Chronicles of Espiria Season 3

Episode 12 – A Fistful of Walker

Written by CindyDaGreat

Walker recently heard of a Mauler spy heading toward Lightbearer lands, not something he expected to hear about during a cease fire between the Maulers and Lightbearers. Rather than bear more pointless ribbing from Gretel Hawke, he excused himself to chase down this new lead.

Walker traveled far on foot, keeping his hat tipped down to avoid the oncoming sandy winds. He kept his guard alert across the flat dunes; here in the Land of the Exiles, it didn't pay to let your guard down. Judging from the sun, it seemed to be nearly noon already. He could feel his feet indenting the sand, each step giving away his location. The winds weren't yet strong enough to erase his tracks. He took the time his quiet, lonely state allowed him to reflect. His mind wandered to an encounter three years ago.

"...He had a son!"

A female wolf figure lunged at him, dagger in her hand, though wildly missing thanks to Walker's quick reflexes.

"He murdered innocents." he replied.

Lame George, the Quicksand Claws' member whom he shot in that inn only a few months before, and whose lover had managed to track him down. Facing her, he only walked backwards evading her strikes.

"Murdered my partner."

"I'll murder you!" the wolf shouted as she lashed out again.

Walker again stepped back. Seeing her fruitless attempts, the wolfwoman dropped to her knees, cradling her head, as sobs overtook her frame. She was strong, Walker could tell. Had a warrior's stance and build. But her moves today were hasty, miscalculated.

The woman screamed into her hands, picking up her dagger once more, and managed to successfully slash a thin line across Walker's chest during his contemplations. At that moment, Walker struck her arm fiercely, disarming the wolf, and swept her feet with a whirl of his leg. He pulled out his revolver, pointing it first at her head, then lowering his aim and shooting her thigh instead.

He ran. Hard. He did not dare look back, and no matter how much he pressed his hands to his ears, the wolfwoman's howling did not cease.

The memory struck Walker coldly, as he replayed it behind hidden eyes. For a moment, he almost forgot his true purpose of arriving here, when a silhouetted figure rose from the sand twenty feet away, each step revealing more of his person. The figure hobbled while he walked, and his back had an apparent arch. Much of his face was obscured by a red and orange striped bandana, covering his long snout. One of his uncovered wolf ears had been half torn off.

"Savage Frank."

"Yea. I understand my name has some… importance." He let out a slight giggling, his arms twitching.

Walker stared down at him. "Maniac. You know why I'm here."

"You wanna know what little Safiya told me!" Frank nearly fainted from glee, almost cackling as he circled Walker. "I may…or may not…" he cocked his head. "...let it slip." Walker never turned his back towards the giggling wolfman, mirroring his circling as he drabbled on.

"I couldn't believe the queen would entrust lil' ol' me to do this job…"

"Me neither." Walker interrupted.

"...But I could believe that this little bounty hunter would find me doing it…you're smart, after all."

Walker was ready to fume, Savage Frank reminding him somewhat of a certain friend. He inched his hand closer to his holster. The wolfman eyed his movements.

"Hey, I've got business to attend to. You'll let this wolf run off free, won't you?"

Knowing his words were of no use here, Walker let his bullets rain.

With twists and turns, Savage Frank dodged each bullet with surprising agility. Under the thrill of danger, he was as fluid as the legendary waters overflowing in the Dura's Gift Oasis. He threw taunt after taunt at the bounty hunter.

"Lame George's drying corpse could shoot better than this!"

His bullets were running out, Walker realized. Walker reached over his back, about to pull out his shotgun.

"Y'know, his lover still prays in her tent daily for your final curtains! Hung up her dead honey's vulture-wilted coat as a reminder…"

That was the breaking point. Walker spun his gun around, took the butt of his shotgun, and bashed Savage Frank's gut. The force threw the wolf back, and the movement caused a small whistle to drop from his person. Frantically, he swiped the whistle back, blowing sharply into the boney material. When it seemed one blow wasn't enough, Savage Frank blew twice, three times, his urgency increasing with every blow. His eyes darted every which direction, unblinking, though one was always trained on Walker.

"The Quicksand Claws won't be coming for ya' once I'm finished with you."

Savage Frank suddenly rolled his eyes, incredulous as he guffawed at Walker. "Those freaks! I joined a new group ages ago! Earned me a very prestigious spot almost immediately!" He stopped blowing, clutching to his chest where the shotgun struck him, heaving deeply.

Walker readied his pistol with fresh bullets, pointing it at him. "I bet that new group was a seat right under the Queen's..."

"Oh, well I can't have you sullying her name now!"

Walker shoved his shotgun, barrel-first, deeper in his chest. Savage Frank raised his arms as if admitting defeat, before grappling onto Walker's back and scoring eight long, bleeding wounds. Howling in pain, the two men wrestled in the sand, sending flying fists and another bullet or two. Once Walker managed to have him in a chokehold, with effort, he assumed his pistol once more and blasted a hole near Frank's ribs. Sustaining lesser injuries, Walker struggled up, again letting Savage Frank stare down his pistol.

"What information did Safiya feed to you?!"

"Shoot it out of me, will you?!"

"If you say so."

BANG!

One through the thigh. That was all it took to unstick Frank's jaws.

"Alright, alright! I'll talk, just let me be!"

Walker crouched down, repeating his words slowly. "What information did..."

It was almost too late before he noticed a small explosive hidden under Savage Frank's serape. Walker jumped away from the explosion, the shockwave still knocking him on his backside. Savage Frank, however, was a different story. For the few seconds Walker was in the air, he could see a fiery cloud igniting the wolfman who set it off, and time seemed to slow as he watched skin and fur char, his chest taking most of the blackening.

He tumbled back to the sand. Swiping sand off his fresh wounds, Walker quickly hobbled over to the black, scorched remains of Savage Frank. Expecting dull eyes, Walker instead found himself staring down at a forced grin.

"Well…you ran after all. Smart hunter. Though begs the ever-hanging question: what are you gonna do with me now?" Frank shifted his shoulders, as if attempting a shrug in his state.

Expressionless, Walker answered, "The information you still hold in that marvelously intact brain."

"Fine, fine, I guess it would be fun to stir up the kitty's pot." The wolfman grinned, then smiled, and let a final cackling ring out the air. Walker leaned in, and Frank began telling Walker about Safiya's job for him. Walker was incredulous at first, but he figured if anyone could make sense of it, it would be Gretel Hawke. Frank's words began thinning, and he glanced nonchalantly up at Walker.

"Aren't-cha gonna shoot me one last time?"

In response, Walker raised his head to the circling vultures ever-present in the Mauler desert. They seemed to follow any and all lifeforms at a given time. He turned, adjusted his hat, and walked away.

"You're already dead."

A long time passed. The charred, blackened form of Savage Frank lay silent in the sand, until two Arachin approached.

"Please! Kill me!"

The spider-folk looked puzzlingly at the body.

"The Savage…" One spoke.

"Why so hurryingly alert us?" The other added. They peered closer, remnants of a bomb scattered near and far from the corpse, its hook still attached to his thumb.

"Hmm. An experiment gone astray."

"The Queen has better business to attend to."

"She'll simply assign a new willing body."

"Come, we have wasted enough time as it is."

"Wait. Before we depart…" The second Arachin bent down to Savage Frank's hearing range. "For what reason did you call?"

"Information…Walker…" With his last breath, Savage Frank's eyes finally dulled.

The Arachin straightened back up, allowing her partner to rummage through the body.

"Walker... a Lightbearer bounty hunter..."

At last they found a singular whistle, undamaged and clean. The first Arachin crushed it in her armored hands, carefully containing the shards in a sack.

"Burn him. The Lightbearer will come back for him."

"Understood." They glanced at the descending vultures, and left Frank's body in the sand.