(AN: Hello Fellow readers. SirRedFox here posting a new installment of "The Good, The Bad, and The Wilde." First off, if you're reading this, YOU'RE AWESOME! And, thank you.
I try to answer questions at the end of every story. A few people have an interesting questions about the story, and I try to answer all of them as much as I can. I try to answer them at the very end of this installment. I also try to give new story followers a treat into the next installment
In the Previous Installment: Nick Wilde have double crossed Duke Weaselton and his gang of crooked rangers. Luckly thanks to Finnick and some quick thining, Nick and Finnick escape with the $500,000 in gold. Deciding to split up, Nick leads Weaselton's gang away and make a clean escape.
So enjoy this new chapter of "The Good, The Bad, and The Wilde." And please, fill free to leave a review or comment. Thank you.
- Sir_RedFox)
.
The Lone Rider:
"I've been through the desert on a horse with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert you can remember your name
Cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain"
- America, 1971
.
Nick rode on the back of Argo as hard and fast. Gathering as much distance between him and Weaselton and his posse. He rode through the canyon deserts, over lavish fields of green, and into the woods.
He saw up ahead a clearing in the woods. The trees spread out, but still providing lots of shade. Wild flowers grew everywhere and a clearing through the woods to an open field. It's a place to rest, to reset himself.
He pulled on Argo's reigns, bringing the wild mustang to a halt. They both heave heavy, trying to catch their breath. Nick's throat being parched, rough like sandpaper. He reached down grabbing his canteen. Crystal clear water is what he wanted, what he needed. Unscrewing the cap he tilted the canteen all the way back, eyes closed and his tongue sticking out ready to except the large healing of water.
Only a few drops touched his tongue and lips. He opened his eyes and looked at the canteen with disappointment. That can't be right, he remembers filling it up after the robbery. Inspecting his canteen, he found the problem. At the bottom of his canteen, a bullet size puncture into the tin metal.
"Well, that's not good." Nick said. He let the canteen fall to his side where his fox hand became wet form something. Probably the spill from his canteen. Lifting up his hand, Nick looked at his hand, now, wet and red with blood. He looked down and pulled back the left side flap on his jacket and vest. There he saw a red splotch of blood. The bullet that had come up and gave him a good bite from the backside. The red splotch slowly growing bigger. "Well, that's defiantly not good."
Nick ached and moaned as he put pressure on the wound and tried to swing his right foot off Argo's saddle to climb down. He stumbled back a little but stood strong on his two feet. He fumbled through his saddle bag to find something to stop the bleeding.
The loud rustling of leaves and snapping of twigs from the thicket of the woods grew louder and approaching him. Weaselton, had to be. Nick reached back for his nickel plated six-iron. Both pistols on his sides were empty and all he left was this little Short Stroke SASS pea shooter compared to his other two.
Nick stumbles and falls backward. He scotches all the way back till his back is against a tree. He cocked the hammer back on the gun. His hand couldn't stop shaking as he tried ignoring the pain from his wound. His finger on the trigger, ready for whatever was coming his way.
Bursting through the forest thicket, a spotted mustang with a dead rider on top. Nick relaxed his finger off the trigger. He recognized this rider and his horse. It was Walker, and his horse Spot. Nick recalls the horse riding off after Weaselton shot Walker dead.
Nick help himself up off the ground. With every movement, he moaned in pain from the bullet hole in his gut. He holstered his Short Stroke back in its holster behind his back. Trudging over to Spot, one hand raise to show the horse no harm while the other applied pressure to his wound. The horse was skittish at first but soon enough, Spot became calm enough for Nick to approach.
Nick wrapped his hands around Walker and slid his body off of Spot. They tumble to the ground. Walker's chest soaked in blood. Dragging him to a tree, Nick propped him up. His eyes, still open but showed no sign of life in them. He put his hand over Walker's eyelids and closed them shut.
Nick got up and ransacked through Walker's saddle, trying to find anything of use. The saddle bags barely had anything in them, at least anything to help him. The saddle bags contained clothes and a blanket. Nothing of use, except tearing up the blanket to dress his wound. There was Walker's canteen. Giving it a good like shake, Nick listens to the splish and splash of some water. Very little in the canteen, but he would take it. Opening the canteen, he lets what little water it had run down his dry cotton mouth throat.
He takes a minute to collect his thoughts. Everything jumbled together with being shot, being on the run, and carrying three bags of loot. He took in deep breaths to settle himself.
Unbuckling the saddle on Spot, Nick pushed it off of the mustang and placed it near Walker. Walker was dead, nothing to do about that, but he would know that Walker wouldn't want any other mammal to ride Spot.
"Go on, get" Nick said, waving the back of his hand to shoo the horse away. "Go on, get out of here." He gave a hard slap to the rear of the mustang. This finally got him moving and trotted out of the woods and into the sunny fields. Nick looked out into the field as Spot slowly disappeared in the distance.
Still keeping pressure on his wound, Nick took in a deep breath and mounted Argo. The tiniest movement sent waves of pain from his bullet wound. Best to keep moving, who knows how far Weaselton and his crooked posse of rangers gaining behind him. He took one last look over at Walker. He looked as though he was taking a nap in the shade.
I'll come back for you friend. Nick thought looking down at the dead mountain lion. I'll come back for you, and do whats right by you. He gave a swift kick to side rear and rode off.
Just a little more distance is what he needed. He did not stop until there was an hour left of sunlight. He wanted, no, needed a fire to help him survive the night. He unmounted Argo and was able to make a little fire going. Nick knew what he had to do, and was dreading every though of it. Nick took his Damascus knife and slid the blade under the hot coals of the fire. It would take a minute or two to conduct the right heat that he needed it to be at.
Taking a look at the loot he unstrapped the three bags. Looking inside Nick only grabbed the sacks that contained the billfolds of all the passengers they robbed. This meant that Finnick had the full five hundred thousand, and he was left with literal pocket change. He went through the sacks, taking out the money from the billfolds, stacking the money to the side and tossing the billfolds into the fire. The discarded billfolds fueled the fire making it larger and hotter.
Finished sorting through the billfolds, Nick came up with about twelve hundred dollars. The fire was a pit of empty billfolds. He stacked the bills together and bonded them with twine. Shoving the money in the smallest pouch.
Nick turned to his Damascus knife which was still simmering under the coals of the fire. It should be about ready. Searching the area he found a nice sturdy stick. He wrapped it in some cloth and bite down hard with his muzzle. He lifted up his shirt to have a better look at his wound.
Undoing the wet bandages the bullet wound was still bleeding. With a bottle of unmarked whiskey, he opened its' cap and poured the alcohol onto his wound to disinfect. The alcohol burned making him wince. He reached into the fire and pulled out his Damascus knife. It was white-hot and sizzling.
On three, he told himself. Trying to prepare himself for the incredible painful burn that was to come. One... two... three! On three Nick pressed the hot knife against his bullet wound and gave a muffled yell through the stick and cloth in his mouth. He held the hot knife to his gut as long as he could till he dropped it due to pain. He spat out the stick wrapped in cloth. Argo watched as Nick staggered back and forth, trying to walk off the pain. He finally dropped to his knees. He threw up what little was in his stomach before passing out on the ground. He laid still and listened to the crackle of the fire and cicadas. He did not want to move. He wanted to stay right where he was and let the world fade to dark around him.
That night he dreamed a horrible dream. He dreamed that him and his whole gang still alive and tied to a conveyer belt that moved from side to side, back and forth. They were each tied to a pole; Walker, Flitch, Hugh, Bart, Weaver, and even him and Finnick. They were tied to one of those traveling arcadian games. One that testes how many ducks or targets one shoots in a row; only they are the targets in his game. Looking out, Nick looks at that sharp shooter ram Doug, Billy Stone the hyena, Lugh the timber wolf, and lastly Weaselton standing in the center. They all took aim and fired their weapons.
Nick had to watch again as his whole crew were slaughtered. They all gathered behind Weaselton with big smiles on their faces as he took aim at Nick. Weaselton fired. Nick hears the bullets from Weaselton's Remington whiz by him. Weaselton could shoot him at any time, but instead was making a spectacle of Nick's torment. Weaselton finally took aim and fired, blasting a hole in Nick's gut.
Nick woke up to the feeling of a cool breeze hitting his face. The fire he had made was merrily still alive. He tossed a few more sticks into the fire and poked at the embers to start the fire up again. it would be dawn soon, within an hour or two. Despite the cool morning air, Nick feels hot beads of sweat dampen the fur on his face. No food, no water, and a hole in his gut. Things felt like they could not be dimmer.
By morning's light, Nick gathered himself. He picked himself up off the ground and started packing up. There was only two things, his Damascus knife which he had tossed on the ground after cauterizing his wound, and the small pouch containing only a fraction of what they had stole from the 3:10 to Zootopia.
Taking in a deep breath, Nick jumped up and slung his leg over Argo's saddle. He winced in pain from his wound. The morning heat was already upon him. He needed to stay focused and alert, and try not to fall off Argo's saddle, holding tightly to the saddle's horn.
They rode for miles. Nick had no idea where they were or how far Zootopia was from him. Keep moving, he told himself. Have to keep moving, it's the safest thing right now. They rode and rode until they rode to a smooth rocky cliff side.
At the bottom, the rocks sloped down under the cliff. It appeared to be an old rattlesnake den. This gave him an idea. He dismounted from the saddle and searched among the many rattlesnake holes till finding a good one for his idea. He took the pouch full of money and stuffed it into the rattlesnake hole, along with one extra item. He covered the hole with lose stones. Limping out, he took a look over at Argo. Argo makes a loud horse whine.
"What?!" Nick questioned the horse. "It will be safe there. At least for now. Besides, now if I get caught they won't kill me right away. They'll want to know where I hide the rest of the money."
Nick dropped his black duster on the back of the saddle. He mounted up on Argo, grunting from his bullet wound. He placed his gambler's hat on the saddle horn. He gave Argo a slight kick and they were off. Nick laid down across Argo's back. That's all he wanted to do, was rest. But he couldn't do so, he had to stay awake and attentive. He didn't want to pass out and fall off Argo. He tied a leather strap around him to keep himself on the saddle. He had to stay awake. Stay awake.
.
(AN: Thank you for reading, and Thank you for reading this. Again, YOU'RE AWESOME! I hope you enjoyed this new installment. Leaving you to wonder if everything is going to be alright with Nick. In the next chapter we will get to see what Judy and her family has been up to.
As I said before, please leave a commit on how you'd rather have future chapters come out. Thank you!
- Sir_RedFox)