Sins of the Father Last Man Standing

This is the last written chapter of this story, its unproofed and will read a lot worse than the ones before I still up it for now.

Sins of the Father Last Man Standing


Chapter 7

The man came out of the doorway; his black coat glittered in the flickering neon-sign over the door. The sign read "Caverns of Eden". He looked over the back street he stood in and lighted a cigarette, He saw some trashcans, and a couple of boxes and two bikes, and his and that of his partner Miguel. Miguel and him where here to pick something up for the new boss, and Miguel was waiting inside till the packet was given to them.

With a deep breath the man drew in smoke from the cigarette and held it for a second in his lungs before he let it out in a long, slow stream of breath. Then he heard a rustling among the boxes, most surely rats, but you did not survive as long in this business when you did not take care of yourself and your surrounding.

A sawed-off, double-barrel shotgun was drawn from a holster of his leg and took a few careful steps towards the boxes, trying to not get an eventual attacker sneaking up his back.

When he reached the boxes the man the gun, pointing it at them, then he kicked the boxes away from him so an eventual hidden person wound get hit by them. The boxes shattered and some rats scrambled away squeaking.

The man took another deep breath from his cigarette and swallowed the smoke satisfactory. "Only rats bah!" he told the world in general and lowered the gun, but not putting it away yet.

As he moved back to the door of the club, breathing out the smoke again, a dark figure rose from the shadows by the bikes, with a few quick and silent steps it reached the man. Metal glittered in the dark and a short silent grunt was heard.

The cigarette fell out of the lifeless lips of the man, the once white paper stained red. It rolled over the asphalt and went out as the body of the man was dragged into the shadows by the trashcans by a 6' tall figure with a cowboy hat.

Irvine reached down into the pocket of the dead man, the man he had just killed, he pulled out the near full packet of cigarettes and a lighter, as he set to clean the knife on the mans shirt he said: "how thoughtful of you, I ran out of smokes about 3 hours ago while waiting here for you, now I don't have to stop to get my own."

The shadows swallowed Irvine once again, only a small wet spot on the asphalt and the now cold rest of the cigarette was left of the scene.


Miguel pulled up his Zipper and closed the door, that had been relaxing after the stress of the night. He walked up to the counter and got himself another drink. "Where the Hell was Carlos?" he thought as he downed the triple shot at once. Picking up the packet from the bartender that the new Boss, Calash, had told them to get he left the club and stepped outside into the cool refreshing night air.

Miguel looked around, Carlos was nowhere to be seen, and he looked over the bikes and the alley not a hint of him. Cursing slightly under his breath as he took the steps down to the bikes, drawing a pistol just to be sure.

Pain flew through his neck as a knife penetrated his jacket and jammed itself into his shoulder. A hard kick hit him in the back and sends him sprawling to the ground. The Pistol was ripped from his hand and flew away into the darkness. Miguel tried to get up but was kicked down again.

He landed flat on his chest, and felt a knee lading on his back, pinning him to the ground. A voice next to his ear whispered: "You want to live right?" Miguel spit out some blood and hissed: "Go away and screw a goat." A metallic hiss was heard as a silenced gun spit out a bullet that ripped away Miguel's pinky finger on the left hand.

"Lets try that again, you want to live." Miguel hesitated a second and then spit out: "Yes." His mysterious assailant chuckled and said: " Where is he, the short blonde that killed the last boss, tell me and I will let you life." Miguel breathed hard: "No, He will kill me if I tell you." A sharp pain went through his neck as the stranger put out a cigarette on his neck: "Whom do you fear more, right at this moment? Him or me?" with the question the stranger pulled the trigger again and Miguel lost another finger.

"I will kill you bastard!" screamed Miguel in pain. "Wrong answer" came back and with a short metallic hiss the stranger blew away Miguel's middle finger. Miguel growled and tried to move, but his injured shoulder mad it impossible to escape the stranger. Then he felt how the gun was pressed between his legs against his private parts: "Ok, I was gracious till now," said the stranger: "but when you don't tell me now where the bastards hides you will be known as the seven fingered Juanita in future!"

Miguel gasped and breathed shallow: " He is on McArdens junkyard." He staggered out. "See, that wasn't to hard," chuckled the stranger: "now give me directions if you are so nice." Miguel breathed deeply and gave directions to the junkyard, as he was finished the pressure against his private parts left. He sighted as the stranger pulled the trigger 3 times and send the bullets through back, neck, and head.

Irvine stood up after he pulled the key of the bike from one of the pocket of the dead man, he lighted a new cigarette and picked up the packet the man he just killed had carried. He ripped it open and inspected the stuff inside, some dyes and one of that gadgets tattoo artists used, what the hell did Zell want to do with that?

The cowboy jumped on the bike, turned the ignition and let the engine roar as he set out into the desert. One thought still in his head: "Whatever the hell did Zell want with the stuff, he would be dead before he could worry about not getting it!"


Calash and Leroy sat in a dimly lit room; Calash was making some last pencil strokes on the naked chest of the big man. Leroy looked nervous, but still eager to see what happened next. "Hey Boss, why do Elephants don't drink Martini?" he asked looking at the patterns on his chest in anticipation.

"Tell me Leroy" was Khans answer as he got new ink on the pencil and did some more runes on the chest of his henchman. "Ever tried to get an olive out of your nose?" said Leroy and his chest rumbled a bit from laughter. Calash waited patiently till the rumble died down and continued with his work.

"Are you sure this will work boss?" asked Leroy with a hint of fear in his voice. Calash did not bother to look up from his work as he answered: "Sure it will, I mean you saw the last guy, we shoot him eight times, and he bled like a pig from the stabs, but he did not die till we undid the rune-spell I set on him, so it will work on you too." Calash finished the series of runes and looked satisfied with his work.

"Ready!" he proclaimed and stood up. He smiled at Leroy, and with a lightning quick motion he stabbed his underling with a small stiletto he draw from his belt. "Only way to see if it really works" he said in a near apologic tone and looked at the big man that was holding his belly with bloody fingers.

A few seconds went by, and then Leroy looked up, with the delighted grin of a small boy that has just seen Santa Claus. "It works boss, I can feel how the wound is closing," he shouted out happy: "Whoa feels weird when your flesh melts together again." Calash smiled nearly fatherly, or rather like a trainer that gave his most beloved animal a treat.

He grinned and said: "No need to tell me about it, but it is a reassuring feeling, isn't it?" Leroy just nodded grinning in return. Calash lit a cigar and poured himself another drink. "Now when we get the Tattoo stuff I can make a permanent version of that, till then try not to bleed to much or you will weaken the spell to much."

"Sure I will boss" chimed Leroy and got another drink from the cooler on the desk. That had been a good night so far.


The nightly sky stretched over the galbadian desert, the stars and the moon gave the scene an eerie light. On the horizon a light stretch of red announced the beginning of a new day.

Irvine looked down at the junkyard from a small hilltop, the engine was still running, he saw about 5 lights moving down there, meaning that he would at least encounter 5 adversaries before he could kill that bastard. He grinned, only meant 5 more notches in his gun today. Carefully he loaded the Exeter with explosive rounds, his twin pistols where loaded with depleted uranium rounds, to give a bad surprise to all people that wanted to hide behind body armor.

The cowboy once more checked all his weapons, laid the Exeter in front of him on the bike and started the engine again. He let the bike roar and run down the hill, straight towards the fence. As the needle hit the 30 mph mark he jumped from the bike, clutching his shotgun, rolled himself up in the soft desert sand. He got to his knees aimed out of the hip and shot at the bike just as it hit the fence. The explosion of the gas-tank ripped a hole into the fence.

Irvine dodged the burning degree and ran into the junkyard. A guard looked at him in a state of shock. Irvine tackled him with his shoulder and pointed his gun straight into the face of the man. "How many are you with the boss?" he demanded to know. "Eight" answered the man still to shocked for any reaction. "No seven!" echoed Irvine and shot both barrels into the face of the man.

Two more guards came into his view, guns drawn, Irvine rolled over his shoulder and started firing at them.


Leroy grabbed his shirt from the floor and began to put it on again, some blood still was encrusting his belly, but the cut had healed in a matter of seconds. Calash poured him another drink and he had to wonder about his new boss once again, the small framed man could drink more than he without even getting as much as a buzz, but then again he had seen how the man had single handed defeated 6 armed bouncers as he had taken over the Club in Deling.

Calash was storing the tools he had used to draw the runes carefully in a velvet bag; he was humming a tune Leroy did not remember.

Suddenly an explosion ripped through the silence. Leroy looked to the security monitor and flipped through the different cameras till he got a clear picture of what happened. He saw a man shooting at two of the lads, and taking them out with a shotgun at a distance that most would not manage with an assault riffle.

Calash looked to the screen and smiled: "I know that guy, he saved my life once, he seems to be pissed for what I did to his little girl." Leroy looked at him but Calash made a dismissing gesture. "Its not so important, but why don't you take your gun and field test that new toy I gave you, it should be fun and I will have something decent to watch at TV.

Leroy grinned at Calash as he grabbed his shotgun from the table: "Sure Boss that will be prime time TV, when I am finished with that son of a bitch." Calash waved at him: "Have fun Leroy, and enjoy your new powers."


Irvine reloaded his Exeter behind a stack of old cars, six people had jumped him so far and six were down. Sweat ran down his cheeks, he was fighting for breath, but still unhurt. Only one bullet hat hit him so far, and that had been deflected by his body armor. He finished reloading the gun and ran dodged towards the main shack.

He saw a motion in the outmost edge of his view and hit the ground, same instant a burst of three solid slugs ripped through the metal that had been a car formerly. With a mighty leap Irvine took cover but not without looking into the direction of his new enemy and making out a tall broad shouldered man.

Irvine got up and fired blindly into the direction of the man, bringing him to take cover himself, then he jumped to his feet and sprinted up a flight of steel stairs still firing. His rounds ripped through scrap metal and junk showering the scene with shrapnel of splitters and sparks.

Leroy emerged from his hiding the gun raised and shooting, as he send bullet after bullet into Irvine's direction he shouted: " Hey man, How do you shoot a blue elephant?" The metal groaned under the double strain of Irvine weight and the ripping bullets and finally the stair gave way under his feet. The cowboy jumped at the last possible moment while running and managed to get onto the heap of junk before the stair collapsed.

Irvine lay there panting for a few seconds, than he scrambled up to his knees and retaliated the fire again on his enemy. "With a gun for blue elephants" the man shouted as the wild aimed shots of Irvine missed him. He ran across the yard to shorten the distance and giving Irvine a worse angle to hit him while Irvine furiously reloaded his Exeter.

Still reloading Irvine moved along the heap of junk to get a better position to shot, the man asked now: "How do you shoot a red elephant?" And rammed a new magazine into his shotgun as he himself got into cover again. Irvine drew one of his pistols, its ammunition would go through the heap of junk the man had taken cover like a glowing knife through a thin layer of ice. He aimed and emptied the magazine of the gun, spraying the bullets widely.

As he heard a short curse of pain he grinned, so much for that one, all he had to do now was making sure that his enemy would be dead for sure. He rammed a new magazine into the pistol, put it away and grabbed his Exeter holding it ready as he carefully left his cover.

"You choke the red elephant till he is blue and then you take the gun for blue elephants" was the last thing Irvine heard before a solid slug out of the shotgun of his enemy hit him square in the chest and send him sprawling of the heap to the ground 20 feet below.

Irvine hit the ground hard and his chest seemed to burn, the multiplayer Kevlar armor he wore had managed to hold the bullet, but he felt as if a sledgehammer had hit his chest. Worse yet, he could not see his Exeter around. He saw the siluette of the man appear on top of the heap and instinctively grabbed a throwing knife from his wrist and flicked it into the face of the man, all in one fluent motion. He did not waste a second to see if he had hit but scrambled to his knees and ran between the junk cars in search of his weapon.

Leroy saw the motion and barely managed to move his weapon so that the blade struck into it and not his face, then he cursed himself, he could have finished that asshole off instead, the wound as well as the bullet wounds would not have killed him, but his reflexes had instead made him deflect it.

He jumped down to the ground, barely feeling an itch as his ankle sprained and immediately healed again. As he sat out towards the rows of junk cars he asked the man he tried to kill: "And how do you shot a green elephant?"

"Fuck you" cam Irvine's answer as he ran through the lines of old cars, he had spotted his Exeter and wanted to get his gun before the madmen could finish him off, he knew that his armor would not withstand another hit and didn't took any chances.

Leroy grinned and raised his gun as he saw his running victim: "You tell him a naughty joke," He shouted nearly cheerfully as the bullets ripped holes into the junk around his victim: "you wait till he blushes bright red," Irvine tried to double his speed while dodging the projectiles his Exeter lay only a few feet away from him. "And when he turns blue," Leroy chimed along as he gritted his teeth in concentration to get a better aim. "You shot him with the gun for blue elephants" he ended as Irvine took a last big jump over a heap of junk grabbing the Exeter in the progress.

Leroy changed the magazine again and walked slowly towards the pile of rubbish where Irvine was hiding, the sun had risen a bit more and turned the scene into a red light, all around little fire were burning from the explosive shells that Irvine has fired. He advanced the spot where his adversary was and raised the shotgun to finish him off.

"So last one how do you shoot a yellow elephant?" he asked still advancing. Irvine rose from him hiding like an avenging angel, blood and dirt smeared over his face, his coat hanging in shreds. "EVER FUCKING SEEN A FUCKING YELLOW ELEPHANT?" He yelled and pressed the trigger of his gun; both barrels spit their deadly load into Leroy's chest, which was ripped into shreds.

As the body of the tall men fell to the ground Irvine grabbed a crumbled packet of cigarettes from his pocket, the same one he had taken from Carlos. He took a last crumbled cigarette from it and lighted it at the hot barrel of his shotgun, drawing the smoke deeply into his lungs.


Irvine stepped out of the shadows of the junk-piles still smoking his cigarette. He walked towards the main building, when the shack had earned that title. He held out the Exeter one handed while grabbing for a potion with the other. The cigarette was between his lips.

A metallic buzz ripped through the silence of the environment, a trail of bullets ran up to Irvine and sprayed dust into the air, and then a series of bullets pierced his right hand and the Exeter he was holding in it. Irvine didn't make a noise as the gun fell from his numb fingers and hit the ground; a small trail of blood ran down his hand and splattered to the dust, leaving a wet trail.

With a gasp he coughed up some smoke the cigarette still between his lips, he looked at his trusted gun and saw that it was broken beyond hope. Then he turned around, slowly to face his new attacker, it was Zell. The Bastard held a smoking submachine gun in his hands and grinned at him like a small boy that was about to steal some sweets.

Calash was leaning in a lazy position against a staple of crates, he spoke: "So, the lone Ranger has come to take revenge for what the bad cowboy did to his noble Lady friend, or was the word I looked for Saloon-whore?" Calash spit out with loathing in his voice. He pointed the submachine gun at Irvine's midsection and said: "All could be over now by just about now when I would squeeze that trigger here for the fraction of an inch."

Slowly he wandered out of the shadow of the crates into the yard, his shadow casted incredible long over the ground by the rising sun. "But that would hardly be the ideal ending for a really shootout good against evil in the desert, so I will play by the rules of that kind of thing" he spoke again and threw the submachine gun away from him to the ground, halfway between him and Irvine.

Then he took a broad stand and pulled his gun into an easy draw position. Irvine looked at him with a stoned face, hate was all that was in him at that moment. He pulled back the remains of his coat revealing the gun at his left hip, he drew a deep breath, drawing fresh desert air and smoke into his lungs at the same time, then he spit out the stump of the cigarette. It made a long trail before finally landing in the sand and let a small trail of smoke rising into the air.

Both man stared at each other for seemingly an eternity; the red desert sun illuminated the half of their faces with an eerie red. A soft and warn breeze was blowing a light trail of dust around the place. The only noises to be heard where the slowly outgoing fires of the previous firefight.

The scene was the eye of the storm, the sudden calmness of which everyone know it wont last and the violence would return harder than before. Both man breathed shallow, each seemed to wait for a hint of action, a sign to draw his gun and kill the other.

A last wisp of smoke trailed up from the cigarette then it went out.

Time froze. Irvine saw like in slow motion how Calash's hand went towards the gun on his hip, but more than that he felt how his own hand moved, nearly without his will letting it move. His hand touched the cool steel of the gun an eternal fraction of a second before Calash's hand did. The gun sprang out of the holster and his arm went upwards to aim and deliver the killing shot. The cold steel of the muzzle felt like an extension of its own, destructive will.

He pointed the gun at Calash's Chest….

Time went back to normal as something hit his back with tremendous force and ripped through his back, leaving the chest with a wet sound. Everything grew light and detached as his fingers grew to weak to hold the gun, less press the trigger to deliver his revenge. His knees went weak and a cold darkness engulfed him completely,

Irvine was dead before he hit the ground.


Calash grinned satisfied: "Splendid job Leroy, you got our Mister Romantic Lone Ranger here right by the balls" he exclaimed.

Leroy breathed hard and leaned on his gun, his chest still hurt like hell, but the spell of his boss had made him survive the hit, and that was all that counted. Well that and that he had killed the bastard that hurt him. He grinned back at the boss: "My pleasure, the Wanker learned that he better called me the same as a ten thousand pound elephant! SIR" he said and spit out some more blood.

Calash bursted in laugher: "To bad he cannot make anything anymore out of that knowledge……….."