Ch6: Hi. I'm not really sure what to say at this point. I feel like you all must be tiered of hearing me (figuratively of course) apologize for not updating as quickly as I should (although I really am sorry about that), so how about I just assume that you understand that and we skip all that, sound good? Good.
Luna246 and Fusionista: You both have good reason to expect what you did, I assure you (you'll see what I mean).
Hopefully this chapter will not disappoint.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
So…what now, the third passenger thought dimly. The simple questions seeming to echo around in his mind before fading and leaving an unsettling emptiness behind. The fact that no answers came to mind was frightening. Normally he reveled in asking and then answering difficult questions, but this was different. He had no enthusiasm to put toward salving this dilemma, and it was a strange, foreign feeling that he quickly grew to despise. He felt awkward, his, normally, brilliant and logical mind now felt sluggish and unresponsive, as if it had run out of steam and refused to be brought back up to speed. That's not too unlikely, he thought with a small, half-hearted chuckle, considering what I just went through.
The morning had been a trying ordeal. He was both mentally and physically exhausted in a way he had rarely experienced. It was true his occupation often required that he put all of himself into whatever he was doing, whether it was confronting criminals and convicts of all types or working tirelessly on his own side projects. However, doing those activities usually gave him a satisfied felling of accomplishment, even if he ended up being dead tired afterward. This feeling was something else entirely. It was as if there was some invisible, lead weight on his back that was slowly pushing him into the dirt.
It had been placed there as he watched Johnny die. The experience had been surprisingly emotional for him, he had not expected to start weeping at the death of someone he did not know, and yet it happened. He wept openly and loudly. Once he was able to get control of himself he decided that it was only proper to give the man a proper burial, or at least as close to one as he could provide. Using a piece of scrap metal from the crashed shuttle he dug a grave roughly two and a half feet deep. Then he proceeded to drag Johnny's body over to it (which was more difficult then he had first thought it would be since Johnny turned out to weigh more than he had expected) and then pushed him into it. After that he had noticed it was getting dark out, so he collected some dead branches from around the clearing and some of the dry grass to try and start a fire. These materials now sat in a pile in front of him, as he had failed to get the fire going and had now given up. Instead he just sat against one of the two trees with his knees drawn up to his chest, alone in the twilight with only his thought to keep him company.
There was a soft breeze, and it made him shiver as it blew through the holes in his uniform. But he also shivered as the hopelessness of his situation continued to tighten the knot in his stomach. Desperately looking for something to turn his attention away from his abysmal situation he reached for the object beside him: Johnny's knife. He had silently debated whether or not to bury the object with Johnny out of respect, but he eventually decided it was more practical to keep it with him. Waste not want not, and besides, 'he won't need it where he is' as the old saying goes. For some reason he felt a little ashamed at himself after thinking that last part. He was a strange man, but he seemed to be genuinely friendly toward me despite the fact that I had been one of the guards transporting him to prison. On the other hand he was a convicted terrorist who killed dozens of people on that bridge. He sat and mulled over these two points for a little bit as he gazed listlessly at the knife in his hand. It was hard to link a man with such a pleasant demeanor with the title of 'convict' or 'murderer'. Soon enough he abandoned that thought process, in favor of something more imperative. There's nothing thinking about that will accomplish. His eyes regained focus and started to actually examine the tool before him. He immediately noticed the thickness of the blade and the overall weight of the object. Then he started seeing the more subtle details, like its pristine, mirror like surface that gave the appearance that it had never been used at all. He noted that the blade was made out of a metal he could not readily recognize, which surprised him. Looking down at the handle he saw it had a strange grip as well. The actual grip was well built, as it fit into his hand very comfortably, but the odd thing was that at the top and base of the grip were two hook-like additions. He was able to deduce that these must have acted like hand guards. At the very end of the handle there was a ring, about one inch in diameter, though it's purpose was escaped him. The final thin he saw was something he had actually almost missed. On the blade, toward the lower end there was an inscription that read: El Diablo. That's Spanish I think. I wonder what it means. Now that he was done inspecting the knife he set it back on the ground and searched for something else to occupy himself with.
And so it was at this point that the third passenger arrived again at the question that vexed him so. His spirits sank quickly like a stone thrown into a murky pool and soon all he could de was rest his head down on his knees and wrap his arms around them. He made the perfect picture of defeat.
Before he could really submit to his fatigue he noticed a flash through his arms and eyelids. Curious as to what could have caused such a bright flash he raised his head up quickly and looked around in the growing darkness. He searched for the source but found nothing had changed in the area immediately around him.
Then he heard a noise coming from somewhere close to him. He looked around again nervously but still could not pinpoint where it was coming from. All of the sudden he heard the sound get louder and he realized it was coming from Johnny's make-shift grave. As soon as he looked over to it he saw something shot up out of the fresh dirt and start wriggling around. The third passenger grabbed for the knife by his side and started to scoot backwards in an effort to put distance between himself and whatever was coming out of the ground. Almost as soon as the first thing burst forth another thing just like it followed and they both seemed to be clawing at the soil below them. There was very little light now so it was very hard to identify what exactly the two things were right away, but a realization quickly came onto the third passenger. Are those…h-h-hands? No, NO that's not possible, he thought frantically as something much larger finally burst forth; something moaning with two bright, glowing, red eyes. Slowly the thing turned it's gaze over to the third passenger, it's large frame silhouetted against the setting sun as the red eyes glowed in stark, terrifying contrast.
It opened it's mouth slowly, "AHHHhhhhhhhh Christ! You have any idea how much it sucks having to claw your way out of your own grave? No I don't suppose you do." he said in a familiar tone. He worked his legs out from under the dirt and stepped out of the pit he had been sealed just moments ago. "What's wrong friend? You look like you just saw a ghost of something." he said as he walked over to the third passenger and a wide grin spread across his face. "You know what? I don't think we were ever properly introduced." he said as he stood towering over the frazzled looking guy. He reached out his hand and said, "The names Johnny Yuma. And you are?"
At first he didn't move or say anything, it almost seemed like he wasn't even breathing. Then he slowly reached out a shaky hand and it was grasped Johnny's. Then, in an equally as shaky voice, said, "T-t-tech. Tech E. C-coyote."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
SURPRISE! AND ANOUTHER SURPRISE RIGHT AFTER IT! I bet nobody saw THAT one coming hehehe.
I think we can all agree that this was much better. But feel free to tell me what you actually think instead of just letting me put words into your mouths, yeah?