Highpoint Highlights

Month 5, Year 1 of the 3 Year Horde

 

The rays of the sun was a warm blanket around him while the winds carried the screams of joy as young Reds were chasing each other. Training would continue until it was too hot to do so safely then they would break for lunch. They were learning basic combat tactics and how to fight as a group. I was not meant to fight, but to go unnoticed and slip around to get what the Cell needed most. So I did what I was best at, slipping between the trees and hiding between the large tropical leaves…”Where did he go?! Quickly check our flag, if he slips away with it again we lose!”

 

“Rasputin!” Suddenly I snapped back to reality and slowly peered over to the other Reds around the table. Cold air was rushing through the vent built into the grey cement room. Even with our engineers working hard, the old York winter was finding its way into Highpoint. The one who called my name was much younger, a bit pale from being inside so much, and concerned about the matters at hand.

 

“How are we to deal with this next wave and get supplies in?” She was nervous. Her fiddling with the pencil in her hand, when she asked a question she did not make eye contact with me. She was too young to be at a table making life or death decisions, but I had to start training others just in case I was not able to. Or rather, when I will not be able to.

 

Well let’s try to ease this by not making eye contact either and give an adequate strategy. “Coat two units with Zed Be Gone. It will attract the Mortis Champions and repel the weaker zombies, which will give enough time and space for Tizer to get this run of supplies in.” I got up quickly and began to leave the war room of Highpoint, leaving Camael to fine tune the plan. These emotions, I need to think rationally, I can’t keep feeling them if I need to take care of the people here. It appears the proximity to all these Red Stars is starting to incre…”

 

“Rasputin.” I turned to see a much taller and battle ready Red. As usual he had a calm stature about himself and waited for me to stop and turn before speaking again. “I hope I’m not speaking out of turn or prying, but are you alright? You seem a bit more distracted than usual.” He sees me quite thoroughly. He always has, even with my cold exterior to him for the many years he has known me. I looked down trying to assess the proper word choice. “No, but it is not hindering my work performance currently. There are higher priority tasks to be addressed.”

 

Jude interjected swiftly as I was beginning to turn my heel and return to my work. “Just because it is not hindering your work performance, does not mean it should not be addressed. You are here with your people, seeking help from another is healthy and wanted.” His statement is correct. You are safe and we all are, perhaps this is what Mayakovsky has spoken so many times about. “You are correct. I will consider it, but for now they need my help and focus more than I need theirs. Our very lives depend on the unity, organization, and execution.

 

Month 8, Year 2 of the Three Year Horde

 

Jude sat against the door of the cement and barren room. All that was there was three plastic cups with a pitcher of water, a metal table, and three chairs. I sat across from a bloodied and greasy Red. The Red’s eyes darted back and forth between Jude and myself. Anger, Paranoia, but sprinkled with trust glared back at them. The past few weeks were not moving forward that well. Jude and Wojtek’s interaction have ended mostly in violence, but this week we were going to try something new.

 

Years ago Mayakovsky spoke about physical touch and how it can strengthen a relationship, builds a connection, put someone in tune with their feelings. Jude spoke about feeling and addressing my issues as well. Perhaps we can address both at once. Wojtek is quick to use violence, but in the past he and I used our words. I made eye contact with Wojtek and waited until Wojtek’s were steady on me. Then I lifted my left hand calmy and extended just a few inches. Wojtek’s eyes quickly shifted to the extended hand and back to meet my eyes.

 

We sat there for a few minutes, not saying a word. Then the shift happened in Wojtek. His tight grip on his weapon relaxed and he let it fall against the table. His hands were shaky but he reached out and clasped my hand. His grip was devastatingly strong, coursing with the raider blood I am sure, but I could feel him. I took a slow deep breath and relaxed as I felt waves of serenity wash over me. This was what Mayakovsky was talking about. It’s so calming, so quiet, everything else is just trivial. Wojtek began to fully relax, the muscles in his shield arm loosened letting his heavy shield drop to the ground. He pulled the mask down and his raspy voice managed to ask for water. Jude came over slowly, poured him a glass of water and rest his hand on Wojtek’s shoulder and my own. I forgot what this felt like…

 

Month 12, Year 3 of the 3 Year Horde

 

The young red sat across from me on a comfortable couch. This was one of the few rooms we had our engineers make with windows. It was one of the highest points in the compound and it was meant for emotional recharging as they called it. The young Red had grown so much in the three years on the war council table. She took meticulous notes, learned my mannerisms, and even found time to now sit with me to work on my own weaknesses.

 

Unlike like about two years ago when she was nervous and couldn’t even make eye contact with me, she was not afraid anymore. It almost felt like the roles have reversed now. No longer was I sure about the situation, but instead nervous unsure how to process what was happening. Or more specifically, nervous about opening up.

 

“Rasputin, you haven’t said a word today. What is concerning you?” She waited, using the silence tactic I taught her when it came to working with emotional injuries. I closed my eyes and took a moment to evaluate my state, knowing she would not let me leave until I answered her. “I am anxious. It has been three years since I have been in Hayven. Three years of working to make sure as many people survive here as possible. I am not sure I am ready to return yet. Without hesitation she responded, she knew what I was going to say. “Well use the skills that have kept you grounded this whole time. Our people remain grounded by people. There are times when we are weak, it happens to everyone, but our strength is in our unity. You didn’t do this alone nor did you survive this long alone either.” She was right, throughout my life I have always found someone or some group to call a “Cell.” Whether it was the Krattikoffs, the Lascarian Tribe, or D.O.C. in the past. Today I now also have CAV and Highpoint to be that for me. There was just one last thing I would have to do and one that will be the most grounding.

 

“Carlos,” I simply said. The younger red seemed confused and about to ask what that meant. “That is my birth name from my original cell and it is about time I started truly opening up to others. So please call me Carlos.”

Broken Wheel 8/3/16

The air was starting to cool as the sun began its trek back to the landscape. Soon it would be dark and the two of them were certainly in a pinch. A young boy played around with the scraps of the wood that once was the wheel to his caravan.

“Sorry ma, didn’t see that ditch right there. I can’t just patch this up either, were gunna need a good ole mechanic.” The young boy had a puzzled look on his face as he looked up to his mother.

With nightfall coming they could set up shop here and sleep the night, but stayin right on the side of the main roads of Lone Star could spell trouble for just a mother and her son.

“No, darlin’ we need to find a mechanic now and have this fixed up. Besides, we need to get to town for food too. So why don’t I stay here and watch our stuff, you can go to the nearest town and find a mechanic willin to walk out here. Here is some Brass, remember to hide it on you and take your sword.” She smiled as she took off her hat. On the inside rim of her hat she removed some Brass and passed it to the boy.

With a worried look on his face the boy took the Brass. “Are…Are you sure momma? You want me to go to town all by mahself?”

She smiled and let out a small chuckle as she brushed her hair back, “Yes, darlin. You are the only chance we have of gettin food and a good nights rest!”

“Ugh momma, again? You keep usin that darn pun every chance you get!” The boy’s face wrinkled as he even realized what he did and knew what was coming.

“Yes, because you are my only chance,” her laughter could not be held in as she almost keeled from it.

“Now here is your sword and get goin.” The boy grabbed his sword, the small armor he had fitted to his chest and began his walk to the nearest town.

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As the boy made it into town he saw numerous mechanic shops. Many of them run by DJs, but there was one that stuck out to him. He tilted his head and shrugged as he made his way there.

“Howdy, anyone here?!” The boy looked into the garage squinting. A boy just a bit smaller than him with light brown hair popped out from under a caravan.

“Yeah, how can we help ya?” As he crawled out it was obvious he was one of the mechanics with a wrench in one hand and oil stains splattered all over his clothing.

“Mah caravan hit a rut outside of town and the wheel got busted. Could we get someone to come out and fix it?”

Without a second to spare, the oil stained boy went runnin over to another caravan. “Hey poppa we got a busted caravan outside of town.” A much older man looked from outside a caravan and began to clean up.

“Howdy, I can go fix it up, but we are gunna need the Brass upfront. 10 Brass, no negotiatin.” Chance pulled out the Brass he had and frowned when he realized he only had 8 Brass. “Only got 8, but my momma could pay the rest when we get there.

The older man sighed, nodded for the oil stained boy to grab the Brass. “Yeah, guess that’s alright, but don’t mind me grabbin mah own weapons and armor.

Chance’s eye’s lit up, “No problem sir, by the way, mah name is Chance Michael Lincoln, thank yah for your work!” The man stopped for a moment and looked down at the boy. “Lincoln, huh?” He paused for a moment and then looked back down at Chance, “Names Rodger, Rodger Maddock.”

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As Rodger and Chance made their way the last stretch of the road to his caravan, Chance ran over to his mother. “Howdy momma, found a guy, but he is gunna need 2 more Brass. Her eye twitched for just a moment as she turned to look this man in the eye, “Ten Brass for one wheel repair, what the…”

She stopped as soon as their eyes met and all they did was stare at each other in that moment. “Darlin, why don’t you go into the caravan and check on the plants you are growin. This is gunna be awhile.”

The two adults stood there in complete silence. The man would look over his shoulder to see her starin right at him, he knew she never broke eye contact with him. A little smirk grew on his face, “How long has it been?”

“Eight cycles by my count,” she answered before he could answer himself, and she knew he would answer it if she didn’t. Her cold stare broke and her eyes softened for just a moment, “How’s here doin?”

The man stopped fixing the wheel and turned to grab his water, “He’s doin’ good. Goin’ be the best mechanic in New Austen if he continues with how fast he is learnin’ to build shit. Damn boy wants to build everythin!”

_____________________________________________________________________

The rest of the job went in complete silence. At the end of it the man put his tools back in his box and began his walk back to town. She walked with him for about a quarter mile before they stopped. “Take care of yourself Rodger and take care of him for me.”

The man smiled as she paid him the last few Brass she owed him. Before they parted the man couldn’t help but say one last thing, “His name is Mitch.” That night both families had a nice small meal with their kids, never to part ways again.

Dichotomous Desires 1/16/16

“Yer ones of those people…” I need someone to walk with or else I walk with no purpose.

The warmth of the food began to settle the pain in his stomach. Though this was no famine, it was still hard to find a well cooked meal during winter. The Double Tap was barely lit by the candles spread throughout the room. The room was practically empty except for the few Lonely Streetz members who TJ was serving food to. No one wanted to be outside because the bitter cold was there with clowns, hunters, or whatever else wanting to get you.

He took one more bite of his food and savored it as he looked up. Hunched over her food and covered in patches, she didn’t stop for a bit until she looked right at him. “You know I feel like there is a dichotomy in you Chance.”

His body straightened up and looked at her with a puzzled face, “I don’t know what that word means.” She smirks for a moment and answers his very softly, “It means opposite sides. There are two sides of you and they clash.”

Chance darts his eyes away from her for a moment and looks around the room. The closest person was 10 feet away, no way he could hear them; and if a threat came in we are in the perfect spot to not be noticed and get ready to fight or flight. He glances back at both of their axes laying on the table next to each other. Both of them were very worn down, but could still bring a lot of pain if called upon.

She waits patiently for the moment he looks back at her and continues to explain. “One half of you cares about everyone. You try to hide it but I know you really do care about them. The other half though confuses me when you say that you want to be completely independent from everyone. You can’t have both Chance.”

“Yeah I can,” he says very bluntly to her. He looks directly at her and she doesn’t seem phased by it. Why do you still have this wall up, let them down. She probably won’t hurt you. In one breath the wall went down. Waves of fear start to wash over him and an instinctual need to be more aware kicked in.

“If you try to have both you will only end up in pain. Like missing teeth, they will always be there and you will always know it is there,” she tried to look him in the eyes, but he kept looking slightly down. He sits there for a moment and finally looks up back at her, ”Well I already have a bunch of missin’ teeth…So many people I loved have died and I will never forget them.”

There it was; the emptiness, the absence of connection. He could remember all their faces, their names, who they were, but there was nothing left for him to feel. Be honest, you need to be honest. “I don’t care for everyone, how I care is in groups.” As he speaks he motions with his hands as if he is holding a ball, “There are those in the first group, I don’t care who they are, what they do, or what happens to them. Then there is the middle group, the people I have met, and like; people who I want to see live cuz they bring something to mah life. Somethin’ to the places I travel and live in.” His hands clasp and he looks up at her, “Then there is the last group. The group yer talkin about. The ones I love. The ones I care so strongly about I’m willin to put everythin on the line to save them.”

You lied, stop lying and correct yourself. She needs to know the real you, the thing you try to hide from everyone. “My family. I can’t live without them. I need them and want them to live for as long as they can so they can live with me. Yeah there is gunna be that pain in the end, but it ain’t so bad if I know they lived a long time with me.” The waves of fear began to fade as the words left his mouth. Replaced by a bridge that was being built between the two of them, he couldn’t break eye contact. “I can have both and I will.”

And Arrow…” His heart spiked in that one moment, fear came back, but there was something fighting that fear. Something that was much more important to be said, “Yer ones of those people…” Her eyes soften in that moment and she breaks eye contact for just one moment. Before he could say anything she leans over and plants a soft kiss on his cheek.

A voice shouts from behind us calling for her attention, “Hey Arrow, sounds like we got some fighting in the distance, wanna go check it out?” Her head perks up and she begins to look eager as she slides of the table and affirms this desire. She grabs her axe and begins to move. Chance sits there for a moment and prepares to join her as well. He grabs his own axe and begins to follow her.

“Yer ones of those people…” I need someone to walk with or else I walk with no purpose.

Gotta Keep Walkin’ 9/29/14

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Cold chills run up and down my spine as I try to keep my jacket tighter to my body. I can’t zip it up or it would restrict my movement. If I only have my knucks, I gotta be fast. The stars are shining above in the field of Ripton Falls and the shadows by the Morgue are watching me. Behind them are Riptonnites.

Krey, Rambo, and Marcus are too busy talking to see or hear what is going on. Raven is attempting to get close to the Riptonnites by talking to the Final Knights. Die or Convert they say, they ain’t gettin me. Raven disappears in the group of Final Knights and a knot begins to form in my stomach.

I turn away from the Morgue and begin to walk back to Rambo. Rambo, as always, devises a plan to wisely retreat without the Final Knights catching on. Turnin back don’t feel right. I hope Bastion is okay. But if I want to keep going, I gotta keep walkin’. I begin to walk back to the center of town, it was time to tell the town it is too late to save them.

 _____

                TJ, Bruce, and Chuck begin walking down to the water where Ruth and two children are preparing for their Sunday Service. Ruth has something in her hand, and I’m pretty sure it is a baby. I begin to catch up to them and that is when they show.

                Murphy, Sliphox, Radimir; they’re forming a wall between us and the children. Chuck starts yelling at Murphy and TJ and I move forward. We attack Ruth and she screams in pain. She passes off a baby in a red cloth to another child and the child tries to run.

                As I put down the child next to Ruth, Bruce stops the child with the baby and takes the baby from her. Brock runs off with the baby and I see Doc Rain look at me. He has two dots over his right eye and he begins to take the child away from me so he can stabilize her.

                “Put her down, Doc Rain,” I stare at him with a cold voice and face alike. He tells me he is going to stabilize her, but I can’t let that happen. The knot begins to form in my stomach again and I walk over to where they are. Ruse and Izabelle attempt to form a wall but I walk right by them.

                I can’t believe I am about to do this. Just do it Chance, or your family will suffer. I place my blade on her throat and I begin to deliver the final blow when Ruse pushes his knife in the way. I look up at him and warn him but he doesn’t move. I then begin to slash through his armor and he retreats. I place the blade back on the child’s throat and deliver the final blow. I look to my left afterwards and I see Ruse on the ground dead, and Chuck hovering over his body. It’s done, now we can keep goin’.

_____

                She sits in between my chest and my shield and I can’t stop staring at her. She is so small wrapped in her red blanket and just five minutes ago she was going to get baptized into the Gravemind Children Farm cult.

We are outside of the hospital and the sun is shining bright after the morning storms. The baby is sound asleep despite all the arguing going on around me, but that is when he walks in. A man bloodied and limping into town, he has a sword and shield in his hand and I immediately start backing up. He doesn’t even acknowledge me and that is when some of the town approaches him.

He begins to speak about the Orphanage and how it was attacked. The farm of children came and kidnapped the children of the Orphanage. The buildings were destroyed and many died. He spoke of Jane and Anne barely surviving and my heart begin to feel lighter, but then I looked down again. What am I gunna do with you?! I was gunna bring you there, but now…

 

Kira walks up to me and asks to hold the baby. After all the arguing she says she will bring the baby to the orphanage near Hayven, and turns to leave there. She begins to leave and I worry for a moment if the baby will get there safely, but I couldn’t spend too much time worrying, there are more pressing matters to attend to. There’s a war comin’, and I gotta be ready for it.

_____

Who am I becomin’? I made a vow to never kill kids after the Dollies, but now everythin’ is different. The knot tightens in my stomach as I pack up my things onto my caravan. The sun beating down on my back, and I keep packing the caravan. Emptying out most of the luxurious and non-essentials I prepare the caravan to fit more people than normal. Gotta be ready to pull out with my family, just in case. No matter what, I gotta keep walkin’.

A Slice of Summer Hayven 4/16/14

For once in a long time, it is a beautiful day in New Hayven. The sky is a light blue with clouds gliding past on cool breezes that ease the summer heat. The very earth is firm for once, though the blades of grass are still moist from the light shower that passed through a couple of hours back.

 

Towards the side of the field is The Run N Gun. The building has taken a beating recently from explosions, people trashing the place, and abandonment, but it still perseveres through it all. The sharp smell of alcohol lingers, and if your nose is good enough, you can smell the manure from the farm out back.

 

Today, though, there is not a care in the world. People are enjoying the beauty of the weather, welcoming it after months on end of frigid snow and slick mud. A wind passes by the hookah sitting on a table next to the Run N Gun, and Chance catches a whiff of it.

 

The sweet smell of blueberries grabs his attention, and he turns to the Hookah Lounge. The green tent is compact with people standing and sitting around the picnic table. Their laughter and chatter fill the air around them as smoke hovers above their heads.

 

Chance turns back to the resting figure near him. He traces the scars that run down her arms—from fights no doubt; many have been there for years—fights she has won and lost. He stops when his fingers encounter some more recent scars. They are still a bit tender from the fight, a recent one, possibly on her travels back to New Hayven.

 

When he finally reaches her hands, she reaches out and grasps his own. He smiles as their fingers intertwine and he continues to inspect them. Her hands are so different from his: hard and calloused, especially around the knuckles. There is no doubt in his mind she has been a brawler her whole life, always fighting for what she wants, what she needs.

 

His hands though are almost a sharp contrast. While his have a few calluses, even those are different. Dirtied hands, but still smooth on the top; they hide the calluses that rest on the palm of his hands. His knuckles have small calluses on them; he too has learned to fight for what he needs, but sometimes it isn’t about fighting for him.

 

He begins to caress her hand with his thumb and they make eye contact. Her light blue eyes are piercing through the blood stains across her face. Past the blood, though, is smooth light skin that is crisscrossed by scars. The curls of her light brown hair are poking out of the sides of her cap and through some of the holes in it. Chance smiles.

 

He finally lies down in the grass, and his muscles begin to relax a bit; but there is still some hesitation. Looking around, he sees many people in the field. Some of them are smoking hookah, some are cooking, and others like Nida and Chance, are taking this moment to relax and enjoy the warm rays of the sun.

 

Maybe, just this one time. He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, his breath ruffling the strands of hair that have fallen in front of his face. A wave of serenity passes through his body as each muscle finally loosens up from the tension of traveling. As he closes his eyes, he can still feel the warmth of the sun blanketing his body. The chatter in the air is overwhelmed by a breeze that carries leaves passing through the woods nearby.

 

While things could go wrong at any moment, this moment is one he will never forget.

A Son’s Undelivered Letter 2/6/14

Dear Momma,

Its been a long time since I thought about writin to ya, even if you’re dead it’s nice to think you are still lookin over me. I can’t say life is bad, but I aint gunna lie its been a long time since I’ve had a real smile on my face. Yeah I smile to people, I mean, it would be rude to not smile when tradin and havin a good time with other folk. But things are changin. I have an old lady, friends, I even have a family. For once in a long time I’m thinkin my smile is real.

Since I lost my caravan its been real hard tryin to find a new family, people to call a home. I’ve fought with a lot of people, includin people I should have known that would always be by my side, like Tex. But through all that we’ve gotten stronger, we know how to take care of each other. Hell, we haven’t fought since we fixed everythin.

Y’know, I’ve been thinking about it a lot and realized my whole life I’ve thought of things like families. The Fallow Hopes was my family, Hedon became my family, and now I have a weird group of people of all faiths and walks of life that I call family. Even though I travel the lands scared that my next death will be my last, I’ve never hesitated to save people I would call my family. They are people I love, people I would die for.

Things are changing, I’m changing. I aint the kid I used to be, I have people I take care, people who look to me for help. And I aint going to fail them now, I have to protect them, I have to show them that they can be happy to. I think I’ve finally found my place in this world, and all I can do is smile.

Your Son,
Chance Michael Lincoln

Another Day in Hayven 4/2/14

His face is resting on his arm in the dark lit building of the House. Sitting next to him is Alia Wayland. She sits there looking worried at him but he seems to ignore her as he lifts his head up and gulps down another large portion of the bottle of hootch in front of him.

 

“Chance, you shouldn’t be drinking this much. It isn’t healthy…” her face looks worried as she tries to make eye contact with him. People are walking in and out of the house, stumbling over the stuff on the ground because they can barely see in the candle lit room. For the most part though, the House is quiet and empty except for the few Loyalty Inc members resting up and guarding the place.

 

He rest his head back on his arm and begins to talk, but then lifts it up and looks at her. His eyes are half open and even sitting it seems like he may fall out of his seat. “…Imma drink however much I wanna drink. I’m stuck in this crazy fuckin town, last I saw Nida was at Xmas, and my town is opening up its gates again. I’M STUCK HERE AND CAN’T GET TO RIPTON RIGHT NOW. I HAVE WORK TO START DOIN BEFORE THE GATES OPEN UP!” Chance slams his face back down against his arm and mumbles a few more words into his arm.

 

Alia goes to grab the bottle of hootch from Chance’s grasp but a quick yank by Chance and he loses his balance. Falling backwards he slams into the ground and the bottle shatters next to him. Alia quickly stands up, people around ready their weapons but relax when they see no danger, “Chance are you okay!?”

 

Standing above him she extends her hand for him to grab and helps him get up and regain his balance. He leans his hand on the table to maintain his balance and then start stumbling to the door. “Where are you going?!” Alia quickly says to him.

 

“I’m goin for a walk. I can’t sit here no more. Being in one spot is botherin me!” Alia rushes over to the door and blocks his path, “No, no, no you are going nowhere! You are horribly drunk and didn’t even grab your weapons!”

 

Chance just stands there squinting and looking directly into her eyes. “I don’t need no weapons, I got ma fists. Now move.” With one strong pull he opens up the door, shoving Alia to the side and begins to walk outside. Alia quickly runs out the House and catches up to Chance.

 

“Why are you doing this, Chance?” The look of concern is clear on her face, and she looks around to initially make sure there is no danger. “Why? Cuz I don’t got anywhere to go! Tex stole my caravan and I’m stuck here!” Without even noticing Chance steps on a piece of ice that is still frozen to the ground and slips, falling straight on his back again.

 

He looks up to the sky as he lays there, not worrying himself because any pain has been numbed by the hootch. “I miss them… I just wanna know that she’s alright. That she’s alive…” Alia stands there next to him, offering a hand to get him up again. A small smile appears on her face and she speaks in her calm voice, “And she will return, you just have to have a little hope.”

 

Chance grabs a hold of her hand and she helps him regain his composure. “Now let’s get you back inside and clean you up. You’re filthy and I bet she wouldn’t want to see you all dirty like this!” Chance looks at Alia and a small chuckle escapes as he smiles, “She wouldn’t care, she knows I like rolling in the dirt…”

 

Bravo 9/10/13

“Carry on my wayward son, there will be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest, don’t you cry no more.”

 

Chance carries himself slowly across the Saloon to the main bar table. The short Bay Walker stands there with a big smile on her face and turns to him as he arrives. “Hi Chance!” A bald man who is blatantly drunk has his arm viced around Tex and is spouting drunk nonsense at the table and Chance just turns to Thursday. “I’m ready to get fixed up.” Thursday then clears the table a bit and readies the seat behind the bar. She then gestures for him to sit and he does looking towards her. She begins to assess his wounds and treating him when the drunkard catches his attention.

 

“He’s….a Minisur General…or something like that up in the Mass…..” he spouts to Tex. Tex continues the conversation trying to avoid the man’s breath that reeks of hootch while trying to gesture at Chance. “Oh yeah, what town? Do you know the name?” as Tex asks he begins making gestures to Chance when the drunk isn’t looking but I can only look in a bit of confusion, the pain from the long lasting wounds building up too much.

 

“Ripton….Riptons Falls, I think it was called…..Mannn I loved his mother so much. I asked her to marry me but she wouldn’t budge, she wouldn’t stop talking about her son.” It’s him…This is Jimmy Finch? He looks a mess, but it doesn’t seem like a trap. In almost a trance state everything began to drown out. Thursday’s voice becomes muffled but I know she is saying something. I begin to lower my head low enough that I can look at him, but he can’t make eye contact with me. For a moment Thursday’s voice pierces through, “So I’m just gunna take your gun now….” She begins to reach over but I stop her with one firm word, “Stop.”

 

Thursday freezes and finishes up the treatment. As I get up John has been watching this whole scene unfold from the side of the bar, right behind me. “Is everything alright Chance?” he asks but I ignore the question, grab my weapons and put them against my leg just in case I need to pull them out quickly. I stand next to Tex facing forward at both of them. “My momma never liked gettin’ married.”

 

All I can do is stare the man down and he looks from Tex to me with a blank look on his face. “What’d you say?” is muttered from his mouth and I repeat the sentence. “My momma….never like gettin’ married.” This time the sentence contains more anger in it, as this man continues to look at me with a blank look.

 

Still holding Tex in a tight grip he turns to look at me fully. “Are you….are you her son?” Taking a deep breath my thoughts begin to diminish. “Yes, I’m Chance.” His face begins to show sadness and he takes a few steps closer. Then begins his talk to me about my mother. This…This isn’t a trap…He really loved her. God damn these feelings. Stop it Chance, there is no more room to cry, you gotta take it on the chin and keep going. He continues to give information to me, his genuine look of sadness. He has been drinking himself to almost not being able to walk because she died. After he is done speaking I look at him, but nothing is coming out of my mouth. Why can’t I say anything…..I don’t know what to say…. “Your momma loved you, and she never was a woman of faith, she only spoke bout family, and how important it is.”

 

I look over to Tex who is standing there, just watching the interaction. Yeah, Family. That’s all that matters. “I uhhh…..did you see Boot Hill yet? I buried her there. Go there every Sunday to pay respects and leave flowers for her.” Again!? Why can’t I say anything? I can’t think of anything…This man spent the past 5 years with her and I don’t know what to do or say!” A brief moment passes by and I can only mutter one thing, “Thank you.” Then there it is, his eyes open up and begin to show happiness, as if he was looking for acceptance. All these weeks he has been drinking himself drunk and that’s what he wanted. To be apart of this family.

 

The next day comes and there is only one thing on my mind, Boot Hill. Stew joins me as I walk for one last time in Bravo to this graveyard. As we get there I walk past all the other graves to the two rocks with a stone bird next to it. Cowgirl boots lie a few feet away and painted on the two rocks is “B.M. Lincoln.” I kneel down and all I can do is stare at the two rocks.

 

Momma, I love you and there has been so much pain in my life since I left. I understand why you didn’t want me to leave, but thank you for letting me. I got more family now, some that truly care and will be there to the end with me. I know that now…Tex….Castor….they are family for sure. You don’t gotta worry bout me none now, I’m done cryin, it’s time I start helpin’ others too. Everyone needs a family, and I should be there to help them find it.

 

I take the stone bird and clean it up and bit, then place it back next to the rocks with her name on it. After I get up and start to walk past the small grave stones. Looking back I take one last look at the two graves “Ellis M.” & “B.M. Lincoln.” Goodbye momma.

 

 

Chance Short Story 2/1/14

Relief slowly came as Chance prepared his caravan for the trek back to Hayven. As much as he missed the land of Lone Star, the people of Bravo always made him wonder what he was doing wrong.

 

What made me so different that they would ignore me? Is it sumthin I’m wearin? Maybe they hear somethin bad about me. No I never did anything bad to a Bravo folk or a Brave. Either way I’m glad to be leavin now. At least on the road I’m invisible cuz I want to be, not cuz people are just ignorin me.

 

He packs the last of the bags into the caravan and the Hayvenites are sitting as comfortable as they can on the caravan for the long ride. The dry dusty air of Lone Star was so beautiful this early in the morning and yet the Hayvenites seemed grumpy and offset. Mickey’s air of hostility continued to radiate from his body and it worried Chance, but he knew everyone would be fine until we got back to Hayven. Everyone is going to behave on his caravan, or else they will get kicked off without a second thought.

 

Sitting in his spot he takes one last look of Bravo. The battered colorful tents of the Hedon camp lay quiet as they all relaxed and slept in until later that day. Some scroungers were up early looking for any good plants or scrap to grab up, they looked like Siege Squirrels scrapping for small pieces of meat.

 

Even when I spoke up they ignored me. Was it Tex? People always seem to love him no matter where we go, but it still doesn’t matter. I was the one who spoke up and yet they only cared to talk and acknowledge him. Aint his fault though, he didn’t do anythin. They are the ones who didn’t want to talk to me.

 

Chance stop it, there aint no reason to be thinkin bout this anymore. Like Chuck said, fuck em. If they aint gunna give me the time of day then they aint worth mine. I got my family and friends already, they care and that’s all that matters now.

 

A small smile appears on Chance’s face before he turns to look towards the road. Though the constant land of Lone Star is something he will always miss, his home and family are up North where the summers are humid, the autumns are colorful, the winters bitter, and the springs alive with color.

Chance’s Nightmare 9/26/13

Jimmy Finch’s face lights up in rage as he recalls Chance’s Father, “Just thinking about him makes me….makes me so angry!” All Chance can do is stare back at Finch, trying to piece together what this drunkard is saying. The Saloon is mostly empty and he continues to speak with anger seething from him, “Your father… he’s a rich guy. Always been well off… he’s one of them Pure Blood folk. But you aint nothin like him, you got your momma’s side and you should be proud of that.”

 

The Saloon scene slowly evaporates into darkness and Chance becomes an eight year old version of himself. He is lying under his blankets across from his mother, the fire smoldering and the stars in the sky are brighter than ever on this cool Lone Star night. Belle begins to scream out in her sleep, “No, please don’t leave me! Please Chance, don’t leave! I love you!” Sitting up Chance is a bit confused and he begins to walk over to his mother who is screaming this repeatedly. No matter how much he walks she is still the same distance away and Chance begins to run, but the same occurs. Running as fast as he can he can’t seem to get any closer so he begins to call to her, ”Momma I’m right here! I ain’t gunna leave ya! I’m right here, wake up!” But no matter how fast he runs or how loud he screams, nothing seems to be working.

 

Rain slowly starts to trickle down and yet his mother doesn’t seem to notice. With seemingly no shift this time, he is the Chance everyone knows now, weapons and all; he is still running to his mother. This time he isn’t screaming that he won’t leave, but for her to wake up. “Momma get up, the River Hunters are gunna come!” But no matter how loud he screams she still sleeps peacefully… suddenly they begin to appear. Slowly from the distance they crawl toward her sleeping body. He keeps running but not getting closer and the River Hunters continue their slow crawl towards her until finally they get to her.

 

As they begin tearing her body apart there is nothing Chance can do; his gun won’t shoot, his grenades aren’t on his scabbard, and his swords won’t reach to hit the Hunters away. The light from the fire begins to die as the rain beats it down and it is only then Chance finally stops running. Falling to his knees he can only stare as her body begins to be dragged down to Ripton Fall’s lake. The cinders of the fire are all that is left to light the darkened area, leaving Chance simply sitting there, soaked and in a state of complete shock…

 

He is now in the Run N Gun sitting at the hookah table. The usual people are walking in and out of the bar, the usual chaos and fun that it is all around him. Atrayu, Matches, Smegle, and more are all in the bar bullshitting at the main bar table. Tex walks in and they light up with excitement, all surrounding him to speak to him. For a moment Chance smiles, excited to see his cousin and he waves over to him. Tex doesn’t notice though, he is too engrossed with the people surrounding him. They all begin to shift back to their normal chairs and Tex goes behind the bar and the group continues their bullshitting.

 

Chance tries to call to Tex, his voice clearly audible but strangely Tex doesn’t seem to notice. He gets up from the empty table and walks over to the main bar table and as he is about to sit down Atrayu takes the seat and doesn’t even acknowledge Chance’s presence. Atrayu is busy speaking with Matches, but Chance can’t discern what they are saying, everything they are saying sounds muffled. He then moves over to Smegle who is talking with Tex. The two of them are talking about brewing up more hootch and special stuff for the night.

 

“I can brew whatever you guys need.” Chance looks to see if they even hear him, but they both ignore what he said. He repeats himself, but once again they don’t hear him at all. “Tex…..Tex don’t you hear me?!” He begins to worry and starts waving towards Tex, but his cousin doesn’t notice at all.

 

Then thunder booms and the downpour begins, Chance looks outside the door to see the rain forming large puddles already outside the Run N Gun. He quickly pulls out his knucks and backs to the farthest corner, preparing for the worst. Tex finally turns to him and yells at him. “Chance calm down and sit down, there ain’t no River Hunters here…”

 

“No…No where there is rain, there is River Hunters…” Without warning the flashbacks to his previous death come flooding back. The downpour…the River Hunters ravaging his body, and then the lake. His body coloring the water and the bodies floating around him. Tex once again yells at Chance, the same thing from before and he can’t help but stare at Tex….Why doesn’t he notice? Why doesn’t he realize?

 

Tex turns away from Smegle and makes his way outside as the rain clears. Castor is outside hollering about his pirate ship. Tex joins him as they both begin to argue about Tex going on the ship. Chance walks over to the door to watch his family argue, but then they turn to walk away. Chance tries to walk out the opening of the bar but hits an invisible wall. He slams his fists against it, but no matter how hard he punches it won’t break. Turning back he calls for help but now the bar is empty.

 

“See ya Chance!”Chance turns to see Tex and Castor waving goodbye as the laugh and put their arms around each other’s shoulder. “No…No don’t leave me!” He begins to punch furiously at the wall but it continues to hold strong. They continue walking though, not hearing him at all as they fade into the forest…

 

…Standing in a graveyard Chance stares at the gravestones in front of him. Each one labeled with people he knows; Aisha, Christopher, & Ellis. His old family from his time in the Fallow Hopes. They always kept him strong of faith and relied on his wisdom of the road to guide them safely. Another set of gravestones appear. Chance’s eyes widen in disbelief, “No… they can’t be dead… not them.” The three gravestones are labeled Texas Lincoln, Castor T.D. Flynn, & Bastion. Something beyond all the graves catches his eye. The silhouette of a man, he can’t determine any features, but he knows it is a man. He seems familiar, yet he knows they have never met. “Who are you?” Chance asks the man. The man only laughs and simply responds, “Well Chance, I’m your father.”

 

…Chance jumps up from his sleep in a panic state. Beads of sweat trail his forehead and he looks over to the people around him. The Strongs as usual are in the various spots and Nida right next to him. She sleeps soundly and he sits there for a moment before crawling out of the bed. Nida shifts in her bed and looks up, “Hey, yous okay?” Chance slips on his jeans and turns over to Nida, “Yeah, everythin is alright. Just gunna get me some air.” She nods to him and goes back to bed.

 

Sliding on his scabbard he places his hat firmly on his head and walks outside. The cold night is slowly shifting to day as it gets brighter out but the cold brushes by him and he buttons up his flannel shirt. He finds a nice tree that he can sit against and watches the sun rise as the day begins.

 

As the sun rises all Chance does is stare at the dull colors of the sky begin to glow light hues of orange and yellow. Who is he, and why do I keep having this dream? A bush shakes a little animal comes out of it. Another smaller one comes out of the bush following the bigger one in his tracks. Sniffing the ground they quickly flee when they notice Chance sitting against the tree nearby. Will he always not realize when I’m hurting? I wish he would talk to me instead of yellin.

 

Chance gets up from the ground, and cleans off his jeans. It is morning now and that means he must begin to prepare the caravan for its trek to Hayven. Maybe…just maybe he will get some answers there.