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Short Stories & Tall Tales
Tommy Typhoon - Part Three
The Life and Times of Thomas Sanderson
Andrew Stuchlik
I still find myself sufferin’ in the thoughts of what I coulda’ done differently. A cold chill runs right through me when I picture their faces. Surely, if anything, it’s my arrogance that’s got me here. If only I had been stronger, if only I was a better man than what I was, than who I have become, things would be different.
I know that the past is what’s passed, ain’t no changing’ that; but I can’t help but find myself there more times then not. I ain’t a good man, hard as I try, I jus’ can’t seem to be him. Thought I’d said goodbye to that beast, but every now an’ then, I can still see him staring back at me. He’s jus’ waitin’ for a time when my will is weak, and my heart is sufferin’, bidin’ his sweet time; waiting till he can surface again. Waiting for the time when he can take over again, waiting till I need him too.
He’s a part of me, I can feel him inside ‘a me, and I can’t seem to ever make him go away. I can see him in my reflection, I can feel him coursin’ through me. Maybe I ain’t strong enough, or maybe I jus’ ain’t ready. Either way, I can’t seem to let him go yet. He reminds me of where I came from, and where I’m headin’. For that I’m grateful, and for that, I’ll always hate myself. Why can’t I be strong enough? Why do I feel like I still need him? I go back and forth in my head, but I always find myself in the same place where I started from. Nowhere.
I drink back my whiskey, I light up another cigarette, and try to sigh away those thoughts for tonight. That’s enough for now, I tell myself. I rock my head back and forth like I am brinin’ myself back to where my feet sit.
It isn’t till now that I notice the man sittin’ next to me. He’s a lawman, I can smell it on him, without even looking at him. So I try to feel him out. What he’s here for, why he’s come. I try as I might, but I can’t. He’s sitting right next to me, but it feels like he’s miles away. Imagine that’s what it feels like sittin’ next to me too. Like you see him right next to you, but knowin’ you ain‘t even close to where he is.
“What brings you bout these parts?” I ask him. He keeps his gaze down at his drink and says:
“Lookin’ for a man.” He says.
“Lotsa men in the world.” I say to him.
“Spose your right.” He says.
“But I ain’t lookin’ for no ordinary man.”
“I am lookin’ for a man who only takes certain kinds of jobs.”
“A man who moves like he knows what’s comin’ before it ever does.”
“A man who is like the devil himself.”
“I am lookin’ for a man called: ‘Typhoon Tommy‘.”
“I’m sorry to tell you.” I start.
“But I heard that Typhoon Tommy is dead.”
“That’s too bad.” He says.
“Been all over the country lookin’ for him.”
“What would you want with a man like that, anyways?” I ask him.
“Only one thing a man like that’s good for.”
“Maybe that’s the reason I need him.” He says.
“Why would a marshal need a man like that?” I ask him.
“Is it that obvious?” He asks.
“Yeah, spose so.” I say.
“Well, I ain’t much of a marshal anymore.” He says.
“More like a shepherd whose lost his flock.”
I have to admit, at this point, I can’t help but feel interested. He isn’t like most of the others. He seems, well, a whole lot like someone else I know. Someone I am real familiar with. I turn and look at him. He doesn’t look like the sort that has known home for a long time. I can feel his melancholy like I was feelin’ it myself. It was in his face, the way he moved, and the way he looked. It just poured out of him. When I looked at him, the things I saw in him, I saw in myself too.
“Been lookin’ for Typhoon Tommy for a long time.” He says.
“It’s a shame to hear he’s gone.”
“Disapointin’ I guess.”
“Life has a way of doin’ that.” I say.
“What’s that?” He asks me.
“Disapointin‘ people.” I say.
“That it does, that it certainly does.” He says with a chuckle.
“They’re lookin’ for you, you know.” He says, the chuckle that I heard in his voice shrunk down to a solemn kinda statement rather than a question.
“Yeah.” I say.
“Figured it was just a matter of time before they caught up with me.”
“Specially since I ain’t really moved around too much here lately.”
“Guess I hoped they’d forgotten about me.” I say.
“You killed his brother.” He says.
“You really think he’d of forgotten that?”
“No.” I say.
“But I had kinda hoped.”
“You know how powerful he is.” The man responds.
“Yeah, I know.” I say.
“Well then you’re a fool.” He says.
“You shoulda known that Silas’ death would bring out the devil in him.” I just stare at my drink and don’t say nothin’.
“Ten years, they’ve been lookin’ for you.” He says. All I can think to myself is: Has it really been that long? Has ten years really gone by that quickly? Spose it has, jus’ kinda weird hearin’ it from someone else. Kinda has a way of makin’ everythin’ real.
“They know where you are now.” He says, and my heart skips a beat as the words come out of his mouth.
I look around the bar, but no one is here. I thought for a second and realized what time it was, and my heart falls back down from my throat. God forgive me. What have I brought on the people of this town, what about all the others. How many stories have I heard of his vengeance, of his unsatisfied fury? How many people have died? How many towns lost? God, tell me it’s not all my fault. Just tell me something, anything. It’s been so long since I heard your voice.
Was I justified? Was I right? Will you ever forgive me? So many people have died by my hand. So many more because of it. Whole families, whole towns, out of a rage that I gave him. Am I wrong for givin’ into my hatred, or wrong for begettin’ more?
A part of me hopes that he feels foolish to have searched so far, following rumors of where I was, and then to finally find me in the place that they started in. I have been here the best of five years now, why did it take them till now to catch up? If all the others could have found me, then why not them? Why did they jus’ find me now? Maybe it was cause there was so many others who claimed to be Typhoon Tommy. So many others who lusted for the fame in that name. Fools, all of ‘em. All of them dead fools now.
“Seems to me like your caught up in your head again.” He says to me, and I kinda sigh a little bit when he says it.
“Sounds like that’s not the first time you’ve heard that.”
“You sound just like Annie.” I say to him.
“I guess, bein’ blood and all, you two prolly think a lot alike, eh Bishop?.” He laughs when he hears me say his name.
“So you do remember me, then.” He says.
“Yeah, it took me a little while, but it has been so long.” I say. I shake his hand and pat an old friend on the shoulder.
“You got a lot older.” I say.
“I‘m not the only one, Typhoon Tommy.” He says.
“I don’t go by that name anymore.” I tell him.
“Far as I am concerned, he died with Annie.”
“I miss her too, Tommy.” He says, and involuntary tears filled my eyes till I thought for sure that they would burst.
“Sorry ‘bout your sister.” I say.
“Sorry I couldn’t protect her like I promised.” I finish, as the wells in my eyes grow just deep enough not to overflow.
“There always was something special about her.” He says.
“I know.” I say.
“And she always was a sucker for you, Tommy.” He says, and me and him can’t help but smile.
When he talks about her, it makes me happy. Not just to hear it from someone who knew her, but ‘cause it matches the way I remember her. It’s kinda reassuring in a way, to know that the way I remember her, is the same way she really was.
“I don’t blame you for what happened.” He tells me.
“If anyone in this world could of loved Annie more than I did, I spose it would of been you.”
“But I’m sure you know that already, Tommy.”
“Though, I want to tell you something, that I don’t think you know.”
“What’s that?” I ask him.
“I was there that night.” He says. My eyes close and my blood runs cold. I figured he’d be headin’ there sooner or later, but I’d always hoped that no one else saw that man, the demon that was there that night. Ain’t no man who that ever lived, that should’ve had to see what I did that night.
“Ain’t never seen nothin’ like that in all my life.” He tells me.
“You were like the devil himself, Tommy.”
“Almost didn’t recognize you.”
“Never thought a man could move like that.”
“Hard as I try, can’t seem to forget it neither.” I say.
“Try to tell myself that it wasn’t really me, the man I hoped I was.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” He tells me.
“If I had thought that was the real you, woulda never of let you marry my sister.”
“You didn’t give em nothin’ that wasn’t comin’.”
“It ain’t my place to say who lives and who dies.” I say.
“You’re right.” He says.
“But sometimes we can‘t always do the things we think is right.”
“Sometimes we are forced to become the devil himself.” I open my eyes, and turn to him and ask him:
“What are you doin’ here Bishop?”
“I need your help.” He says.
“Spose I don’t need to ask what for?” I ask him.
“I think you know, Tommy.”
“You’re the law, what’s stopping’ you from goin’ in there and just arrestin’ em?” I ask him.
“It’s Lloyd.” He says.
“He’s just got too much damn money and too many connections.”
“Can’t get nothin’ to stick.”
“He’s never even seen the inside of a court house.”
“What are you askin’ me to do, Bishop?” I ask him, but I already know what he’s gonna say.
“I don’t want nothin’ with Thomas Sanderson.” He says.
“I need Typhoon Tommy.”
“What made you think he’s still around?” I ask.
“I didn’t, I jus’ hoped.” He says.
“Let me ask you something, Bishop.” I say.
“Go ahead.” He answers.
“Why aren’t you a priest anymore?” I ask. I knew that this question would hit hard, but not nearly as hard as what he’d asked me to do. His voice goes silent, and his movements scarce.
“After I had heard what had happened to Annie and your boy, I came lookin’ for Silas.” He says.
“Same as you.”
“The church wasn’t too far away from his hideout.”
“I saw a man that night, that did everything I wished in my heart that I could do, in all honesty what I went there to try and do.”
“But I knew that I wasn’t strong enough, or at least I wasn’t then.”
“The man I saw there was able to do everythin’ that God shoulda done.”
“That’s what gave me my doubts.”
“Even though those men didn’t die by my hand, I wanted it every bit as badly as you.”
“Anyways, after Lloyd found out what had happened, he came lookin’ for you.”
“He burned down anything and everyone in his path.”
“But what made me give up on the monastery, was when I saw my church, the town, and everyone in it, all turned to ash.”
“After that, I took off my collar, and replaced it with a badge, and swore that I would make people like him pay.”
“Even if that meant I could never be a priest again.”
“I chased him for the better part of nine years, but couldn’t ever get nothin’ to stick.”
“He might as well of done it right in front of a judge; still, they just turned their heads.”
“Seven towns, Tommy.”
“Seven times where I failed myself, seven times I failed them.”
“I need someone to stand with me.”
“I need the man who only takes special kinds of jobs.”
“I need the demon I saw that night.”
“I need Typhoon Tommy.”
“Typhoon Tommy is dead.” I yell, as I slam my glass against the table. Bishop seems like he is startin’ to get angry with me.
“Why?” He asks me, almost yelling.
“Why will you help strangers, and not your own family?”
“That part of me is dead now, Bishop.” I say. The anger leaves his voice, ‘spose a part of him understands, but his voice grows cold nonetheless.
“Either way, Tommy, they’re coming for you.” He says. He gets up and starts to walk out the door noticeably angry, but stops and says:
“If you change your mind, meet me outside Abilene, I’ll be waitin’.” He walks out the door, and I find myself in a place I hoped I would never be again. But, too many times, it seems, I catch myself in that dark musty hell of a place. Somewhere I’ve been more times then I’d like to count. Maybe it was outta pity, or maybe outta sorrow, but now I’m there. I took those special jobs thinking I was riddin’ the earth of what inspired evil, but instead just became an instrument of it. I thought they would make me whole, but found myself missing more. I can’t do it again, not without losing what little of myself I still have left.
“I’m sorry Bishop.” I say. I know he can’t hear me, but I am sure he knows, or at least I hope he does. I am sorry but I have enough sins to repent. Fact of the matter is, I got more than any man should. Burdon’s no man should have to carry, crosses most others couldn’t lift. I’m sorry Bishop, but I can’t, not again.
I go back home and I lie awake most of the night and the next morning, wonderin’ if I should’ve done things differently than I had. A part of me felt real good, havin’ turned down what I had wanted so bad, and yet another part kinda wished I had been there to support him. Much as I tried, I still couldn’t sleep. So I just pace ’round my head, replayin’ everythin’ I’d seen, and everythin’ I’d done till the sunlight shined through my windows again.
Eight o’clock rings out and I decide that I need a few groceries from town. I lived a few miles outside, so it was kinda a chore to have to go in, even if it was stuff I needed. Money hadn’t been an issue for some time now. Spend enough years gunfightin’, and winnin’, and you’ll find that money won’t really matter any more. I get what I need from my stash, and start walkin’ into town.
Most of the time, I walk with my head down, don’t really mean to, but I do a lot of thinking when I’m by myself, so I guess it just sorta works out that way. Today, I start to do the same, but I can smell something today, and it ain’t what I am used to smellin’.
Usually I can smell bread and dust in the air, but today, there’s no bread, all I can smell is the same dust just the fresh bread has been replaced, replaced by smoke. Not only can I smell it, it takes over my senses and it becomes all I can smell, it’s all I can taste. The smell of the dust that is all around me, isn’t the same, not even diminished, just gone. I smell hate, I smell revenge, and it over takes me.
I get over the steep hill and I look out over the horizon, and I can see what used to be the landscape I’d known, the same landscape I’d seen for the past ten years or so, every piece of what I remembered, gone. In it’s place, just billowing towers of smoke. Thick gray pillars as far as the eye can see. I can’t hear any birds, I can’t hear nothin‘, nothin’ at all. Everythin’ is silent, not even the wind kicks up a howl.
My heart skips a beat and its like I am fightin’ for my next breath. God, tell me this is a dream. Tell me I am dreamin‘, and when I wake, everything will be as it was before. I stand there in shock, please God, tell me I died in my sleep and this is Hell. Tell me this is my torment, but that everything back on earth is in your hands. Tell me so I can hear it. Speak to me now, that’s all I ask. Tell me this isn’t real. Just tell me something, tell me anything.
My heart beat strikes back to normal and air once again fills my lungs. I start runnin’ like I have only once in my life, and turn the half an hour walk back to town into a run that takes less than ten minutes. When I get there, it’s all of my fears realized. Never in my worst of nightmares had I ever imagined anything like this would happen. Not here, Oh God, not here! Not to these people! A whole town full of buildings, full of living, breathing people, now all the same, crumbled and lifeless.
Their ash wrap and cover me. The flames that consume the town don’t burn my skin, but instead, every hope I’d had of being something better than I was, better than I am. My hands start to shake, and my body starts to move uncontrollably.
“GOD, NO!” I scream, as my hands clasp my face.
“GOD PLEASE HELP ME!” Tears pour down my face, and fall off my cheeks.
“PLEASE STOP THIS!”
“GOD, DON’T LET ME DO THIS AGAIN!” I scream the words as they come to my mouth. Terror fills my heart, and I fear what I know will surely come. My whole body is shaking as I scream for help. If never before, hear my plea’s now, Lord.
I feel something inside ’a me that’s been a long time imprisoned, a long time buried, now coming to the surface. I can see his eyes, I can feel his anger, and I know his pure unrelenting hatred. I have felt him but a few times before, but I recognize his stench. I know his fury, and I know his name.
What have they done? Do they even know? They’ve brought him back, and he knows no mercy. Truly he is a monster. He is the incarnation of wrath’s worst vision of revenge, and I can feel him pulsing in my veins. He’s whispering their names. He’s calling them forth, not for ambitions or possibilities, but realities, inevitabilities.
God forgive them for they know not what they’ve done. Forgive them and show them mercy, the mercy that he will not show. Give them forgiveness, the kind he can not give. Forgive them, my dear lord, cause they know not the beast they have unleashed. They have brought him back. The one, I thought by now, erased. After the last time, after the last job, surely I thought him dead. But he is back now. Tommy the Typhoon lives and breathes again.
I feel myself slippin’ away, I feel myself givin’ into him. The one with all the answers, the one with the solution. The one who tells me that evil, like this, should not be allowed to live. In this, my weakest moment, I give in again. I believe his plea’s, I believe in his solution.
“Your God hides away, while I offer solution.” He tells me.
“Your God offers no relief, while I offer absolution.”
“Your God is speechless, while I am vocal.”
“Let me mend your pains.”
“Let me give you solutions.”
“Let no other man feel what malice you feel.”
“Let it die with them.”
I listen to his words, and I know his intentions. But his are the only ones spoken today. The only ones I can hear. I close my eyes, and wish for another option, but my hearts sees none. I am overcome, but then, in the instant that I give in, suddenly… nothing. No more pain, no more sorrow, they are replaced, and I don’t fight it. I am him, I feel it, I know it, and I don’t fight it.
Instead of fighting, instead of warring with it, I go home and prepare for what I know will surely come. I grab what I know that I’ll need. I grab somethin’ special for Bishop, something’ that will make him useful, and keep me alive. I grab enough ammunition for an army, out of a drawer in a chest, that I had hoped I would never open again, but after today, empty.
It doesn’t take me long to get to the outskirts of Abilene. Bishop is there waiting for me. He knew what they’d do to get to me. They think they’ve caused me to suffer, they don’t know the meanin’ of the word. They have no idea what it means to suffer, but don’t worry, I’ll introduce the two.
“Nice to see you again, Tommy.” Bishop tells me. I don’t say anythin’ to that, I just load my gun with named rounds. Bishop looks at me, then at the handgun I’m holding and says:
“What the hell is that?”
“It a gun.” I say.
“Ain’t never seen no gun like that before.” He says.
“It holds twelve rounds, and it packs a little more punch with each bullet…” I say. He laughs, and says:
“Forgot you used to be a smith.”
“Got something’ for you too.” I say. I walk over to my horse, and pull out a rifle from my saddlebag. I hand it to him, and it’s obvious he is surprised.
“Its heavy.” He says.
“Didn’t make it for a woman to shoot.” I say.
“Besides, I heard you were good with a rifle.”
“Heard ain’t no man lived after Bishop Cross has him in his sights.” He rolls his eyes, knowin’ I’d heard the stories ‘bout him. Nicknames and legends aren’t what make a man, but they do seem to follow them everywhere they go; sometimes, even before they get there. Legends and myths are usually exaggerations, but every once and a while, they can be mostly true, mostly.
“It’s still heavy.” He says.
“Well, this is a special sort a rifle.” I say.
“Ain’t no good to me, if you can only kill one man with each bullet.” I tell him.
He laughs, thinking I was probably kidding. But I wasn’t kidding, and if there ever was a tool to do so, they were sittin’ in my holster’s, and in Bishop’s hands.
It’s like Bishop said, I used to be a smith, and I was good at it too, but I found something that made me more money. Kinda greedy I guess, but in all honesty, I just kinda fell into gunfightin‘, but if I hadn’t become a fighter, never would’a met Annie. She was the best thing I ever had in my life, and my son, the best thing we ever did together. So I don’t regret it a day in my life.
Bishop dismounts and starts to head down with me, but I say:
“I am going to need for you to stay up here.” I say to Bishop.
“What good am I going to be from up here?” He asks.
“I need you to go up on that hill over there, and give me cover.” I say.
“That must be at least two thousand yards away.” He says.
“What’s your point?” I ask him. He sighs, and inspects his gun. He checks out the bolt action on it, and looks down the end of the barrel, and then finally, through the scope I had personally made and mounted.
“How accurate is it?” He asks me. I just look at him, and he looks through it again.
“As accurate as I could make it.” I say.
“Spose that says a lot, coming from you.” He says, as he cocks it back.
“Listen, I’m sure they got sharpshooters.” I say.
“I need you to take them out, and give me as much ground support as you can.”
“There must be fifty men standing outside that building!” He says.
“And…” I interrupt.
“I can’t kill any of them, unless you take down the snipers first.”
“Alright, Tommy.” He says.
“I’ll do what I can.”
“That’s all I can ask.” I tell him.
I start walking down the hill, and towards the men standing below it. I’m calm, and ready for what’s to come. My mind is blank, and my senses tuned. Surely they know not what they’ve done. They have brought something dark upon their doorsteps, and I am to be his hand.
A fear washes over me, as I feel it comin’ back, the darkness. I feel a panic, like I am underwater, and I can’t find air. It makes me choke, and tears run down my face. I never get used to this, this feelin’ of bein’ taken over. All I can do is pray, as it leads my hands again. All feelin’, all emotion go silent, everythin’ that could convince you that I was, at one time, human, were now gone.
I finally get down to where I need to be. A crowd starts walking towards me slowly. I can see men off in the distance settin’ up their sights, their aim, on me. Lloyd steps onto the top of a balcony overlooking everything says:
“Nice to see you Tommy, I’ve been looking for you for so very long.” He says.
“You‘ve made me wait for this, for a considerable amount of time.”
“How many more towns would it have taken, how many more lives, I wonder, would I have to devastate before you gave yourself up?”
I didn’t say a word, I was beyond all words now, I was beyond all thought now.
“You killed my brother, and now you will pay for your sins.” He says.
“And what of your sins, Lloyd?” I say.
“How many people have you alone killed, in search for me?”
“Fifty, a hundred, two hundred?”
“How many LLOYD?” I yell.
“All expendable in the greater scheme of revenge.” He says with a with sickening, lustful, unremorseful smile.
“Has it made you suffer?
“Has it made you hurt to know that all of those people’s blood rests on your hands, and your’s alone “Tommy the Typhoon“?”
“You did hurt me.” I say.
“And I do suffer.”
“I would’a suffered regardless, but what you’ve done; what you’ve done is, unforgivable.”
“I’m afraid you’ve sold your soul, now I‘m here to collect.” I say, and with a gunshot from off in the distance, it starts. Lloyd runs back into the shelter of the building, waiting for what will come.
I hear Bishop’s shots rattle off, one by one. And one by one, I can see men in the distance fall down. My hands twitch with things to come, my muscles tighten. My guns jump out of their holster and into the grip of my hands. The men around me show arrogance in their faces, but are each met with a cold stare.
The shots from Bishop, put them on edge, but they don’t know where they are coming from, and they don’t know from whose side. They are uneasy, that is, until the first few men drop down dead. One gunshot, and three men fall. Seein’ a sight like that has a way of making any man scared.
“God, forgive me for what I have done.” I say as I walk through the crowd of men that drop to my feet with every gunshot, criss-crossing my arms back and forth, and not. Every pull of my finger more and more drop to my feet, more and more bleeding out the only thing they have left, whether from my hand or Bishop’s, as I pray:
“Forgive these men, Lord.”
“For they know not what they’ve done.” I continue walkin’ at a slow pace, makin’ sure ain’t no one behind me, my guns flaring like flames from the underworld, dropping men with every direction I look. They start running in fear of my eye’s gaze, but that doesn’t save them, nothing will, not anymore.
“Take them into your arms and make them warm, after I’ve left their bodies cold.”
I can’t be quite sure if it was even me sayin’ these things. It was like I was just watchin’ everythin’ happen, rather than bein’ there doing these things myself. But maybe that was just what made it easy.
“God give me patience, and give me compassion.”
“Give me the strength to see past what I have become.” I snap back for a second, and I look around me. All that remains of the men who once stood, was a blood stained soil, and a feast for the buzzards.
Bishop runs down and meets me at the entrance to the building. I motion up to a window on the top floor of the building, and he climbs up the terrace, and takes aim on the men standing inside, and I stand in front of the main door leading to the open center of the building.
Bullets rain out, shooting from the other side of the door. I take cover off to the side till the firing had ceased, till the reloading commenced. The double doors looked like Swiss cheese now, and I knew they would be reloadin’ for the next couple of seconds, the perfect time to make my entrance. Bishop waits for me, moves a few feet to the right, to get the right angle, ready to start at any moment.
“God, forgive me for the promise that I take back today.” I say, as I kick open the doors, and start releasing my pain, hatred on all who were inside. The brass casings of the rounds hit like a steady melody on the ground, callin’ out everyone in the room one by one, name by endless, meaningless name.
“Forgive me for the sins I am to commit.”
“Forgive your children whose lives I am to take.” I say walking deeper and deeper into the room.
“Lord, forgive me for my actions on this day.”
“And may you show me mercy, on my dying day, in spite of the lack in me now!”
The smell of gunpowder and smoke fill the room. A fog of both, blur my vision. Bishop comes down from the perch he was at, and starts to walk up to me. I can see he looks startled when he looks me in the face. Blood pours off my coat, down my arms, off the barrels of my guns, and off the edges of my clothes.
My face is turned down, and my hat shades it away in the poor light. Can’t imagine what I must look like to him right now. I’ve never actually seen for myself what I do look like when Tommy takes over. But I can imagine. It must be a lot like looking into the face of a monster. No emotion, no regret, nothing, just the cold dead eyes of a man, whose got nothin’ left. Like lookin’ at a demon wearing the clothes, the skin of a man.
I see a man outta the corner of my eye, he’s got a gun on Bishop, who is still in shock. Without hesitation, and without a thought, I push Bishop outta the way, and then he fires, and I fire. He falls down dead, and I get a big hurtin’ in my chest, just below the shoulder. I don’t move when I get hit, I don’t even make a sound.
Bishop snaps out of it when I shove him to the floor. He looks dazed for a second, and then comes back to reality.
“Good Lord, are you okay?” He asks me.
“Fine.” I say.
“You get hit?” He says.
“No, but it came close.” I lie to him. He looks me over, and I don’t make a single sign to tell him otherwise. My own blood mixing with the red that already drips from me.
“Lloyd’s the only one left.” He says.
“Let’s go finish this.”
“No.” I say, and he stops for a second.
“Preciate your help, but I’m going to finish this.” I say. Bishop’s eyes instantly protesting what I said.
“You think you’re the only one he’s done this to?” Bishop yells.
“Seven different towns, not including’ yours.”
“You can’t tell me to just go away, not now!” He screams!
“Lloyd will die here today, I can promise you that.” I say.
“But this is the Devil’s work.” I tell him.
“You don’t want this.”
“Go home, Bishop.”
“Go home to your monastery and forget all of this.” He stares at me hard, and I won’t show him my eyes, but I don’t think he’d recognize them anyway.
“Nurse your wounds, and become better then this.” I say. He seems angry now, but that melts away quickly, and I know he’ll listen. And he does, he turns and pats me on the shoulder and walks out of the buildin‘.
I walk up the stairs, and get ready to open the door, when a shot comes through it, that hits me in my chest again, this time, a few inches lower, and on the other side of the last one. It knocks me back a little, but doesn’t throw me off.
I kick open the door, and he pop’s off a few rounds as he scrambles around his desk, all of them miss, they miss so badly, that I‘m not really quite sure what he‘s shooting at. My arm’s are numb, and the guns are heavy, it’s throwing off my aim, but I’ve compensated for it now.
Lloyd reaches his arm over the desk and tries to shoot me again, but I move between the shots. It really isn’t that hard to do, if you can see where he’s aimin’. I move fast, and I throw the desk aside, and put my gun to his head. He tries to lift his hand, but I step on it, and kick the gun away. I step harder this time, and I can feel the bones break in his hand under my boot.
I have my gun against his head, but it moves up and down, coming in and out with my strength, but my determination steadies it again. I stare right at him, and I take off my hat, which till now, had hidden my face. A look of horror washes over him when he looks at me. He starts to yell, but my gaze doesn’t change, my expression, never faulting.
“It’s just like they say, you’re not a man at all!” He screams.
“You really are a demon!”
“Oh God!” He screams.
“God save me!”
“Even God cannot save you now.” I tell him, and with that I pull the trigger. Lloyd is now on the floor, on the wall, on the desk, and on the ceiling.
I let out a sigh as I collapse against the wall. All my blood starts flowing again, all at once, and I start to bleed. I’m bleeding alot, but I feel at peace. For the first time in a long time, I feel something other than just pain. Though, don’t get me wrong, I feel that too. Fact is, my chest feels like its about to cave in.
I start to feel cold as the sun is starting to set, and my vision starts to blur. So I sit here for a few more minutes, and I feel myself drifting in and out. Then, out of nowhere, I feel a warmth. I can feel a light., and my heart races when I see her: My Annie. She is lookin’ right at me, I can almost touch her. I see someone else movin’, and when it comes into focus I see my son is by her side.
“Oh, Annie I’ve missed you.” I say.
“Oh, and my sweet boy, how I’ve missed you too.”
“It makes me…”
“It makes me so happy to… to see you again.” My mouth is getting dry now. The tears stop rolling down my face, and I feel like I’m tired. More tired than I can remember being, so tired, I can’t stay awake. I feel at peace now. I feel like myself again, for the first time, in such a long time. Alive again, real again.
A feelin’ surges through my body and I feel like I’m movin’ now. I don’t know where I’m going or who’s taking me. I’m just so tired, so I’m gonna close my eyes. Hopefully when I get there, wherever, there is, I hope I see you too. I hope you’ll be there holding our son. I hope you’ll be standing there waiting for me, my love. Then, for the first time in too many years, I hear a voice, and I know that only you have a voice so sweet. My sweet Annie. Oh, God, I hope I’ll see you there. I love you, Annie, and I always will. Please be there. Please be there baby, you’re all I ever needed…. All I ever needed was… you… Please be there, please be there, Annie! I say as tears run down my face. Wait, I can’t hear your voice anymore honey. Please speak up, love. I can’t hear… I can’t… I blink once, and my eyes are heavier now, and I blink again, and it’s even harder. I blink again…
I love you Annie, and I always will.
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