FictionWestern
Outlawed Deception
By: Shadow Slayer 13
this is my attempt at an old west story. it contains double crossing, followed by more double crossing! i wrote it as a present for my dad for fathers day. please read and tell me what you think of it!
Rated: Fiction T - English - Western - Words: 3,227 - Reviews: 1 - Favs: 1 - Published: 6/13/2010 - Status: Complete - id: 2817455
Outlawed Deception 11 DJ Corisis
The doors to the saloon swung open in full force, a figure stepping through, being observed by all inside the bar.
"I'm looking for my friend," the darkly cast faced man said, his face obscured by the large brimmed cowhide hat protecting him from the rain outside. The bar had fallen silent as all waited for an answer to the mystery mans question.
"We got many friends and enemies in this town pal. Which are you?" a man in the corner asked, taking a swim of whisky.
"Well I reckon that all depends on how you view my character." The dark man said.
"Listen here; I'm the sheriff in this town. It's my duty to know who is in the wrong and who is in the right."
The dark man raised his head into the light and removed his hat, revealing his rugged face for all to see.
"I'm sure there are many who think me as a man in the wrong sheriff. Are you one?" the mystery man said, many people noticing a menacing whip coil at his hip.
"Samuel F. Flecher. You have been on the run from the law for quite some time." A silent whisper ran through the bar as the infamy of the man in the doorway became apparent.
"Like I said, I'm just here looking for my partner. You seen him?"
"Got some bad news for ya there Sam; Dan was hanged near half a year ago." The sheriff said, taking another drink of whisky.
"I'd be careful what you say there sheriff, my partner was always one to hold a grudge." Sam said with a toothy smile.
"You know what my job requires me to do Sam."
"You gunna try and take me to prison?" the outlaw asked, "That's a laugh riot. Get me a double shot of whisky there hon." He said to the bartender as he approached the counter, supporting himself with his elbow.
The sheriff stood up from his table in the corner and started to approach the wanted man.
"Now Sam, I'm giving you a chance to come quietly here. You're infamous throughout the entire West, wanted in more states and towns than few other wanted men still evading the law."
Sam smiled, and after taking a small drink of the glass of booze he had ordered, said,
"I've got no intentions of stoppin' here sheriff. I'm out to find my partner."
"He's dead Sam."
"It's been nice talkin' with ya sheriff. Maybe I'll see you around." Sam said. Then, all in an instant, he threw the glass of whisky in front of him, dousing the floor. He took out his whip, and cracked a snap directly over the whisky. Sparks flew from his custom made whip, and the alcohol immediately combusted, setting the saloon floor ablaze.
"Blasted outlaw." The sheriff said.
"Now you have a nice night sheriff." Sam said, replacing his hat on his head and tipping the brim to his enemy before slipping out of the door.
"The day that man thought to incorporate flint chips into a bull whip be cursed." The sheriff said, as he jumped the now growing fire and flew the saloon doors open. He looked into the bleary darkness of the rainy night and made out the sight and sounds of Sam galloping away on his horse. Pistol shots whizzed through the air, but Sam had ridden out of range of the sheriff.
Sam rode on through the night, searching for shelter, his motel room no longer an option. He found refuge under a large bramble of bushes in the hills. He removed his hat and slapped his knee with it to shake the water off. He built a small fire, cooking a small pot of hare stew with a rabbit he had shot earlier that day.
"I gotta find my partner girl," He said to his horse, "I'm a man of my word, and we had an agreement," He said, rolling himself a cigarette and leaning back against his rucksack, his hat pulled down over his face, "don't wake me unless it's something dang well important."
Sam later awoke new dawn to the sound of a panicking horse. He jumped up with a start with his pistol and whip at the ready. He found himself surrounded by a group of bandits, a smaller group attempting to make off with his horse.
"Hola señor," a smiling bandit said with a grin missing teeth, "we come for your horse."
"Ain't nobody who I would ever let touch my horse." Sam said, cracking his whip at a bandit attempting to grab for the reins, the bandit jumping back with pain.
"We do not want to shoot you señor."
"I wouldn't mind pulling the trigger." Sam said, pointing and cocking his pistol straight at the bandit leader, "nobody takes my horse and dam—" Sam was knocked cold by a pistol handle striking his head from behind.
Taking their chance, the bandits immediately left the scene, taking the horse and ransacking Sam's belongings for anything valuable, and then were gone in a flash.
Sam later awoke sprawled out on the ground, his head throbbing. Hey knew that the bandits were long gone, along with his horse.
He picked his hat out of a bush where a bandit had thrown it, and packed up his scattered belongings, setting out for the next town on foot.
He reached the road, hot and delirious from the blazing sun.
"Damn bandits stole all my water." He cursed to himself. He stared off into the distance, hoping to see a town on the horizon. What he saw to his good fortune, was a horse and carriage heading his way.
"Well I'll be…," he said to himself. He looked up the road and noticed a rest stop for horses. In hopes that the driver would brake to let the horse drink, he hid near the site, waiting for his chance to make his move.
As he had hoped, the carriage driver stopped to give the horse a rest. He watched for a moment to strike, and Sam knew his chance had come when he heard the driver say,
"Pardon me for a moment Miss. Rebecca. Business to tend to." The driver climbed down from the top of the carriage and awkwardly walked to a nearby sage brush. Sam took his chance.
He silently slinked to the opposite side of the carriage where the driver could not see, and opened the door. He was quick to clamp his hand over the mouth of the young woman riding in the carriage, so as to not raise an alarm for the driver.
Sam waited until the driver was seated back on his post, and after putting his finger to his lips for the girl to remain quiet and motioning to his pistol as an 'or else' condition, he leaned his torso out of the front window and put the gun to the drivers head.
"I apologize for no introduction, however I'm a bit stranded out here. And you're the one to be bringing me to the next town." Sam explained. The startled carriage driver slowly turned his head to see his attacker, and after seeing Sam's face, silently cursed under his breath and whispered to himself, "Samuel Flecher…"
"So we are on terms then?" Sam said with a grin. The driver could only nod his head, shaking slightly from fear. "Good then. Now not a word of this to a soul." He said, clapping the driver on the shoulder, and returning back to the carriage cabin.
He sat across from the young woman inside and asked with a wink, "How are you doing?"
"Are you going to shoot us Sam?" the woman asked shakily.
"Well, actually, I was hoping that you would try and convince me not to." Sam said deviously, tapping her dress covered knee with the barrel of his pistol.
The carriage pulled into the town, unnoticed by many of the people bustling about. The driver pounded on the carriage roof to signal to Sam that they had arrived at their destination.
"Come open the door." Sam instructed to the driver. The driver climbed down from his post, and around to the side of the carriage. He opened the door for his unwanted passenger and Sam stepped out the driver noticing his employer hurriedly replacing one of her dress sleeves in the background of the carriage behind Sam.
"Much obliged sir," Sam said, his hat obscuring his face from passersby. Sam left his forced transportation, walking over to the sheriff's office.
He opened the door, finding the small building empty, including the jail cells.
"Looks like nobody's home…" he said to himself, rummaging through the sheriff's desk. "These jail cells locks are always the same…" Sam heard the door open and voices become audible. Sam quickly looked around, and spying a dark closet in the corner, quickly leapt into it.
"So are you in town on business Ralph?" a voice said.
"Not this time sheriff. I'm here to meet my fiancé. She came in by carriage this morning." A second said. Sam smiled to himself in the dark closet, knowing who he was talking about.
"Ah, Miss. Rebecca. I heard of her arrival into town. When is the date set for marriage?"
"Day after tomorrow."
"Well I wish you luck in your future ventures my old friend. Now, if you will excuse me, I have some work to take care of." The sheriff said.
"Thank you sheriff. I can expect to see you there?"
"I wouldn't miss it." The two men shook hands, and the visitor left the sheriff to his work.
Sam watched from the dark closest as the sheriff sat down in his chair, taking out an ink pen and paper to write what looked like a letter. Quick as a flash, Sam cracked his whip and the sheriff's pistol was instantly in Sam's hands.
The sheriff was quick to reach for his pistol at the sound of the loud noise, but the whip had been faster, and the sheriff knew he had been beaten before he had known the fight had started.
"Sam Flecher… what are you doing in this town?" the sheriff asked.
"It's been a while Clyde…" Sam said, stepping out of the shadows, armed now with two pistols and his flint-whip.
"What is it you're hoping to accomplish with this Sam? The only quarrel I've got with you is what the law has got."
"I'm here looking for an old friend of mine; Dan, you heard of him?"
"Sam, Dan has been dead for quite some time now…"
Sam walked out of the shadows and leaned up against the wall, his pistol pointed at the sheriff, the sheriff's spinning around his finger, "oh come on now sheriff, you and I both know that that wasn't Dan at the end of that rope."
"He hasn't been seen since that day."
"He's a dangerous, wanted man, Clyde… As am I." Sam saw the sheriff try to open one of his desk drawers and pull something out, but he cracked his whip and lashed at the sheriff's hand. The sheriff gazed at Sam with both hate and pain.
"You best start talkin' Clyde. I know you know somethin' about that day." Sam threatened.
Clyde gulped and said, "A saloon burned down in the next town over I heard…"
"I've still got plenty more ways to start a fire here sheriff." Sam threatened, uncoiling his whip, the chips of flint visible in the bull hairs.
"I-it was a deal we made… in exchange for making it look like he was dead, he would stay out of the laws hair and society. He had grown tired of running, and we had grown tired of never being able to put him away for good…"
Sam smiled and said, "thank you for your help sheriff."
"You'll die tryin' to find him Sam. He's not your partner anymore."
Sam motioned with the pistol for the sheriff to get up and go into one of the jail cells. The sheriff, unwillingly, did as instructed, and Sam closed the door, locking it with the key he had fished out from the desk earlier.
"A man can't be afraid to die Clyde," Sam said, looking into the sheriff's fearful eyes through the jail bars, "it's time to re-evaluate your life if you are." Sam re-positioned his hat on his head and turned to walk out the door. He turned around once to say, "Are you afraid to die sheriff?" Sam flicked out his whip at an oil lantern sitting on the corner of the sheriff's desk, breaking it open and igniting the fluid inside, setting the desk ablaze.
"Maybe someone will notice the smoke and rescue you so you can make it to that wedding in two days. Be a shame for such a nice girl to be disappointed." Sam exited the sheriff's office, and turned the corner down the street, knowing where his partner must be.
Sam walked past the town's saloon, looking for a horse to take him to his destination. He choose a strong looking one from the small selection, and quickly released it from its post, jumping on its back and urging it to gallop out of town and towards the mountains.
After a full day of riding, Sam came upon a small cabin in the hills, shrouded by the trees; their old hide out. He stationed his horse, and walked to the door, fishing out the old key from around his neck.
Upon opening the door, he saw a woman cooking dinner over a stove in the corner. He stepped inside, removing his hat, and said,
"ma-am?" the woman turned around hurriedly and then calmed herself and said,
"Sam Flecher…" she put her hands on her hips and scolded him, "There are wanted posters of you hung throughout the West," She shook her head and called, "Dan, visitor for you!"
Sam listened, as heavy footsteps sounded from a backroom in the cabin, and watched as his lifelong partner in crime emerged, like a ghost from the graveyard.
"So you finally found me did you?" Dan said.
"I didn't believe for a second that you could have let yourself get caught." Sam said, smiling.
"Please, please, come in! My beautiful wife, Sally, was just about to serve supper." Dan's wife served both the men hearty bowls of the soup, the two of them catching up on what they have missed.
"Saw your horse the other day Sam… couple of bandits had her." Dan informed.
"Ran into a bit of trouble the other morning." Sam said, holding a grudge.
"Well she's tied up out back if you want her. I knew that the infamous Samuel Flecher wouldn't give his horse up to no man willingly."
"I appreciate it. How has life been treating you Dan?"
"It can be rough… money is hard to come by when the entire West thinks you dead."
"I can imagine… could I get some more of that soup?" Sam asked Dan's wife, turning around to face her.
"Sure thing hon." Sam turned back around to face his friend, Dan smiling. Then, before Sam had been served another bowl of soup, his mind black out from another blow to the head.
Sam awoke lying on a poor bed, surrounded by stone walls and jail bars.
"Welcome back Sam," He heard a voice call. He looked up, a pain still in his head, and saw the sheriff he had locked in the jail cell sitting at his desk, "ironic how things can work out sometimes isn't it?"
Sam looked around, confused. "Who hit me over the head?" he asked.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you about that," the sheriff said with a smile, "you see, your old partner knew that you would come looking for him eventually after his supposed hanging. So we struck a deal with him; if he brought you in for custody, double the reward on your head would be paid to him. You can imagine the amount of that money Sam… He and that wife of his take money wherever they can get it." The sheriff said, grinning even bigger now.
Sam only stared at the burned desk the sheriff was sitting at.
"Oh come now, you don't honestly think I wouldn't keep a spare cell key in my pocket do you? I opened the cell door the minute you stepped out Sam. It's time to face facts; you were beaten.
"At least I've got my hat still…" Sam said, picking it up off the floor and brushing it off, holding it in front of him.
The sheriff laughed and said, "I sure hope that you're not afraid to die Sam, because your hanging is set for the main event of Miss. Rebecca's wedding; besides the marriage of course."
"I ain't afraid to die sheriff." Sam said, with a toothy grin, revealing his poor dental work, "I certainly ain't afraid to do whatever it takes to live either."
Sam stood up, walking to the front of the cell and holding onto the iron bars.
"It has certainly been a pleasure doing business with you Clyde." Sam said, still smiling. He quickly turned around, and flung his hat at the only bared window in the cell. The moment it had become visible to an observer from the outside, the stone wall was ripped apart by an explosion, the force sending the hat careening back to Sam's hand and back onto his head, the sheriff covering his head with his arms, surprised by the sudden turn of events.
"I'll see ya around sheriff." Sam called, tipping his hat to the man.
The sheriff pulled out his pistol and began fired through the settling dust in the air, many bullets bouncing off of the cell bars and the pile of stone now in the room. Sam leapt over the pile of debris, and out into the open world, turning right into the alley near the sheriff's office, seeing Dan and his wife on two horses, one of them belonging to Sam.
"Got the money?" Sam asked Dan.
"Paid up the moment you landed in that cell." Dan said, patting four full bags of money strapped to his horse.
Sam quickly ran over to his horse, finding his pistol and whip hanging on the saddle, Dan's wife climbing off of his horse onto the same horse as her husband, saying, "sorry about your head there Sam."
"I'll forgive ya if I get that bowl of soup I asked for once were in the hills." Sam said jokingly to Sally.
"Everything's according to plan." Sam said.
"Then let's ride." Dan said, reining his horse, his wife holding onto him, and the two men riding off towards the hills, one man resurrected, the other yet to be outsmarted.