.
"I know, I know…" Hex muttered before firing.
BANG!
Hex's bullet hit its target. The hand of one of the fake Indians. An impressive feat considering that they were at least 300 yards away. The fake Indian cried in pain and fell off his horse clutching his hand.
Hex took another shot.
BANG!
This one purposely missed. But it got their Indian's attention. They all began to ignore the stagecoach and shuffle around nervously.
"Easy pickin's," Hex said with a smile and took another shot.
The bullet landed right next to a horse on the left, scaring the animal and causing it to get on its hind legs, knocking the rider off.
"Over there!" someone shouted pointing to the direction to the ditch.
"They're coming..." Hex said excitedly and dropped for cover. The sound of bullets reigning over was heard.
Wayne looked up in the distance to see the edge of the cliff. The reverend and Peter unnoticed stood on it providing overwatch. The reverend waved his hat. That was the signal.
BANG! BANG!
The sheriff shot two bullets at the approaching gang. Neither of them hit anything but the work was done. The gang was confused now. The sheriff was a lot further to the ditch that Hex and Wayne were in.
BANG BANG!
Two more shots were fired from another place. The sheriff had placed a couple of rifles along a rocky ridge. It helped create the illusion there was more than one person there.
"Spread 'em out!" Cletus ordered. "Find 'em!"
Wayne and Hex could hear the gang stirring their horses to the general direction of the sheriff's position.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Peter and the reverend were shooting above now with rifles. Like Hex and the sheriff, they were personally missing their targets. Due to the technical illegal nature of their posse, Wayne convinced the sheriff and the rest they would be able to convince a government official to arrest Savage they would look more credible if they didn't kill anyone. Besides shooting wide still seemed to serve the purpose of confusing and scattering the gang.
"They're everywhere!" someone called.
Wayne and Hex took the signal and got on their horses.
"Let's ride!" Wayne ordered and spurred his horse, a black one, on. Hex soon followed and the two horses ran out of the ditch.
Caught between the shots fired between the sheriff and Peter and the reverend, the gang didn't notice or hear the sound of two horses charging at them. By the time one turned around it was too late.
"Look out-"
CRACK!
Wayne snapped his whip, at the gang member's face, knocking him off the horse.
BANG! BANG!
Hex with a pistol in each hand shot two shots, disarming the two nearest men who had managed to point their guns at them. Wayne sped his horse on and flicked his whip.
CRACK! SNAP! CRACK!
"Yeeeoooww!" one of the fake Indians cried in pain. Wayne had managed to disarm four men.
BANG BANG!
Cletus and the men around him panicked and began to shoot at Wayne and Hex who seemed to be unstoppable charging at them. All shots missed.
Wayne flicked his whip, taking three men off their horse. Hex shot at Cletus scaring his horse and knocking the men off.
Meanwhile from above, the reverend and Peter had focused their shots on the stage coach. They shot at the few members of the gang who were still guarding the hostages at the stagecoach. They quickly scrambled, fighting and pushing each other to hide behind the stagecoach. Good, they were neutralized.
Wayne was amazed. So far everything was going well and no one on their side or the enemy side had gotten killed yet. The gang was in chaos. Their horses panicking and knocking their riders over. Many of the men were unsure whether to shoot at the seemingly endless supply of fire coming from the rocky ledge or the two men who were physically attacking them.
"That's Jonah Hex!" one called before Wayne snapped his whip in his face.
"Duck!" Hex shouted and shot a bullet which Wayne barely dodged, hitting a gang member in the hand who was trying to wave a tomahawk at him. Wayne took the opportunity and slid off his horse so he could fight better.
Many of them had given up trying to shoot Wayne or Hex and tired to use their tomahawks or the fists.
Wayne smiled and let some get close before beating them. He ducked a clumsy punch before stamping on a foot and flicking the whip over his shoulder to stop a man in his tracks.
"Shit get me outta here!" one cried as he and a few of his fellow gang members who were disarmed fled to their horses, getting on them, and spurring them away.
"Come back here yer cowards!" Cletus called before getting punched in the face by Hex.
"That felt good," Hex said flicking his wrist. Like Wayne he was dismounted now, taking out what was rest of the gang by hand now. The sheriff meanwhile was still providing plenty of distracting fire while the reverend and Peter kept the rest of the gang fixed in the stagecoach. In no time soon about three quarters of the gang had begun to flee on foot or whatever horse they could get on, running away and not daring to look back.
Wayne and Hex laughed as they could see many of the fake Indians running and screaming, many of their arms and tomahawks forgotten as they fled, not daring to look back. The sheriff came out of his hiding spot.
"We got some of them still hidin' behind the stagecoach," the sheriff muttered.
"I got an idea," Hex grinned while picking up Cletus who was coming to.
"Heyyy, yar 'posed to be in jail," he complained.
"I got an early pass," Hex muttered.
Dragging Cletus, Hex and Wayne carried him to the stagecoach while the sheriff followed them. When they got close enough, Hex began to shout.
"Yer all rats o'er there! We got guns pinned on ya! Come out now or we'll shoot Cletus!"
"Ya wouldn't…"
Hex cocked his pistol.
"Three seconds!"
"One!" Wayne shouted.
"Two…" Hex shouted back while digging the pistol into Cletus's temple.
"For Christ's sake! Give up guys!" Cletus ordered as sweat began to pour down.
"Hold it!" one gang member shouted as he stepped out, his hands raised. "Don't; shoot!"
Cletus sighed with relief as four men came out behind the stagecoach, all hands in the air. Wayne smiled.
"Works every time…"
"What is the meaning of this?" a voice called and someone exited out of the stagecoach. It was a small man in an expensive suit with monocle. "What is this place?"
"Welcome to America," Hex replied sarcastically. The man looked at Hex with shock and his eyes widened.
"But…but you're Jonah Hex! You're a criminal…"
"Relax, we're here to help."
The man then looked at Wayne and noticed the black mask he wore.
"And…who are you?" he asked nervously.
"I'm the Black Ranger," Wayne replied half seriously.
"This, this is an outrage. I'm putting you both under arrest…"
"I'll deal with that," the sheriff grunted and stepped forward, making sure his badge was visible.
"Who are you?" the government official replied nervously.
"I'm Sheriff O'Hara of Desert Star."
"You're a sheriff? Then why are you allying with these roguish criminals?"
"So much for 'thank ya…'" Hex muttered annoyed.
"You…you can't let them take the law in their hands…"
"I had to form a posse to save your ungrateful ass," the sheriff muttered.
"You could've just gotten help from the government…"
"Bull!" the sheriff cried angrily. "Judge Savage owns the entire government around here!"
"From what I heard, Judge Savage is a respectable man…"
"Open your eyes sir!" the sheriff complained. "Ya know something's up here! How many knew you were goin' be travelin'? Why were they dressed like Injuns?"
"Well I…where's the proof?" the official cried.
Wayne sighed. Typical government bureaucrats.
"Give him to me…" Wayne muttered dragging Cletus.
"Who sent you?" he demanded.
Cletus laughed.
"Ya don't kill. Ya can't scare me…"
SNAP!
"OWWW!" Cletus cried in pain. Wayne had broken one of his fingers.
"Talk!" Wayne demanded.
"You can't do this! This is illegal!" the government official complained.
"I'll make sure to arrest them for that," the sheriff said while taking his hat off and dusting it off. "But you know I can't do it without a warrant. Just to be sure you know…"
"Do you want to lose another finger?" Wayne demanded.
"Yar bein' too soft," Hex growled. "My turn…"
Hex then knocked Cletus on his back. Cletus was still crying and clutching his hand in pain. Hex pointed his pistol at his crotch.
"Yah got three seconds before I blow yar nuts off!" Hex threatened.
"This is barbaric!" the government official complained.
"One…" Hex counted.
"Now…now wait…" Cletus complained.
"Two…"
"Please don't…"
"Say goodbye to your manhood," Hex said and got ready to pull the trigger.
"Oh God!" Cletus cried. "I'll talk! It was Savage, the mayor and judge. He hired us to do it!"
"Why?" Wayne demanded.
"He…he wanted this city folk bumped off. Told us he was too bit of a goody two shoes! Also the new district gove'nor wants more money to be bought off by Savage. Savage wanted to send 'em a message he should be considered lucky that Savage already pays 'em…"
"Does that satisfy you?" the sheriff asked looking at the official.
"I…what you did is still illegal. Unconstitutional."
"They didn't kill anyone," the sheriff pointed out. Plus you can't blame us considering you just heard from the horse's mouth Judge Savage has bought off most of the authority around here."
"I…"
"With all due respect sir," the sheriff interrupted. "It's folks like Savage why we need to do shit like this. You take him out and we don't have to rely on bandits like these to enforce our laws."
The official looked confused and began to mull it over.
"What do you need?"
"Telegram me a warrant for Savage's arrest. Use your connections in the federal government to try him. The local is too corrupt to prosecute him."
"It'll take a day for a federal marshal to come after him," the official pointed out.
"Yeah but we'll hold 'em. Give me that warrant so I can lock 'em up and let you guys take him."
The official began to pace nervously.
"Fine, but I want your badge when this is over!"
"Fair enough," the sheriff agreed. "I was gonna retire soon anyways."
"And I want you to turn yourselves in!" the official demanded.
"Try us," Hex muttered. "We just saved yar life…"
The official turned beet red.
"Imma…uh…"
"Worry about them later," the sheriff offered. "The priority right now is getting that warrant for Savage."
The official looked conflicted before finally sighing.
"Fine. I'll get you your warrant."
"Nice doin' business with ya," Hex said sarcastically.
"But what about them?" the official said as he headed back into his stagecoach, pointing to Cletus and his gang.
Wayne looked at Cletus and the four men with him.
"Don't let me catch you in Desert Star again," Wayne warned. "Or you'll be seeing from us."
"Go on! Get out!" Hex shouted kicking them and firing his pistol in the air. The five gang members scrambled their feet and began running. Hex laughed at the sight.
The three turned around and left the stagecoach, leaving the befuddled official to himself.
0000000
Judge Savage sat with his two body guards in his office. Cletus and his men should've been back by now what was taking them so long? Deciding he needed a drink he got up from his desk and put his white hat on and stepped outside. The sun was about to set…
"Goin' somewhere?" a hoarse voice called. Judge Savage and his men turned around to see a scarred man pointing his pistol at him.
"How did you escape?" Savage asked with mild surprise.
"I let him out," another voice called. Judge Savage turned around to see a man in black clothes, hat, boots, and a black mask. He immediately knew it was Wayne. What was up with that man and masks?
Savage sighed as his two body guards cracked their knuckles.
"Do I have to enforce the law as well around here? Take them out…"
Each bodyguard walked to one of the men. Hex easily dodged the punch and kneed the guard in the balls who whined and collapsed on the floor. The other one tried to pull a gun on Wayne who easily flicked his whip around his neck and pulled him towards him off balance. Wayne then lifted his elbow up and brought it down, knocking the goon out cold.
Judge Savage however showed no fear and just laughed. He then eyed Wayne. Wayne knew what that look meant. Savage was immortal, he couldn't be killed. They couldn't hurt him. A large crowd of people began to form around the three men. Many people were unsure and holding their breaths.
"You have no authority. This is my town. You can't arrest me…"
"But I can," a voice called. Savage and the people looked around to see Sheriff O'Hara walking to Savage grinning.
"Glad you're here Sheriff, arrest these men for assaulting a judge!"
"I'll get to that when the papers come in. Right now I got a telegram from the federal government. They put a warrant out for your arrest!"
Savage showed surprise at that. Hex began laughing. Many of the onlookers began to whisper.
"You're lying…"
The sheriff pulled out a piece of paper and read it out loud.
"'By authority of the federal government, Judge Savage is to be brought in on suspicion of bribery and attempted murder-Stop. The local sheriff…' why that's me, '…is instructed to hold him into custody until a federal marshal arrives tomorrow to escort him-Stop.'"
The sheriff then grinned at Judge Savage.
"It's over, Vandal," he said, calling him by his first name without the title, a sign of disrespect.
"You can't do this!" Savage complained as people began to cheer. "This is my town!"
Wayne went up and grabbed Savage by the shoulder.
"Don't touch me!" Savage cried.
"You better come quietly; you don't want them to find out your secret. Hex wants to shoot you."
Savage growled angrily and let Wayne push him to the sheriff who began to cuff him.
The entire town erupted.
"This isn't over. Not by a long shot!"
"It is Savage," Wayne called. "The people have spoken."
Savage growled as the sheriff began to escort him to the jail cells. People began to surround Wayne and Hex to cheer and shake their hands.
"Well I'll be damned. People like me now," Hex joked.
Wayne laughed. He spotted the reverend and Peter who were watching in the distance. The reverend gave an approving nod. Wayne looked at Hex; he had to slightly shout over the town cheers to be heard.
"The sun's going down! We should probably guard the outside of the sheriff's office in case they try something funny!"
"Sounds like a good idea," Hex muttered and they tried to push through the throng to guard the jail cell. It wouldn't be over until Savage was fully kicked out of town.
00000
Somewhere on the outskirts of Desert Star.
Cletus and his men were running around aimlessly. When they had fled the stagecoach, they had gotten lost. They were lost in some canyon and it was getting dark. It was just Cletus and the four who fled with him. The other fifteen men were long gone.
"Nice goin' Cletus," one complained. "Without you, you got us lost!"
"Not my fault!" Cletus complained. "Don't worry; Savage will get 'em. Teach 'em a lesson!"
"I doubt that," one of the men complained. "You sung like a canary to that government man. He'll be arrested by the time we get back."
"Where the fuck are we?" another one whined. It was already dark and hard to see.
"We're near the town, Imma sure of it," Cletus complained.
Click!
Immediately, Cletus and his men froze and found five different pistols pointed at them. One of the men stepped out of the shadows into the moonlight. He was a tall big man with a bushy black moustache and dark eyes. He had a slight unevenly shaven parts on his face not covered in the moustache with a big gash going across his eye and nose.
"Did one of you just mention Judge Savage?" the big man demanded.
"Uh yes…." Cletus said nervously before standing tall to try to sound intimidating. "And we're his men so if ya shoot us, ya'll have to answer to…"
"Really?" the man asked not scared at all. "Well I find that odd considering he hired us…"
"Wait…" Cletus said, his stupid mind putting the pieces together. "You're Mr. Turnbull!"
"The one and only. What the hell are you doing out here?"
"About time ya guys showed up. Wait, Savage said there was forty of ya guys…"
"The rest will show up tomorrow at noon. Now answer my question. Why are you out here walking around like chickens with their heads cut off?"
"You got to help us man. Some guys jumped us. The sheriff formed a posse with this stranger called Mistah Wayne and Jonah Hex…"
"Jonah Hex you say?" Turnbull asked, showing interest. "You here that boys? It looks like are old friend is still alive."
Turnbull's men began to laugh and chuckle.
"Where is Hex?" Turnbull asked curiously.
"He probably went back in town. They were talkin' about arrestin' Savage and bringin' in a marshal tomorrow mornin'. Ya gotta help him."
"Don't worry. We'll free your boss tonight and by tomorrow noon, my men and I will be the new sheriff of that town…"
Up next in the penultimate chapter of the western arc, Batman experiences betrayal and the full consequences of his actions. As he tries to rally the citizens of Desert Star, he discovers that he really is all alone and those he thought he could keep safe are in danger as well…