Ashes of the Dead - Bucket of Blood Page 14
“I'm fine. Don’t worry about me. How are the others?”
“Safe. Thanks to you,” she said.
The Gunman stared into her eyes. He wanted to kiss her tender lips, but thought that it would cause too much pain, not from the wound on his side, but from the emotional toll. He smiled gently and grabbed her hand, then kissed it softly. It was all that he could muster for her at that moment. He turned away from her and unstrapped the satchel from Larken's back. He pulled out a wad of cash and shoved it into his saddlebag, then placed the satchel in front of Rose.
“What's this?” she asked.
“Payment due,” he said.
Rose cracked opened the satchel and her eyes grew wide when she saw the contents.
“For rebuilding,” he commented. “For everything that’s happened to you.”
She pulled him in and hugged him tightly, briefly resting her head against his shoulder. He caressed the small of her back with his calloused hand, and pulled her in closer for a brief moment, then kissed her on the forehead. He turned and sauntered over to the boardwalk, then sat down on the edge, beaten, broken and exhausted. Cutler sat down next to him and patted him on the back.
“Well partner…one hellava an adventure,” he said as he laughed.
“Yup,” the Gunman responded.
“We should do this again sometime.”
The Gunman laughed at this, the first laugh in a long while, and well deserved. He watched Rose while she spoke with a small group of remaining survivors in the street. Emmett came over to her and put his arm around her, holding Caleb close to his side. Although much younger than himself, the Gunman couldn’t take his gaze off of her. But he knew that his journey was far from over. The battle against the undead had been won, and now it was time for everybody to go on with their lives, to move forward and rebuild. He stared at the ground and wrestled with these thoughts. He could stay here and make a new life, but he needed to move on. He needed to be on his own.
The townspeople had started to gather the undead bodies in the center of the street, throwing them haphazardly into a large pile, with the intention of burning them as soon as possible.
“Now what?” Cutler asked the Gunman.
The Gunman sighed and continued to stare at the moist dirt at his feet, kicking a small pebble with his toe. He got up and shook Cutler's hand. Cutler nodded, acknowledging the Gunman's intentions. “I’ll see ya’ around, partner,” Cutler said.
The Gunman walked over to Rose and took her hand again. He kissed it gently one last time, then tipped his hat and smiled. “Ma'am.” He turned to walk away from her.
“I never got your name,” she told him, gently grabbing his forearm.
He paused, knowing that he hadn’t given it to anybody. “William--, William Marshall.”
Rose smiled, knowing that she might never see him again. William mounted Larken and reined her forward, then trotted toward the edge of town.
All of the townspeople gathered together to watch him leave.
“Wait! Wait!” Caleb shot out from behind the crowd and ran toward William as fast as his young legs would carry him. “Wait!”
William halted and turned to Caleb, who held up an old ragged teddy bear. “Take this with you. It will keep you safe,” he told him.
William reached down and took the bear, stared at its matted fur, and then put it in his lap. “Thanks, bud.” He smiled and tucked the teddy bear into his saddlebag, and then spurred Larken forward and rode out of town.
The blazing yellow sun blotted out the landscape and in the same way that the mysterious Gunman had entered the desert, he disappeared and faded into a strange mirage over the distant horizon.
• • •
Night had fallen and dim moonlight fell upon a cemetery, illuminating a crop of graves. Near a dead sentinel tree a cracked headstone leaned to one side, the engraving aged beyond recognition. The ground in front of the headstone trembled, then bulged and decayed fingers pierced through the soil. A rotten hand burst upward. It reached toward the sky, clawing its way to freedom.
THE END
• • •
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Jake Miller
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