《Dealing with Cowboys》


 Prologue and The Criminal

    Prologue


    How can I blame us? We have seen darkness take over our lives. I am not saying there aren¡¯t bad things in this world, but most of the time, we ignore the good around us. The goodness of people and the idea of hope seem to have disappeared from our minds. How can I blame us when we have seen darkness take over our lives, with people even cheering it on because they impersonate change? But in reality, it¡¯s just a regress to dark times. Fighting these forces has been hard and exhausting, with many giving up. This has been a fight with so many rollercoaster moments of success, but people quickly regress back.


    I am tired. I have nowhere to go and feel like I have nothing left for me here. The air feels so cold as it hits my face. I think it¡¯s colder since I stand on the bridge rail. I wish I could say that I am just here for the thrill of staring at the distance from the bridge to the water below. My fear was always holding me up. What if it hurts and I don¡¯t die instantly? What if I live and have to face them? The alcohol helped dispel the fear, and I am ready. Ready to finally be done with it all¡­


    ¡°So, taking the plunge into the unknown. How brave of you.¡± A voice from behind startled me, making me almost lose my balance¡ªwhich I somehow still had despite being drunk. A woman approached my side, looking neither concerned nor judgmental. ¡°What¡¯s stopping you? I wonder,¡± she said as she reached into her dark blue jacket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.


    ¡°At the moment, you are,¡± I said, looking from her back to the water. As I prepared to take the plunge, she spoke with a cigarette in her mouth. ¡°Would you let me tell you a secret? Since you¡¯re dying and I can¡¯t tell anyone but the dead.¡±


    The cold night wind hit my face again, and for some reason, I wanted to listen to this secret. She lit the cigarette with her silver lighter. As the flame rose, I saw her face. Her dark brown eyes had signs of exhaustion¡ªbags beneath them accompanied by pale skin. If it weren¡¯t for her makeup covering it, you¡¯d think she was dead. Unsure how to proceed, I sat on the railing rather than just standing. She regarded me for a second, showing neither surprise nor emotion. She overlooked the view of the city before she spoke. What she told me made little sense, even if I had been sober. All I could make out was a phrase: ¡°The Final Deal,¡± which she said in an ominous tone. After she spoke, there was a moment of silence; neither of us said anything until she started playing with the lighter.


    ¡°It seems that you calmed down. Interesting¡ªmany would hurl themselves after hearing that,¡± she said as she slowly approached me. I hadn¡¯t noticed how close she already was. She leaned into my face, examining me thoroughly.


    ¡°Amazing. You look just like her¡­ if she were a man,¡± she said as she leaned in and kissed me. Then she pulled back. ¡°But you¡¯re not. I want you to know that I¡¯m sorry, but I can¡¯t trust you.¡±


    She bit her wrist, and blood dripped from the wound. She then approached my mouth with her open wrist. I tried to move, but my body didn¡¯t respond.


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Just so you know, that kiss was more of a requirement than affection. The only way my paralytic works.¡± She forced her blood into my mouth. The warm blood¡¯s taste was unpleasant until it became sweet¡ªfamiliar.


    ¡°Hope the taste makes the next part less painful,¡± she said as I felt her hand behind my back. Then came the push.


    <h4>Weeks Later¡­</h4>


    <h5>The Criminal</h5>


    The deal was done, and Zack felt relieved. He had dreaded the job his boss assigned him¡ªnot because he feared dying, but because he feared failing. His fear of failure was always what drove him, and what stopped him. Stopped him from committing, stopped him from finishing school, and stopped him from finding another job. Dealing, in his view, was much easier and quicker to make a living. Easier, since for him, he could make money quickly, and on the plus side, he didn¡¯t really have a problem with the product.


    He learned that no amount of alcohol or drugs affected him in a good way. He only partook when necessary, but overall, he didn¡¯t like to be held up by other forces. The problem with the business was that it always involved working with other people. If you did a good enough job, someone would notice¡ªwhich could be good or bad.


    ¡°Quickly, we don¡¯t have all night,¡± Zack commanded, trying to hide his urgency.


    ¡°What¡¯s the big deal? We¡¯re good; the cops won¡¯t bother us here,¡± one of his men said.


    ¡°They¡¯re not who I¡¯m worried about.¡± Zack double-checked the contents of the cases.


    ¡°You don¡¯t really believe those rumors, do you? Those guys were just idiots who lost the shipment,¡± said another man.


    ¡°I knew those men, and they wouldn¡¯t just lose a shipment. Someone is going after us, so keep your eyes open,¡± Zack said, looking at his crew¡ªa group of ten men, enough to ensure a smooth delivery.


    As soon as they loaded the last case, the lights were cut off.


    ¡°What the¡­¡± one of the men muttered as he spotted a figure not so far from the warehouse. In the blink of an eye, the figure was on him. His scream was the last thing they heard before the four lookouts were down.


    Zack quickly took out his Beretta, and his men followed suit.


    ¡°Everyone to their cars¡ª¡± Before Zack could finish, a loud pop interrupted him.


    One of the men checked where the sound came from.


    ¡°Son of a bitch! Something popped the tire!¡± the man shouted. He saw something sticking out of the rubber. Before he could inspect further, loud pops came from the other tires. One by one, their cars were disabled.


    ¡°If you leave the crates and go, there will be no problem,¡± a voice with a Texan accent called from the shadows.


    Zack and his gang looked around but found no one.


    ¡°Come on out, you coward!¡± Zack yelled, scanning the darkness.


    ¡°Why do you demean yourself with hypocrisy? Oh, Zack, don¡¯t project,¡± the voice replied as a figure stepped into the light.


    A man with a long duster and a bandolier wrapped around his torso. A full cowboy get-up, with a blue bandana covering his mouth like one of those outlaws Zack had seen in Westerns. The cowboy¡¯s piercing eyes stared Zack and his gang down. Zack could barely make out his eyes beneath the shadow of his worn hat. His two revolvers remained holstered¡ªone on his hip, the other on the front of his waist.


    The tension in the air was palpable. Zack and his gang exchanged glances of disbelief.


    ¡°Who are you supposed to be?¡± Zack asked, keeping his attention on the man.


    The cowboy kept his hand near his holsters. All the men felt tense. It was only a matter of time before someone made the first move.


    ¡°A dead joke!¡± one of Zack¡¯s men shouted before opening fire.


    Zack hesitated for a moment. Who was this man? Why did Zack feel like he was destined to lose?

 The Cowboy and The Boss

    The Cowboy


    I was not prepared to be this trained. It must be her doing¡ªor my doing. My head is still spinning at my circumstances; finding out that you can connect with your past incarnation is wild. The upside is that I inherit her skills and abilities, one being supernatural reflexes. That helped with being outnumbered and dodging all the gunfire. I immediately marked all their handguns and, with a quick draw, shot them out of their hands. One bullet for each gun since my six rounds were spent, and I quickly brought out my second revolver and kneecapped all six men.


    I don¡¯t like finishing off people¡ªwell, not me. I¡¯m not against crippling, especially men like Zack. I have been tailing him, and he was one mean son of a bitch. I don¡¯t mind people hustling¡ªwhen your means are limited, you turn to whatever helps. You can be a criminal, but it does not mean you have to be an asshole. Zack is the reason I believe this. He somehow finds time, apart from hustling for his boss, to beat his kid and wife in his off time.


    ¡°Fucking bastard!!¡± Zack yelled in pain while holding his knee.


    I holstered my revolvers and approached the vehicle with the crate. I hummed a Panic! at the Disco song as I walked past the goons. As I uncovered the crate, I could feel the miasma of the artifact.


    ¡°Oof, this one is an ugly one. You boys are lucky I stopped you,¡± I said as I reached into my duster for the blessed liquor.


    ¡°What are you doing? Do you know who you are fucking with?!¡± Zack said as he tried to get up.


    ¡°Why do all y¡¯all say that? I wouldn¡¯t do this otherwise,¡± I said as I poured the liquor on the crate. I then pulled a match from my matchbook and set the crate ablaze. As I turned, I could see Zack¡¯s face turn white.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, your boss will take it reasonably well. Unless he¡¯s not reasonable?¡± I said as I turned to leave.


    The Boss


    His name was Alejandro, and he was the power player in Los Angeles. He got shit done, as he liked to say. Everything was good¡ªnobody messed with him, and the cops didn¡¯t touch him because he was careful. All was good until tonight.


    ¡°Tell me again what happened,¡± Alejandro said as he looked at Zack, sprawled on the floor.


    ¡°As I said, boss, it was a cowboy¡­ Boss, please, let me see a doctor,¡± Zack coughed between his words.


    The boss responded with a sharp kick to Zack¡¯s ribs.


    ¡°Do you understand how important this is, pendejo? Huh? Do you know how much money we¡¯re going to lose, not to mention the reputation this ruins?! And one weirdo dressed as a cowboy took out seven of my men?!¡± Alejandro yelled, following his words with a kick to Zack¡¯s skull.


    His agitation didn¡¯t fade, even as he beat Zack.


    ¡°Take him to the Butcher. He better be thankful I still need him!¡± Alejandro commanded, pouring himself some whiskey from the nearby bar. Pedro and Alan, his right and left hands, watched in silence.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°If only I was there, boss. This wouldn¡¯t have happened,¡± Alan muttered as he picked Zack up.


    ¡°No, your task was more important.¡± Alejandro gestured to Pedro. ¡°Go rat hunting. There¡¯s no way the weirdo hit us without inside information. Put a bounty on the cowboy. I have a feeling he¡¯s going to be a problem, and I want to get ahead of it.¡±


    Alejandro took a sip of his whiskey. He wasn¡¯t ready to let go of his power.


    <hr>


    The Cowboy


    My late-night activities always have a downside. The night makes cops more vigilant, making it harder to get home. Then there¡¯s sneaking back into bed.


    I¡¯m 24, and yes, I still live with my parents. I¡¯m not afraid of them; I just don¡¯t like the questions. Where were you? Why so late? What are you doing with your life? Questions I don¡¯t even have answers for.


    Luckily, the dogs in the house knew better than to bark when I approached. The caramel-furred pit bull, Sisi, greeted me excitedly.


    ¡°Shh, keep it down, Sisi,¡± I whispered as I passed my chihuahua, Fresa¡ªthe one I was worried about since she was the loudest.


    I made it to bed, hiding my outfit and weapons in the false bottom of a drawer. My phone read close to 6 a.m., giving me barely three hours of sleep. I kept turning in bed until exhaustion finally took over.


    <hr>


    The dreams started like they always did¡ªin a meadow, lying down, watching the sky. But I was in a different body. My body. But it was a woman¡¯s.


    ¡°Cinder Winters! Where in blazes are you?!¡± a deep voice called.


    Cinder was terrified. She quickly rose from the grass. ¡°Yes, Daddy?¡± she said, gripping the sides of her dress.


    She was wearing one of those 19th-century dresses. I could feel her fear, her resignation¡ªshe knew this would never end. She would never escape this.


    Daddy¡¯s face was red with rage, his belt in his hand, its weight all too familiar.


    ¡°Why am I hearing from little Suzie¡¯s mother that she caught you kissing?!! There is no way, because my girl is a nice, God-fearing lady!¡± he roared before backhanding her, stopping just short of using his knuckles.


    ¡°Daddy!! Please stop! We weren¡¯t doing anything indecent!¡± Cinder cried, shielding herself with her hands. She was lying, but she could never admit that to her father. She could never tell him that kissing Suzie felt more real than kissing Joey, the farmhand.


    That would only bring more pain.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you lie to me, girl!!¡± he shouted before striking her with the belt.


    With every whip, the scene changed.


    She was in the mud, beaten by the butt of a rifle. Her attacker wore a gray Confederate uniform. Cinder countered, reaching for the hidden knife in her boot, dodging his next strike, and stabbing under his arm. She didn¡¯t stop¡ªher blade struck again and again until the final blow met his throat.


    The soldier collapsed, gurgling. Cinder caught her breath, scanning the ground for her revolver. Just a few inches away. She grabbed it and inspected it before turning back to the soldier. He was still clinging to life. His injuries were brutal.


    ¡°Please¡­ help me,¡± he croaked.


    Cinder chuckled bitterly. ¡°After the shit you pulled? Look, if you just wronged me, I¡¯d end your suffering.¡±


    She twirled the gun in her hand as she spoke, her tone shifting. ¡°But since you hurt and raped a whole free family just to get supplies¡­ Well, if hell exists, you¡¯re getting a head start.¡±


    She turned away, grabbing her hat and placing it on her head.


    Whistling, she called for her horse¡ªJoey. She had named him after her best friend, her first kiss. When Joey found out who she was, he took it in stride and stood by her side. From the time she fled her family to her journey after her father was killed by her mother, and then her mother¡¯s suicide shortly after, Joey had been there. The most loyal friend she had.


    They hung him in Pale Mountain for pleading guilty to killing a group of men. Important men. So important that their heinous crimes were dismissed.


    It should have been her in the noose.


    But Joey had told her, Run and never look back. Keep the past in the past, just look around you.


    His words didn¡¯t ease her guilt. He had been doing good. She had just been tagging along.


    I jolted awake. The dream still clung to me. My phone screen glowed¡ª6 a.m.


    It was going to be one of those days.

 The Loser

    I did not have long to think when my alarm went off at 6 AM.


    It¡¯s going to be one of those days, isn¡¯t it?


    I got ready for work, putting on my uniform and attaching my name tag.


    ¡°Sauel! You¡¯re going to be late. Hurry up!¡± Mom called from the kitchen.


    ¡°I¡¯m going,¡± I said, grabbing my backpack. For a second, I nearly forgot my disguise. I don¡¯t know why I chose this look¡ªit just feels right, yet out of place at the same time.


    I keep my revolvers in the cupboard. I don¡¯t like carrying them in my backpack; the last thing I need is getting pulled over and arrested for possession.


    I rushed to the door, but my dad stopped me.


    ¡°No se olvide. <Don¡¯t forget to pay the power bill. I already have a past-due notice. Your responsibility is the bills as long as you¡¯re living here,>¡± Dad said, watching TV from the couch.


    Dad always gave lectures. Every day. I dismissed his words with an "OK" as always.


    Traffic was bad in this goddamned city, and the drivers only added to my anxiety. A job is a job, but retail seemed less grueling than the others I had. They all paid the same shitty rate¡ªnever enough, never was.


    What was that?


    It kept happening more frequently since my connection to Cinder. She had only spoken once: You are me, and I am you.


    I was still grasping at straws. I couldn¡¯t find that woman who threw me that night. The more I thought about it, the blurrier my memory of her face became.


    ¡°Hey, Sauel! Are you listening?¡± my manager asked, his blue eyes staring down at me.


    ¡°Yes. Don¡¯t forget to promote the company¡¯s music subscription,¡± I said, shooting in the dark.


    ¡°So you were listening. Try not to look so distracted. I know it¡¯s hard for people like you.¡±


    I would react, but at this point, he knew what he was saying and kept doing it anyway. HR had already talked to him, but¡ªsurprise, surprise¡ªhe kept at it. There wasn¡¯t much I could do anymore, so I just took it and kept going.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    I wasn¡¯t particularly good at the job, but I tried my best. The store hours fit my new schedule well. My recent situation had made me more attentive to my surroundings. It felt like I had a sixth sense, like I knew what to do and how to do it.


    I didn¡¯t know why, but I felt that if I ignored it, something bad would happen.


    ¡°Hey, Sauel. Were you able to get the bottle for your mom?¡± Pam asked.


    Pam was one of my coworkers. She helped me out on the job and always gave good advice. She was your typical white girl, but somehow, she understood where we came from¡ªthe feeling of struggling to survive in this world.


    ¡°Yeah. Who knew blessed liquor would fire up Mom?¡± I said.


    We started greeting customers by the door. Being a greeter felt like a punishment. I guess my manager figured out who reported him. Pam, being my work best friend, was caught in the crossfire.


    ¡°Sorry for being stuck here,¡± I said.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare apologize. Bryan is the problem. He just refuses to grow up¡ªeven though he¡¯s pushing forty. Even Helen hates him, and she¡¯s been alive longer,¡± she responded.


    Leave it to Pam to point out details I missed.


    ¡°Have you heard about the open auditions happening for FUNimation? We may have a chance to get at least one project,¡± she said.


    That was one thing we had in common¡ªour aspirations to be full-time voice actors. If my parents knew, I¡¯d never hear the end of it. Something about wasting my time in college getting a degree and doing nothing with it.


    ¡°Sounds like a chance¡ªif we land something,¡± I said as I greeted a customer.


    ¡°What do you mean if? It¡¯s when we land a role,¡± she exclaimed.


    Pam was always the personification of positivity.


    ¡°Yes. When. Remember, you¡¯re paying for the trip to Vegas when we make it,¡± I joked.


    ¡°As if. The man treats the lady,¡± she said.


    ¡°Oh, does that mean Sharon is paying?¡± I shot back.


    ¡°Haha, Sharon would just make me pay for it. He said that when I make it, he¡¯ll be my arm candy for life. Anyway, it¡¯s a win-win. He can relax, and I don¡¯t feel on edge,¡± Pam said.


    Pam¡¯s boyfriend, Sharon, was a criminal journalist. Luckily, he was locally stationed, but L.A. had its dangers.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. He won¡¯t let anything stop him from being arm candy with all expenses paid,¡± I jested.


    A feeling gripped my spine¡ªa sensation both familiar and terrifying. I scanned the mall, searching like I always did. Then, I spotted it.


    A man in a red trench coat stood in the middle of the lower floor.


    Before I could yell Code Red, the man grabbed a passerby by the head and squeezed. Blood and viscera splattered onto the once-white floor.


    Bystanders close to the scene screamed but were quickly silenced by the man.


    Maybe it was my eyes, or maybe it was the distance, but I could swear he grew larger than a second ago.


    Before I could contemplate what to do, the man grabbed the floor map of the mall and hurled it in my direction.


    I shoved Pam out of the way and threw myself to the side.


    Debris crashed around me. I felt the impact in the air, the shockwave against my skin.


    Pain. Sharp. Unrelenting.


    Then¡ªdarkness.