Though the morning was full of commotion, it was the smell that woke the bounty hunter up. He had slept through being dragged through the desert, he had slept through the fight that broke out, and he even slept through the shouting that came shortly after. Even through all that, it was that goddamned smell which eventually woke him up.
Harpadarpa presents...Though the bounty hunter had no way of knowing, the wind had shifted directions. For the whole morning, the wind had been blowing from East to West, but around 12 o'clock, it switched to blowing from South to North. The ashes from Clearpoint, and the smell of the corpses within, all drifted with the wind, right towards the small camp.
The bounty hunter opened one eye, and tried to spot where the smell was coming from. He had been sleeping on his side, and in front of him, he saw two well dressed men sat on wooden chairs, next to a crudely made cross. The cross sat in front of a mound of dirt.
Some sort of grave, maybe? Past the two men, he identified the source of the smell. A little bit of smoke drifting from beyond a cliff. Nothing flammable between him and the source. So he closed his open eye, and got comfortable.
"Hey... Bounty hunter... You awake?" The gruff voice came from behind the bounty hunter. It sounded almost irritated.
Also Starring:
wakemeup
@zyphon
mikonreborn
DomeWing333
@aldimon92
jake frost
"No."
"Come on. Get the hell up."
For the first time all morning, the bounty hunter opened both eyes, and peered over his shoulder. The guy was filthy. Covered in a copious amount of dirt and soot. Poorly maintained beard and mustache. Rusted spurs on his boots. Some sort of attitude on his face. The bounty hunter rested his hand on his hip-holstered revolver.
CLEARPOINT
Episode 1
In the Valley of the Sun
"You keep talkin'--"
"Hey, hey. The doctor wanted to see you in particular. Said you had a bad fall or somethin'. And the sheriff's still holding onto your pay."
The bounty hunter looked the filthy man in the eyes and hesitated. "Who are you?"
"I'm Brotato. I work at the mine on the west side of town... Worked, I guess. What's yours?"
"Where's Clearpoint?"
"Gone. Burned to a crisp." Brotato looked off into the distance, out towards the smoke. One of the two men sitting at the grave looked towards the miner. Brotato kept speaking. "Some psycho burned that place right to the ground. They're sayin' it was some sheriff guy, maybe. Er... Had some sort of star on him or somethin'. I dunno. Ask Sheriff Heisenberg if you wanna know. Now. What's your name?"
The bounty hunter paused a second time. "My name's IWMT."
"Alright." Brotato picked up a pen and paper, "My job is to write down people's names, and uh... How d'ya spell that?"
"Really?"
"Just tell me how."
"
Ay...
Double-yuh...
Em...
Tee."
"Like this?" Brotato hesitantly presented some illegible scribbles.
"Do you even know the damn alphabet? How'd you get this job?"
Brotato nervously chuckled to himself, "See the little blonde boy next to you?"
IWMT nodded. Kid's nose was broken. Had on a dress shirt, with a bit of blood on the collar.
"That's Zyphon. Knocked him flat with one punch. He's a newspaper boy, y'see. This was his job, and we got into a little bit of a fist fight. Sheriff didn't like that. He was so mad when he was chewin' me out, he kinda forgot to ask if I could read or write."
"Didn't think you should... I dunno... Find someone else to do it?"
"Don't wanna piss the guy off any more than I already have."
"Fair enough. Give it here. I'll write it," the bounty hunter scratched out the scribbles, and wrote in an elegant cursive. Passively, IWMT noticed about 15-20 names on that list, other than his own. IWMT remembered hearing that there used to be somewhere around 90 people living in Clearpoint. IWMT sighed, and moved on. "Here you go."
"Drop the notebook next to the newspaper boy. You're the last unlisted person here, and it's his notebook, anyway."
"Aight. Where's the Sheriff?"
"Bottom of the ridge, with your bounties, and all the other dead. Everything's there. Doctor wanted to see you first, though."
"Alright." IWMT stood up, and stretched his legs, and immediately almost fell down again. He vaguely remembered being knocked to the floor by something heavy, but past that, he didn't know a thing of what happened last night. Whatever it had been, IWMT knew he was still not quite himself. His leg was hurt, and he was very dizzy. Oh well.
The bounty hunter noticed Brotato walking towards 6 or 7 people washing clothes, and smoking cigars in the opposite direction from the ridge. His horse was also tied up next to them. He paid them no mind. IWMT limped towards the ridge, keeping his distance from the two sitting men, and looked down. Down below sat the sheriff, leaned against a horse, and a field of bodies strewn in front of him. Not wanting to go all the way around the ridge, he began mentally mapping a route down it instead. Suddenly, a small hand clamped on his shoulder. Turning around, it was the deputy. IWMT had seen him briefly, but made little note of the guy.
"Hi." IWMT said, trying to sound polite.
Pikablue scrubbed his clothes on the washboard, with those left in town sitting nearby. He didn't actually know all of them. There was Dome, Mikon, Aldimon, Jayko, and Brotato, who he worked with in the mines. He didn't quite recognize Mikon, Brotato, or Jayko, but it was a big place, that mine. There was Zyphon, the newspaper boy, who was taking down people's names, 'fore he got decked. Other than that, a little bit across the way, there was a bunch of city slickers that 'Blue didn't know, and didn't really care to know, either.
"Hey Mikon, look," 'Blue nodded towards the bounty hunter, a cheater's grin on his face. "Your boy is up and walking around. Now's your chance, man. Go on. Talk to him. I'm sure he'd love some company."
"You callin' me queer, 'Blue?" Mikon looked almost actually angry.
"All I'm saying," 'Blue did all he could to keep himself from chuckling, "is that you were eyeing him up pretty hard back there, while he was asleep."
"Look at that guy. He looks fuckin' scary." 'Blue took Mikon's advice, and he couldn't deny it. The bounty hunter did look pretty scary. Just seemed always ready to snatch his revolver out of its holster. "I counted, and he got 14 notches in his pistol. FOUR-TEEN. He's killed twice as many people as there are of us! Ain't sure I like havin' him around."
"He won't be." 'Blue said, in a soothing voice, "Not for long, anyways. These bounty hunters grab their cash and run. Don't worry 'bout it, man."
Dome snapped to attention, and 'Blue jumped. For a small, thin guy, Dome had an intimidating gaze. So many times had Dome made that face, and chewed 'Blue out...
"Don't hold the pick like that!" "You call that a long fuse?!" "Don't touch, let alone lean on that beam!"... Ugh.
"You didn't hear?" Dome said, relaxed as can be. "Sheriff's gonna offer the bounty hunter money for that Rusted Star's head. And Heis says that the Rusted Star eats a town at a time. He won't leave 'till we all run or die, and if that hunter takes the bounty, neither'll he."
Brotato, lookin' like he hadn't washed his face in a month, chimed in, asking, "What the hell are y'all talking about?"
"You ain't heard?" 'Blue said, near shouting, "They're saying this fire and all was the work of some outlaw nicknamed 'The Rusted Star'. He wears the silver star of the sheriff of Snakewater on his hat. From his name, I'd guess he hasn't polished it in a while."
"Why?" Brotato asked.
"Nobody really knows." 'Blue said, almost boasting his knowledge through his voice, "Sheriff seems to know something about it, but he don't like answering too many questions. All we really know is that The Rusted Star shot the sheriff of Snakewater dead. Deputy Ken said he thought the sheriff of Snakewater was The Rusted Star's first kill."
"Wait, didn't Heis say that the sheriff found him on the run after burning a family, or something?" Dome chimed in.
"Yeah," Aldimon said, "That's stupid, 'Blue. Quit talkin' crap."
"Hey, Dome." 'Blue shouted, irritated, "You think we're all gonna die, then why are you even still here?"
"Eh," Dome thought up a response. "I ain't too worried about all this, honestly. Sad that so many people died, but hey, we're gonna rebuild. And when we rebuild, they're gonna rely on the labor-workers to carry everything heavy, and to nail everything in. Lot's of work for us, boys."
"You ain't a goddamned laborer, Dome." Mikon shouted, "You just sat around and made sure we were working."
"Yup.
And I kept y'all safe. Any of you die in that mine? Huh? Something tells me you didn't. Y'all're gonna need somebody telling you what to do."
"Dr. Bioshock wanted to see you, 'fore you went down and talked to the sheriff. Said you might have some wound," the deputy shrugged. "You look fine to me. You're walking with a limp, but that don't look too bad. Oh well. Can't hurt. He's right here." The deputy led IWMT right to the two men sitting over the grave. Neither one noticed the two walk up.
The deputy solemnly stared at the burial mound, scratched his cheek, and hid his mouth. Then, remembering his purpose there, he quickly glanced back and forth between the two grieving men. Slowly, he walked up to one of them-the one in the fancier suit- and hesitated, before finally tapping his shoulder. The guy jumped out of his trance. The guy was clean shaven, and younger than IWMT himself.
If this is the doc, he must've learned medicine young, IWMT thought to himself.
"Doc, the bounty hunter's awake."
"
Jesus. Could you give us a minute, Kenny?" The doctor looked as though he'd seen a ghost.
"Uh. Yeah. Sorry." Kenny turned around, and quickly ushered IWMT a few feet further away from the two grieving men. They shared a moment of silence, before the bounty hunter spoke up.
"Who's the dead one?"
"Deadwaste." The deputy began to twiddle his thumbs, "He's-- er, he was-- from the Midwest. Around Nebraska. Fought for the Union in the Civil War."
"Huh." More silence. "Any good stories about Deadwaste?"
"There's one. You sure you want to hear it?"
"We ain't got nothing better to talk about."
Kenny sighed, twiddled his thumbs a little bit faster, and said, "You know, I'm not sure I like talking about the dead like this."
"What, did Deadwaste do something wrong?"
"No, not at all... It's just... Oh," Kenny separated his hands, and looked relieved. "Here comes Bio."
"Deputy," The doctor said, "give me and the bounty hunter privacy."
"Sure thing, doc." Deputy Kenny walked quick down towards the ridge.
"Sit down, and tell me when something hurts."
IWMT nodded, and obeyed; crossing his legs in the sand.
The doctor began to prod and poke IWMT's arms and legs. The bounty hunter quickly inhaled a few times, when the doctor ran his hands over a cut, or a bruise, but it was nothing too bad. Nothing seemed broken. At least not at first. When the doctor started to pat IWMT's back, he did all he could to keep from screaming.
"I figured," the doctor muttered to himself.
IWMT caught his breath, and asked, "What exactly happened last night, doc? Can't quite remember."
"You were in the bar, negotiating with Sheriff Heisenberg, when an explosion went off. The bar was on the outskirts of the explosion, so nothing too bad happened, but one of the beams holding the place up collapsed across your back. Knocked you out cold," The doctor brought his hands away from IWMT's body, and placed them in his pockets. "You'll need to rest for the next few days. Keep sleeping on your side. Avoid using your back to lift things. Lift with the knees, son. Run along now."
"Hold up,
none of you think it would be a good idea to leave here? I was just sticking around 'cause I figured there was no way out." Aldimon shouted accusingly.
"If you wanted to leave, you should've left with Cany." Jayko said, "That guy let anybody who wanted to leave go with him and his carriage just last night."
Aldimon ran his hands through his hair. "You've gotta be joking. Tell me you're joking. I went to sleep as soon as we got up on this ridge last night!"
"Nope." Mikon said, "Afraid you're out of luck."
"
Goddamn it!" Aldimon threw his hat to the floor.
"Look," 'Blue patted Aldimon on the back, "It ain't too bad. If what Dome was saying is right, that scary lookin' bounty hunter is gonna deal with it. And even if he doesn't, we can deal with one punk whose scariest weapon is a
match, arright? It's gonna be fine."
"Then why isn't Snakewater fine, huh!? Answer me that!"
"What happened to Snakewater?" Brotato asked.
"Jesus Christ, Brotato, have you been
living in that goddamn mine?" Aldimon screamed.
"Hey man, back off," Brotato's hand clenched into a fist. "Are you insulting me or something, kid?"
"Oh shit, you gonna fight?" Mikon started laughing. He was a much larger man than Brotato. More muscle, too. "Count me in, son. In fact, fight me first. I like eating sheepherders like you fresh."
"You think you can?" Brotato smiled, and stood tall. "Come on, get a taste!"
"Hey, Jesus, guys!" 'Blue stood between them. "So help me Hannah, this ain't the time for us to be fightin' each other."
"What are we gonna be doing instead, huh?" Mikon shouted.
"Have y'all forgotten about them Indians? They no doubt smell Clearpoint by now. When they notice the blood in the water, what do you think is gonna save us? Nothin' but ourselves. Now cool off, fellas."
"Hey, Sheriff. Some night, right?"
"58 of my people
died last night, bounty hunter. Show some respect."
IWMT cringed for a moment, "Sorry, sir. Look, where's my money? I'll get out of your hair as soon as possible, if I could just be paid what I'm owed, sir. I was told you have it for me, and that you'd seen my bounties."
"That I do. But first, could you do me a favor?"
"What is it, sir?"
"Pick your 5 bounties out of the crowd. I just can't bring myself to go through these bodies. I can't even recognize all of these people. My own people. God."
"Sure thing. Could I get the deputy to help me carry them?"
"Yep," The sheriff called for his deputy, and ordered him to help IWMT carry the bounties.
It took about 2 minutes for IWMT to notice his first man.
Raging Blades. This one didn't even have a gun. He just threw knives at IWMT. As if it would work. IWMT noticed a small burn mark on his throat. The bodies had fallen victim to the fire as well. Hm.
5 minutes later, IWMT had lined 4 bodies in front of the sheriff.
"Well let's see..." The sheriff seemingly racked his brain for their images. "We've got Raging Blades, Infernokun, Shawn of the Dead, and Fredden... Where's their leader? Where's Tiny Carlos?"
"Still alive somewhere, sir. When I killed these boys, which was maybe... A week or two ago... He ran off on some horse, with a rifle on his back. But uh... Why ain't you using their portraits? Y'know, to identify them, and whatnot?"
"Lost 'em in the fire. You wouldn't believe how bad Zyphon panicked when he found out. He had them in his little envelope, but they slipped out or somethin' as we escaped that bar. And by the by, thanks for telling the truth."
"Huh?"
"You told me the truth. About the bounties. A lot of bounty hunters might have just pulled up one of the burned corpses of my city, and tried to pass it off as Carlos." Sheriff paused. "Why didn't you?"
"I ain't a bad person, sheriff."
He chuckled, "You kill for money."
"I work for the law, same as you. How many people you killed in the line of duty, sheriff?"
The sheriff looked like he smelled something rotten, "Seven."
The two sat in silence for a minute. The sheriff was taller and thinner than IWMT, and had a brown vest, brown slacks, and a white dress shirt underneath. He also had a circled golden star, which read
SHERIFF on his chest pocket. He wore a mustache, which bent around his mouth, and went down to his chin, in a horseshoe shape.
"Here's your money, bounty hunter." The sheriff handed IWMT an envelope, which jingled with coins. The bounty hunter checked through, and counted each coin and bill.
"If you wanted, I have another job for you. Someone who
deserves to be killed."
"That
is my business, isn't it?" IWMT bitterly responded.
"Would you do it or not?"
"Who's the target?"
"The man who did all this. He has no known name. We don't know what he looks like. But we do know how he dresses when he commits his crimes."
"And how is that?"
"Dark clothes, not much darker than your own, a large hat, with a rusted silver star on the band. We call him The Rusted Star."
"How much will I be getting paid?"
"5000?"
"No way. Something like this? This is an unknown man, with an unknown hideout, unknown accomplices, unknown habits--"
"Not entirely unknown habits."
"Thought you said all you knew was how he dressed."
"I'm distracted. Sorry."
"Well what do you know, then?"
"We can get into the details later. I know his habits, and I know his style. The only thing I really don't know is how he did something of this scope. Something like this couldn't have been started without at least gunpowder, and a lot of it."
"You joking? There's still plenty unknowns. Call it 10 grand, and you've got a deal."
"7500, final offer."
IWMT considered it for a moment.
"Deal."
NEXT TIME ON CLEARPOINT: