Before You get to reading my story continuation, I'd like to make notes here because for some reason I can't edit my last one nor comment on it..... Editors please help.
For the first part, please see here
http://comicbookmovie.com/fan_fic/news/?a=25920
I named the gun as a S&W .357, but my story takes place in the 1870s, and the .357 wasnt made until the 1930s. So please just pretend it said Smith & Wesson Schofield .45...
Now on to story-time!!
It had been nine long days since Red and I met. 3 days of riding, and not much talking. It wasn't that he didn't try, I'm just not much of a talker. I watched him as he cut and prepared meat of the deer we had just killed. Good thing too, because my stomach had started to growl something fierce.
I finally decided to break the silence by saying, "I still dont see why we couldn't just take the damn train"
"Because," he replied, "those gentlemen in the bowler hats and button down jackets were Pinkertons."
"And why should have to ride all the way to California?" "The train could have gotten us there by now." "I'm not worried about a handful of over-glorified bodyguards."
Red just laughed. "It wasn't the Pinkertons I was avoiding"
"You mean that..." was all I managed to get out before he cut me off with, "Quiet!"
But I had heard it too. A twig snapping. We both slowly reached for our guns, careful not to make any sudden moves. Listening intently, I heard what I needed to. Someone breathing hard. Someone knowing their position had been compromised.
With my .45 Schofield in hand, I prepared for an attack.
Seconds later, anarchy struck. Loud whoops and hollers reminiscent of a pack coyotes who had been set on fire echoed throughout the desert night. An Arrow whizzed by my face, missing me by an inch. A large spear stabbed into the ground between Red's feet. I fired in the direction the arrow had come from, catching sight of a half dressed man, his hair shaved except for a line of it down the middle of his head. His face was painted red from his mouth upwards, with stripes of black adorning each cheek.
I heard Red shooting as well, and took chase to the bastard who was firing arrows in my direction. If I couldn't blow my scalp off the top of my head, I certainly was not going to let one of these savages cut it off.
Catching up with my attacker, I tackled and pinned him to the ground. Looking into his face, I noticed he was young. Couldn't be more than seventeen years old.
"I'm not gonna kill you, kid," I said to him. "But you're not gonna kill me either." I knew he couldn't understand my words, but he would understand my message.
I put the seven inch barrel of my Schofield against his head, looked into his eyes. I waited until I saw the fear take over. I waited until I knew that he would understand that him leaving quietly and peacefully would be the only thing to save his life.
I waited for the commotion to stop, then slowly I stood up, keeping my gun aimed at him. I motioned for him to stand, making sure his bow was out of arm's reach.
As he came to his feet, I slowly lowered my gun, and pointed behind him. He looked in my eyes, with a burning hatred, and we had a silent agreement. This wasn't over. One day we'd meet again, and on that day, one of us would meet his end.
As he turned and ran off into the darkness from whence he came, I headed to look for Red. Near our campfire, I saw another Apache warrior staring at me. He staggered, then fell face down, a tomahawk sticking out of his spine.
Not twenty feet away, there stood another indian. This one in deer skin pants, long hair half tied back behind his hair, with two white stripes painted vertically underneath a horizontal red one on each cheek.
"Yá'át'ééh," he said to me, "ak'is".
Confused as to what in the hell that meant, I pointed at the slain man on the ground before me, as if questioning I had seen that.
Before he could say anything else, I heard a rustling sound coming from a bush to my left. I turned, .45 drawn, and almost shot Red.
He was limping, and had blood stained on his right thigh. "Bastard stabbed me in the leg, but I put him down." "who's your friend coop?"
"I don't know, but he saved me from this one." I muttered while pushing on the lifeless body in front of me.
"My name is Gaagii." He spoke, surprisingly in english. "To you, it means Raven."
"Well thanks for helping us out Raven," Red said gratefully. "Where'd you come from anyway?"
Raven looked at us, and replied, "I have been tracking these three men for days." "They came one night to my village, took our food, and killed my family." "I have not seen them try to go back to another tribe, so I assumed they were wanderers." "when I heard their war cries, I knew where I get find them."
My heart was racing. Young or not, I just let a murderer walk off into the darkness. What if he kills again, I thought to myself. What if that paint-faced monster destroys more lives?
"Let me see your leg," Raven said, moving towards Red. "I can heal it for you."
"what do you mean you can heal it for me?"
"It is something I can do." "Ever since I have reached my spirit guide, I can heal wounds, mend bruises, and unbreak bones." "But I can not restore life." "My family is gone, and I am alone now." The sadness is his voice was heartbreaking.
As he was talking, he put his hands over Red's stab wound, and a faint warm glow began emanating from his hands.
We stood there, amazed at what we were seeing. This stranger in deer skin clothing just showed up when we in trouble, saved my life, and showed us something I didn't even believe Jesus Christ himself could have done.
Red began to walk around a bit, completely awe-struck that his leg was healed. If not for the hole in his pants, and the blood around it, it looked as if he had never been stabbed at all.
"Now you have seen what I can do." "I have shown you great trust, and you still have not told me your names."
"I'm Coop, he's Red."
Red then asked him, "Are you hungry?" "We still have some cooked meat here." This must be what those scavengers came for in the first place."
Raven, his voice surprisingly calm considering there was dead man at his feet, simply stated, "I can no longer eat meat." "It is part of my connection to life." "If I were to consume flesh, my gifts would go away from me." "I would like to keep warm though."
"Go ahead, make yourself comfortable" How could I be so inviting? there was still a dead body lying close to the fire. "Red, give me a hand here," I said, as I grabbed the body, and began to drag it away.
"There is no need," Raven said, grasping his tomahawk. Bones crunched, and squishing sound was heard as the blade left a gaping hole in the man's back. His spine was visible, and had nearly been split in half.
"Another one of my gifts is lying the dead to rest."
Before I could ask what that meant, he laid his hands on the body, and the glow began again. This time, however, the man's skin turned grey, and began to dissolve away, until there was nothing left but his clothes and a pile of black dust.
"Show me the others' bodies, so I can put them to rest too."
"I can't," I said. "I let him go." "He was only a boy, and I didn't know what they did to your family."
Raven's reply was serene "Then he was not fated to die this night."
"Justice will come to him, I promise you." I had to see to that myself. I denied this man his vengeance.
After he had lain the second man to rest, he returned, and sat next to the fire. From a sack he carried on his hip, he drew a small wooden tube with a round half dome shape attached to it. then he stuffed something inside, then grabbed a thin stick from our pile of firewood, and lit one end. He put the fire to the open dome shape, and sucked in.
A strange aroma immediately filled the air, and he passed the pipe to Red, who in turn lit it, and inhaled. As Red passed it to me, I wondered aloud, "What is this?"
"Naakai Binát'oh," Raven said, again in his Navajo tongue.
"And why are we smoking it?" I didnt mean to be rude, but this was all so profound. A little more than two weeks ago, I sat with the only thing my father left me, trying to end my life with it.
Raven answered me by simply laughing, to which Red joined in. As soon as i exhaled, I felt....different. I was relaxed, serene, and I felt the way Raven's voice had always sounded, despite the night's events. Peaceful. I remember Raven and Red looking at me a continuously laughing as I quietly slipped into sleep....
Morning. I sat up. The campsite had been cleaned and the fire pit covered with sand. "Red?" "Raven?"
"He's gone," said Red. "Was when I woke up, and worst of all, the horses are gone too."
Startled by the news, I immediately check for my Schofield. It was Still there, was everything else. The saddles were even here. The only thing not where I left was the pinto.
"Now What?"
To be continued..................