sounds good. plus obviously we've also got the big finale to come.
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sounds good. plus obviously we've also got the big finale to come.
A brilliant AAR that I have only recently sat down and read. For that I nominate thee as character writer of the week!
Indeed. I must say that I will be a sad when posting the final update.
, but that's still a few more updates away.Well, I'm glad you've enjoyed it thus far and thank you for the honor! Plus it's always nice to see a readAAR around here.
Chapter Nine
Jeb and Tom were now fleeing up the ridgeline towards Leslie whom popped up from his hidden position behind a log to strike the rider only yards in front of him with a log that knocked the man down to the ground and, for the moment, unconscious. Inside the motel, Evan Harris and his entourage of soldiers were rushing outside too their horses to give pursuit.
Running up the hill, exhaustingly, faster than they probably have ever ran before in their entire life; they peered back to see several men on horseback riding out to catch them. Jeb saw Leslie who was standing over the body of the unconscious rider he had struck in the back of the head with the small log and shouted, “Run Leslie run!” The three, with Leslie of course out in front of them, were dashing back home which was still a far distance away; even at the pace they were running at.
Evan Harris and his troupe rode out from the town with their guns drawn, several of them with torches, and were quickly off to catch up with the few of their other men that were already in the chase. “Now look,” Evan began as they left the edge of the town to give chase, “I want them alive; no shooting unless you hit them in the leg or another place that wouldn’t kill ‘em, understood?” With that, around 15 men were off to capture Tom, if not Jeb and possibly Leslie.
Tom passed over the unconscious body of the rider; he noticed his pistol was on the ground and turned back a few feet to retrieve the hand gun that could prove to be a life saving device at the moment. “C’mon Tom!” Jeb yelled back as he was now in front of him, “keep running!”
“Just go ahead Jeb, I’ll catch up,” he yelled as he leapt over a log that nearly tripped him. Behind him, several of Evan Harris’s men drew their pistols and shot several shots in the air to alert Evan and the others where they were so they didn’t have to spread their numbers in hopes of finding them. The shots startled both Jeb and Leslie; Leslie launched himself on the ground soon after the shoots were fired.
Jeb ran up to him, a bit started from the firing and helped Leslie back to his feet, “C’mon let’s go, we have to keep moving!”
Tom turned back and fired a blind shot at their pursuers, not striking any of the lead riders but alarming them that at least one of the [boys] they were chasing was armed and willing to use it if necessary. One of the riders sat back, while four others rode off to catch up to the fleeing Tom, Jeb, and Leslie, and alerted Evan of the situation when he and his troupe arrived and continued forward.
Jeb and Leslie ran into the long, mucky grass fields that plagued the area outside of Wilson’s Creek, knowing quite well it would slow them down, but they hoped that it would; in turn, slow the riders down plus they knew it was completely possible to hide in these fields. Tom was quick to follow them into fields, soon after followed by Evan and his men.
Tom turned back and took a leveled shot at the closest rider, dropping him off his horse in agony; albeit he didn’t kill him in the strike as he was struck in the arm. The others, all but two, were quick to pass their wounded comrade while those who didn’t continue tended to him.
Jeb and Leslie disappeared from the sight of Tom, who was quickly disappearing from the sight of Evan Harris and his men. “Alright, that’s it,” Evan said as he took out his pistol and took close aim at Tom’s left leg, pulling the trigger before Tom disappeared into the deep brush.
Tom looked down at his leg; he was clipped by Evan’s shot which caused him incredible pain as he continued to run with a slight limp out of the large brush where he could recognize Jeb and Leslie out in front of him by at least 100 or so feet. Quickly, out of the brush behind him appeared another rider who took aim at him. Tom was quick to fire another shot at him, miraculously striking the man’s gun and sending small bit of the shatter bullet and pistol into the man’s face; blinding him for a short period of time, falling from his horse.
Tom was rushing to catch up to Jeb and Leslie when Evan Harris appeared out of the brush, realizing Tom was injured he tried to give an order to withdraw their firearms as they could easily catch him now. Tank Savage however, rode of the grass with his pistol drawn and shot Tom in the opposite leg with a solid strike, dropping Tom to the ground clutching his wound with shrieks and cries.
“God dammit,” Evan said as he quickly rushed over to Tom to see if he was okay, despite the fact he didn’t care whether he lived or died, but this was the closest he had ever come to finally riding the town and ambitions from Mr. Smith. Jeb and Leslie turned back to look at Tom on the ground in pain, quickly surrounded by several men. The two, although hesitating for a short while continued to run back to the Leslie home to inform their parents of what was going on.
Around Tom, several men kicked his pistol away from his side. Evan appeared with a devilish smile, “We’ve been waiting for you Thomas Smith.”
Around 45 minutes later Jeb and Leslie ran into the yard of the Leslie Farm house where their parents where already outside looking for them, as well as the firing that was going on outside. “Where the hell were you!?” exclaimed both Mr. Smith and Mr. Carlisle to their sons as they appeared in the fields, out of breath and having a heavy toll of emotion at that moment.
They were unable to speak for the first 15 minutes they had arrived back home due to the trauma they were going through at the moment. Finally Jeb spoke up with heavy breathing between his words, “They, they; you have to believe me. Tom, Tom. Tom was in the town and Evan Harris has captured him. They probably killed him,” he finished panting.
“Is that so?” asked Mr. Smith with both belief and disbelief.
“Yessum,” Leslie managed to spit out of his mouth.
“Damn,” Mr. Smith said, “Get inside, I’ll discuss more with you later. Try to get some rest; it’s still some time before sunrise. Come morning, there isn’t any going back,” Mr. Smith finished, looking outside towards Wilson’s Creek before heading back inside.
Jeb and Tom were now fleeing up the ridgeline towards Leslie whom popped up from his hidden position behind a log to strike the rider only yards in front of him with a log that knocked the man down to the ground and, for the moment, unconscious. Inside the motel, Evan Harris and his entourage of soldiers were rushing outside too their horses to give pursuit.
Running up the hill, exhaustingly, faster than they probably have ever ran before in their entire life; they peered back to see several men on horseback riding out to catch them. Jeb saw Leslie who was standing over the body of the unconscious rider he had struck in the back of the head with the small log and shouted, “Run Leslie run!” The three, with Leslie of course out in front of them, were dashing back home which was still a far distance away; even at the pace they were running at.
Evan Harris and his troupe rode out from the town with their guns drawn, several of them with torches, and were quickly off to catch up with the few of their other men that were already in the chase. “Now look,” Evan began as they left the edge of the town to give chase, “I want them alive; no shooting unless you hit them in the leg or another place that wouldn’t kill ‘em, understood?” With that, around 15 men were off to capture Tom, if not Jeb and possibly Leslie.
Tom passed over the unconscious body of the rider; he noticed his pistol was on the ground and turned back a few feet to retrieve the hand gun that could prove to be a life saving device at the moment. “C’mon Tom!” Jeb yelled back as he was now in front of him, “keep running!”
“Just go ahead Jeb, I’ll catch up,” he yelled as he leapt over a log that nearly tripped him. Behind him, several of Evan Harris’s men drew their pistols and shot several shots in the air to alert Evan and the others where they were so they didn’t have to spread their numbers in hopes of finding them. The shots startled both Jeb and Leslie; Leslie launched himself on the ground soon after the shoots were fired.
Jeb ran up to him, a bit started from the firing and helped Leslie back to his feet, “C’mon let’s go, we have to keep moving!”
Tom turned back and fired a blind shot at their pursuers, not striking any of the lead riders but alarming them that at least one of the [boys] they were chasing was armed and willing to use it if necessary. One of the riders sat back, while four others rode off to catch up to the fleeing Tom, Jeb, and Leslie, and alerted Evan of the situation when he and his troupe arrived and continued forward.
Jeb and Leslie ran into the long, mucky grass fields that plagued the area outside of Wilson’s Creek, knowing quite well it would slow them down, but they hoped that it would; in turn, slow the riders down plus they knew it was completely possible to hide in these fields. Tom was quick to follow them into fields, soon after followed by Evan and his men.
Tom turned back and took a leveled shot at the closest rider, dropping him off his horse in agony; albeit he didn’t kill him in the strike as he was struck in the arm. The others, all but two, were quick to pass their wounded comrade while those who didn’t continue tended to him.
Jeb and Leslie disappeared from the sight of Tom, who was quickly disappearing from the sight of Evan Harris and his men. “Alright, that’s it,” Evan said as he took out his pistol and took close aim at Tom’s left leg, pulling the trigger before Tom disappeared into the deep brush.
Tom looked down at his leg; he was clipped by Evan’s shot which caused him incredible pain as he continued to run with a slight limp out of the large brush where he could recognize Jeb and Leslie out in front of him by at least 100 or so feet. Quickly, out of the brush behind him appeared another rider who took aim at him. Tom was quick to fire another shot at him, miraculously striking the man’s gun and sending small bit of the shatter bullet and pistol into the man’s face; blinding him for a short period of time, falling from his horse.
Tom was rushing to catch up to Jeb and Leslie when Evan Harris appeared out of the brush, realizing Tom was injured he tried to give an order to withdraw their firearms as they could easily catch him now. Tank Savage however, rode of the grass with his pistol drawn and shot Tom in the opposite leg with a solid strike, dropping Tom to the ground clutching his wound with shrieks and cries.
“God dammit,” Evan said as he quickly rushed over to Tom to see if he was okay, despite the fact he didn’t care whether he lived or died, but this was the closest he had ever come to finally riding the town and ambitions from Mr. Smith. Jeb and Leslie turned back to look at Tom on the ground in pain, quickly surrounded by several men. The two, although hesitating for a short while continued to run back to the Leslie home to inform their parents of what was going on.
Around Tom, several men kicked his pistol away from his side. Evan appeared with a devilish smile, “We’ve been waiting for you Thomas Smith.”
Around 45 minutes later Jeb and Leslie ran into the yard of the Leslie Farm house where their parents where already outside looking for them, as well as the firing that was going on outside. “Where the hell were you!?” exclaimed both Mr. Smith and Mr. Carlisle to their sons as they appeared in the fields, out of breath and having a heavy toll of emotion at that moment.
They were unable to speak for the first 15 minutes they had arrived back home due to the trauma they were going through at the moment. Finally Jeb spoke up with heavy breathing between his words, “They, they; you have to believe me. Tom, Tom. Tom was in the town and Evan Harris has captured him. They probably killed him,” he finished panting.
“Is that so?” asked Mr. Smith with both belief and disbelief.
“Yessum,” Leslie managed to spit out of his mouth.
“Damn,” Mr. Smith said, “Get inside, I’ll discuss more with you later. Try to get some rest; it’s still some time before sunrise. Come morning, there isn’t any going back,” Mr. Smith finished, looking outside towards Wilson’s Creek before heading back inside.
It would seem that Mr. Smith intends to take the fight to Harris in the morning. It won't be easy with Harris having numbers and Tom as a hostage, but I'm confident that the good guys will win.
If Tom wants to live a long and happy life he should probably start trying to avoid trouble.
If Tom wants to live a long and happy life he should probably start trying to avoid trouble.
So the final showdown is upcoming I imagine! Surely Mr. Smith is going to have a few problems when dealing with Evan Harris.
*Wants more!*
*Wants more!*
Well, hello volksmarschall! Again I have been away few months and I see I have a lot of catching up. I'll try to find some time to read it through and enjoy your excellent story!
@ Enewald: But one can easily put a bullet in Tom now!
@ Hardraade: Indeed, come morning there will not be any turning back. The final showdown is upcoming, in a sense of Good vs Evil perhaps, or Good vs Good gone extreme (in the case of Evan Harris, for some may say he has good intentions since his area is Pro-Confederate, but at what cost should he push to suceed)?
@ Erie_Patriot: Yes, Mr. Smith is outnumbered as Evan Harris along with the Marshal will have ca. 20 men in comparison to him and Mr. Carlisle and whatever else he is able to muster.
@ Auray: Great to hear from you again Auray! Hopefully you can find that time and catch up as quickly as possible, especially since we're closing in on the ending of this AAR.
@ Hardraade: Indeed, come morning there will not be any turning back. The final showdown is upcoming, in a sense of Good vs Evil perhaps, or Good vs Good gone extreme (in the case of Evan Harris, for some may say he has good intentions since his area is Pro-Confederate, but at what cost should he push to suceed)?
@ Erie_Patriot: Yes, Mr. Smith is outnumbered as Evan Harris along with the Marshal will have ca. 20 men in comparison to him and Mr. Carlisle and whatever else he is able to muster.
@ Auray: Great to hear from you again Auray! Hopefully you can find that time and catch up as quickly as possible, especially since we're closing in on the ending of this AAR.
Chapter Nine
Mr. Smith and his son Jeb, along with the Carlisle’s were walking out of their houses heading toward the town. The two fathers and two boys met at the roads, the final straw had been pulled. Mr. Carlisle placed his arm over his friend Mr. Smith’s shoulders and whispered something into his ears. Behind them, their two sons both wielded hunting rifles that were fully loaded and very large. Mr. Smith closed his eyes and looked back at all the wrongs that Evan Harris had done to him, the worst being the murdering of his nephew Nate, and taking Tom hostage; what else could happen to him? He has already lost one son, a nephew, and now another son is being held in prison only to be hung by morning of the next day.
Mr. Smith looked at Mr. Carlisle and nodded his head; with that, the men were off. Mr. Smith carried his Henry Repeater, and Mr. Carlisle carried two Colt Navy Pistols, one in his hand at the moment. As the marched down the road, several other men looked outside in shock that they saw two old men, and two young boys heading in the direction to challenge Evan Harris, who, more than ever, held the town in an iron grip. Jeb’s father looked at him and bluntly said, “If anything is to happen to me or Mr. Carlisle, run home as fast as you can. And stay out of the main line of fire, do you understand me?”
“Yes pa,” Jeb said, not looking nervous at all. He turned to his best friend Leslie, “Just don’t do anything stupid; we don’t want to die yet,” he said.
“I’m just glad I’m with you,” Leslie replied.
After walking for around twenty or so minutes, they approached the crest hill overlooking the town. Two riders were smoking at the heights, unaware of Mr. Smith and Mr. Carlisle approaching them. One of the horsemen quickly caught a glimpse of them, reached for his pistol but was promptly shot off of his horse by Mr. Smith with his Henry. The other rider was in shock as he looked at his dead comrade, and then quickly kicked his horse to retreat back to town. Mr. Smith quickly ran forward, rifle in his hand as he discharged the last shell casing, and rapidly aimed his rifle once more and shot the other rider dead off his horse. His arms flung in the air as he fell back off his horse, hitting the ground face first.
In the saloon in the center of the town, Evan Harris and some of his men looked up after hearing the shots. Evan smiled, his guile was cunning and his stature was demanding at this particular moment. He started walking forward towards the door, the bartender standing by. Evan looked at him, “Hold the drinks, it won’t be long,” he said as he and the Savage brothers walked out the door, quickly followed up by several other members of his troupe, heading straight out into the streets.
From inside their shops and homes, those who remained in the town started to lock up, not wanting any part of the oncoming battle. It was in the Richardson household however, that Mrs. Richardson was quick to leave her home, followed up by her husband Dr. Richardson right behind her.
At the top of the ridge, Mr. Smith and Mr. Carlisle appeared, staring straight down at the six men that were standing at the base of the ridge. The two men moved swiftly down the hill, the wind was beginning to pick up behind them. Jeb and Leslie followed behind them, but were cautious and kept their distance from their fathers in fear of actually being shot at, even though they did have weapons with them. Mr. Smith paused at the base of the ridge, Evan Harris and his men began to close the distance as they realized he wasn’t going to move any closer to them.
“Shoulda ran when you had the chance Smitty,” Evan Harris called out as he cocked his Henry Repeater, the same weapon that Mr. Smith was carrying with himself.
“We ain’t running from cowards I reckon,” he was quick to reply. Evan Harris and his men stopped around ten feet from Mr. Smith and Carlisle. “And what about you Carlisle, you have no reason to be here.”
“I stand for proper morals, and I’m done watching you destroy everything this place once stood for,” Mr. Carlisle answered back. Just then, Mr. Smith gave his fullest attention to Tank Savage, his left arm bandaged together from when he and Nate got into their struggle which ended with Tank killing him, shooting him repeatedly after his death.
Mr. Smith boldly walked forward, the five men flanking Evan were smiling and laughing slightly as the old man made his way towards them. He paused about a foot or so away from Tank, “Are you the one that killed my nephew?”
Tank replied, “Damn right, I enjoyed it too. I can’t wait to do the same thing to your son behind you,” he smiled and looked at Evan Harris.
At this moment Mr. Smith quickly raised his Henry and fired a shell off in under a second, striking Tank in the forehead and sending him crashing down to the muddy road dead. Evan and his men looked first at Tank, who was dead, then looked up at Mr. Smith who had discharged his casing and was raising his gun towards another man. Behind him, Mr. Carlisle aimed his pistol and fired off a shot that struck the man left of Evan Harris in the shoulder. The man stumbled back, his gun hand clinching his wound. Mr. Smith then fired a bullet directly into the chest of another one of Harris’ men, sending him flying back several feet, his feet flying in the air as he came to rest in the middle of the street. The fight had just begun.
Evan ducked back, bringing his Henry up and blindly firing at Will, then at Mr. Carlisle. He ran back behind the man who was clinching his shoulder wound he lifted his arm from the wound and took a shot at Mr. Carlisle which knocked his hat off his head. Off to the side, Peter Savage had taken flight behind a water rack for horses, while Mr. Smith pumped six repeated shots into a man who was stumbling back and shooting his pistol in the air as he eventually fell back into a pile of hay beside the tailor shop. The last man in the troupe was so petrified that he fled the area. He was running towards the woods as Mr. Smith rose his Henry but fired an empty rifle.
“Dammit,” he said as he brought his rifle down to reload it. The street was covered in smoke and sounds of gunshots heading in all directions.
Jeb looked at his father, then looked at Leslie, “I’m taking him,” he said as he took careful aim behind the large single-shot musket. He led the man just a tad, closed his eyes and then pulled the trigger. The force knocked him back slightly, but as he opened his eyes he saw the men fling his arms in the air, give a small shriek, then fall to the ground dead. Jeb was amazed.
Leslie yelled, “Get down,” as he saw the man protecting Evan aim directly for them. Mr. Carlisle, realizing this ran forth to protect the boys, one of the pistol shots hit him in the shoulder causing him to fall to the road.
“Tom!” cried out Mr. Smith as he cocked his Henry into action again, spitting out three shots at the man who hid with Evan behind a water barrel on the side of the street.
“I’m fine,” Mr. Carlisle said, getting back to his feet, “Let me get Peter, you take Evan,” he said.
Peter peered out from the corner of a building, shooting all six shots from his pistol towards Mr. Carlisle who was racing towards him, shooting his pistol on the move as well. Mr. Smith told the boys, to head over to Mr. Wilkes store, who was in the window waving them over. They followed the orders and ran over to the shop. Just then, out of the corner of his eyes, Evan stood up and aimed his Henry at him, Mr. Smith took careful and pulled the trigger before Evan did. However, the other man had then just got up and the bullet drilled him in the back of the head, he went sailing towards Evan who had to alter his shot and missed because of it.
At the top of the hill overlooking the south side of the town, the smoke was clearing but the thunder was still roaring as Mrs. Richardson looked down at the streets.
From the edge of the town, four more of Evan’s men appeared in the streets, two heading for Peter, the other two heading for Evan. Mr. Smith took cover in the entry way of a nearby shop. Evan and his men took up positions to counter him.
Mr. Carlisle was at this point, locked in a violent gun battle with Peter Savage, both sticking their heads out from the side of the building they were hiding behind and taking pot-shots at one another. One of Mr. Carlisle’s shots splintered the wood in front of Peter, some of which flung back and cut his face.
“Damn,” Peter said. Just then the two other men arrived behind him. They charged out and opened a hail of gunfire at Mr. Carlisle who stumbled back, eventually found himself diving into a small wheat storage barn.
Peter and the two men slowly moved up to the small barn where Mr. Carlisle was nervously reloading his pistol as he saw the shadows of the men coming closer. Peter nodded his head for the two men to take their positions. He took out his second pistol and simultaneously fired off both pistols, twelve shots entering the small barn in a span of under five seconds. The lead man cocked his pistol back, looked at his partner with long black hair and moved towards the door, opening it and seeing nothing. Mr. Carlisle then appeared from beneath a bag of wheat, his pistol only inches from the man’s chest and pulling the trigger just as quickly. The man was knocked back about six feet and was killed on the spot. He moved his pistol towards the other man who nervously fired his pistol and missed to the left. Mr. Carlisle killed him in a similar fashion. Peter then took flight, Mr. Carlisle started shooting from the inside of the barn out at the shadow of Peter, missing all of his four shots in the process.
Back in the streets, Mr. Smith was dueling with Evan and his two companions. The first man appeared out from his hiding spot, only to be shot in the head by Mr. Smith and his Henry. The man fell back into Evan’s chest; Evan abruptly spent back allowing the body to fall onto the patio of the shop. The second man popped out and took a shot at Mr. Smith with his pistol. The shot grazed him in the leg, causing him to leap back in some pain, but he re-gathered his composure and shot the other man through the chest; the blood and guts slamming into Evan’s face. Mr. Smith took one last aim at Evan.
-click-
Mr. Smith was frustrated that he was dry. He dropped his repeater to the ground and headed over to the nearby shop to take cover and take out his vintage Colt Paterson’s from his naval days.
Evan was pulling on the doorknob to try and enter the gun shop. The owner appeared in the doorway with a smile on his face. Evan shouted at the rather large man with an orange mustache, “George! George!” he yelled, pounding on the door, “Let me in!”
“It’s locked,” he replied as he raised his double-barrel shotgun at Evan. Evan dove to the ground as the twin shots shattered the door into millions of splintered pieces. Evan left his Henry in the middle of the road and rushed off to the Marshal’s station.
Mr. Smith peered out, aimed at Evan brought was alarmed when a bullet whizzed past the top of his head. He looked up; across the town Mr. Page from his barn was trying to signal something to him. Mr. Smith was quick to garner that there were two men coming around behind him. The last two of Evan’s gunmen, one of the them the same he had hung in a tree some months back, were slowly making their way to the main road, using the same shop that Mr. Smith was using for cover. He popped out from the corner, catching the men off guard, killing the lead man who was sent backwards from the force of the pistol shot, but the other was quick to react and shot Mr. Smith in the shoulder. Mr. Smith stumbled back, clutching his bullet wound.
Peter Savage saw Mr. Smith stumble into the middle of the street clutching his shoulder in pain and decided to head after him. Peter was shooting wildly at Mr. Smith who retreated towards the funeral home; Mr. Smith shot off the door lock and crashed through the main door, closing it after he had entered. Peter and the last gunman made their way to the store. The two men let loose a storm of bullets, Peter using both guns, shooting one after the other. After about ten seconds, Peter called out, “Just give up Willy, I promise I won’t kill ya.”
He ordered the other man forward but he was suddenly impaled by five shots through the door. Mr. Smith then appeared through the window, raising a second pistol and shooting at Peter. Peter fled back to the center of the town.
In the Marshal’s office, Evan shoved the Marshal and his deputies towards the front door, “You’re going out there. And you’re going to fight and help kill those damned bastards,” Evan shouted in his staunch Irish-accent, unlocking the jail cell that held Tom inside of it.
“Just give us some time!” shouted Marshal Thomas back at Evan.
In the center of the town, Mrs. Richardson appeared behind Peter. “Peter! Peter Savage, stop this madness!” she yelled. Peter only moved closer, taking her by the throat and pointing his pistol at her head.
“C’mon Willy, I have Mrs. Richardson. Well c’mon closer and see what happens!” he shouted out.
Mr. Smith was taking his time as he was again joined up by Mr. Carlisle and Mr. Page behind him. “How’s it goin’ Page?” Mr. Smith asked his old friend.
“I’m just fine,” he said back to him. “Lucky you didn’t stand any higher or I might an accidentally shot your head off,” he jokingly answered. All three were quick to hear a lot of commotion going on in the distance.
The men of the town had had enough, the thirty of so people left in the town stormed out of their shops and homes, all bearing arms and aiming them at Peter Savage who had Mrs. Richardson in a tight grip.
“Just let the lady go! Just let the lady go!” they all shouted at him.
“Well, Willy; are ya comin’?” he yelled. Through the crowd, Mr. Smith made his way to the front. The men behind him all gained their composure as they saw William Smith appear at the head of the column.
“Let her go Pete,” Mr. Smith said.
“Only when you put your guns in the dirt,” Peter replied. “Or we could do it now, just the two of us, or are you afraid to duel with a real gunslinger?”
“Peter, this is your last chance let her go.”
“As you wish,” Peter said as he spat on Mrs. Richardson, flinging her towards Mr. Smith he quickly raised his gun and pulled his trigger before Peter could aim his gun at Mr. Smith. The bullet nailed Peter in the chest, causing his to stumble back and hit his back against the wall of the building behind him. Mr. Smith unleashed four more shots into Peter’s body, killing him at last. He then turned and helped Mrs. Richardson up and brought her back to her husband behind them…
Mr. Smith and his son Jeb, along with the Carlisle’s were walking out of their houses heading toward the town. The two fathers and two boys met at the roads, the final straw had been pulled. Mr. Carlisle placed his arm over his friend Mr. Smith’s shoulders and whispered something into his ears. Behind them, their two sons both wielded hunting rifles that were fully loaded and very large. Mr. Smith closed his eyes and looked back at all the wrongs that Evan Harris had done to him, the worst being the murdering of his nephew Nate, and taking Tom hostage; what else could happen to him? He has already lost one son, a nephew, and now another son is being held in prison only to be hung by morning of the next day.
Mr. Smith looked at Mr. Carlisle and nodded his head; with that, the men were off. Mr. Smith carried his Henry Repeater, and Mr. Carlisle carried two Colt Navy Pistols, one in his hand at the moment. As the marched down the road, several other men looked outside in shock that they saw two old men, and two young boys heading in the direction to challenge Evan Harris, who, more than ever, held the town in an iron grip. Jeb’s father looked at him and bluntly said, “If anything is to happen to me or Mr. Carlisle, run home as fast as you can. And stay out of the main line of fire, do you understand me?”
“Yes pa,” Jeb said, not looking nervous at all. He turned to his best friend Leslie, “Just don’t do anything stupid; we don’t want to die yet,” he said.
“I’m just glad I’m with you,” Leslie replied.
After walking for around twenty or so minutes, they approached the crest hill overlooking the town. Two riders were smoking at the heights, unaware of Mr. Smith and Mr. Carlisle approaching them. One of the horsemen quickly caught a glimpse of them, reached for his pistol but was promptly shot off of his horse by Mr. Smith with his Henry. The other rider was in shock as he looked at his dead comrade, and then quickly kicked his horse to retreat back to town. Mr. Smith quickly ran forward, rifle in his hand as he discharged the last shell casing, and rapidly aimed his rifle once more and shot the other rider dead off his horse. His arms flung in the air as he fell back off his horse, hitting the ground face first.
In the saloon in the center of the town, Evan Harris and some of his men looked up after hearing the shots. Evan smiled, his guile was cunning and his stature was demanding at this particular moment. He started walking forward towards the door, the bartender standing by. Evan looked at him, “Hold the drinks, it won’t be long,” he said as he and the Savage brothers walked out the door, quickly followed up by several other members of his troupe, heading straight out into the streets.
From inside their shops and homes, those who remained in the town started to lock up, not wanting any part of the oncoming battle. It was in the Richardson household however, that Mrs. Richardson was quick to leave her home, followed up by her husband Dr. Richardson right behind her.
At the top of the ridge, Mr. Smith and Mr. Carlisle appeared, staring straight down at the six men that were standing at the base of the ridge. The two men moved swiftly down the hill, the wind was beginning to pick up behind them. Jeb and Leslie followed behind them, but were cautious and kept their distance from their fathers in fear of actually being shot at, even though they did have weapons with them. Mr. Smith paused at the base of the ridge, Evan Harris and his men began to close the distance as they realized he wasn’t going to move any closer to them.
“Shoulda ran when you had the chance Smitty,” Evan Harris called out as he cocked his Henry Repeater, the same weapon that Mr. Smith was carrying with himself.
“We ain’t running from cowards I reckon,” he was quick to reply. Evan Harris and his men stopped around ten feet from Mr. Smith and Carlisle. “And what about you Carlisle, you have no reason to be here.”
“I stand for proper morals, and I’m done watching you destroy everything this place once stood for,” Mr. Carlisle answered back. Just then, Mr. Smith gave his fullest attention to Tank Savage, his left arm bandaged together from when he and Nate got into their struggle which ended with Tank killing him, shooting him repeatedly after his death.
Mr. Smith boldly walked forward, the five men flanking Evan were smiling and laughing slightly as the old man made his way towards them. He paused about a foot or so away from Tank, “Are you the one that killed my nephew?”
Tank replied, “Damn right, I enjoyed it too. I can’t wait to do the same thing to your son behind you,” he smiled and looked at Evan Harris.
At this moment Mr. Smith quickly raised his Henry and fired a shell off in under a second, striking Tank in the forehead and sending him crashing down to the muddy road dead. Evan and his men looked first at Tank, who was dead, then looked up at Mr. Smith who had discharged his casing and was raising his gun towards another man. Behind him, Mr. Carlisle aimed his pistol and fired off a shot that struck the man left of Evan Harris in the shoulder. The man stumbled back, his gun hand clinching his wound. Mr. Smith then fired a bullet directly into the chest of another one of Harris’ men, sending him flying back several feet, his feet flying in the air as he came to rest in the middle of the street. The fight had just begun.
Evan ducked back, bringing his Henry up and blindly firing at Will, then at Mr. Carlisle. He ran back behind the man who was clinching his shoulder wound he lifted his arm from the wound and took a shot at Mr. Carlisle which knocked his hat off his head. Off to the side, Peter Savage had taken flight behind a water rack for horses, while Mr. Smith pumped six repeated shots into a man who was stumbling back and shooting his pistol in the air as he eventually fell back into a pile of hay beside the tailor shop. The last man in the troupe was so petrified that he fled the area. He was running towards the woods as Mr. Smith rose his Henry but fired an empty rifle.
“Dammit,” he said as he brought his rifle down to reload it. The street was covered in smoke and sounds of gunshots heading in all directions.
Jeb looked at his father, then looked at Leslie, “I’m taking him,” he said as he took careful aim behind the large single-shot musket. He led the man just a tad, closed his eyes and then pulled the trigger. The force knocked him back slightly, but as he opened his eyes he saw the men fling his arms in the air, give a small shriek, then fall to the ground dead. Jeb was amazed.
Leslie yelled, “Get down,” as he saw the man protecting Evan aim directly for them. Mr. Carlisle, realizing this ran forth to protect the boys, one of the pistol shots hit him in the shoulder causing him to fall to the road.
“Tom!” cried out Mr. Smith as he cocked his Henry into action again, spitting out three shots at the man who hid with Evan behind a water barrel on the side of the street.
“I’m fine,” Mr. Carlisle said, getting back to his feet, “Let me get Peter, you take Evan,” he said.
Peter peered out from the corner of a building, shooting all six shots from his pistol towards Mr. Carlisle who was racing towards him, shooting his pistol on the move as well. Mr. Smith told the boys, to head over to Mr. Wilkes store, who was in the window waving them over. They followed the orders and ran over to the shop. Just then, out of the corner of his eyes, Evan stood up and aimed his Henry at him, Mr. Smith took careful and pulled the trigger before Evan did. However, the other man had then just got up and the bullet drilled him in the back of the head, he went sailing towards Evan who had to alter his shot and missed because of it.
At the top of the hill overlooking the south side of the town, the smoke was clearing but the thunder was still roaring as Mrs. Richardson looked down at the streets.
From the edge of the town, four more of Evan’s men appeared in the streets, two heading for Peter, the other two heading for Evan. Mr. Smith took cover in the entry way of a nearby shop. Evan and his men took up positions to counter him.
Mr. Carlisle was at this point, locked in a violent gun battle with Peter Savage, both sticking their heads out from the side of the building they were hiding behind and taking pot-shots at one another. One of Mr. Carlisle’s shots splintered the wood in front of Peter, some of which flung back and cut his face.
“Damn,” Peter said. Just then the two other men arrived behind him. They charged out and opened a hail of gunfire at Mr. Carlisle who stumbled back, eventually found himself diving into a small wheat storage barn.
Peter and the two men slowly moved up to the small barn where Mr. Carlisle was nervously reloading his pistol as he saw the shadows of the men coming closer. Peter nodded his head for the two men to take their positions. He took out his second pistol and simultaneously fired off both pistols, twelve shots entering the small barn in a span of under five seconds. The lead man cocked his pistol back, looked at his partner with long black hair and moved towards the door, opening it and seeing nothing. Mr. Carlisle then appeared from beneath a bag of wheat, his pistol only inches from the man’s chest and pulling the trigger just as quickly. The man was knocked back about six feet and was killed on the spot. He moved his pistol towards the other man who nervously fired his pistol and missed to the left. Mr. Carlisle killed him in a similar fashion. Peter then took flight, Mr. Carlisle started shooting from the inside of the barn out at the shadow of Peter, missing all of his four shots in the process.
Back in the streets, Mr. Smith was dueling with Evan and his two companions. The first man appeared out from his hiding spot, only to be shot in the head by Mr. Smith and his Henry. The man fell back into Evan’s chest; Evan abruptly spent back allowing the body to fall onto the patio of the shop. The second man popped out and took a shot at Mr. Smith with his pistol. The shot grazed him in the leg, causing him to leap back in some pain, but he re-gathered his composure and shot the other man through the chest; the blood and guts slamming into Evan’s face. Mr. Smith took one last aim at Evan.
-click-
Mr. Smith was frustrated that he was dry. He dropped his repeater to the ground and headed over to the nearby shop to take cover and take out his vintage Colt Paterson’s from his naval days.
Evan was pulling on the doorknob to try and enter the gun shop. The owner appeared in the doorway with a smile on his face. Evan shouted at the rather large man with an orange mustache, “George! George!” he yelled, pounding on the door, “Let me in!”
“It’s locked,” he replied as he raised his double-barrel shotgun at Evan. Evan dove to the ground as the twin shots shattered the door into millions of splintered pieces. Evan left his Henry in the middle of the road and rushed off to the Marshal’s station.
Mr. Smith peered out, aimed at Evan brought was alarmed when a bullet whizzed past the top of his head. He looked up; across the town Mr. Page from his barn was trying to signal something to him. Mr. Smith was quick to garner that there were two men coming around behind him. The last two of Evan’s gunmen, one of the them the same he had hung in a tree some months back, were slowly making their way to the main road, using the same shop that Mr. Smith was using for cover. He popped out from the corner, catching the men off guard, killing the lead man who was sent backwards from the force of the pistol shot, but the other was quick to react and shot Mr. Smith in the shoulder. Mr. Smith stumbled back, clutching his bullet wound.
Peter Savage saw Mr. Smith stumble into the middle of the street clutching his shoulder in pain and decided to head after him. Peter was shooting wildly at Mr. Smith who retreated towards the funeral home; Mr. Smith shot off the door lock and crashed through the main door, closing it after he had entered. Peter and the last gunman made their way to the store. The two men let loose a storm of bullets, Peter using both guns, shooting one after the other. After about ten seconds, Peter called out, “Just give up Willy, I promise I won’t kill ya.”
He ordered the other man forward but he was suddenly impaled by five shots through the door. Mr. Smith then appeared through the window, raising a second pistol and shooting at Peter. Peter fled back to the center of the town.
In the Marshal’s office, Evan shoved the Marshal and his deputies towards the front door, “You’re going out there. And you’re going to fight and help kill those damned bastards,” Evan shouted in his staunch Irish-accent, unlocking the jail cell that held Tom inside of it.
“Just give us some time!” shouted Marshal Thomas back at Evan.
In the center of the town, Mrs. Richardson appeared behind Peter. “Peter! Peter Savage, stop this madness!” she yelled. Peter only moved closer, taking her by the throat and pointing his pistol at her head.
“C’mon Willy, I have Mrs. Richardson. Well c’mon closer and see what happens!” he shouted out.
Mr. Smith was taking his time as he was again joined up by Mr. Carlisle and Mr. Page behind him. “How’s it goin’ Page?” Mr. Smith asked his old friend.
“I’m just fine,” he said back to him. “Lucky you didn’t stand any higher or I might an accidentally shot your head off,” he jokingly answered. All three were quick to hear a lot of commotion going on in the distance.
The men of the town had had enough, the thirty of so people left in the town stormed out of their shops and homes, all bearing arms and aiming them at Peter Savage who had Mrs. Richardson in a tight grip.
“Just let the lady go! Just let the lady go!” they all shouted at him.
“Well, Willy; are ya comin’?” he yelled. Through the crowd, Mr. Smith made his way to the front. The men behind him all gained their composure as they saw William Smith appear at the head of the column.
“Let her go Pete,” Mr. Smith said.
“Only when you put your guns in the dirt,” Peter replied. “Or we could do it now, just the two of us, or are you afraid to duel with a real gunslinger?”
“Peter, this is your last chance let her go.”
“As you wish,” Peter said as he spat on Mrs. Richardson, flinging her towards Mr. Smith he quickly raised his gun and pulled his trigger before Peter could aim his gun at Mr. Smith. The bullet nailed Peter in the chest, causing his to stumble back and hit his back against the wall of the building behind him. Mr. Smith unleashed four more shots into Peter’s body, killing him at last. He then turned and helped Mrs. Richardson up and brought her back to her husband behind them…
And Evan still remains.
So Tom is still alive?
That's very weird.
Or maybe both Evan and Tom shall die in the next chapter.
So Tom is still alive?
That's very weird.
Or maybe both Evan and Tom shall die in the next chapter.
Fantastic! I wonder what is going to happen next, I guess Smith and Harris will finally face off.
Tank Savage got what he deserved with that bullet to the forehead! Great stuff, excellent work especially since it was dealing with a shootout in the middle of the town streets!
Tank Savage got what he deserved with that bullet to the forehead! Great stuff, excellent work especially since it was dealing with a shootout in the middle of the town streets!
And Evan still remains.
So Tom is still alive?
That's very weird.
Or maybe both Evan and Tom shall die in the next chapter.
Everything will be solved in the next update!
Fantastic! I wonder what is going to happen next, I guess Smith and Harris will finally face off.
Tank Savage got what he deserved with that bullet to the forehead! Great stuff, excellent work especially since it was dealing with a shootout in the middle of the town streets!
Thanks! These updates have been hard to come by as I've tried several different versions and copies. In the end, after editing and re-reading I've decided upon which one I considered to be the best.
Chapter Ten: Saints and Angels
Chapter Ten
From the other side of the road, Evan Harris yelled out, “Billy! I got cha kid! Now you just come crawling up to me and beg for my forgiveness and drop your guns in the dirt,” he yelled, wielding his pistol, pointing it blindly at the crowd as intimidation tool.
Mr. Smith and Carlisle took the lead with their sons behind them. “Jeb stay back,” Mr. Smith said, using his arm to swipe Jeb and Leslie aside; ensuring they wouldn’t come following them in the streets.
“No pa, I’m tired of running. We’re gonna kill this bastard right here and right now,” Jeb shockingly said to his father, but nonetheless he obeyed what his father had said.
Mr. Smith smiled. Behind him, Mr. Page was moving forward with some of the others in the town. Behind them was the rest of the town with their guns drawn and inching forward.
“You all just better stay where you’s are if you’s all want to live!” shouted Evan at them. “I’ll let you know, anyone who stands against me will have their house burned down and tossed out into the streets! And why do you even care Page! If you don’t head back home your son will be next!”
“We’re not afraid of you anymore Evan!” shouted Mr. Page back at him.
“I think we could change that!” shouted Evan back at him.
“William Smith is our friend!” Mr. Page shouted back with Mr. Smith looking at his friend, both grateful and shocked that he was standing up to Evan Harris.
Marshal Thomas had his pistol aiming at Tom who was lying on the road bloodied and beaten. Mr. Smith shouted out to him, “Well Marshal, so much for you isn’t it?”
“This is what I was born to do, stop fools like you!” he shouted back to Mr. Smith. “I make my own laws in this town.
“And too think I once respected you before this. But I look and think that it is Evan not you who makes the town laws I reckon,” Mr. Smith said as he turned to Mr. Carlisle. “Be ready for anything.”
“Always,” said Mr. Carlisle back to him.
“William, I’d hate to go to your home and tell you sweet wife what happened to the man she loved,” said Marshal Thomas.
“I’m sure you would love to have that chance,” Mr. Smith answered back.
Evan Harris looked like the devil at this point, “Willy! I’m talking straight to you, you poor bastard. I recall you once said you couldn’t wait to face me one on one in a gun battle, now’s the chance. No more people have to die!”
“The only one’s who have been killed so far are your men Evan!”
“I knew you were just a coward Billy. Don’t you want to stick to your word and try and beat the fastest gun east of the Mississippi just like you said back in winter? Afraid that I’ll draw and shot you before you even blink?”
“You ain’t got nothing Evan. It ain’t worth my honor to let a murderer like you to have a fair chance when you’ve given on one a fair chance.”
“I didn’t come all the way from Ireland, to see my world pissed on by a couple of American Imperialist!” shouted Evan.
“I’ll tell you what Evan; I’ll accept that duel with cha, on one condition.”
“That is…” Evan said without finishing as all the townsfolk looked worried and were clutching their weapons as if a massive final shootout was to occur.
“The winner, well I think you get my point. If I win, that’s straight forward. If you win, you can kill my son Tom, but you can’t harm anyone else in my family nor this town. Good enough for you?”
“Yes,” said Evan. “Look, you have your people to make sure that it is a fair fight. I have the Marshal to ensure it is a fair fight. Alright? No bullshit,” Evan said as he moved towards the Marshal. He paused and whispered something in his ears, “If he somehow wins, just kill him and his son anyways.”
“Of course Evan,” said Marshal Thomas.
“Do you need a pistol Bill; I know you’re not a big fan like I am.”
“No,” laughed Mr. Smith as he pulled back his coat to reveal to Evan his two Colt Paterson pistols. Evan laughed as he saw the old rusted barrels staring at him from across the street.
The crowd of people seemed to be at a standstill knowing what was about to happen. Several men started to take a few steps closer to Mr. Smith but would stop and look nervously back at the others behind them and then at Evan Harris and the Marshal and his men.
“If I could remember you’re not an expert in Colonel Colts’ pistols.” Evan said. “Well this will be your first and last lesson in pistol warfare,” Evan said with a smirk. “Ha, look! You’re standing where my old pistol target used to be during the winter. I think I killed a few men there as well as a few animals. Now I know you know how they do it out west. Just a few steps back and turn,” Even paused and looked Mr. Smith straight in the eyes. “You know, I believe that some men live on the wrong continent. I believe, I live in the wrong state.”
Mr. Smith looked at Evan straight in the face, “This ain’t the west. And you ain’t been a western duel before,” said Mr. Smith.
“Prove it,” said Evan. Both men were staring each other down, waiting for the other to flinch first. In the crowd, Jeb was nervously looking at his father along with the rest of the town. Tom could barely see out of his damaged eyes but only smiled as the Marshal kept an eye on the Evan and Mr. Smith, while periodically checking Tom beneath him.
Evan was slowly moving his fingers all around and above his pistol. His fancy Colt was polished and loaded; Mr. Smith’s was beat-up, rusted, and old. The two men were hovering over their weapons. Evan looked at William. William looked at Even. Just after two minutes of staring each other down, Evan made a quick move towards his pistol. It was the quickest movement any of the townspeople had ever seen. Mr. Smith was quick to respond to Evan’s sudden movement. Suddenly a single shot rang out in the streets. Evan smiled.
Evan than began to breath funny. He began to stagger back with his pistol still in his holster. About thirty feet in front of him Mr. Smith stood with his pistol out of his holster and smoke coming from his barrel. Evan fell to the ground finally drawing his pistol from his holster.
Marshal Thomas and his three deputies looked at one another in shock. They were unsure if they should kill William Smith as he had just freed them in essence. Marshal Thomas however would have none of this. The Marshal reached for his pistol, as he did his three deputies reached as well. Mr. Smith saw their motions and fired off his last four shots in under a second, sending all the men including the Marshal down to the ground dead, without any of their hands on their pistols. Mr. Smith began walking over to Evan Harris who was lying on the ground with a large red stain hole in his chest. He looked up as Mr. Smith blocked the sun from him.
Mr. Smith looked down at him, “I said I don’t see much use in a pistol. I never said I didn’t know how to use one,” dropping his Colt Paterson onto Evan’s chest with a smile.
Evan looked at him, he sighed and was breathing heavily, “I don’t deserve to die like this,” he managed to say. “How?” he asked as he began to fade away.
“If you ever heard the Western legend of the California Sailor, that was me,” Mr. Smith said as he began to walk away.
“No, I… I…” said Evan Harris. He peered straight up into the sun and the clouds, squinting his eyes as he tried to realize what had just happened to him; that he’d been shot square through his own chest.
Evan took his final breaths and tried to life his pistol up for one last shot, but he failed. Evan slumped back and his pistol hit the edge of the dirt road and fell out of his hand. Evan Harris died right where he had been shot. Mr. Smith walked towards Tom, Jeb following him. He helped his son up and they began walking through the crowd, everyone cheering and tapping him on the shoulder. Evan was dead as were all his men. The town was free and Mr. Smith walked up to Doctor Richardson, “Treat him well.”
“I will Bill,” said Doctor Richardson.
Jeb smiled at his dad, his dad smiled back at him. “Come on, let’s go home.”
~ It was June now, the year 1862, peace had finally been brought back to the town of Wilson’s Creek. With Evan Harris dead, a new Marshal in place, the town offered Mr. William Smith the position of mayor in the town, he however declined it; deciding to spend the rest of his time with his family. So much had gone on in his life, from the loss of his son Bill, to the death of his nephew Nate, to the more recent marriage of his son Tom to Jennifer Dawes; the sun was finally shining over him and his family.
It was a bright June day, yesterday, news of a great battle in Maryland had reached the town; it was the first key Union victory of the war, if you could call it that. The Confederate push towards Washington was stopped cold by Major General Hancock near some unknown farming community in Maryland. The Union Army was battered and beaten but not defeated. The Confederates were falling back to Virginia, if there was ever a more golden opportunity to win the war, the Confederacy may have just seen it slip away.
Mr. Smith walked outside into his yard; the crops were growing in nicely. Behind him, Jeb was stunned to see Tom’s friends appear one by one, those who had been lucky enough to survive the war so far.
Shane, Paul, and Justin all congratulated Tom and gave Mr. Smith their condolences about Bill and Nate; especially Bill whom they were all friends with. They were here on leave as the Union Army was stationed only miles away.
News came in that the Union Army needed someone in a special position, this morning would bring about it the end of this story and the beginning of another. Jeb walked outside in the bright morning sun, dressed in his dark blue uniform with white stripes and bands going all around it. His drum was strapped on tight and he took a deep breath, looking at his father and mother with a tear in his eye. A sense of both pride and pity ran through Tom as he saw his younger brother in his military gear.
Jeb walked up to his father, he hugged him and went on to his mother. His mother was teary and trying to keep her composure, she lifted him up and gave him one last hug and kiss, and set him down. From the corner of the street, a Union colonel appeared on horseback, Jeb’s calling card was finally here. He turned back to his family, teary but proud of his choice.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be back. I promise,” he said and turned about, playing his drum to a Union marching tune. Behind him Shane, Paul, and Justin began humming the tone that was being played on the drums, as Jeb walked across the tall fields of grass towards his future adventure.
Mrs. Smith looked at her husband, the sun rising behind them, “What’s going to happen, who’s going to watch over him?”
The sun rose over their heads, clearing the sky and piercing down across the yard. Mr. Smith smiled with a tear in his eye, “The only things looking out over him now are Saints and Angels.”
Chapter Ten
From the other side of the road, Evan Harris yelled out, “Billy! I got cha kid! Now you just come crawling up to me and beg for my forgiveness and drop your guns in the dirt,” he yelled, wielding his pistol, pointing it blindly at the crowd as intimidation tool.
Mr. Smith and Carlisle took the lead with their sons behind them. “Jeb stay back,” Mr. Smith said, using his arm to swipe Jeb and Leslie aside; ensuring they wouldn’t come following them in the streets.
“No pa, I’m tired of running. We’re gonna kill this bastard right here and right now,” Jeb shockingly said to his father, but nonetheless he obeyed what his father had said.
Mr. Smith smiled. Behind him, Mr. Page was moving forward with some of the others in the town. Behind them was the rest of the town with their guns drawn and inching forward.
“You all just better stay where you’s are if you’s all want to live!” shouted Evan at them. “I’ll let you know, anyone who stands against me will have their house burned down and tossed out into the streets! And why do you even care Page! If you don’t head back home your son will be next!”
“We’re not afraid of you anymore Evan!” shouted Mr. Page back at him.
“I think we could change that!” shouted Evan back at him.
“William Smith is our friend!” Mr. Page shouted back with Mr. Smith looking at his friend, both grateful and shocked that he was standing up to Evan Harris.
Marshal Thomas had his pistol aiming at Tom who was lying on the road bloodied and beaten. Mr. Smith shouted out to him, “Well Marshal, so much for you isn’t it?”
“This is what I was born to do, stop fools like you!” he shouted back to Mr. Smith. “I make my own laws in this town.
“And too think I once respected you before this. But I look and think that it is Evan not you who makes the town laws I reckon,” Mr. Smith said as he turned to Mr. Carlisle. “Be ready for anything.”
“Always,” said Mr. Carlisle back to him.
“William, I’d hate to go to your home and tell you sweet wife what happened to the man she loved,” said Marshal Thomas.
“I’m sure you would love to have that chance,” Mr. Smith answered back.
Evan Harris looked like the devil at this point, “Willy! I’m talking straight to you, you poor bastard. I recall you once said you couldn’t wait to face me one on one in a gun battle, now’s the chance. No more people have to die!”
“The only one’s who have been killed so far are your men Evan!”
“I knew you were just a coward Billy. Don’t you want to stick to your word and try and beat the fastest gun east of the Mississippi just like you said back in winter? Afraid that I’ll draw and shot you before you even blink?”
“You ain’t got nothing Evan. It ain’t worth my honor to let a murderer like you to have a fair chance when you’ve given on one a fair chance.”
“I didn’t come all the way from Ireland, to see my world pissed on by a couple of American Imperialist!” shouted Evan.
“I’ll tell you what Evan; I’ll accept that duel with cha, on one condition.”
“That is…” Evan said without finishing as all the townsfolk looked worried and were clutching their weapons as if a massive final shootout was to occur.
“The winner, well I think you get my point. If I win, that’s straight forward. If you win, you can kill my son Tom, but you can’t harm anyone else in my family nor this town. Good enough for you?”
“Yes,” said Evan. “Look, you have your people to make sure that it is a fair fight. I have the Marshal to ensure it is a fair fight. Alright? No bullshit,” Evan said as he moved towards the Marshal. He paused and whispered something in his ears, “If he somehow wins, just kill him and his son anyways.”
“Of course Evan,” said Marshal Thomas.
“Do you need a pistol Bill; I know you’re not a big fan like I am.”
“No,” laughed Mr. Smith as he pulled back his coat to reveal to Evan his two Colt Paterson pistols. Evan laughed as he saw the old rusted barrels staring at him from across the street.
The crowd of people seemed to be at a standstill knowing what was about to happen. Several men started to take a few steps closer to Mr. Smith but would stop and look nervously back at the others behind them and then at Evan Harris and the Marshal and his men.
“If I could remember you’re not an expert in Colonel Colts’ pistols.” Evan said. “Well this will be your first and last lesson in pistol warfare,” Evan said with a smirk. “Ha, look! You’re standing where my old pistol target used to be during the winter. I think I killed a few men there as well as a few animals. Now I know you know how they do it out west. Just a few steps back and turn,” Even paused and looked Mr. Smith straight in the eyes. “You know, I believe that some men live on the wrong continent. I believe, I live in the wrong state.”
Mr. Smith looked at Evan straight in the face, “This ain’t the west. And you ain’t been a western duel before,” said Mr. Smith.
“Prove it,” said Evan. Both men were staring each other down, waiting for the other to flinch first. In the crowd, Jeb was nervously looking at his father along with the rest of the town. Tom could barely see out of his damaged eyes but only smiled as the Marshal kept an eye on the Evan and Mr. Smith, while periodically checking Tom beneath him.
Evan was slowly moving his fingers all around and above his pistol. His fancy Colt was polished and loaded; Mr. Smith’s was beat-up, rusted, and old. The two men were hovering over their weapons. Evan looked at William. William looked at Even. Just after two minutes of staring each other down, Evan made a quick move towards his pistol. It was the quickest movement any of the townspeople had ever seen. Mr. Smith was quick to respond to Evan’s sudden movement. Suddenly a single shot rang out in the streets. Evan smiled.
Evan than began to breath funny. He began to stagger back with his pistol still in his holster. About thirty feet in front of him Mr. Smith stood with his pistol out of his holster and smoke coming from his barrel. Evan fell to the ground finally drawing his pistol from his holster.
Marshal Thomas and his three deputies looked at one another in shock. They were unsure if they should kill William Smith as he had just freed them in essence. Marshal Thomas however would have none of this. The Marshal reached for his pistol, as he did his three deputies reached as well. Mr. Smith saw their motions and fired off his last four shots in under a second, sending all the men including the Marshal down to the ground dead, without any of their hands on their pistols. Mr. Smith began walking over to Evan Harris who was lying on the ground with a large red stain hole in his chest. He looked up as Mr. Smith blocked the sun from him.
Mr. Smith looked down at him, “I said I don’t see much use in a pistol. I never said I didn’t know how to use one,” dropping his Colt Paterson onto Evan’s chest with a smile.
Evan looked at him, he sighed and was breathing heavily, “I don’t deserve to die like this,” he managed to say. “How?” he asked as he began to fade away.
“If you ever heard the Western legend of the California Sailor, that was me,” Mr. Smith said as he began to walk away.
“No, I… I…” said Evan Harris. He peered straight up into the sun and the clouds, squinting his eyes as he tried to realize what had just happened to him; that he’d been shot square through his own chest.
Evan took his final breaths and tried to life his pistol up for one last shot, but he failed. Evan slumped back and his pistol hit the edge of the dirt road and fell out of his hand. Evan Harris died right where he had been shot. Mr. Smith walked towards Tom, Jeb following him. He helped his son up and they began walking through the crowd, everyone cheering and tapping him on the shoulder. Evan was dead as were all his men. The town was free and Mr. Smith walked up to Doctor Richardson, “Treat him well.”
“I will Bill,” said Doctor Richardson.
Jeb smiled at his dad, his dad smiled back at him. “Come on, let’s go home.”
~ It was June now, the year 1862, peace had finally been brought back to the town of Wilson’s Creek. With Evan Harris dead, a new Marshal in place, the town offered Mr. William Smith the position of mayor in the town, he however declined it; deciding to spend the rest of his time with his family. So much had gone on in his life, from the loss of his son Bill, to the death of his nephew Nate, to the more recent marriage of his son Tom to Jennifer Dawes; the sun was finally shining over him and his family.
It was a bright June day, yesterday, news of a great battle in Maryland had reached the town; it was the first key Union victory of the war, if you could call it that. The Confederate push towards Washington was stopped cold by Major General Hancock near some unknown farming community in Maryland. The Union Army was battered and beaten but not defeated. The Confederates were falling back to Virginia, if there was ever a more golden opportunity to win the war, the Confederacy may have just seen it slip away.
Mr. Smith walked outside into his yard; the crops were growing in nicely. Behind him, Jeb was stunned to see Tom’s friends appear one by one, those who had been lucky enough to survive the war so far.
Shane, Paul, and Justin all congratulated Tom and gave Mr. Smith their condolences about Bill and Nate; especially Bill whom they were all friends with. They were here on leave as the Union Army was stationed only miles away.
News came in that the Union Army needed someone in a special position, this morning would bring about it the end of this story and the beginning of another. Jeb walked outside in the bright morning sun, dressed in his dark blue uniform with white stripes and bands going all around it. His drum was strapped on tight and he took a deep breath, looking at his father and mother with a tear in his eye. A sense of both pride and pity ran through Tom as he saw his younger brother in his military gear.
Jeb walked up to his father, he hugged him and went on to his mother. His mother was teary and trying to keep her composure, she lifted him up and gave him one last hug and kiss, and set him down. From the corner of the street, a Union colonel appeared on horseback, Jeb’s calling card was finally here. He turned back to his family, teary but proud of his choice.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be back. I promise,” he said and turned about, playing his drum to a Union marching tune. Behind him Shane, Paul, and Justin began humming the tone that was being played on the drums, as Jeb walked across the tall fields of grass towards his future adventure.
Mrs. Smith looked at her husband, the sun rising behind them, “What’s going to happen, who’s going to watch over him?”
The sun rose over their heads, clearing the sky and piercing down across the yard. Mr. Smith smiled with a tear in his eye, “The only things looking out over him now are Saints and Angels.”
THE END
Congratulations on finishing this AAR! Perhaps we'll see a continuation with Jeb in the Union Army?
This was a superb AAR without a doubt!
This was a superb AAR without a doubt!
Afterword
@ Enewald: A happy ending? I'm not one for the sterotypical happy ending. Plus, it leaves the door open for more! and thanks! I'm glad you liked it.
@ Erie_Patriot: Thank you! As for Jeb... only time will tell. Maybe when Vicky 2 comes out!
@ Hardraade: Thanks much! I must say without the support of you and others, this would have never been finished.
@ TheEnlighted1: A legend, I'm not sure of that, but many thanks my friend!
Afterword
I must say, first off, if it wasn't for the support of the many readAARs, whether you be silent or commenting, I would have never had the motivation to continue this AAR. Afterall, the amount of comments and views, I think here in the Forums, can affect if the writAAR's ambitions to continue.
So first off, I would like to send a special thank you to: Enewald, Hardraade, Erie_Patriot, and BritishImperial who were the most loyal of the commentators and readAARs, being with this AAR from start to finish (which took near about 9 months to complete).
This story came to me after playing through a tradition Vicky game, but I wanted to take my thumb in Forum writing, as I've been fishing around these waters a guest for about two years, first in the HoI 2 Forum, then migrating to the Vicky Forum not long afterward. The splendid AARs that I read during those times influenced me heavily in my own drive and work. As for Saints and Angels, I must admit the AAR became more than what I originally intended. Originally, the AAR was to follow Jeb only, but eventually made its way covering more: Tom, Bill, the Civil War in general, Mr. Smith, and Evan Harris. Major influences on this AAR were the real life movies: Cold Mountain, the Patriot, and Gods and Generals; the book: Across Five Aprils, and of course my pure imagination to take the story to the many places it went to.
So I would to thank all those who have read this AAR, and all those who may read it now that it is completed. Thanks for all the support along the way, and I know I won't forget this AAR as it was my first, and now the first I finished. I hope all those who read it got more than just a AAR as well, a major theme I eventually incorporated was to NEVER give up in life, as if Tom had or the Smith Family had, then they wouldn't have survived, in this the term: Find your way home, was put in the title slide; and I also hope all those who read this weren't bored my writing skills. So one more time, I would like to say thanks, and now I shall close.
@ Enewald: A happy ending? I'm not one for the sterotypical happy ending. Plus, it leaves the door open for more! and thanks! I'm glad you liked it.
@ Erie_Patriot: Thank you! As for Jeb... only time will tell. Maybe when Vicky 2 comes out!
@ Hardraade: Thanks much! I must say without the support of you and others, this would have never been finished.
@ TheEnlighted1: A legend, I'm not sure of that, but many thanks my friend!
Afterword
I must say, first off, if it wasn't for the support of the many readAARs, whether you be silent or commenting, I would have never had the motivation to continue this AAR. Afterall, the amount of comments and views, I think here in the Forums, can affect if the writAAR's ambitions to continue.
So first off, I would like to send a special thank you to: Enewald, Hardraade, Erie_Patriot, and BritishImperial who were the most loyal of the commentators and readAARs, being with this AAR from start to finish (which took near about 9 months to complete).
This story came to me after playing through a tradition Vicky game, but I wanted to take my thumb in Forum writing, as I've been fishing around these waters a guest for about two years, first in the HoI 2 Forum, then migrating to the Vicky Forum not long afterward. The splendid AARs that I read during those times influenced me heavily in my own drive and work. As for Saints and Angels, I must admit the AAR became more than what I originally intended. Originally, the AAR was to follow Jeb only, but eventually made its way covering more: Tom, Bill, the Civil War in general, Mr. Smith, and Evan Harris. Major influences on this AAR were the real life movies: Cold Mountain, the Patriot, and Gods and Generals; the book: Across Five Aprils, and of course my pure imagination to take the story to the many places it went to.
So I would to thank all those who have read this AAR, and all those who may read it now that it is completed. Thanks for all the support along the way, and I know I won't forget this AAR as it was my first, and now the first I finished. I hope all those who read it got more than just a AAR as well, a major theme I eventually incorporated was to NEVER give up in life, as if Tom had or the Smith Family had, then they wouldn't have survived, in this the term: Find your way home, was put in the title slide; and I also hope all those who read this weren't bored my writing skills. So one more time, I would like to say thanks, and now I shall close.
9 intriguing months.
Hmm, I have here only 75 posts. Not too bad.
You still cannot defeat my nihilistic ideas.
Hmm, I have here only 75 posts. Not too bad.
You still cannot defeat my nihilistic ideas.