Kapitel 96: A Daunting Demise
He left the ritual circle and walked through the tents, gun drawn once more. His achellets rolling around his pockets ready to be used if needed. "Pools," he whispered, "I've got to get to the pools."
It was the last place he wanted to go, but it was likely the only place he'd find water. And where there was water, there was the herd. "It'll probably be heavily guarded …" Boone watched the canyon cliffs. "A good place for riflemen to camp and take shots."
The colosseum was much bigger than he'd imagined. Boone walked north for nearly fifteen minutes, though it was slow moving, clinging to the canyon walls, head on a swivel. Eventually he made his way into a squared clearing between the walls. There he rested, allowing the shade to cool him off.
"How much further?" he wondered, plumping down on a bolder and wiping his forehead once more. Boone's garments stuck to him. Hands clammy. Suprised he hadn't bumped into one of the many gunslingers who were on the hunt. He knew they were close by. The wails of guns and explosions growing louder, all seeming to come from the direction of the pools.
Boone looked to the wall, something about it was different. Made of metal and not of stone. He leaned forward, squinting.
"Raise your hands or die, boy!" The voice was sharp as prickly cacti. He clicked back his hammer. "And drop your gun and face me." Boone's gun sunk in the sand and he turned. "Slowly!"
Boone faced a wild-eyed man, wearing garments as messy as his hair. The only thing new was the pair of W.W. revolvers that glistened in his mitts. He trodded from the south tunnel, moving in front of the gate.
"You're that boy, ain'tcha? The one Mason isn't too fond of."
"And you're a part of their gang of outlaws ..."
The man winced, laughing. "Nope. We're bounty hunters. Well, used to be ... not too sure anymore. The boss got us doin' all kinds of shit." He rubbed his stubby chin. "Outlaw does got a nice ring to it, does it not?"
"Filth is what I'd prefer to call you."
The man's wild eyes stopped, focusing on Boone. He winced, laughing, slapping a knee. "I like you, boy. Too bad I got to bring you to the boss. We've a been looking fer you." He waved his pistol. "The rest of the gang is hitched down in town. You'll be coming with me ... Leave the guns --"
The wall screeched, rising. Chains rattling. They both drew their attention towards the iron barricade. Eyebrows hightened. Ears ringing from the high shrieks inside
"What in the hell is that?"
Boone took a step back, "we best be leaving now." With the man preoccupied, the boy picked up his pistol and slid it back into its holster.
The man took a step toward the wall, scratching his head. "Let's see what's inside ... could be useful."
"I doubt that ..."
"Come on." The man heckled, waving his gun. "What're you scared?"
The gate popped and locked.
He leaned forward, staring into the blackened breach. There came a rustle then the slap of feet, growing louder and louder. The canyon vibrated. Loose dirt and stones falling.
The man squinted, raising his revolver. "Come. Show your ugly face."
Boone held his breath. Eyes locked on the breach. Run you fool ... Run.
He took one step back, the man one step forward. The heinous screams and pounding feet--
The canyon grew silent.
Suddenly, a ragged silhouette dissolved from the shadows. Limbs twisted. Legs tweaked. Head corked. Around his face, the skin was black and flaking, eyes black as oil. It stuttered and jerked, walking forward. Once a man, now something else.
"Damn! Even uglier than I thought."
Wildeyes gun wailed and flared. Gore tore from the creature's shoulder. It took another step. Boone took three steps back. Wildeyes shot again, missing. The bullet hissed into the breach, hitting something soft and goopy. The revolvers flared two more times, eating flesh. The creature stepped forward, screeching.
Wildeyes looked down at the revolvers, "pieces of shit ..." They sunk in the sand and he withdrew a blade from his hip, tossing it between hands. "Come. Show me what you've got."
Boone whispered, "don't. Leave it be."
The creature stopped. Head jerking from shoulder to shoulder. It screeched. Wildeyes smirked, raising the blade in his hand. "You scared too? Fine. I'll come to you!" He twirled the blade then charged.
Twenty paces away. Fifteen paces away. Ten paces away.
The creatures back arched then chest slung forward. Oil-like liquid streamed through its lips. A direct hit. Wildeyes screamed, face smoking. The smell of melting flesh finding Boone's nose. Wildeyes collapsed, motionless. Face gone, replaced by a black mold.
Bones cracked and popped, the creature raised its chin. It expelled a low, rumbling moan. From inside the breach, a dozen silhouettes appeared, distorted as the first. They turned their eyes on Boone then shrieked.
His heart tumbled. Boone turned and faced north. His legs churning without a sense of direction. He raced down a narrow passageway. Heinous shrieks echoed in pursuit. The earth vibrating with the stampede behind him.
Boone's hand dived into his pocket, fiddling with the achellets. One revealed itself, glowing black as embers. "I don't even know what these do ... " He hopped over a rock. The achellet bobbed, floated freely, then vanished into sand. "Dagnabbit!"
The path winded and twisted, ascended and descended, a trail with no end. The creatures appearing and vanishing as the boy darted around each corner. His legs screaming.
I can't keep this pace much longer ...
Suddenly he was jerked to the left, slipping through a crack. A large, hairy hand tight around his mouth.
Blurs zipped past his hiding place; the creatures now pursuing a phantom.
Once the heinous shrieks and thunderous steps faded, the hand slipped his lips. Boone gasped, drawing his gun on his rescuer.
"Is that how you repay a man, Laddy?" Grotknot smirked, eyes twinkling.
"Grotknot!" Boone swung his arms around the man. And though sweat clung to his leather, and he smelled like a pig, the boy gave a good squeeze.
Grotknot patted his chest. "There ... there, Laddy. You're safe for now."
"Where did you come from?"
Grotknot guffawed, "I was doing me best to avoid them slithery folk. I told Jostice not to trust them yellow-bellies -- seems scaleface still wants my beard."
They chuckled.
"Good thing you've gave them the slip."
Grotknot nodded, hair waving everywhere. "Indeed. Had to suck in a bit to get through the gap, but it looks like the beer hasn't completely fattened me." They chuckled. Grotknot pushed the boy back, giving him a canteen. "Stay put ... I'll check to see if the coast is clear ... You wet them lips." Boone nodded, drinking slowly and sparingly.
With much effort, Grotknot squeezed through the crack, only getting stuck twice which was good for the beer-bellied man. He looked up and down the paths then smiled. "Looks like we've got a clear path--"
A wail echoed through the canyon. Blood and chunks painted the wall. Grotknow dropped.
Boone lowered the canteen, water draining from his lips. He looked upon the hairy man, staring blankly upon him.
A moment later, two large men stood over the body. Their hats made of snake skin wrapped in fanged bands.
"Apologies from Mr. Scaleface," said a deep voice. The men hissed with laughter.
The shorter of the two peaked through the crack; an eye greenish-brown as swamp mud. He shrieked, "what about the boy?"
Boone trembled, hands shaking.
The large man shrugged. "Leave him be ... His fate is worse than his companions."
Their laughter faded down the canyon path while Boone sat on his knees weeping.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein