When The Red Sun Sets - Original Story

Broken and New Promises

It had been eight years since he held a revolver in his hands.

It was his father's and after a promise made to his betrothed, he had hidden it in the safe box under the boards under his bed for nearly eight winters. Now, it was in his hands once more. He knew what was going to happen next. And he knew it had to be done.

He stayed on his bed, contemplative, grasping the revolver that had many bloody memories buried within it. He knew it was inevitable. But he didn't think it would be this difficult.

A beautiful long haired woman he met a few years ago entered their room. "Red? I made some sausages....are you coming—". She stopped and said with no emotion. "What are you doing with that?" He stayed silent. She repeated the question. "Red...what are you doing with that revolver?" Her voice had no shake in it.

Now was a good as time as any to talk about it.

Red sighed, "He's back, Annabel."
"Who's back, Robert?" She never used Robert unless it was of utmost importance. "What are you trying to tell me?"

Red stared at the floor. "What I am trying to say is this: Dreyfus is back." The words that left his mouth made him feel sick. "I thought he'd be dead by now. But he's not. Now...well. Now, I need to finish this. Annabel." He looked at her vibrant green eyes and paused after every word. "I have to."

Tears began to swell at her eyes, as she whispered, "No. No. You promised. You promised me...that you would never pick up that gun again, Robert." Her voice began to tremble when she said his name.

But Red reminded her, emotionlessly, "I know. I promised I wouldn't...unless it was Dreyfus. He murdered my friend and left me for dead. I can't let him get away. Not when he's this close."

Annabel's face was streaming with tears now, "And then what?! You kill him and then the law will find you and you rot in jail or, or he kills you and I'll stay here waiting for someone...to tell me you're a corpse? You would risk losing all this? Lose me? Over what? Some age old feud?"

Red stood up and brushed his brown hair out of his eyes and announced, "The longer I stay here the sooner he finds me." He tried not to yell. "And the sooner he will kill you and me." He took some steps closer making sure the severity of the situation wasn't lost on her. "You haven't met the man, Annabel. And you don't want to see him when he's been wronged."

Red took a deep breath.
"The money he left behind...I used it to get this house. He is going to want to it back and nothing will stop him. I'm sorry. But I have to leave. I need to end this."
They were face to face now. Annabel knew what kind of a man Red was. She buried her face into his chest, wept and kissed him tenderly. She grabbed his jaw and looked deep into his eyes.

"Promise me. Promise me...you'll come back...in one piece, you hear?"

Red grabbed her hand and kissed the back of her palm.

"I promise."

The morning after, he went to town, a small town with just a enough to make do. Far enough away from civilization, to truly disappear.

Red liked this town, and the town like Red.

When he first made it here, he swore to himself he wouldn't let these innocents know about his past. Why should they?

Red entered Shannon's General store after wiping the mud off his boots. The smell of fresh fruits and vegetables filled his lungs. Joseph, the middle child of Edgar Shannon, was attending the register today. He smiled and welcomed Red like many times before.

Red had no reason today for idle chat. "I need a couple cartridges of slugs for my shotgun and rifle. And a pack of bullets for my revolver. I'll take a can of beans and some corn if you have them."

Quietly grabbing the things, Joseph stacked the items on the counter careful not to knock them over. After placing them in a paper bag, Red stopped him and put the rest of the items in his satchel, and placed a few silver coins on the counter.

"Is everything alright Mr. Robertson? You don't seem well."

Red looked at the young boy and gave a half smile. "I'm just gonna be heading out town for a few days. I guess the trip has got me nervous."

He saw Red put the packets of bullets in his satchel and said nervously, "I hope you stay safe in your travels, sir."

Red nodded and walked to the door. When he had his hand on the handle he said, "If Annabel comes by the next few days, put anything she has on my credit."
Joseph wrote down Red's name in a journal he had under the counter and asked without thinking, "Pa said you were a gunslinger before you came here...Is that true?"

He tried not to foreshadow anything of his trip and only said, "In a past life, maybe," and left the store.

Across the street, Sheriff Thomas stood tall as the townsfolk passed him by.

Thomas called out to Red. "Fine morning, partner! What's this? You're leaving?"
Red nodded at the sheriff, and placed his satchel on his horse. "Just for a few days. A week. Maybe two."

The Sheriff lit his cigar casually and questioned, "You've lived in this sleepy town for nearly 7 years. You came outta nowhere, built that house in that valley, never got in fights, no one from outta town asks about you, and now your gonna leave without Annabel?"

"Some business I got to take care of. It won't take long. I'll be back soon."

"Listen, don't take me for a fool, Rob." The Sheriff puffed his cigar and leaned in closer. "If you got trouble, I can get some lawmen together. Just give me the word."

"Trust me, Sheriff." He placed his boot in the stirrup and swung around on the seat. "If it was something I couldn't handle, you'd be the first to know."

"Take care of yourself. We'll all be waiting for you to return." Sheriff Thomas gazed as Red clicked and his horse began trotting out of town. This man was always extremely secretive but he never stepped out of line. What sort of business would this man have?

Unless, of course, the rumors were true.

Late that afternoon, the man known as Robert departed into the open fields. The life Robert knew, the peace he struggled to attain, had ended. He rode hard and fast as if flaying himself to return to the senseless violence he was infamous for. The further he got, the more he was reminded of his old ways. Every night, the deep, dark, chilling deserts were a sharp reminder of his own waning spirit. He was much older now and the energy he once had was nearly dead. His gunslinger life was a fire he was sure he smothered out, but upon hearing that name...Dreyfus...it had ignited it once more. Soon, there will be a raging fire charring the west.

A few days later, deep in the desert of Nevada, he restarted his old lifestyle: a small tent, a bed roll, a humble fire to prevent being captured, enough food to last him at least 2 weeks in the wilderness and his revolver laid in his tent. On his horse, named Magog, was a repeater, and a shotgun. Staring at the fire for long periods of time, he was reminded of his past. He chuckled to himself about how his legend grew. The good and bad.
Dreyfus. Jimmy. Jacobo. Annabel.
Laying underneath the stars that night, he began to reminisce.