Sheriff McMahon


The sheriff looked down at the mountain of paperwork on his desk. Arrest reports court orders and wanted posters piled up on all sides. He picked one up, almost randomly- another madman on the loose, apparently.

Shane sighed. As he had grown up, amongst the cowboys and outlaws, his only wish had been to follow in his father's footsteps and become Sheriff of Deadwood. He'd had visions of battling lone gunmen in the street, and protecting the innocent from dangerous cowboys. Sitting behind a desk, going blind from ploughing through report after report had not been part of this fantasy.

Deadwood had calmed down since his father's day. Robert McMahon had been one of the most feared law keepers- after clearing Deadwood of all the scum of the west, the outlaws and criminals had kept their distance. The fear that had kept them away and been passed down to Shane, and he was now just as feared as his father had been before him. Now Deadwood was a haven for bounty hunters and regulators, who created just enough trouble with their rivalries to stop Shane getting bored enough o give up the job entirely.

Two such bounty hunters were currently sleeping off their hangovers in the cells. Shane thought back to the night before with a grin that was almost a grimace. It was just his luck that the two best hunters in the west had decided to ride into Deadwood the same day – and call in to the same saloon. If he didn't know any better, Shane would swear they did it on purpose.

"And naturally the two biggest ego's in town had to prove who was the best," Shane said to the now stirring, rather dishevelled looking forms, laid out in their separate cells. The sheriff unlocked the first door, and roughly shook the body awake. The hunter looked up at the sheriff with his watery, bloodshot eyes, and groaned as he felt his headache kicking in.

"Steve I'm getting a little tired of throwing your ass in jail," Shane said, wearily.

"Then why keep doing it? Why not just leave me alone?" replied the hunter, grumpily. Steve Austin was one of the most feared and best bounty hunters in the land; he was famous throughout the country for his ability to bring in the wildest outlaws. He was equally famous for his ability to get drunk, and start a fight wherever he went.

"Well, because it's my job." Shane replied. "And every time you and Johnson bump in to each other you cause another riot. Do you have any idea how much damage you too caused last night?"

Austin grinned and rubbed a hand over his bald head.

"Do you even remember how this ridiculous rivalry of yours started in the first place?" Shane continued.

"Sure…we wanted to see who was the best, he couldn't stand it when I won."

"No…if I remember correctly, you two got into a drunken brawl, which only ended with me throwing not only the two of you, but also half of the damn town in jail!"

"Exactly," replied Austin, smartly. "We never get to finish the damn fight. You always break up the party before it gets settled."

"Yes, well, that's because I know your method of 'settling'." Shane said, with a wry grin.

A loud groan emitted from the other cell.

"Let me the hell out of here," rumbled a deep voice.

Shane left Austin to recover from his headache, and walked to the other cell.

"McMahon, let me out of this damn cell. I don't deserve this, it was that idiot who started the fight – I was just minding my own business…" came the voice from the dishevelled figure in the cell. His clothes, once fine, had taken on a distinctly crumpled look, and his hair was in varying states of disarray.

The Sheriff sighed, giving the man an unbelieving look. "Johnson, I was there, remember? I do not call hitting Austin over the head with a billiard cue, 'minding your own business',"

"So that's where that lump came from," grumbled Austin from the other cell, gingerly rubbing the back of his head.

"Well, sorry if I mistook that shiny head of yours for the ball," answered Austin's cell mate. Dwayne Johnson was perhaps the only man in the country who could match Austin's skill in tracking and hunting, and the rivalry between them grew with the comparisons. "You gonna let me out, now?" he continued.

"Ok, fine. I'm sick of hearing your whining." Shane unlocked the cell. "Go on, get the hell out of here. But stay away from The Fortuna, ok? There's a lot of people in there that you two pissed off last night, so you would do well to stay well clear." Shane warned.

The hunter stood up, and sauntered out of his cell, dusting off his expensive hat, before placing it on his head. "Sheriff, you have Dwayne Johnson's word on it."

"Yeah, for what it's worth," growled Austin. He had finally made it off his bunk, and was stood leaning against the bars of his cell.

"That goes for you too, Austin." Shane said, unlocking his cell. "Stay away from The Fortuna, and each other, you got me? I got bigger things to worry about than two goddamn hunters with ego problems."

"Like what?" asked Johnson, intrigued.

"Never you mind, you just go on about your business. I'll talk to you later." Shane said, motioning for Johnson to leave.

The hunter turned to leave the office; Shane was careful to block Austin's way, should he have a last ditch attempt to get even with the younger hunter.

"See ya around, Austin." Johnson said, grinning slyly at the older man.

"You better hope you don't, you sorry son of a bitch." Austin growled.

Johnson looked back at where Austin was standing in the doorway of his cell. Raising one eyebrow in a cocky come-on, he grinned and left the jailhouse.

Shane shook his head, and gave a silent prayer for a quiet night that was never going to happen. He moved out of the remaining hunter's way, and Austin half walked half staggered across the small office.

"No no, not you Austin. You aren't leaving yet. Sit down, I want to talk to you."

Shane sat down behind his desk and rubbed his burning eyes. He really needed to get some sleep.

"What's troubling ya, son?" Austin asked, his surly demeanour of a few minutes past gone, and replaced by a look of concern for his younger friend.

Shane looked up at the hunter. "Steve, we've been friends a long time, so I'm going to try and appeal to your good sense, cause I know you got some in that thick headed skull of yours."

"Shane, if you are going to ask me to leave Johnson alone, don't even bother. That youngster needs an ass whooping, and I'm gonna be the one to give it to him."

"That may be so, and I'll agree with ya, he is an arrogant son of a bitch…in fact he reminds me of someone not a million miles away from here," Shane said, looking pointedly at Austin.

"But," Shane continued before the hunter could retort, "like I said, that is not my main concern at the moment."

"Is this about that guy? The guy who's been killing all those people down south?"

"How did you know about him?" asked Shane, surprised at how quickly Austin had guessed at what was bothering him.

"Word gets around. Guy rode in yesterday, said he heard that he'd killed four families up Tombstone way, women, children, even the goddamn dog in some cases."

Shane nodded. "I got a report in this morning. They're calling him The Undertaker, 'cause that's how he is – cold, brutal, treats everyone as though they were dead already. And it looks like he's heading our way."

"Do you want me to go after him, is that what this is about?" the hunter said, with a glimmer of excitement in his ice-cold blue eyes.

"No, no, that is exactly what I do not want you to do. I want you to let the law handle this one, Steve. I do not want you going after this guy…I dunno, I've got a bad feeling about him…"

"Aww, Shane, I'm touched that you worry about me, I really am." the hunter replied, with just a hint of sarcasm. "But don't you worry about me, I can look after myself."

"Steve, I am telling you not to go after this guy!" Shane said in exasperation. "I've looked at reports from all over the country, and this crazy bastard is headed right for us. I'm telling you this because you are well respected around here, and I don't want a goddamn stampede of bounty hunters and lynch mobs going out into the hills and getting themselves killed! Do you understand me?"

"Alright Shane, ok." Steve said, seeing how bothered the young sheriff was by this. "I'll make sure we let the law handle this one, and if anyone gets any ideas about going after him, I'll make sure they lose 'em real fast."

"Thank you, Steve, I appreciate it," Shane said, inwardly letting out a sign of relief. "Another thing, though – does Johnson know about this guy?"

"I'd assume for now that he does. That little bastard thinks he knows everything."

"Then he might be thinking about going after him too. Can I ask you to keep an eye on him? I know he's the only hunter in the country who won't listen to a word you say, but can you try and keep him distracted here long enough for us to catch this guy? 'Cause when he hears about the $2000 reward that's on his head –"

"Two thousand dollars? Are you kidding me?" Austin asked.

"Steve…" the sheriff said warily, "There is more to life than just money, and besides, you promised…"

"Aw hell. Fine, "Austin replied, reluctantly, grumbling under his breath. "But I don't know what you want me to do about Johnson. First you tell me to stay away from him, now you want me to baby sit the little bastard, I don't get it!"

"All I'm saying…look, Johnson will do anything to prove that he is the best hunter in the country-"

"Not damn likely to happen," grumbled Austin.

"AND," continued Shane, ignoring the hunter's comment, "this Undertaker has laid out every bounty hunter that has come his way so far. I've known Dwayne almost as long as I've known you, and I know he'll be having thoughts of fame and fortune. And I don't want to see either of you getting killed, dammit!"

"So why not have this little chat with him? If he'll listen to anyone, he'll listen to you, Shane, not me."

"Yeah, right. He's just like you; he has never heeded me before, why would he start now? Look, all I'm asking is that for you to keep an eye on him, that's all. And if it looks like he's getting ready to go somewhere, you come and get me, alright?" Shane said wearily. He put his head in his hands, and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palms."

"Shane, you are too young for this job. Look at you, you look like you've aged ten years too fast."

"Well, if not me, then who's gonna do it? You? It's my duty to look after these people, this town, Steve."

"Duty my ass. Your father grew old before his time, and you're going the same way, son."

"Yeah, whatever. Go on, get out of here, and please try to stay out of trouble?"

"Hey Steve Austin does what he wants, when he wants, ok" said the hunter, standing up, and walking towards the door.

"Well, doesn't 'Steve Austin' want a quiet night in for once?" asked Shane, hopefully.

Austin laughed, and walked out into the street.

"Aw, shit." Said Shane to his paperwork. He looked at the 'wanted' report on his desk for the umpteenth time that day. "I don't know…there is something funny about all this –" He thought back to what Austin had said about the Undertaker. "Women and children – why? What the hell makes a man want to do that?"

Shane shook his head, wishing he could shake his worries away. He'd been up half the night trying to convince the towns' people that they didn't really want to hang Austin and Johnson for inciting a riot.

"Trouble just follows those guys around – and I always get stuck in the middle of it. Shit."

His eyes grew heavy as he attempted to read a memo from the county court. Suddenly he couldn't keep them open. "Just five minutes," he said, as he constructed a makeshift pillow out of various bits of paper on his desk. Ten minutes later he was snoring gently.

* * *

Shane awoke to find that night had fallen.

"Oh shit," He quickly straightened himself out, and stepped outside in to the night.

The town was small enough; the main street ran north to south, with stores and barns lining up along it. Mostly, there were saloons and casinos; it wasn't what you would call a family place.

The night's revelries were in full swing, with the establishments booming with music and laughter, not to mention the mostly good-natured insults exchanged between the clientele as they discussed the latest happenings. Wishing passers by a good evening, and, occasionally, a warning of good behaviour, or else, Shane made his way down to The Fortuna, the local hangout of most of the bounty hunters, and therefore, one of the most disreputable saloons in Deadwood.

Shane pushed open the double doors and was immediately confronted by a mix of loud hurdy gurdy music, and a combination of alcohol and cigar odours. He smiled to himself. This is what being a sheriff was about, he thought. He looked around at the various activities – the scantily clad dancers on the small stage, the poker game in the corner – as he made his way to the bar, where the owner of the saloon was polishing glasses while simultaneously ignoring the cries for beer from the other end. He looked up and smiled a toothy grin as he saw Shane.

"Sheriff McMahon – have a beer on me."

"Manny, the only reason you offer me a beer when I come in here is because you know I'm on duty and I'll turn it down, you tight fisted son of a bitch."

Manny stopped smiling, and wondered who could have pissed off their usually good-natured Sheriff.

"Anyone in here who shouldn't be, Manny?"

"Well, if you're talking about Johnson, he's over there." Said the barkeeper, gesturing to the roulette wheel. Sure enough, when Shane looked around, he spotted the bounty hunter stood against the table, looking somewhat more refined than he had that morning. Several pretty girls surrounded him, but he was, as usual, ignoring them. Shane grinned, despite himself, and his annoyance. He turned back to Manny.

"You let him back in? After the damage him and Austin did last night? Look at your billiard table, it's in two pieces, for Christ's sake!" Shane pointed at the table, which had indeed been destroyed, the balls still lying where they had fallen.

"Yeah, they really went at it, didn't they?" agreed Manny, grinning.

"So why not have him kicked out, you got enough guys in here to do it." Shane asked.

"Well…he apologised to me."

"Wait a minute…Dwayne…apologised? He actually said sorry? Are you sure?"

"Well, he said he was sorry that he put Austin through my table…" Manny said, sheepishly.

"He did?" Shane asked, his eyes growing wide.

"Yeah." Manny continued. "And then-"

"Then I said, I was sorry I didn't kill the son of a bitch."

Shane spun round to find Johnson stood next to him, grinning from ear to ear.

"Dwayne did I not tell you to stay away from here tonight?" Shane said, seething. Son of a bitch, he thought…

"Oh, stay away from The Fortuna. I thought you said stay in The Fortuna. Sorry." Replied Johnson with a grin.

"Yeah, nice try, asshole." Said the Sheriff.

"Now now, Shane, I'm not going to cause any trouble. And I'm even willing to pay for the damage."

Manny's face lit up.

"And where are you going to get the money from? I know you, remember, you spend every dime as soon as you get it." Said Shane, already fearing his answer.

"As it happens, I have caught word that there is a guy out there with a two thousand dollar price tag on his head. And I'm going to get him."

Shane shook his head at the floor. Shit, he thought for the umpteenth time that day. I knew this would happen…

"Dwayne, come over here for a minute," Shane gestured to a table near the wall of the saloon, away from most of the noise and activity.

"Dwayne, I've known you a long time. And I know you want to be the best at what you do." Said Shane, slowly.

"You're damn right – wait, no, I am the best, and you better damn well know it, McMahon." Dwayne said, an angry look on his face.

"Look, I just don't want to see you get killed, that's all. I've heard about this guy…and I have a really bad feeling about him."

"Shane, if you're worried about going after this guy, then there is nothing to worry about. That's why you have guys like me-to go after guys like him."

"And to cause a riot with guys like Austin?" Shane asked, smiling softly.

"Yeah, something like that…" the hunter replied with a grin of his own.

"Dwayne, I'm asking you, please. Let the law handle this one, ok? I need you…" Shane stopped, an idea forming in his mind.

"Need me to what?" Dwayne asked.

"I need you to stay here, and guard the town. The rest of these guys – they listen to you. I don't want a pack of trigger happy fools bounty hunters roaming the hills, looking for this guy." Shane smiled inwardly; this was going to work out better than he had hoped.

"And I also need you to keep an eye on Austin for me." Shane continued.

"What? Forget that shit, he can look after himself." Dwayne said.

"I know, I know." Said Shane, warming to his role. "But, I've known him even longer than I've known you, and I don't want to see him get killed either." He looked at Johnson, the glint in his eyes giving him away; Shane could tell that Johnson liked the idea of controlling the town while he was away.

"Well, it's a good job you keep breaking up our fights, cause one of these days, I am going to shoot that son of a bitch." Quick as a flash, showing his infamous lightning reflexes, Johnson snatched a tankard of beer from a passing waitress, and gulped half of it down in one swallow. Shane rolled his eyes.

"Very good, Johnson. Well done," Shane said, sarcastically.

"Thank you. Ok, let me get this straight…I stay here and hold the fort, and make sure Austin stays too…so what do I get out of it?" he asked, slyly.

"What do you mean? Is the satisfaction of looking after the whole damn town not reward enough?" asked Shane hopefully.

"Are you kidding me? This is going to be pain in the ass, and nothing more. Not to mention the fact that I am losing out on two thousand dollars."

"How about half the reward money when we catch the guy. It'll be more than enough to pay for the damages-"

"Shane- do you actually think that I'm going to just hand over my hard earned cash for a billiard table that I put Steve Austin through? No way. And after all the money I've spent in here? Not a chance in hell. And if Manny isn't happy about it, well…there are two things he can do about it." Said Johnson, grinning. "Nothing at all, and like it."

"Dwayne…" began the Sheriff.

"However," the hunter said, cutting him off, "I accept your offer. I stay and look after the town, and Austin, and I get one thousand dollars. Deal?"

"Deal," replied Shane with an inward sigh of relief. That should keep them both occupied long enough, he thought.

Johnson raised his glass to Shane, and had it halfway to his lips when it exploded to the sound of gunfire. Both the hunter and the Sheriff had their guns drawn before they even stood up. The saloon was dead silent; all activity had stopped.

A familiar laugh broke the thunderous silence. Shane turned towards the bar to see Austin, gun still smoking, grinning from ear to ear, chuckling loudly.

"Goddammit Steve! For Christ's sake!" screamed Shane in exasperation.

Still laughing Austin turned his back to them, waving Manny over to order a drink. Normal activity resumed.

Shane sat down heavily, heart still pounding as the adrenaline rush wore off slowly. He looked up at Johnson – but the hunter was already raging across the room, hurtling furniture and people aside in his hurry to get to Austin.

"Aw, not again…" said Shane, before rising and following the hunter through his path of destruction.

To Be Continued…

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