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"SSC3 - Ropeburn"

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Thu 19/10/06 at 12:18
Regular
"not dead"
Posts: 11,145
Betraying JJ Black and his gang may not have been Clay Burrow’s wisest move, but how often do you find yourself and the loot on the right-side of a cave in? Maybe that stick of dynamite made it a little worse for the boys, but Clay was an opportunist, and this was his chance to get away from Eagle Nest before it all went to Hell. It was a town in turmoil – there was no law, and since the weekend, no whisky. And a town with no whisky only has so long before it self-destructs – especially when the likes of JJ’s Black Gang call it home.

Trouble was that Clay hadn’t long been in with the Black Gang. He didn’t know all their little secrets. For instance that particular cave had another entrance, and before Clay could even got to the other side of the lake he could hear JJ and the boys whooping away, and cheering for blood. He figured he’d made a bit of a mistake, that his plan wasn’t particularly well thought out – he certainly hadn’t planned on the horses bolting when the dynamite blast went off.

He cursed the unforgiving full moon, bathing light on him as he tried to duck down in the reeds on the lakeside. He stepped too close to the edge and cursed again as he felt his boot fill with water. A coyote called out, it sounded close, much closer than the typical coyote calls he’s heard out here. He was directly between it and the rest of the gang – if they were to look out toward it they’d almost certainly see him. Just a short distance away, amongst the rocks, Clay could see it lay on its side, howling away. “Come to me,” it seemed to say – calling out to Clay. He thought he was going crazy as he looked over at the fallen beast, compelled to go to its aid. He ducked his head out from the reeds to get a look across to the other side. JJ was on the move, coming round to the left with Quinn and ‘Hound Dog’ Howie. On the other side, closing in were Bill and Sam, the Carver twins – they’d spot him for sure, but the coyote kept on calling. Maybe madness had crept across him, but he had to go. As he crawled out of the reeds, dark cloud filled the sky, hiding the moon, throwing the plain into blackness.

Clay, keeping low, hurried across to where the coyote lay. His back leg was trapped in a noose, the hair worn away as it’d tried to struggle free. Clay picked at the knot in the rope, loosening it enough for the leg to pull free. The coyote turned to him, nodding its head as if to say ‘thank you’, before it departed, jumping high onto the rocks. From the other side, far away from where Clay now was a flurry of small stones fell down the side. JJ and the gang all looked up, and darted towards the spot, assuming that it was Clay that had caused the rock fall. All Clay had to do was keep his head down, and the gang had soon left him far behind.

The problem with Clay though, is that he’s the sort of chap that finds keeping his head down difficult, especially when he’s in the money. Albuquerque clearly wasn’t far enough from Eagle Nest for Clay to be safe from JJ, but as soon as he saw the advantages a bit of gold gave him, JJ slipped from his mind. Rumours of a stranger showing up, buying whatever he fancied didn’t take too long to spread, and the Carver twins got wind of it within a few weeks. They paid a little visit, keeping their distance, watching Clay, wanting to strike, but knowing that JJ would want to do it himself – after all, he had a hell of lump on the back of his head from the cave. When Sam told JJ he’d seen Clay in the saloon, a girl on each arm and a grin from ear to ear, he was madder than ever.

When the Black Gang are heading for town, people tend to find out, and get well out of the way. But for all of the money he had left Clay couldn’t buy protection. The sheriff was happy to take that money, but all it got him was a horse, and a promise not to tell them which way he’d gone. And when he had a gun in his face it didn’t take the sheriff long into the night to break that promise.

Clay found himself again cursing the skies. The cycle was complete, and again the fat moon bathed light upon him. JJ and his gang could be heard closing in behind. There was nowhere to hide. The sound of a shotgun blast momentarily proceeded the fall of his horse, and he found himself thrown onto the gravel. He barely had time to get to his feet before ‘Hound Dog’ Howie was upon him. Clay looked up as Howie spat tobacco into his face, filthy stinking brown muck, but he didn’t have the guts to wipe it off. JJ arrived on the scene and swung a boot into his face, knocking him out cold.

He woke to find his arms tied firmly behind his back, and another rope around his neck. Quinn had hold of the other end and threw it over the branches of a solitary tree. As the men lined up to take hold of the rope the call of a coyote pierced the air.
“Pull!” called JJ, but as Clay’s feet rose from the ground Howie was send sprawling to the floor. Quinn and the Carver’s let go, and turned towards Howie, who was rolling around, trying to hold a coyote off himself. JJ took his shotgun and blasted at the animal. Somehow the shot missed him altogether, but tore through three of Howie’s fingers on the other side. His grip on the coyote slipped and its teeth sunk into his throat. The animal stood and growled at JJ and his gang, blood dripping from his open mouth. Clay started to pull at the rope round his neck, giving himself more air. Again a thick cloud covered the moon, and the coyote disappeared from view. The Carvers panicked, heading back towards their horses, but as Bill tried to mount, the coyote took him out. Sam stood still, hoping to avoid detection, but as soon as Bill’s cry turned into a fading gurgle the coyote was upon him too, sinking sharp teeth into his flesh. Quinn fired a shot that took a chunk out of the side of Sam’s face – the coyote again nowhere to be seen.

JJ backed up towards the tree, grabbing Clay on the way, pulling the rope back tightly around his neck as he used him as a shield. Quinn came towards them.
“Stay right there,” said JJ, raising his shotgun.
Quinn froze, “Hey, what you doing?”
“You’re bait,” said JJ with a grin as he kept the gun poised on Quinn.
He didn’t have to wait long for the coyote to strike. Quinn was so focussed on the shotgun pointing at him that he didn’t even see it coming, striking hard and fast, slicing through his gut and pulling intestine out onto the ground.
JJ fired blindly, the shot going over both Quinn and the coyote.
Cursing he threw the gun down.
“Well I’m not letting that stinking animal take you out, old friend – you’re all mine,” he said to Clay, placing a foot on his back and pushing him away as he pulled on the rope.
“Thieving son of a no good…” he started before he felt a fierce pain in the back of his leg as the coyote took out a chunk of his calf. He let go of the rope, leaving Clay to slump forward, struggling for breath. JJ pulled a knife from his belt and crawled toward Clay. As he raised the knife the coyote pounced again, onto his back, taking his neck between his teeth and twisting it with his powerful jaws. JJ slumped forward as the cloud across the moon cleared. Clay tried to get a finger between the rope and his neck, but weak and dizzying, found the necessary composure lacking. The coyote closed on him, the stink of fresh blood on his breath an almost overpowering stench as he felt himself fading. The coyote’s fangs closed around Clay’s neck, and suddenly he felt his breath coming back to him. With a couple of short yips the coyote turned to leave. As Clay pulled the rope fully free from his neck he noticed the rope-burn on the animals back leg as it left.
Thu 19/10/06 at 12:18
Regular
"not dead"
Posts: 11,145
Betraying JJ Black and his gang may not have been Clay Burrow’s wisest move, but how often do you find yourself and the loot on the right-side of a cave in? Maybe that stick of dynamite made it a little worse for the boys, but Clay was an opportunist, and this was his chance to get away from Eagle Nest before it all went to Hell. It was a town in turmoil – there was no law, and since the weekend, no whisky. And a town with no whisky only has so long before it self-destructs – especially when the likes of JJ’s Black Gang call it home.

Trouble was that Clay hadn’t long been in with the Black Gang. He didn’t know all their little secrets. For instance that particular cave had another entrance, and before Clay could even got to the other side of the lake he could hear JJ and the boys whooping away, and cheering for blood. He figured he’d made a bit of a mistake, that his plan wasn’t particularly well thought out – he certainly hadn’t planned on the horses bolting when the dynamite blast went off.

He cursed the unforgiving full moon, bathing light on him as he tried to duck down in the reeds on the lakeside. He stepped too close to the edge and cursed again as he felt his boot fill with water. A coyote called out, it sounded close, much closer than the typical coyote calls he’s heard out here. He was directly between it and the rest of the gang – if they were to look out toward it they’d almost certainly see him. Just a short distance away, amongst the rocks, Clay could see it lay on its side, howling away. “Come to me,” it seemed to say – calling out to Clay. He thought he was going crazy as he looked over at the fallen beast, compelled to go to its aid. He ducked his head out from the reeds to get a look across to the other side. JJ was on the move, coming round to the left with Quinn and ‘Hound Dog’ Howie. On the other side, closing in were Bill and Sam, the Carver twins – they’d spot him for sure, but the coyote kept on calling. Maybe madness had crept across him, but he had to go. As he crawled out of the reeds, dark cloud filled the sky, hiding the moon, throwing the plain into blackness.

Clay, keeping low, hurried across to where the coyote lay. His back leg was trapped in a noose, the hair worn away as it’d tried to struggle free. Clay picked at the knot in the rope, loosening it enough for the leg to pull free. The coyote turned to him, nodding its head as if to say ‘thank you’, before it departed, jumping high onto the rocks. From the other side, far away from where Clay now was a flurry of small stones fell down the side. JJ and the gang all looked up, and darted towards the spot, assuming that it was Clay that had caused the rock fall. All Clay had to do was keep his head down, and the gang had soon left him far behind.

The problem with Clay though, is that he’s the sort of chap that finds keeping his head down difficult, especially when he’s in the money. Albuquerque clearly wasn’t far enough from Eagle Nest for Clay to be safe from JJ, but as soon as he saw the advantages a bit of gold gave him, JJ slipped from his mind. Rumours of a stranger showing up, buying whatever he fancied didn’t take too long to spread, and the Carver twins got wind of it within a few weeks. They paid a little visit, keeping their distance, watching Clay, wanting to strike, but knowing that JJ would want to do it himself – after all, he had a hell of lump on the back of his head from the cave. When Sam told JJ he’d seen Clay in the saloon, a girl on each arm and a grin from ear to ear, he was madder than ever.

When the Black Gang are heading for town, people tend to find out, and get well out of the way. But for all of the money he had left Clay couldn’t buy protection. The sheriff was happy to take that money, but all it got him was a horse, and a promise not to tell them which way he’d gone. And when he had a gun in his face it didn’t take the sheriff long into the night to break that promise.

Clay found himself again cursing the skies. The cycle was complete, and again the fat moon bathed light upon him. JJ and his gang could be heard closing in behind. There was nowhere to hide. The sound of a shotgun blast momentarily proceeded the fall of his horse, and he found himself thrown onto the gravel. He barely had time to get to his feet before ‘Hound Dog’ Howie was upon him. Clay looked up as Howie spat tobacco into his face, filthy stinking brown muck, but he didn’t have the guts to wipe it off. JJ arrived on the scene and swung a boot into his face, knocking him out cold.

He woke to find his arms tied firmly behind his back, and another rope around his neck. Quinn had hold of the other end and threw it over the branches of a solitary tree. As the men lined up to take hold of the rope the call of a coyote pierced the air.
“Pull!” called JJ, but as Clay’s feet rose from the ground Howie was send sprawling to the floor. Quinn and the Carver’s let go, and turned towards Howie, who was rolling around, trying to hold a coyote off himself. JJ took his shotgun and blasted at the animal. Somehow the shot missed him altogether, but tore through three of Howie’s fingers on the other side. His grip on the coyote slipped and its teeth sunk into his throat. The animal stood and growled at JJ and his gang, blood dripping from his open mouth. Clay started to pull at the rope round his neck, giving himself more air. Again a thick cloud covered the moon, and the coyote disappeared from view. The Carvers panicked, heading back towards their horses, but as Bill tried to mount, the coyote took him out. Sam stood still, hoping to avoid detection, but as soon as Bill’s cry turned into a fading gurgle the coyote was upon him too, sinking sharp teeth into his flesh. Quinn fired a shot that took a chunk out of the side of Sam’s face – the coyote again nowhere to be seen.

JJ backed up towards the tree, grabbing Clay on the way, pulling the rope back tightly around his neck as he used him as a shield. Quinn came towards them.
“Stay right there,” said JJ, raising his shotgun.
Quinn froze, “Hey, what you doing?”
“You’re bait,” said JJ with a grin as he kept the gun poised on Quinn.
He didn’t have to wait long for the coyote to strike. Quinn was so focussed on the shotgun pointing at him that he didn’t even see it coming, striking hard and fast, slicing through his gut and pulling intestine out onto the ground.
JJ fired blindly, the shot going over both Quinn and the coyote.
Cursing he threw the gun down.
“Well I’m not letting that stinking animal take you out, old friend – you’re all mine,” he said to Clay, placing a foot on his back and pushing him away as he pulled on the rope.
“Thieving son of a no good…” he started before he felt a fierce pain in the back of his leg as the coyote took out a chunk of his calf. He let go of the rope, leaving Clay to slump forward, struggling for breath. JJ pulled a knife from his belt and crawled toward Clay. As he raised the knife the coyote pounced again, onto his back, taking his neck between his teeth and twisting it with his powerful jaws. JJ slumped forward as the cloud across the moon cleared. Clay tried to get a finger between the rope and his neck, but weak and dizzying, found the necessary composure lacking. The coyote closed on him, the stink of fresh blood on his breath an almost overpowering stench as he felt himself fading. The coyote’s fangs closed around Clay’s neck, and suddenly he felt his breath coming back to him. With a couple of short yips the coyote turned to leave. As Clay pulled the rope fully free from his neck he noticed the rope-burn on the animals back leg as it left.
Fri 20/10/06 at 15:50
Regular
"Laughingstock"
Posts: 3,522
Read this last night. Cool little tale - nicely played out.
Thu 26/10/06 at 21:05
Regular
"Author of Pain"
Posts: 395
A short story Western has cool written all over it. This was great.
Sun 29/10/06 at 13:18
Regular
Posts: 19,415
Congrats on the GAD, a really good story Meka
Sun 29/10/06 at 14:23
Regular
"not dead"
Posts: 11,145
Machie wrote:
> Congrats on the GAD, a really good story Meka

Awesome, I didn't even know until I read that!
Fri 03/11/06 at 11:24
Moderator
"possibly impossible"
Posts: 24,985
Nice western, don't usually get many western stories here!

One small thing I would say is that the story premise itself isn't really that original, but this is offset by the description and scene setting of the final part.
Sat 04/11/06 at 17:41
Regular
"Going nowhere fast"
Posts: 6,574
Nicely told as usual :)

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