The trail to Boot Hill was a green one. Much like the heartland of Claiborne, the land surrounding Boot Hill was fertile and green. Trees, though far from abundant, dotted the landscape. Tall green grasses and small shrubbery also littered the vast rolling hills. The sea of sand was to the south, and four Drifters were hiking north.
"I didn't realize when we hitched a ride with Volks that he was actually going to Laxisland…" Virginia mumbled as she walked down the path, glancing at the cattle in the pasture.
"It would have been convenient if he were to wait for us. Then we would have had the entire transportation problem solved…" Todd thought.
"Man, this place is real nice. The land value must be sky rocketing!" Alfred said.
"You'd think a lot of people would be out here, but in truth the land all belongs to somebody. He used to live in the mansion estate a long time ago. No one knows happened to him." Virginia giggled. "And to your right, you'll see an apple tree! Remember, no pictures on the tour."
"Ha ha very funny." Jet retorted. "So how far are we from town?"
Virginia placed a finger in the air and analyzed it carefully. "I'd say…not much longer..."
"Well we couldn't ask for a better day to do this, could we?" Alfred commented.
"Correct, master Alfred." Todd said.
"Yea yea…" Jet placed his arms behind his head as he walked. Crossing the road before him was certainly one of the stranger creatures he had seen. It resembled a dog, yet was completely covered in white fluff and had the head of a goat. "Uh, Ginny. What's that thing?"
"Virginia laughed. "What? You mean that?" Virginia said, pointing to the bizarre animal. "It's a sheep!"
"What the hell is a sheep?" Jet asked.
"You only herd them down here, right?" Alfred asked Virginia.
Virginia nodded. "That's correct. Sheep are little creatures that grow wool."
Jet placed a falling end of his scarf in his palm. "You mean the stuff clothes are spun from grows on 'sheep'?"
"Yea silly. Where else do you think wool would come from?" Virginia placed her hands on her hips.
"I don't know. I thought it came from a plant or something." Jet replied.
The group came over the crest of the hill. Before them lied the quiet little town of Boot Hill. Surrounding the town were small fields, growing small crops. The town's growing season had come in, and the local farmers were scrounging as little as they could grow in Filgaia soil. Still, it was much better soil near Boot Hill then most of the deserts on the planet. In the pastures, flocks of sheep and small herds of cattle grazed upon the luscious grass. A small orchard was growing the fruits of the season as well. Virginia stopped on the trail, letting the sights and smells return to her. The old windmill was spinning in the field, pumping water out of the well.
"Well here we are. Now to look for Asgard's clues?" Todd asked.
"Not just yet. Well Jet, welcome to your new hometown!" Virginia gestured towards the city.
Jet scratched the back of his head. "You're serious about this, aren't you?"
With that, the Drifters roamed into the town of Boot Hill.
** *
Virginia opened the door to her home. Grinning from ear to ear, the young girl gave a hearty shout. "Uncle Tesla, Aunt Shalte, I'm home!"
It was a big house for such a small town. The Maxwell estate, as it was known, was a two story tall house constructed in the Victorian style from ages long past. Though its inhabitants were far from rich, it was still a house made for a family. A family once lived here, but the children have all grown up and left.
Virginia walked in further, allowing her friends to come in behind her. Everything was the same as it was on her last visit several months back. The same table sat in the dining room, adorned in the same antiquities. The photograph of her with her loving uncle and aunt hung on the yellow and white patterned wallpaper. The sounds of footsteps descending from the stairway filled Virginia with excitement. She rushed towards the stairway, leaving the others in the dust. In a mad tackle, the young honey haired girl tackled her dear uncle Tesla, sending them both to the ground. The brown haired mustached man nearly lost his breath. He smiled and rubbed Virginia's head and returned the hug. The both of them stood up, smiling at each other.
"So you've finally decided to give your old man a visit, huh?" Tesla laughed.
"You and Shalte said I could come home and rest my wings whenever I needed to." Virginia beamed.
"Heh. Well nothing ever spoken has been truer." Tesla stepped back from his niece, letting her image sink into his mind. "It seems you've changed into quite the young woman Ginny."
Virginia blushed immediately. She coughed and analyzed her uncle. "And your moustache is still is neat as ever! Where's Shalte?"
"She's upstairs. You caught us in the middle of painting the guestroom. Who are your friends?" Tesla pointed towards the dining room.
Virginia turned towards the entrance. "C'mon guys. Come in!" Coming as ordered, Jet, Alfred, and Todd strode in with their different style of walking. "You already know Jet, and this is Alfred and Todd, from the Shroedinger estate."
Tesla smiled and outstretched his hand for a shake. "It's good to meet you. Any friend of Virginia's is welcome here."
"Oh Ginny, when are you ever going to bring a couple lady friends home? All you do is hang around boys." Aunt Shalte walked down the stairs, wiping her hands in her apron.
"Shalte! It's so good to see you!": Virginia hugged the old blonde with the same strength she had given her uncle.
"So Ginny. Any of these two your boyfriend?" Tesla laughed, pointing to Jet and Alfred. Alfred blushed immensely while Jet simply stepped back and diverted his eyes.
"Tesla! Stop embarrassing them like that!" Virginia stepped back to her group of Drifters, placing her arm around Jet's shoulders. "We're actually here on an assignment."
"Oh an assignment. It sounds important. Ginny, would you and your friends like to stay for dinner?" Shalte asked.
"We'd love to Shalte!" Virginia stepped forward.
"Then you can help your aunt cook!" Tesla laughed.
"That's a grand idea!" Shalte said.
"Alright, so what are we cooking? Hey guys, you can help to if you want!" Virginia offered.
"Actually, we should probably start on the mission. Not too much time left…" Todd said, serious as ever.
"Yea, start on the mission. We'll be back Ginny." Jet nervously laughed, inching out of the room.
"I'll stay and help!" Alfred raised his hand.
"Come Alfred! You've got work to do!" Jet grabbed Alfred's collar and yanked him out of the room with him.
Todd bowed before Tesla. "It was a pleasure meeting you sir."
Tesla scratched the back of his neck and gave a confused look. "You're welcome?" With that, the three males left, leaving the Maxwell family reunited. Tesla looked into the kitchen. "With behavior like that, you'd think that Todd fellow was a butler or something…"
"Oh he is Tesla!" Virginia replied while washing her hands.
"Well he could have been useful…" Shalte laughed.
** *
The sounds of Rossini's William Tell Overture (conclusion) were playing from a rare device located within the town bar. It was mid afternoon, and the bar was all but crowded. The bar tender looked up from rubbing his shot glasses to see the double saloon doors swing open for Jet Enduro, Alfred Shroedinger, and his butler Todd. The eight or ten other bar inhabitants didn't bother looking up from their cards and drinks. The three sat themselves at a round table not far from the door.
A man at the bar drank from a bottle of Ale and placed it in front of the bar tender. He wore a large ten-gallon hat with several bullet holes in it. His eyes were squinted shut and in his large square jaw was a cigarette. He was a large man, taller and wider than every one else in the bar save Todd. He had a bandage over his nose and tuffs of brown hair. His tanned leather jacket extended to just below his waist. He had several bandages wrapped around his chest underneath and wore dark blue jeans with black boots. The man grinned as he took the cigarette out of his mouth and tapped it over an ashtray. "That's a phonograph, isn't it?" He spoke in a deep voice.
The bar tender smiled. "You're the first person I've met that's known what the conflabbed thing is. I bought it off Roykman and co. a couple of weeks ago. Plays music like you wouldn't believe. A lot better quality than the radio brings you."
"You have taste. Rossini was a genius." The smoker replied.
"That he was. I'm surprised you know him just by ear. It's a shame we haven't had any composers like him in a thousand years." The bar tender sighed.
"Yup. All of the masters of the fine arts vanished at the end of the demon war four hundred years ago. I see you have a Rembrandt painting hanging your wall. You're quite the collector." The smoker complemented.
"Well, even if it doesn't create electricity or defy gravity like the more important artifacts, these are still pieces of history, right? Most Drifters that come in here overlook items such as these." The bar tender admitted.
"True it is. Not only was the supposed 'Demon' race masters of technology, they were also leaders of culture and the arts." The smoker grinned.
"Demons?! What are you talking about? There's no way Demon scum could have created beautiful works such as these!" The bar tender seemed to have become offended.
"Oh it's all true. Rossini, Rembrandt, Wagner, Mozart, Van Gogh. They were all 'Demons'. They were the true leaders of the Renaissance. Too bad it was all destroyed and we were brought down to this simple mud hole we live in today…." The smoker took another swig from his bottle.
"I'm not sure if I'm liking what your sayin buddy. You're not a demonist, are you?" The bar tender stopped rubbing the glass and placed both strong arms on the table.
"And what if I say yes?" The smoker taunted.
"Get out. We don't serve your kind here!" The bar tender pointed to the door.
The smoker causally finished his bottle. He stood up, tipping his hat, preparing for the sun. Jet stood up as well, of course oblivious to all of this. He began walking towards the restrooms as the smoker left. The two crossed paths, and at this moment, time seemed to slow down. The smoker glanced towards Jet, smiling. Jet almost stopped. That face was all too familiar. For some reason, he felt a feeling attack his heart. A feeling of deep dread. There was something unnatural about his man. This moment passed, and the two continued on their course. However, the smoker turned around, preparing a speech for the bar tender and all of the Drifters within.
"Look one, look all you miserable pieces of uncultured, un-evolved Stone Age peons! My name is Samuel Armstrong Custer, but you can call me Dust. I am a Superior, what you monkeys call a demon, a far superior species too highly developed to share this world with you creatures. I'll be in town if you want to send the lynching squads after me. Please do come, or are you too yellow bellied?!" The smoker announced. Jet stopped in his tracks near the back exit he was heading for. The rest of the bar was red with fury. Each Drifter was reaching for his holster. Even the bar tender was pulling out his Coyote M12. Dust continued smiling then suddenly changed into a great cloud of fine dust and drifted out of the bar.
"Quickly! Let's get him! We can't let demon scum live!" A Drifter shouted. Several calls of agreement followed as all of the Drifters piled out after him. The bar tender grabbed a length of hemp rope and his shotgun and joined the fleeting pack. Todd and Alfred watched in disbelief as the bar emptied. The phonograph still heralded the song of the demon in the background.
Jet stood still, allowing his memories to catch up with him. "Dust? The same man I saw vanish into a cloud at Gunner's Heaven? He knew who I was, I could feel it… But as one of the Riflemen, why didn't he strike?"
** *
