CHAPTER V

VALENTINE, NEW HANOVER, JUNE 7TH 1900

As the train slowed to a stop after a long, almost two days ride from New Austin, Vic was nudged awake as the enormous locomotive shuddered to a halt. There wasn't many other folks on board by that point, most passengers having all stepped off earlier in their journeys. Vic was one of only five people left in the train cart, but it was more than clear that he was the only one not from this area. In comparison to the two old hags, young woman and another older fella, Vic was noticeably a little more tanned and a little darker in skin tone thanks to his exposure to the hotter weather and open sun back in New Austin.

Vic had been on the train for a whole day and a half, with only a couple of stops at different stations to take a piss. April was stored in the horse-cart at the back of the train and he had done nothing most of the journey but watch out of the window as the lands and terrains around him changed. New Austin was always a mixture of glorious browns and golds thanks to the stretching desert patches and empty chaparrals, both being boiled by the sun. But as the train moved further away, into West Elizabeth and then eventually into New Hanover, the views were suddenly a rich and fresh shade of green as the grass-covered hills and fields seemed to overpower much of anything else. Trees were everywhere in New Hanover, something that was a real rare sight far out West.

Being the only man clearly not from that state and also sporting a U.S Marshall's badge, Vic had attracted both suspicious and curious eyes, whilst also causing shy and fearful eyes to look anywhere but in his direction. The paler people of New Hanover somehow seemed quieter and more relaxed than the population out in New Austin, something Vic really couldn't understand.

The Tumbleweed Deputy checked himself over, making sure nothing had been stolen from him during his snooze. He'd changed into a fresh white shirt, taken off the vest and instead put a smart dress tie around his neck that hung right down to his belt buckle, making him definitely look more desirable to the common thief. Everything was still there though, from his satchel of provisions and cigarettes to his LeMat's. All he needed now was his horse and he could finally get to hunt the two outlaws he was sure he'd been dreaming about every time he had slept in his seat.

Vic saw the huge wooden sign out through the window. Stuck to the glorious, big yellow building, it read 'VALENTINE STATION', so the maverick deputy knew for sure he was in the right place. Strawberry was the last town Payne and his young pal had been seen in, but the reports had all stated they had headed further East, and Valentine was the next town in line.

"Such a dirty place." Muttered one of the old hags with disgust.

"Most places should catch up to Saint Denis. Now that is a fine town." The other old witch-looking lady said back.

Vic was getting impatient as the two old hateful women slowly made their way down the steps of the train and onto the wooden platform. What hit Vic first as he stepped onto the wooden deck was the weather. New Hanover was so much colder than New Austin, just by nature. There was a colder breeze in the air and he could've mistaken it as winter time if he hadn't known for a fact that it was the dawn of summer.

Again, the Tumbleweed deputy felt the shifty eyes and lowered brows of the bystanders waiting on the platform to board the same train. Vic felt it a funny thing that a man of the law probably attracted the most fearful and angry judgments of the people he was there to protect. After so many years in the job he still didn't understand it and seldom tried to anymore.

After moving confidently passed the small crowd, his hands resting instinctively on both of his LeMat handles, Vic entered Valentine Station and saw again how different things were there in comparison to where he had come from. The Station just smelt fresher, the paint was all well done, all the chairs were shiny and new. Even the clerks behind the counter's were dressed up like they were ready for a ball. Everyone around made Vic feel like a dirtbag, which he was sure as hell someone had thought of him as he'd walked in.

After the man in front had been served, Vic was next in line to speak to one of the station clerks. Stood behind the barred window with just a small opening for hands, the man turned to Vic and smiled.

"Howdy stranger, name's Alden. What can I do for you today?" Asked the clerk, a bit overly friendly.

"Deputy from Tumbleweed, I'm looking for some people." Vic replied, his voice direct and calm.

"From where, you say?"

Vic sighed, "Tumbleweed. Settlement in New Austin."

"Oh… Never heard of it, all due respect sir… Uh, Deputy." The clerk replied, stammering and laughing forcefully.

A train station clerk who had never heard of Tumbleweed. Vic couldn't really say he was surprised. His little home town was pretty invisible to the world and getting ever more so as time went on. It was so far out West and off the beaten track that even citizens of New Austin itself sometimes forgot it existed. It was the way the clerk kept stuttering his words and became nervous that got Vic's attention.

"I'm looking for a man named Roland Payne. You might've heard of him?" Vic asked bluntly, after a long stare.

The clerk stopped and looked away to think, "He a business man?"

"Wanted man"

"Oh, my god. Can't say I know much about that, sir."

"Deputy."

The clerk's eyes darted right back, "Right… Deputy."

"Anywhere I should maybe ask around? Can you at least tell me that?" Vic said, getting closer to the counter.

"Saloon, most probably. If any bad eggs have been seen or heard about 'round these parts, the saloon is where you'd get most in the loop." Replied the clerk, rather quickly.

Vic shot the man another blank and cold stare, "Thank you. Pleasure speaking."

"Pleasures all mine, sir!... Sorry, Deputy!" Yelled the clerk as Vic turned and started walking out.

Vic smoked one of his cigarettes just outside the station at the bottom of the wooden ramp. Standing in the wet mud and grass, his boots were already drenched in dirt since the place had no pavement and wasn't just dry sand and dust like out West. Vic started to see what the old hags meant.

His pack of cigarettes was almost empty, with only three left after the one already between his lips. Vic soon added a new pack to his list of priorities.

Valentine seemed so active and alive. It was mid-afternoon and already there were constant wagons going in and out of town, farmers and ranchers herding sheep in and out of pens and people causing ruckus' outside of what Vic assumed was a smaller saloon on the right side of town. Dirt was getting splattered on the deputy's trousers too, as horses were also persistently galloping past each way. New Hanover was clearly more inhabited and restless than New Austin, and closer to the ideal 'civilization' that Vic had only heard about once in a while back where he came from. Back there, this idea of 'civilization' and 'society' was a myth, only ever heard about in tales about cities like Saint Denis. Now, standing in just Valentine, the Tumbleweed deputy could see how those tales came to be told.

The settlement was a series of buildings, big and small, made of hard, dark wood that stood upon the slimy mud that served as the people's ground to walk on. Aside from it being cooler, Vic noticed a slight mist in the air, like a gentle fog. Probably from some recent rainfall, which would explain the texture of the filth he was standing on. He had never been this far East ever before and was starting to wonder whether he liked it or not.

Valentine was for sure an image to behold in and of itself, but then Vic's eyes were finally caught by a sight high above town, across the tall trees, far in the distance yet so clear. There were a bunch of huge, pale-white, snow covered mountains. They looked mythical, as if they'd be unreachable. Vic couldn't fathom that they were probably just a few miles further North. He had never seen anything like them before, truly a testament to how different this land felt to him.

"Here's the girl, Deputy!" Shouted the fella from the horse-cart.

Vic turned, blowing out the last of his cigarette, and saw the dirty man. He was covered in all the manure that plagued the cart he had to work in every day. That, mixed with his sweat, meant he could be smelt from a mile off.

"Thank you, how was she?" Vic asked, looking up at April as the man lead her.

"Not as bad as some of the rest, I guess. Fine looking horse though, sir, if I may say."

"Appreciate that, I'm sure she does too." Vic mumbled, more interested in petting April's long snout.

Vic then noticed the man was still there watching, out of breath, hands resting on his hips.

"Something else?" Vic asked.

"Oh no sorry, sir… Just usually get a tip, is all." The young man asked, now rubbing his palms together nervously.

Vic winced in his direction, "You want a tip?"

Suddenly the man's face, behind all the muck and horseshit, dropped.

"Okay, here's a tip. Don't ask for tips. Then you might get 'em."

Stunned and at a loss for words, the young, smelly horse-handler watched as Vic grabbed April's leashes and started walking through the smudge and wet dirt, slipping a little with every step, up the path further into town.

More curious, uneasy and conspicuous eyes watched Vic as he made his way to the main street of Valentine, leading his white, pearlescent mare down the muddy road with him. His Deputy badge was again glistening in the sunlight. That, along with the shirt and tie, left no other possibilities in the residents' minds as to what Vic was. But just like the people on the train, they knew he was clearly not a lawman from around here.

Might as well be a fucking animal, Vic thought to himself, trying his best not to provoke the eyes that stalked him.

A lot of folks in town sat on the edges of the wooden decks of the buildings' entrances. They were smoking, drinking and bullshitting amongst other things. Aside from the merchant and delivery wagons, hardly anyone else seemed to be actually doing much of anything. Vic felt the only person there with any actual business or work to do.

Stopping just at the end of the main street, which was still caked in dark and slippery mud, Vic hitched April on a post just outside of the dark cabin-like place that was labelled 'GENERAL STORE'. He'd walked down the dirt and observed the store that sold weapons, the Valentine jailhouse, the main saloon of town and now the building he wanted to visit first.

Valentine looked just like Armadillo back in New Austin, Vic noticed. Except this place was colder, louder, crammed with people, dirtier and therefore smellier. The maverick deputy couldn't really tell if he was stood in mud, more horseshit, or maybe even a mix of both.

"Stay here, girl." Vic whispered to April, patting her neck and making sure the leash was tight around the post.

Just down from the General Store, he saw a building still under construction, being hammered and nailed together by a couple of people who finally seemed like they were doing something other than sitting on their asses.

Vic then finally saw on the opposite row of buildings, there was the 'Valentine Hotel'. It was the only really nice and acceptable looking building in town other than the station. Strangely though, the hotel was based right across the dirt from the big barn of town. Now the deputy knew where the sudden smell of manure was coming from.

Snapping himself out of the stink-induced trance, Vic took a moment to close his eyes, reluctantly breathe and then refocus his mind. When his eyes reopened, he noticed a scrawny old fella hobbling past, more mud on his face than on his shoes. His own eyes were squinting and his mouth was twisting, shooting Vic one of the most disapproving looks the deputy had ever received.

Vic smirked and laugh silently, "What a fucking place."

When the Deputy entered the general store, a bell went off above the door and it creaked. Nobody would ever be sneaking into the place, that was for sure.

"Hello there, sir! Haven't seen you around here before." Said the owner, a big guy with a bigger beard and long hair.

"Yeah, howdy." Vic said nodding, his voice low.

The store was ram packed more than any store out West. Vegetables, fruit, booze, even candy was there in abundance. Place smelled immensely better than the other side of the door Vic suddenly realised, as it wasn't a struggle to breathe anymore.

"You from Lemoyne?" Suddenly asked the owner, nice and friendly.

"New Austin. Where's Lemoyne?" Vic asked, brows low.

"Oh, Lemoyne's the next state, south-east of here. It's pretty hot and humid there. Just noticed the sun on your face is all, sir."

"No friend, I'm from a faraway land. You ain't heard of it, trust me." Vic replies, still gazing at the store's wares.

"Okay then," Chuckled the guy, "What can I get you?"

Vic then turned himself to the owner, who instantly noticed the silver, star-shaped badge on the right side of Vic's shirt.

"Cigarettes? I'm almost out." Vic asked, curious.

"Of course, Sheriff. Just over there above the cans of beans." The owner said respectfully, pointing directly ahead.

"Just a deputy, friend." Vic said with a little laugh.

"Oh, I do apologise."

"No need. First time I've been called a Sheriff." Vic said with another smirk.

Vic saw that there were not only cigarettes there, but packs of what were called 'Premium Cigarettes'. The lawman didn't really know what the difference was other than the price. And because of that, he stuck to the regulars.

"Just two packs of these please, friend." Said the deputy, waving one pack in the air.

"Of course. That'll be just $3, please." Replied the shopkeeper.

"$3? Jesus… You packing for early retirement?"

The owner stopped and then went as quiet as his store, looking blankly at Vic's face.

Holding out the money, Vic smiled "I'm just making a joke."

"Oh! Of course!" The owner then loosened up, forcing a laugh, "Thank you, deputy!"

"Much obliged." Vic said, turning to leave.

"Pleasure to help in any way I can, sir." Kindly said the shopkeeper, causing Vic to stop.

The maverick lawman thought for a moment, rubbing his thick black goatee and moustache. So far this shop owner had been the only real friendly person in town, aside from the fake clerk in the train station.

"Maybe you could help me actually, friend." Vic said, his voice low but curious, walking back to the counter.

"Absolutely, what else can I do for you?"

"I've came a real long way to get here. I'm looking for some people. Some real bad people. You might know about them." Vic told the owner, quietly but surely.

The burly shop owner leaned forward to listen more carefully, looking around to make sure nobody was about to walk in and that there was nobody listening in through the thin glass windows.

"Two outlaws, causing chaos across the land. One's called Roland Payne, you heard of him?" Vic eagerly asked.

"Certainly have. Be a hard challenge to find someone 'round here that don't know that name."

Vic nodded, "Yeah, well he killed two of my fellow Deputy's in Strawberry a few weeks back. Reports have it that he fled further East afterwards, along with his younger outlaw pal whose name nobody seems to know."

"Sawyer." The owner suddenly said, "That's the young one's name"

"How'd you know that?"

"Well, we've all heard the stories here. All due respect, deputy, but you're clearly not from around this place. Payne is the main guy of the two, killing and robbing people, or worse. But Sawyer's the name of the younger outlaw he rides with. Obviously, the stories of the two are just... More well known in these parts." Replied the man, making a good point.

"Yeah, okay… I get that." Vic nodded again, "Where can I find 'em? I've came a long way to bring those two down."

"I'm not sure, sir. The two of 'em have been through Valentine once or twice, causing fights, leaving some people dead. But I haven't heard anything about them in weeks now."

Vic sighed, closed his eyes and then paced around the creaky floorboards for a minute or two as the owner stood and watched.

"Know anyone in town who might've heard more? Maybe know where they are?" Vic asked, shrugging his shoulders.

The shopkeeper started thinking to himself, his face twisting and wrinkling with deep thought. Vic wasn't expecting a lot from him, but anything at all was better than nothing.

"You're probably best-off stopping by the Saloon, next door. Lot's of people from all over the place get in there on the daily. Either stopping for a drink or some coital activities while on their travels." He suggested, with what seemed like strong confidence.

Vic stood, thumbs hooked into his belt again, "Okay, I'll try there then, thank you."

"Pleasure, deputy. Sure hope you find them."

The Tumbleweed Deputy nodded to the shopkeeper and headed towards the door to leave, but not before stopping once more.

"So, you've all heard more stories about these two cocksuckers? Probably stories closer to home?"

The owner shrugged, "Guess so."

"Tell me then, friend. What exactly am I in for with these two bastards when I find 'em?"

After a moment of silence between the men, nothing but the smell of fruit, vegetables and cheese infecting the wooden room, the shopkeeper finally replied.

"Something dangerous."

Vic heard the man loud and clear, contemplated what he had said and then nodded, finally ringing the bell and hearing the creak again as he left the store.

As he stood on the deck outside the General Store, Vic finally embraced the colder weather of New Hanover. Taking a deep breath, wondering what he was gonna have to do to find Roland and the kid he now knew as 'Sawyer', Vic made sure April was still hitched and then turned left, heading towards the Saloon.

Just as Vic got to the entrance shutters, a guy stumbled out, burped and fell flat into the mud below. From outside he could hear gentle piano music and the murmur of the customers. Vic knew he wasn't about to be the most popular guy to walk in, but he did it anyways.

As the shutters waved to a stop after Vic had walked through them, everyone took a moment to look him over. The barman did it, the customers at the bar did it, the group of rough looking fells playing poker did it. Even the barber at the back took a look over, could've cut the young guy he was shaving.

Vic looked everyone in the eye, not flinching or showing any fear. If the years doing the job in New Austin had taught him one thing, it was to stand his ground to the job he was there to do. No matter the location or the people.

Eventually, after what seemed like an age, everyone got back to their drinks and what they were doing, letting Vic walk calmly towards the bar. He had to slip between two fella's who thought it was clever not to move for him.

"One beer, please." Vic said, a little loud.

The barman just nodded once and went to fetch a bottle, leaving Vic between the two half-cut guys.

"Not from here?" One of them slurred slightly.

"What gave it away?" Vic replied without eye contact.

"You're almost as red as an apple, boy." Said the other guy, equally as drunk.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Weren't meant as one." The guy on Vic's left then snarled.

Vic slowly turned his head to the man, his stare taking the saloon's temperature down a few degrees.

"I know your type, and already I know where you're trying to take things." Vic said quietly, "But if I was you, I'd leave the bar, take a fucking seat and drink up."

Listening close, the man smirked, one eye shut a little, trying real hard to show he wasn't fazed.

"Or what?" He said.

"Or I'm gonna stick one of these guns, up your ass, sideways. You hear me, boy?" Vic whispered, teeth on show like an agitated wolf.

The drunkard swallowed deep and hard, Vic could tell by the way his throat moved. Didn't take long for him to tip his worn hat and do exactly as Vic said.

The deputy then turned to the other boozer at the bar, who quickly did the same and joined his friend at a table across the room.

"One beer. 35 cents please." The barman said, coming back and setting the bottle on the counter.

"Appreciated." Vic replied, dropping a few coins.

"So, out of towner?" Asked the barman, like he'd probably done more than once that day.

"Pretty clear, it would seem."

"Where from?"

"New Austin."

"Damn, that's a long way."

"Oh, you have no fucking idea." Vic laughed a little, taking a gulp of the bottle.

Vic turned and leaned on his side against the bar, taking a look around. Now he'd noticed the women strolling around, flaunting their best parts to every man around. He could've probably done with the pick-me-up, but Vic had always resented paying for it. Just never seemed right to him somehow.

"I' noticed that badge on your shirt, sir. You a Marshall?" Asked the barman, re-organizing the empty jugs.

Vic didn't look at him, "Deputy. Here on business."

"Huh. Dangerous business?"

"Apparently it will be when I get to it." Vic replied, taking another mouthful.

"It's pretty far to come for some dangerous business, ain't it?" He asked, curious.

"I'm after dangerous people." Vic finally admitted, turning back to the man who served him, "In fact, you might've heard of 'em."

"I'll do my best, deputy. But I get a lot of folks come through here, it's hard to keep track, I'll be honest."

"Roland Payne? You've surely heard the name." Vic said aloud.

"I have, he's been here a few times. Pretty sure he was here recently too, maybe a few days back." The barman said, trying to think.

"And his younger pal?"

"That kid was only with him the once. If it was Payne that was here some days back, he was alone that time." Nodded the saloon owner, making sure his memory was correct.

Vic listened and then winced again in thought. Taking another drink, he stood wondering. Who the hell were these two guys he was after? What the fuck kinda duo were they? It was starting to make even him, an experienced man of the law, ask questions. Which he rarely did of his targets anymore.

"Any words being passed around about Payne? Or even Sawyer, the kid?" Vic asked after another drink, burping a little.

"Nah, noth'n really. Whenever Payne's in town, people try to avoid him if they wanna stay in one piece. He might've stopped at the hotel last he was here, but you'd be better off asking there." Suggested the barman, a very honest seeming guy.

Vic listened and then gave a nod of agreement and gratitude. The barman did the same and then turned to serve another young guy who'd just got to the bar.

Drinking and thinking is all Vic could then do. Valentine's hotel was probably his best bet now to find either Roland or Sawyer. But the fact that Payne was last seen without his usual acquaintance was odd. Vic started to wonder if Payne had killed his own partner in crime. It would certainly fit with all the stories that had been told about the man.

Vic stood for a minute, gave off a big sigh and then drank the last of his beer before going to head out again. Before he could, however, he suddenly felt a hand tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he found it was a younger guy, about as tall as him, who'd just been served at the bar. Observing him up and down, Vic realized it was the same fella who'd been getting a shave earlier as he'd walked in. The maverick lawman had no idea who it was that had found him.

"Sorry, did I hear you asking around for a 'Roland Payne'?" Asked the young man, seeming very eager.

Vic squinted a little, "I did, why? You got some info I could use?"

"Not exactly," replied the stranger, "But I'm looking for him myself. Maybe we could have a little talk?"

Vic started to get suspicious, yet admittedly very curious, "You're looking for him too? And who might you be, exactly?"

The stranger looked away at the floor and then around the room before leaner closer.

"Name's Sawyer. Think I heard you say you were looking for me too?" Sawyer whispered closely.

Vic's eyes widened as the words hit him. It was one of them, one of the men he was sent to kill. It now made more sense. This guy was young, calm and clearly keeping low profile and had just been getting a shave. His entire young face was clearly fresh, making him probably less recognizable.

"Buy you a beer?" Sawyer asked casually.

"Sure." Vic replied sternly.

And as the Tumbleweed lawman decided to take Sawyer up on the offer of a little conversation, his hands instinctively ventured closer to his guns.