Buck had fought to hold the town together, right up until the Water Hole caught fire. He threw his hat into the flames, then jerked the star off his shirt and flung it in after. Either he or the world had gone mad, but no matter which way he reckoned it, Buck could not tell which. He turned his back on the flames and left, idly wondering what had ever become of Adams and if any of this was his doing.
- start -
"You can't just leave, Buck!" The voice was Ray's. "After all this yer gonna walk?!"
Buck stopped in his tracks and turned around. "You fixin' to stop me, Ray?"
"Damn straight I am." The kid was standing tall, fists clenched. He took a step forward as he spoke, as if to prove his resolve.
Buck reached into his front pocket and pulled out a smoke. "And how do you plan on doin' that? You don't even have a gun, and I have two." With a flick of his wrist a match was lit, and he cupped his hand around the flickering flame to light the cigarette.
"You ain't got two, Buck."
The was a sharp crack, and a bit of dust erupted next to Buck's feet. His hand shot down to his holster, and found the kid had spoken truth.
"You son of a bitch." Buck took what he believe to be the most spiteful drag of his life.
"You gonna draw, you yellow belly coward?" The kid had the gun trained on him. Buck expected Ray's hand to be shaking, but it was calm. "Also, don't be callin' my mother a bitch."
What changed in you, boy? Buck was starting to give up on trying to understand this world. The more it seemed he had figured out, the harder the fall from grace always seemed to be. His hand hovered over his remaining pistol. It wasn't time - no, not yet. Never hurt to be prepared, though. "How'd you get my Revolver?"
"It was just before we got back to town." Ray answered. "You were distracted by all the commotion, and I got plum sick of not bein' able to protect myself."
"You had no intent on turnin' on me?" Buck was barely enjoying his smoke.
"Still don't" Ray's eyes never wavered. There was a fire in them - a reflection of the flames consuming the town.
"Got a funny way of showing it."
"Just tryin'a force your hand is all." Ray took another step forward.
Buck's hand moved a fraction of inch closer to his gun. "What would you have me do?"
"What you said you were gonna, you no-good Sheriff." Another step forward. "You remember what you said, Buck? It hasn't been long enough for you to forget. Only a couple a days."
"I remember, Ray." Buck wasn't lying, and the kid was right. "I'm know I said I'd fix this town, I know I said I'd get things back to normal. I said a lot of things - and I remember them all."
"Then why you tryn'a run?" The kid lowered his gun in exasperation.
Buck didn't miss his chance. In a flash his gun was drawn. He sent a round next to Ray's feet, which sent the kid scramblin'
"Now who's turnin' on who!" All of the composure Ray had been filled with was gone.
"You don't get to shoot at a man with his own gun!" Buck trained the still smoking barrel right between the kids eyes. Had it been anyone else he would have pulled without hesitation. "You should feel lucky I ain't killin' you on the spot."
"I ain't lucky, Buck." Ray lifted himself up off the ground, and dusted himself off. "I'm smart."
"I never told you that."
"I know, and I thank you for that." Ray threw the gun between them. "It was the only way to get ya to listen."
Buck took a last long drag of his smoke as he approached his now relinquished weapon. "Well, you certainly have my attention."
"Good. I'm sorry for shootin' at you."
"And I'm sorry for shootin' at you." Buck holstered both pistols and felt secure again. "Now, what's so important for me to hear?"
"Ain't the townsfolk still all made up in stone?"
"We don't know for sure, but its likely."
"Then what do we care about the whole place burnin' to the ground? Stone don't burn."
"Then why set this fire?"
"Distraction. They wanted you riled up, so that you wouldn't notice."
"What am I not noticin'?"
"That we are surrounded." Ray turned and pressed his back against the Sheriff's. "I don't know what they are but they don't look friendly."
Buck could see them, now that they had been pointed out. They were using the flames to hide their faces, but even obscured - there was something off about them. Their skin was white, and they all wore the same outfit. There were hundreds of them, too. None of them armed, though.
It might have been a trick of the light, but Buck was sure that none of them had mouths.
"Does that brain of yours have a plan?" He asked.
"I got a couple." The kid replied. "One thing. Can I have that gun back?"
"Yes, you may.And thank you fer askin' this time."
The crowd of mouthless intruders started to advance. They even moved strange. Inhuman. Without any sort of urgency - they simply started walking. They came from the alleys, and roads all around. They even came from the burning buildings, some engulfed themselves. The fire burned their clothes and flesh, blackening the stark white of both. Not a single one even flinched as their not-quite-faces melted.
The two of them were effectively surrounded, and becoming more so by the minute.
"You mentioned having a plan?" Buck asked as the mass drew closer.
"We're going to run."
"You really are brilliant, kid."
- end -
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