*Author's Note*

Thank you for the favs, follows, and reviews.

This first scene isn't a POV one, but an article. Obviously, it's not a real article, just something I made up for the chapter and the plot of the story. It's a different format then what I've been using, but it works for this story.

Hope you guys enjoy this chapter.

New York Globe

New York Globe- Monday, March 5th, 1883

Neighbors Killing Neighbors- Appalachian Murders Go Unjustified

By: T.C. Crawford

It has come to my attention, by a friend of mine I met a few years ago at a political dinner I was covering in Washington D.C., that murders are happening freely in the Tug Fork River Valley area of Appalachia, right in Kentucky and West Virginia. Murders that are unjust; in which the offenders are not being accounted for.

Apparently, the law has no ground to stand on when it comes to the gateway of the West. Not when the Hatfield clan are killing any and all lawmen and bounty hunters that enter the state of West Virginia to apprehend the thirty-something men that murdered three boys, two McCoys and one Belcher, in an illegal and gruesome execution a few days after last year's election day. An execution in which the boys, brothers Pharmer and Bud McCoy along with their neighbor Bobby Belcher, were tied to pawpaws and shot at point blank range by thirty-something men.

The aftermath of the shooting was so graphic that their father, Randall McCoy, had to drink an entire bottle of whiskey in order to tell me the details of the atrocities committed against his family when I interviewed him for this piece. A piece that my good friend, a lawyer nestled in the hills of Prestonsburg, told me needed to be done. A piece that I decided to make the long trip to Pikeville in Pike County, Kentucky to get investigative information on.

First of all, my trip was long and tiring. The train only took me as far as Charleston, West Virginia since there's now train depot in the Tug Fork River Valley. So, after arriving at the train depot in West Virginia's capitol I was forced to acquire a horse from a stable and had to ride down twisting and turning mountainous roads until I reached my destination of Pike County, Kentucky. I must admit that as I rode through Logan County, West Virginia I did witness some menacing men with guns tucked in their saddles and gun belts strapped around their waists riding up and down the roads, patrolling and waiting for outsiders to come so that they could kill them. One of the men, a golden-brunette with menacing honey eyes, came up to me and asked if I was lost or the dumbest bounty hunter he'd ever seen since I looked out of place. I assured him that I was riding down the road in peace; on my way to Kentucky to write a paper story. My photographer, who the paper sent with me, nearly wet his pants at the mere thought that we might be killed by the murderous Hatfields before we even made it into Kentucky. The man just nodded at us and let us pass by, but not without the warning of, "Be careful of what you write. Wouldn't want the feud to get out of hand due to a story."

My photographer's eyes went wide, while I just nodded and simply told the barbaric looking mountain man, "I only report the facts that I find, Sir. What reader do with those is of their own opinions.", before riding off. Later, after arriving at my lawyer friend's quaint country cottage, I learned that the man I had a run in with was none other than Mister Shaw Hector Eldridge, one of the men wanted for the murderous of the McCoy and Belcher boys, along with being the man wanted for the cold blooded and jealous enraged murder of another McCoy boy, Tolbert John. Of course, that shook up both myself and my photographer. The mere instance that I had come face to face with a ruthless killer, one of the worst in the Hatfield clan, had me counting my blessings that I had come out of that interaction alive.

After taking a day to settle into my friend's guestroom, I went down to Pikeville to pay Mr. McCoy a visit in order to interview him for this very piece. My friend told me that Mr. McCoy spent his days in the law office of Perry Cline, his family lawyer and cousin. The ride to town, which was nestled in the foothills of the rolling green hills, took a little over an hour on the main road, but was peaceful.

But the details I learned from Mr. McCoy during my interview was anything, but peaceful.

The interview was done in Lawyer Cline's law office, which was right smack dab in the middle of downtown Pikeville, which was such a small town that our own Five Points here in New York's larger and more populated. Lawyer Cline and his brother-in-law, who's also his law clerk, Mr. Landon sat at their desks, going over paperwork and inquiries on the warrants they have filed against the Hatfield clan, while Mr. McCoy sat on the leather sofa adjacent to Lawyer Cline's desk. The grief-stricken father was so out of sorts by the questions that I asked that he had to drink a bottle of his late son's homebrewed moonshine.

Of course, I started out by introducing myself along with introducing my photographer, which resulted in Mr. McCoy simply telling us in a flat and lackluster tone, "You're here to ask 'bout my sons."

While my photographer, a German immigrant that speaks broken English, set up his camera I took a seat next to Mr. McCoy on the sofa. Taking out my notebook and pencil, I simply nodded and confirmed that I was there to interview him. "The readers will really enjoy a story about a Godly man seeking justice for his sons; for his neighbor's son too." I told him, flipping open my notebook to a blank page. Looking up at the broken man, I began the interview by asking him, "I was told by my friend, Lawyer Brooksdale, that your sons and their friend were illegially kidnapped after a bad election day fight only to be brutally executed some days later. I must ask, Mr. McCoy, how come the sherriff let this occur."

"Sherriff Maynard acused my sons of murder cause the man they hurt in their fight was Devil Anse Hatfield's brother, Ellison, and he was too scared of crossing paths with the devil then enacting justice for my sons and their friend. If the sherriff weren't so scared, my sons and the other boy'd still be 'live right now."

"So, the sherriff was corrupted by Devil Anse, the leader of the murderous Hatfield clan?" I asked, wanting confirmation on what I was previously told.

"Yes." Mr. McCoy nodded. Taking a large sip from his moonshine bottle, he bitterly spat, "Devil Anse has everyone in his pocket that's corrupted by greed, sin, fear, and evil." Shaking his head, he ground out thru gritted teeth, "He made his money off of the backs of the suffering during the war. Captain Anderson Hatfield deserted our Confederate company in order to return to Mate Creek to level the land and clear all the trees for profit while good men, such as myself, suffered for staying the true course of our cause."

"So, this Devil Anse has no honor?"

"None." Randall firmly grounded out in a strong tone that reminded me of a bowl and pestal being used to crack peppercorns. He took another swig from his bottle and sadly sighed, "A man of honor would return the boys to Kentucky for a trial, not say that he'll kill them once his brother succumbs to his fight wounds."

My blood ran cold at Mr. McCoys words. They confirmed how ruthless, how heartless, Devil Anse Hatfield and his clan were.

"You found the boys tied up to pawpaws, or at least that's what my friend Lawyer Brooksdale told me." I told Mr. McCoy, wanting him to confirm that detail of the murders.

"Yes." He nodded sadly before taking another drink and providing me the gruesome details of, "Bobby Belcher was loosely dangling from the tree he was tied to while Pharmer was slumped over nearly breaking his bonds; Bud looked so scared in death as he was listlessly against the tree he was tied too. All the boys had countless bult holes in their bodies along with multiple kill shots too their heads, but my son Pharmer was the one that got the worse of it. His eye was shot out and the back of his skull blown off."

"And the thirty-something men you got the bounties and warrants out on did these horrid things?" I asked, needing confirmation that all the wanted men truly did commit these unspeakable crimes.

"Yes; on Devil Anse's orders." Mr. McCoy confirmed with a hard nod. His face quivered as he let out a heartbroken declaration of, "But I know that Vance Bastard, Shaw Eldridge, done gone mutilated my boy Pharmer cause he was Tolbert's favorite brother."

"He's the one that killed your son, Tolbert." I stated as Mr. McCoy took a large swig of moonshine to calm himself with.

"Yes. He killed my son." Mr. McCoy confirmed with utter sadness in his eyes. His head slumped as he sputtered out, "It ain't right that my sons are dead; rotting in their graves while their killers roam free." Shaking his head incredulously, he asked in a grief-stricken wail, "Where's the justice for my sons; for their friend? Why won't anyone help me get justice for my boys?"

As I wrote down the man's heartbreaking cries, I heard the sound of the nearby camera's flash going on; capturing the image of the grief-stricken father and myself on the leather sofa during the end of our interview.

This interview was one of the most tragic ones I've ever done. Talking to a father, who's trying to get justice, but can't seem to obtain it because the local legal system seems to be turning a blind eye to the dire situation. Only if the Kentucky state governor, Governor Buckner, would get involved and make the crimes the Hatfield clan commits eligible for extradition and capture by a special US. Marshall Deputy.

Brock POV:

I was in town picking up some supplies whenever a paperboy, who was selling big city papers, held up his paper and chanted, "Extra, extra! Read all 'bout it! New York Globe has frontpage story 'bout the McCoy boys' murders!"

People flocked to the paperboy, eagerly payin' him 5 cents in order to read the breaking news story about the McCoys in a nationally renowned paper. Hmm, reckon the local 2 cent paper ain't making any business today.

I somehow managed to get thru the crowd of people in the streets and to the general store unscathed. It was quite a task tho since the crowd was thick and dense, much like the nasty fruitcake I was forced to endure as a child. The store was empty, other than the clerk Squirrel, so I was able to shop rather quickly. When I went to the counter in the back to check out, I found Squirrel bent over the counter struggling to read the front-page article in the New York Globe. Of course, he was reading it. I'm sure the entire fucking country is, all due to me tipping my friend off about the story too.

Perry POV:

I felt on top of the world as I relaxed in my chair, reading the latest copy of the New York Globe. Much to my happiness, this journalist friend of Brock came thru. The expose article written by T.C. Crawford truly showcased the injustice that the McCoys were going thru. I must say, the man had a way with the written word. A way that's sure to have people from all over petitionin' Governor Buckner to help us in our quest for justice and revenge.

Brenton POV:

My brother-in-law sat smugly in his office behind me, readin' the New York paper with glee. The article was damnin' for the Hatfields. So much so that if Sully doesn't take my advice and convince Anse to contact The Examiner then they'll be doomed.

Sully POV:

"Anse, this article will crucify us if we don't checkmate it with one of our own." I told my cousin, holding the damned New York Globe up in the air dramatically, as I stood in front of him, next to a pile of boards he was stackin'.

"I don't want anyone in my house or safehouses, newspaper man included." Anse stubbornly told me in a loud snap. One that would make most men quake in their boots.

"I know that, but the only way for people to see we're the true victims in these hills is to have our side nationally published."

"Hmm…" Anse rubbed his chin. Pullin' his pipe from the corner of his mouth, he tensely asked, "And who'd ya have in mind to cover our story? Ya know the Globe's outta the question."

"Their rival, The Examiner from San Francisco. I've also heard they've got an up and coming investigative reported too by the name of Asa M. Merriweather."

"Merriweather at The Examiner." Devil Anse mulled while everyone else in the mill hastily worked at cutting and stackin' boards. My own son included.

Yea, turns out Jim didn't keep Shaw locked up for long since my son seemed to sober up quicker this time. Unlike last time, he didn't cry and beg for booze. Shaw seemed to need a few days to sober up, not weeks like last time.

"Yes; I think he'd be worth covering our family for a counter expose. You'd be able to clarify that Ellison was murdered, not just injured in a bad fight. You'd also be able to mention what their bounty hunter, Bad Frank, did to Skunk Hair too."

"Fine, I'll send word to that paper." Anse relented with a nod before sticking his pipe back into his mouth and walking off.

AN:

I know, this was a short filler chapter. It sets up things for the next chapter tho.