The Tin Cowboy

[ShastaTwist]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

Hey, Stephen King

[fido123]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

Damb...I should have plagiarized this for my story assignment :'(

[MalReynolds]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

I think your teacher might have gotten suspicious when you hand in an assignement thats close to 200 pages long... Especially because in the text, the word "Damn" is spelled correctly a few times.

[MalReynolds]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

I practically vaulted down the stairs, the interior hum of the light house machinery springing to life as I skipped the last set of stairs, opting to go over the railing instead. However, the railing broke under my hand and I lose all leverage that I had and began a painful fifteen foot freefall to the ground. There’s not much time to think when the ground is rushing up at you like that.

I hit the ground with a hard thud, but it didn’t even knock the wind out of me. There was an uncomfortable lump behind my back and head, and for a second I thought I had perhaps jarred one of my bones loose. I inhaled very sharply and rolled over, bracing myself for pain and finding none. Instead, I found that I had landed in my crumpled up damp jacket.

Smirking, I picked the jacket up, slinging it over my shoulder and bolting out the door. The forest, how it tried to hold me back, but it could not succeed in the least. I jumped over the twisting roots, ducked under the grabbing branches and managed to step on a fair number of the glowing mushrooms. The woods were deceptively long, but I wasn’t heading back to the beach – I was heading to the small cove. The trees cleared out and there was the small cliff that I had scaled before to gain entrance. I climbed down, careful on the slick rocks, and stepped inside.

It was dark. I couldn’t see in front of me, but I knew it was there.

I stepped into Haines’ boat and started the onboard, shooting out of the cove at a dangerous speed. But the sound, choppy and dangerous before had calmed down with my time on the Island. Instead of cutting a path directly back to Westing, I circled back around the Island to Wesley’s boat, grabbing the tow-line and pulling it into the water. I would have towed it all the way back to the city, but it slowed me down far too much. Instead, I maneuvered my boat carefully to the choppy white rocks off the side of the Island… I squinted, gunned the motor, and led my boat carefully through two narrow stones. Wesley’s boat gouged on one side and I let go of the tow line, circling back around and heading towards the city.

I felt damn near majestic, but panic was rising in my stomach. There was so much I should do – but what could I do? Benny was back on shore ‘taking care of things.’ I had stuck Ollie on the Island. My best bet would be to get my friends out of Westing, but the hooligans that hung out in the outskirts were too dangerous to try and mess with. I would have to find a place for them to hide.

I ran the motorboat up on shore, sending sand in every direction. I jumped out as it was still lurching forward, the motor still spitting sand as I cut a trail through the night past the Kinder. I knew immediately something wasn’t right as I was heading down Main Street – it had to be at least two in the morning, but I could hear voices. As I approached the school, the voices grew louder, and that’s when I saw the crowd. They were standing around something, hands over mouths, gossiping to one another in pajamas. The police were trying to push the crowd back, but they wouldn’t have it.

There was a small opening in the crowd that I gunned through until I hit the police tape. Three identical men standing shoulder to shoulder stopped me from going forward anymore.

I saw the body sprawled along the ground, face down in a pool of blood. My mind wouldn’t register what I was seeing at first. It refused to believe it. I stood there like an idiot, mouth wide, thinking, ‘Well, that’s unfortunate, isn’t it?’

It clicked with me first when I looked at the feet, the awkward combat boots with the pants tucked into them. The black shirt which had a large hole in the back which gave way to a small knife wound, to the goofy brown hair. I didn’t need to see anymore to know that he was wearing glasses and that the Kinder might not ever get their second teacher.

My stomach caught in my throat and I had to hold back a wave of dizziness. The police were still bossing people back, but now they were taking their night-sticks out, tapping them in their hands menacingly. I carefully, delicately extracted myself, stepping backwards out of the crowd, trying to get my bearings.

I saw them first – they were standing around. Tyler was holding Sam and Liza was crying into her hands. They had been away from the police the entire time, standing underneath one of the trees that lined the Quad. I expected to see a hand with a bloody knife steal out of the shadows and take one of them. It was stupid to be standing that close to darkness, but they had no idea. For all they knew, it was a random act of violence.

But I knew it wasn’t.

“Come on, guys,” I said walking up to them. “We have to get out of here.”

Liza threw herself against me, sobbing into my shirt. “Tim, George…”

“I know. But we can’t stay here.”

Tyler looked up. “What are you talking about? Look, they’re both tired. We need to get back to sleep.”

“The dorms aren’t safe right now,” I said. “And I don’t have time to explain. We have to disappear now.”

Sam pulled away from Tyler, glaring at me. “What? What did you do?”

“I – look, I can explain everything, but if you want to survive, you have to come with me right now. I don’t know how much worse this is going to get.” I paused. “But yeah, this is because of me. I’m sorry I came here. I’m sorry I met you all and I’m sorry you’re dragged into this. But we have to go, and we have to go now.”

There was a long pause. No one moved, no one ever dared to breathe. All I could think was, ‘Come on, come on, every second we waste is another opportunity for Benny to command himself or whatever gang he has to take us out.’

Liza stepped forward. “Then let’s not wait around. Tim wouldn’t lead us along like that.”

I looked down at her. She was still crying, tears rolling down her red cheeks.

“Where are we going?” Tyler asked.

“We have to find a place that’s going to be safe for the night.”

“And you said the dorms are off limits?”

I nodded.

“That doesn’t leave us with many choices at all, Tim. Most buildings go on lock down at eleven.”

I thought about my apartment and how I had assured Manny that I wouldn’t need to be getting back in tonight, not to bother warning me about when the doors locked and that I knew what I was getting myself in to.

Lies.

“The Chapel,” I said. “Ma and Pa, they’ll take us in. Tomorrow, we have to get out of Westing – at least, for a little while.”

Tyler nodded. “Yeah, well, we’ll see how we feel after we hear your story.”

I sighed. “Let’s just get moving.”

We pulled away from the scene, which was dying down. I tried not to look over at the prone body lying on the ground, but it was useless. I couldn’t help but stare at George. Maybe Marlene had been right when I had first met her under that strange moniker. Westing wouldn’t allow good to stay – but that was a cowards thought, I was only trying to comfort myself into thinking that I wasn’t solely responsible for George’s…

I tried explaining it in parts as we made our way down Main, careful not to attract too much attention. The gangs were out in full force, standing at the mouths of their alleyways and eyeing us as we went past. I told them about Haines and the Island, I told them about the history of Flash and Benny, the new Dean. I started telling them about Larson and the hand that I played in it – I was walking backwards, trying to address the group as they walked. I noticed the buildings spacing further and further apart.

And then they stopped in their tracks.

I hadn’t even gotten to the good part of the story.

Sam ran forward, past me, nearly knocking me to the ground. I wheeled around, trying to catch hold of her, but Tyler flew past me – this time, I fell. As I stood, I realized why they were running.

A light rain began to fall, wetting my hair and clothes. Liza walked past me, seemingly in a daze.

I stood, and was rooted in my spot.

Westing Chapel, the handmade building made of brick and mortar, love and fear, faith and hope was ablaze, orange tendrils of fire curling into the air and consuming the crooked cross that sat atop the steeple.

Sam was trying to get inside the building, and Tyler was holding her back. Liza was standing at the gate, staring at the graveyard, the single tree in the secluded area being eaten by the bright flames.

Sam stopped trying. She sank to the ground, Tyler catching her fall as she dissolved into a puddle of tears, sobbing uncontrollably, her breath coming in short gasps. She sounded like she was on the verge of hyperventilation.

I watched the flames dance on top of the steeple until I heard a loud crack. I ran forward, grabbing Tyler and Sam, dragging them back along the ground as the roof caved in. Tyler watched silently as one of the walls fell in on itself. Smoke shot into the air, a thick cloud that was quickly put down by the gaining rainfall. The front doors fell forward against the ground and for a brief second, I thought I saw Pa standing there, ready to welcome me in and hear what I had to say.

The fire burst through the front door, trying to escape the rain that was quickly drowning it. I was hunkered down with Sam and Tyler, staring at the building as the flames died down, slowly, very slowly, until they were nothing but smoke on a collapsed building. They had shrunk away like a small child would shy away from a loud noise.

Sam stopped crying – she had no more tears. Tyler held her against his chest, trying to soothe her, but she was no longer sad. She had the look on her face as if a great cosmic joke had been played on her and she had the means to extract and equally cosmic revenge.

We were all soaking wet and refusing to speak. The rain was coming down in thick torrents now, and the temperature was once again dropping. There was nothing we could do – all four walls were leaning on each other and rubble blocked the door.

I coughed. “We have to get out of here.”

“No,” Sam whispered.

“Whoever did this will be back to make sure we aren’t huddled around. They’re trying to take away any place we can hide. We can’t stay at the college – we can’t stay… Haines must have been following me for a while. Where can we go?”

“You can go to hell,” Sam said quietly.

“And you can stay here. Or we can get moving. Mourn for your parents later or be prepared to join them!” I didn’t want to shout, I didn’t want to draw attention or hurt feelings, but this was it. There was no time anymore – ours had run out the second I set foot in Westing.

She looked up at me, rising slowly. She was nothing but a shadow in the moonlight and rain, her form gliding over to me.

I braced myself. The slap stung, pins and needles doing a tango over my cheek, stopping to get a score from the judges before starting out again and trying to do better. I looked her in her bloodshot, red eyes.

“Got that all out of your system?”

Other cheek this time.

“Good. Now lets go,” I grabbed Sam’s arm. Tyler stood up, nodding – he may not have trusted me anymore, but I was making sense. I practically had to pry Liza away from the wrought iron gate that surrounded the building. She stared unblinking at the rubble.

“Come on,” I whispered in her ear. “It’s time to go.”

She slowly nodded. “Where are we going?”

I sighed as we began to walk. “I don’t know.”

Sam spotted the figures approaching first. She was about to cry something out when Tyler clamped his hand down over her mouth. We ran quietly to the side of a building and watched as they walked past, staring at the mound of rocks that used the be the church.

“Benny said to wait here.”

There was a grunt of agreement.

I motioned for Liza, Tyler and Sam to follow me to the far side of the building, to First street. We tried to be quiet, and it took all of us to pull Sam along. She was ready to jump from our enclave and tear those men asunder with her bare hands. I was ready to beat them to death with a rock. We were all mentally ready to take them, but physically – we were cold, we were weak, and we were down at our very core scared most of all.

And then the idea came. It ran through my head like a track sprinter that dropped his baton of a thought and didn’t come back for it.

“If we have to stay out here tonight, we’re going to freeze to death,” I said. They stopped, looking at me. “We have to find a place in doors.

“Does anyone mind if it’s…” I paused. “If it’s haunted?”

“What are you talking about,” Tyler said, his voice barely audible above the rain.

I didn’t want to lead them to the Island. Navigating the water would be deadly in the rain, in addition to the downed DEA agent that might just get up.

“I don’t know any places off the top of my head,” I said, “But I know someone who might.”

Liza spoke for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Her voice was barely a whisper, cracking as her words were pummeled by the onslaught of water.

“Dylan?” She asked.

And I nodded.

[FoJaR]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

oh man oh man oh man

[ShastaTwist]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

Storm

Something Bad's Going To Happen, I'm Onto You.

[fido123]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

I think your teacher might have gotten suspicious when you hand in an assignement thats close to 200 pages long... Especially because in the text, the word "Damn" is spelled correctly a few times.

OMFG I just realized it was spelt like that...i honestly thought it was damb but damn is much more logical now that I think about it!

[FoJaR]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

Ahahahahahah!!!!!

[MalReynolds]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

We were careful on the way up First. No one was in any mood to talk – they were all shivering and trying to conserve as much body heat as they could. The buildings all around us stood tall, towering and reaching into the sky, each window permeated with an ominous darkness that made our travel both safer from the gang that was out to get us and more dangerous for the gangs that saw us as weak.

We approached from the North side, across from the women’s dorms and administration building. I looked up to the forth floor window once we crossed into the Quad trying to see if Benny’s light was on, but the entire building was black. It was like we were in the middle of a massive blackout – which may just work in our favor, I decided. The more we can conceal ourselves, the better.

The police were gone from the front of the school and the front doors were locked. We tried the windows, but they were bolted shut. I circled around the building and counted the windows up – Dylan’s was cracked slightly. It figures he would want to sleep in the frigid air. I debated throwing pebbles up when a rock zoomed past me head and through the glass, sending pieces clattering to the sill and the ground around us.

I turned and looked at Sam, who was still tense in a followthrough position. She was breathing heavy.

“Can’t beat around the bush,” she said.

I nodded. There was a cry – we had certainly gotten his attention.

Dylan stumbled over to the window and looked out, trying to make our figures out in the darkness.

“Whose there?”

“It’s me, Dylan. I need your help.”

“Go die in a pit.”

Naturally. “Yeah, well, guess who I have with me?”

Tyler, Sam, and Liza sounded off on the grass below.

“What are you all doing out there! It’s freezing and someone got stabbed in front of the school!”

“Yeah, we know. It was George, Dylan. We need your help.”

“Jesus, it was George? I couldn’t get outside – the people were too thick and –“

“Stow it. Grab your gear, get your maps of the abandoned buildings, and meet us in the trees. Bring some kind of light, too.”

It was a few minutes before Dylan emerged from the front door. He had an umbrella and his backpack slung over his shoulder. In an odd instant, he had decided to wear a backwards baseball cap. He walked over to the trees that made the border of the Quad, holding his light out.

“Hey.”

I nodded. He handed me another flashlight.

“What the hell is going on, Tim?”

“Look – we’re in hot water. You are too. The way things are shaping up... Someone wants us all dead by the end of the night, Dylan. And we can’t stay outside. It’s freezing and we’re going to catch a quick death if we don’t get inside someplace with a fire soon,” I said, my teeth clattering together. “And all the buildings are on lockdown. We’re trying not to attract much attention, so... Breaking in somewhere would go very noticed. You said you had a list of places that were abandoned.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Just a few places here and there. Mainly places that were scheduled for destruction but had the funding pulled at the last second.”

“Find one of those... Quick,” I said, shivering.

He pulled a piece of paper out of his backpack and a small foldout plastic map. He started going over the sheet, looking at the names and the locations he had. All of them seemed to be far, far across town – we wouldn’t survive the walk.

“Look here,” he said. “There’s a burned out hotel on Fifth. Probably haunted – a lot of people died in there. There was some big to-do... It used to be a rat hole and some guy fixed it up, but during the opening ceremony, it caught fire and due to a technical fault, no one made it out. The Wilmouth – they were going to actually try rebuilding it again, but... I guess they decided against it. There’s no roof, but it’s fifteen stories tall. We can find a dry area in there.”

“Let’s go then.”

We began to walk, Dylan using the umbrella to the best of his advantage to shield Liza, letting the rest of us walk through the rain. After we passed Third, the power seemed to hum back on for half of a second before whining and dying down again. Lightning streaked across the sky and the clatter of thunder, like so many books falling over, quickly followed.

“How are we supposed to know the place?”

Dylan motioned ahead. “I can see it already.”

The building was lazily sketched on the horizon, the dimensions seeming to bend and break in the darkness and rainfall. The far left wall was reaching to the sky like a fallen angle and the rest of the building was on a downward slope like the roof had collapsed and taken part of the wall with it. With every flash of lightning, the building moved closer and the shape gained more definition. There was a tall gate surrounding the hotel – the once hotel, for once something is destroyed so entirely is it really what it used to be? – were slick and terrible to climb. I gave Dylan a leg up, and he stuck his hands through the fence helping us over one by one.

The yard out front had a non-working fountain. There was a down-slope entrance for people with wheel chairs and a main entrance that sat atop a veranda that overlooked the broken fountain. We walked up and tried the first door, but nothing happened.

“Come on,” he said. “There’s a trucking bay in the back for the restaurant.”

“How do you know that, Dylan?” I asked.

“I’ve been eyeing this place for a while.”

The building wasn’t difficult to navigate. There were strange doors that led to servants quarters, stairs that led to dark, concrete dead-ends, and non functioning lights at every turn. The building was of an odd make as well – there seemed to be more corners than natural for a building of this type – it seemed with every wall we wrapped around there was another to take its place, as if the building extended backwards into a deathly infinity.

The trucking bay had a ramp that led to a dark garage. The water from the rainfall was pooling the garage area, lifting small wooden boxes and other slight pieces of debris. There was one set of small concrete stairs that led to a metal door. Dylan walked up first, trying to the door – it swung open with a gust of wind. He pointed his flashlight inside.

“Well, come on then. What are you all waiting for?”

I sighed and walked behind him into the darkened room. My beam cut across the floor, revealing nothing but concrete and pipes sticking out at odd angles. There were chains draped from the ceiling that led to the real garage door – the one to let the trucks in, and dripping water from some of the ceiling pipes. Dylan took point, moving quickly but carefully through the maze until we found another set of stairs – this set, wooden, leading up to a wooden door.

“That should lead us to the main area,” he said. “Lobby and everything. We don’t have reservations, but I think we can find a room,” he smirked.

He moved up the creaking stairs and they seemed to sway under his weight. When he approached the door, he touched the handle and pushed – nothing.

“It’s locked. We can make camp down here,” he suggested.

“Oh, and what should we burn for fire? Those wet boxes out there? Maybe your soaked back-pack?”

Dylan walked down the stairs. “I don’t know what else to tell you. I can’t –“

I didn’t let him finish. ‘I can’t,’ was not something I wanted to hear that particular moment. I kept as much momentum as I could as I ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time – and I realized that didn’t look like they were moving. They were moving with every step that I took. I hit the door hard with my shoulder, but instead of the door flying open, the lock stood strong. Instead, I burst through the rotten wood onto the carpeted floor behind me.

“I’m okay,” I called, picking myself up. “Be careful on the stairs. One at a time... They’re not stable.”

Liza went first, very slowly. She was shaking because she could feel them move under her as well. She reached the top and stuck out her hand, which I took and pulled her through the odd hole in the door.

“Sam next!”

Sam didn’t even try to play it safe. She trundled up the stairs, eyes on the ground, until she was at the top. She refused to take my hand, instead helping herself through the door.

“Come on, Dylan.”

Dylan moved too slowly. I could hear the wood buckling under his weight – he hadn’t noticed it before, and now was moving at the speed of a man who was terrified of heights and falling onto a broken set of rusty pipes.

His foot shot through the wood on the last step. I reached out to grab him, his leg sinking further and further down, causing a split in the wood, but I couldn’t reach him through the door. Before I knew what was happening, Dylan burst through the door. In his place was Tyler, who had sprinted up the stairs and given him a hard push.

The stairs were no longer creaking. They were moaning a sad swan song as they pulled away from the wall. Tyler gripped the railing, smiling sardonically, as the stairs began to tumble.

I kicked the door where the lock was, and it swung open. Tyler reached out and grabbed the swinging fragment of door, holding onto it for dear life as the stairs disappeared from under him. But that wasn’t enough – the door began to peel from the wall. Dylan threw out the end of his baseball bat, which Tyler grabbed, and bracing ourselves against the door, we pulled him up.

“I coulda done that myself,” he said, gasping.

“Oh, shut up,” I smirked.

We turned to the lobby – through the front door, we could see the fountain slowly filling with rain water. We turned our attention to the stairs, which led upwards and split in two directions.

“Come on, let’s find something to burn,” I said, trembling.

We made our way up the velvet carpet to the landing, and took the right set of stairs. It led to a walkway which hooked to the left set of stairs, leaving only one door to go through.

That’s when my flashlight died. Dylan took point again, and we made our way through the unlocked door. It was cold walking down the hallway - the kind of cold that sticks to your skin. I could feel it slowly peel off in tendrils, falling to the floor behind me as I walked further down into the belly of the building. We reached the first room – room one, but found it locked. We continued down, shivering, until we reached room seven. The door was open and inside, we found a wooden bed frame.

Tyler and I set to work busting it up and putting the pieces in the middle of the floor. Without hesitation, Tyler threw a lit match on the pieces, which were resting on the metal frame-work that made our fire-ring.

It felt amazing, the heat licking against my skin and almost instantly warming us.

Exhaustion overtook me and I could see in the face of Tyler, Sam and Liza that they were the same. Dylan stood at the door, looking alert. He turned back to us.

“You all get some sleep. I’ll keep an eye out,” he said.

I pulled Liza close to me, as Tyler did with Sam, and we fell asleep.

-

When we awoke, the fire was nothing but ashes. I was dry, and very awake. Dylan was lying next to me – somewhere in the mere hours we had all been slumbering, he decided to take a little nap.

But what worried me most where the eight other pairs of eyes that were on us, staring in from the hallway. My first thought was the gang, the homely bunch that were staking out the church. Maybe they had found us. But their breathing was irregular. I shook Liza very lightly.

“Don’t yell,” I said. “Don’t scream. We’re not alone in here.”

I turned next to me. Dylan was lying across the room, and between him and me were five people dressed in ragged clothes, asleep, heads pointed towards the fire. Their faces were grimy – no, a bathtub get grimy when you don’t wash it for a week. They were filthy. Their skin color was obscured under the layers of dirt caked on their faces.

Dylan bolted up. His natural reaction was to yell.

How polite. We were in a space that we didn’t own, and Dylan decided to give our nice hosts a rude awakening.

Sam and Tyler woke up. Tyler clamped his hand down over Sam’s mouth as the shapes that surrounded us on the floor began to stir from their peaceful respite. I slowly stood, dragging Liza up with me, trying to back my way over to the door and tripping over a man who had made his bed directly behind me. I stumbled into the wall, all eyes from the hallway on me.

“We have to get out of here, now,” I said.

Their eyes weren’t normal. Their pupils were dilated, the veins in their eyes an icy blue color.

Dylan tried to walk out of the room first, trying to brush past them as if nothing were wrong. And that’s exactly what set them off.

As if they shared the same mind, they all growled at the same time. I pushed Dylan out of the way to take the first blow to my face. I fell backwards onto the ground, out into the hallway.

“Dylan, get them out of here. Run,” I said, climbing to my feet.

The shapes in the room got up and for a second I thought Tyler and Sam might be lost, but they burst out. The hallway behind us back towards the stairs were empty. The only thing standing between Liza, Tyler, Sam, Dylan and fifty angry, triggered Flash addicts was myself.

“RUN!” I shouted.

They all came down upon me at once. I tried to fight them, punching blindly as the shadow swept me up and slammed me against the ground. I watched through the addicts legs as my friends stood there, rooted in their spots as I was pummeled.

“RUN!” I repeated. There was more hesitance, but they moved quickly down the hallway towards the stairs.

In the frenzy, I managed to get back up, shoving some of them over. I kicked wildly into the crowd, hoping to hit something – anything, but one of them grabbed my foot and shoved me backwards. Their fingers clawed at my skin, their fists came down on my arms, legs and chests, but I couldn’t give up now – not until I was sure they were safe and away. Grabbing one of their arms, I traded places with them, throwing him to the ground where seconds before, I had lain. The fists rained down upon him quickly, and I managed to get a few cheap shots in here and there before I was forced against the wall.

One of them had a wooden bed post, the end charred from the fire in the night. It made a perfect point – as one of them held me against the wall, he ran forward. I tried to kick, I tried to break free, but their grip was terrible. Nothing but pent up aggression, hatred, and numbness... They were unstoppable.

All I could do was close my eyes and wait for the point to hit me in the neck. I waited, I stopped breathing, when the hands let go of me. I felt them pull away, and I heard a very soft thudding noise.

For a second, I thought the floor had been pulled out from under me.

When I opened my eyes, I saw Dylan swinging his bat wildly down upon the man who had the spike, swinging up to catch someone behind him.

“Come on,” he called out. “Don’t let me do all the work!”

I hunched down I the frenzy and picked the spike up, swinging it like the bat, connecting with as many things as I could – hand, arm, leg, face, wall, floor – I was swinging in nothing but a blind rage. The sound of bodies hitting the floor was insurmountable... But there was enough space for me to get on the other side of the hall. I stood there with Dylan, five bodies on the floor separating us from the rest of the group, which looked to number forty or fifty. I turned the spike over in my hand, driving it into the ground, an act of defiance that dared them to cross. They seemed to hesitate, and that was all we needed.

I grabbed Dylan by the shoulder, turned us around, and we ran as fast as we could to the stairs.

[FoJaR]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

oooooh

[ShastaTwist]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

OMFG I just realized it was spelt like that...i honestly thought it was damb but damn is much more logical now that I think about it!

That's embarrassing.

[MalReynolds]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

Dylan and I ran down the carpet towards the front door which was now swinging open.

“We managed to get it open like that. It was bolted from the inside,” he said. “They should be waiting by the fountain, under the balcony.”

“Why did you come back for me?” I asked as we made quick work of the stairs.

“I don’t know. I could have let you die,” he said, “But I don’t think Liza would have liked that too much.”

I smiled as we hit the landing, running towards the open door. I saw Liza, Sam and Tyler standing there, looking dead ahead at us.

Dylan and I ran out quickly, trying to throw the front door closed behind us, but it was stuck open. The morning sun was barely breaking out from its shackles behind the buildings and beach heads, its long snaking arms of orange breaching the clouds.

I watched as Dylan ran ahead, dropping his bag as the figure rounded the corner. He passed by the columns, a dark shadow, until he was behind us. He was moving too fast, but I didn’t dare move, because I saw the gun first.

Haines was standing in front of the building, in front of the doors. He was glaring at me, his eyes burning bright.

I stepped forward quickly, trying to block his shot, but he didn’t shoot. He kept his gun out, but instead, he brushed past me very quickly to the rest of the group. Dylan stepped up next, but Haines knocked him to the ground. Liza braced herself for impact, but Ollie moved right past until he was standing less than ten feet from Sam.

He hadn’t been glaring at me. He’s been glaring at her.

He reached up and pulled his hat off, sliding it down his coat to his pocket. He let his collar down.

“Oh, Jesus,” she cried out. “Oh my God.”

“It’s me,” he said calmly.

“Haines! What are you doing!” I called out from behind.

“Can it, kid.”

“Tim, that’s... That’s Mark,” Sam gasped.

“Mark... Rice?”

Ollie – Mark turned his face slightly, smiling. “I used to be. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, Sam. I thought you’d get out of here like you said you would, back when you were young... This is a rat trap. You shouldn’t have stayed here.”

“Who are you,” she asked. “Mark... Where did you go?”

He sighed, letting his arm down. “I wanted to be something other than a choir boy. I wanted to be a man of means, or at least a noble man... One that you would have been proud of marrying.”

“That didn’t matter to me! Why didn’t you listen?”

“You deserved better than me...”

Tyler was staring at both of them, back and forth as they spoke. He was nodding along, arms folded over his chest just like he knew the score.

“But that’s over now,” he said, raising his gun back up. “I’m sorry. There’s too much involved in this right now to let something get in the way.”

“I am too,” Sam whispered. “We could have been happy together. Mark -”

“No. Mark died a long time ago,” he said, pulling the slide back on the gun.

I don’t know what came over me. It felt like hot blood was coursing through all my veins, red hot and burning. I itched on the inside. I was clawing myself trying to break free of the feeling, but I couldn’t. My breaths came out in short gasps, beads of sweat springing up all over my face despite the cold wind.

The bat was in my hand. My feet were silent as I ran forward, raising the bat and bringing it down on his arm, which after a loud snapping noise, fell dead at his side, the gun tumbling to the ground. His eyes bulged out and he began to scream, stumbling, kneeling down and trying to grab at the gun with his other hand.

I swung the bat against his chest and he stumbled backwards –

Into the open arms of the addicts who had broken free of their second story prison. They grabbed at him, his shoulders growing more and more arms as he began to scream. The hands pulled at his clothes, tearing his coat off, and he tripped forward. A hand clamped down on his ankle and he stared up at us as they began to pull him back.

“Run!” I yelled.

I picked up the gun, turning back to Haines.

“Good luck,” I said. “See you in another life.”

I tossed the gun at him. It slid, and he picked it up with his good hand. I rolled the bat over, and he clutched it to his chest as he was pulled into the middle of the throng. I heard gunshots and saw the bursts of red fly up from the group, but there were too many of them and not enough bullets.

Like a coward, I turned and ran, my blood now ice cold. The gunshots continued as I ran to catch up with Liza, Dylan, Tyler and Sam, and when they stopped... That’s when the screaming began again.

-

The doors to my complex opened at eight on the dot. I took them upstairs to my empty apartment, and we just sat, watching the door. Tyler and I took turns standing beside it in case anyone decided to try and come in that wasn’t welcome, but after a few hours, we began to relax a little.

Everyone was filthy. We took turns taking showers – the water pressure perfect – and drying off as best we could with some of my clothes. We didn’t dare leave the apartment... The sun went down again, and without a word, we began to fall asleep on the hardwood flooring.

-

The next morning was no better. Everyone was still silent, Tyler eyeing Sam with a look of regret on his face. I walked over and opened the windows – it was getting warmer out now.

That’s when there was the knock on the door.

I opened it and stood face to face with a plainclothes officer.

He proceeded to explain to me that there was a police officer killed two blocks away at a burned out hotel and that he suspected foul play – particularly because he found a wallet at the scene. I made the mistake of grabbing for it like I owned it – I did own it, and it must have fallen out in one of the struggles.

That’s when the officer smiled. He had it all figured out. He knew I owned it, knew I was at the scene... Haines had probably in his time at the station told them a fair amount about me.

“Thank God you got that back,” Dylan called from behind me. “I didn’t think you’d ever see it again after we got mugged.”

The smug grin disappeared from the officer’s face. “Yeah,” I managed, the stone disappearing from my stomach. “It’s a good thing, too, because money is hard to come by these days.”

There was a moment of silence while the officer lost his one solid lead.

“Why didn’t you report the mugging?” he finally asked.

“Would you have done anything about it?” I shot back.

He stared at me. I didn’t blink.

“I’ll be back,” he said. “In case I have any more questions.”

The door slammed.

I turned, and for the first time, smiled at Dylan.

-

The next few days were a run of cops showing up to the apartment and asking questions. But we maintained our secrecy – we weren’t at the building when it happened. We were all at my apartment doing a housewarming thing... And Manny backed me up. As it turns out, his father was imprisoned in Westing on a false charge, but wasn’t let go. It was his act of retaliation that saved us all from prison – or worse.

But with every knock on the door was a growing sense of paranoia. Every time I opened it, it might be someone who would rather have me dead.

It was on the third day of the siege, as I called it, that I decided to do something other than sit around and wait. Naturally, I told everyone else to sit around and wait while I took care of some business and bought more food. They were all complacent – and it would give Sam and Tyler an opportunity to talk things out. I wasn’t privy to their conversation, nor was anyone else, which is why I told them before I left that they were more than welcome to the bedroom.

I grabbed my pants from that night and pulled out the three pieces of paper I had taken from the Island, and made my way down Main, stopping and asking directions so I could find the Nest.

The Nest, as it was also known as the Police Headquarters of Westing, was actually quite a nice building. There was a front desk sergeant to check people in, along with requisite hookers and Johnny Do-Bads handcuffed on benches waiting to be processed. When I told him that I had evidence concerning the new Dean of Students at Westing, at first he didn’t seem very involved. It was only after I mentioned the drugs that he perked up.

Maybe he had written me off as someone who knew nothing but was trying to get revenge. Or maybe he was on the take from the Dean. Either way, I wouldn’t be much better off running now.

I talked to a Detective named Murata. A nice enough fellow, I suppose – a big man with a nice, furry moustache over his lip and a big smile that revealed a chipped tooth.

“What can I do for you, son?” First thing he said.

Second thing, which took me a little aback was, “Well, aren’t you just the spitting image of your dad.”

I sat down quickly. “Yes,” I said, “Thank you. How did you know my father?”

“We served together before his plane was shot down,” Murata said. “Good man.”

“Oh. Yes, well, he was, wasn’t he?”

I expected a follow-up on my mother but found none.

“I’m here,” I said after a long pause, “Because I have some evidence against Dean Jones of Westing.” I pulled the photo from my pocket, the formula sheet with his initials on it, and assorted other pieces I had found in the much used lab under Banana Island.

“What’s this?” Murata seemed puzzled.

“Benny Jones’ father created Flash. Benny Jones’ is also carrying on his father’s legacy at Westing. There’s a line of corruption,” I said, “That runs very deep. That picture is about thirty years ago at the Mayoral ball.”

Murata nodded. “Now... What would make you think I would want to act on this evidence, since the corruption runs so deep?”

I was afraid of this. I was afraid every damned cop in the city would be on the take. But I wasn’t afraid to play ball.

“Oh. I had a feeling which team you’re playing for, Murata,” I said.

“Son, you have a very short amount of time to get out of my office if you are indeed accusing me of what I think you are.”

“Don’t be so hasty,” I said. “Your team – very lucrative. But I was wondering what your signing bonus was?”

Murata scoffed. “You wearing a wire?”

“No.”

He got up and shoved me onto the desk, uncomfortably patting me down.

“A little more than you can afford,” he said, returning to his seat.

I reached into my wallet and removed a fair stack of bills that amounted to something around half of his yearly salary.

“Care to play ball?”

Murata choked on his coffee.

-

I was standing in the Quad when the police charged the building, a nice warm breeze blowing through my hair. I heard the yells, and I watched the chase carry through the building, up the stairs, watching Benny yelp and leap almost every window.

And then I saw him fall. He was on the roof, standing near the edge, waiting for the police to bust through the door. It looked like he took a bad step and went tumbling down eighteen stories to the trees below. I didn’t see his body land, but I heard it – either he broke a lot of bones or branches on the way down. I saw the cops looking over the edge of the building – one of them pressed his finger to his ear and they disappeared.

Word around the school was the cops understood what happened. At that altitude, there was water all over the deck from the storms the night before that had flash frozen, and that the Dean wasn’t very careful of his footing.

Of course, in this weather, who knows how that could have happened. A couple of thoughts crossed my mind – but I quickly ushered them out. But I couldn’t help but smile to myself as I thought of George and his stupid goddamned super power.

-

Murata warned me that after the bust, I would be fair game again for the police should I commit any crimes... But he also said for the time being that I didn’t have to worry about anyone coming after me. That, “Because your dad was a helluva guy – a helluva soldier, I’ll look out for your best interests for a while.”

I wanted to ask him if he knew where I lived, but he had only served with my father.

“He talked about his boy back at home all the time, but was nervous about it. Didn’t know if he could raise a kid, rest his soul. Said he hadn’t even picked out a name yet, that he was leaving it up to the wife back at home,” Murata said. “Sorry,” he added quickly.

“For what?” I asked.

He just stared at me, almost dumbfounded as if I was crazy for not knowing. Maybe I was.

My throat began to close up again and I pulled the pill bottle from my pocket, quickly knocking one back.

“Woah, woah son. Lemme take a look at those. Come on, I’m not going to steal ‘em. Sure as hell not gonna arrest you.”

“Sorry if I have a little trouble trusting authority figures.”

He nodded and I tossed the bottle over. He took one of the pills out, holding it up to the light.

“Christ, son, didn’t you know there was a recall on this brand of Aeroid? AIP put it out... three or four years ago. I forget what exactly what the problem was, but you see this?” He held the pill up to my face. “Blue lettering. Old pill. New ones have red lettering on them.”

[FoJaR]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

wow things happened really fast there

[ShastaTwist]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

What time period are we in?

[MalReynolds]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

wow things happened really fast there

Yeah. But now is the time for action, not interior reflection. There's time for that later at the end.