The Ballad of Angus Pecos

Four fingered son of a bitch

Angus stood outside of the rickety wooden bar. His duster blew in the wind as swirls of dirt kicked up around him. The streets were empty and there was a stillness to the town tonight. All around the bar only occasional rats could be seen scurrying around. Angus knew that four fingered son of a bitch was in there. Only he could play the piano that badly.

Dammit. I really miss those sweet lo-fi beats.

Piano music poured from the crooked entrance swing doors. Shouting and laughter played an undertone to the cacophony. If there was one thing Angus missed most about his old life, it was definitely the music. He reached down and ran his thumbs over his pistol's grips and took a deep breath.

Angus walked up the steps and pulled his hat tighter on his head, he adjusted his six shooters at his hip and cracked his neck from side to side.

It's showtime.

In one graceful motion, Angus kicked the swinging doors open and drew both of his hand cannons. He had an idea of where that bastard was and aimed in his general area.

"Bartender, whisky. Now!" Angus yelled out as the entirety of the bar fell into silence.

From behind the wooden bar he heard an audible click and he tracked the sound with his eyes. Celeste, the bar keep, had a rather large rifle aimed....well, not totally at him but close enough. Obviously she hadn't had much training.

"Celeste. Put the gun down. You're too pretty to be accidentally killing a customer. I'm not here for you." Angus said as he quickly scanned to his right looking for the piano.

"I reckon I'll just keep shooting until I hit you." She said as the rifle barrel swayed from nerves.

"Fair enough, I suppose. I won't kill you then. Just graze you. Where's Jamison?" Angus had glanced at the piano and no longer saw his nemesis. The coward had to have ducked out somewhere.

"Well, obviously he ain't here and you shouldn't be either." Celeste said as she wiped sweat from her brow.

This time traveling had been weird, seemingly always taking him to western towns and always on the heels of Jamison. The one man who had the answers to where his dad had gone. Unfortunately that one man was stupid elusive and seemed to know how to time travel as well.

Angus didn't know how to time travel, it just happened. He was ok with it because he loved adventure and wherever he was taken, it was always an adventure.

"Tell you what baby girl, put the gun down. I'll put mine down. Pour me a shot of your best whisky and we can call it a night." Angus said as he lowered his pistols.

Celeste did the same and reached behind the bar for a shot glass. The murmurs started slowly as the bar crowd realized the action was over.

Angus scooped the filled shot off the bar and threw it back in one gulp. Before he could slam the shot on the bar top a gun fired from behind him. It shattered the glass in his hand and Angus spun from the bar and rolled to his right, on the floor.

Without pause he grabbed the nearest table and flipped it over, sending poker chips and cards flying into the air. These were the moments he loved and lived for. The four fat men that previously were playing poker at the table, yelled in surprise. A bullet sent splinters showering around them as Angus cocked both of his pistols.

"Glad you decided to stick around this time!" Angus yelled as the fat men scrambled away.

A hammer click from behind caught Angus' attention. He glanced behind and saw Celeste aiming her rifle at him again.

"Seriously? I thought we just agreed?" He said as he rolled his eyes.

She fired but he had expected it and he fell flat to the wooden floor. The smell of sawdust, spilled beer and horse manure filled his senses. Another shot and more splinters rained down on him.

Well, this was quite the mess. He had tracked Jamison through the Baren Sands and all the way to this town named Heaven. Seemed like false advertising to him. He was pretty sure there weren't guns in heaven.

He unholstered his guns and sent two shots into the bar behind him, glass showering down on Celeste and rendering her useless for now. He had a few seconds to spare, if he could just get a track on Jamison.

The entrance doors swung outward and Angus knew Jamison had bolted. Without hesitation he jumped up from behind the table and raced for the door. This is what he did, rush in. No worries, just deal with whatever happens when it happens.

He vaulted the table, his cowboy boots thudding loudly over the stunned silence. He never hesitated when he reached the swing doors, that just wasn't his style. He did, however, expect the gun shot that followed him bursting through the swing doors.

He immediately threw himself into a roll and came up with both guns aimed at the area where the shot had come from. He pulled both triggers and heard cursing behind two barrels of beer outside of the general shop.

"Did I get you? Are you ready to give up yet?" Angus yelled with a half smile.

"It'll be a cold day in hell before I give myself to you Johnny boy." Came the voice from behind the barrels. It was a gruff voice, one weathered by many years on the run and secrets held.

"Don't call me Johnny. He doesn't exist anymore, asshat."

Angus crossed the street as quietly as possible, he wanted to see if he had wounded Jamison. Six years looking and finally...maybe...he had him.

The sound of a flick of metal caught Angus' attention.

What in the world is he doing?

He got his answer when an object was sent flipping in the air and landing at Angus' feet. Four longish tubes, they were red...with a line attached to them all. What in the hell? It clicked once he saw the sparks from the line.

"Dynamite? Are you crazy?!" Angus took off in full sprint for the barrels and just before he reached them the explosion ripped apart his world. His ears rang and dust was so thick he couldn't see. He was pretty sure he wasn't dead.

Gathering his wits and rubbing his eyes, it was still hard to see. He felt his body for holes and was relieved to find none. His cracked leather duster had caught the brunt of the blast but it felt pretty sturdy. He reached for his guns and realized he must've dropped them in the explosion.

"Hey, that was dirty water buddy. Who gave you dynamite anyways?" Angus yelled, not quite sure where Jamison had gone.

"Your mother." Came the reply from the alleyway between the general store and basic housing. He had gotten the best of Angus this time, but it was ok. He was getting closer and closer each time.

"My mother is a sweet, sweet lady and you do not talk about her in any way except to say that she is a beautiful person." Angus said as he located his scattered guns. He picked them up and dusted himself off as he watched Jamison gallop off on a stolen black horse as the dust began to finally settle.

"Keep running old man. I'm going to catch you one day!" He yelled as Jamison flicked him the middle finger and rode away.

This was a pretty typical day in the world of Angus Pecos. Gun fights, western towns, you know. Real adventure. Not like his previous life.

His head started to throb, blurring his vision slightly. From his right eye he could make out what appeared to be a water droplet in his vision. He was about to travel again. He knew the symptoms. Quickly, he pulled the old watch from his pocket by the attached gold chain. The hands were spinning.

Well, time to go I suppose. I'll find that four fingered son a of bitch again. Bet your sweet ass on that.

In the blink of an eye, Angus was gone. Only a faint silhouette remained of where he once stood.