Fateful Vendetta
For days, I've been traveling across the vast desert, void of any company except that of Carolina. She kept strong through the distance and firm in the deadly heat. At times, I would let my shoes dig into the sand and hold her as I lead the way, but at other times, my legs would not carry me for long distances.
I press my hat on my head and pull the scarf a twitch more above my nose as the sandstorm pays us a visit. The weather did not take our side today, and Carolina has been struggling to resist the force of the dusty storm.
I have been sent here on a mission, a quest, to take the life of one certain fugitive by the name of Hawk. He'd betrayed our league in the past and had disappeared since then. I've been assigned to find him and send him to his grave for punishment although one who defies the laws of the country is not to be buried with honor after his death.
Carolina slows down and makes a grunting noise. I rub her neck in circles and murmur to her soothingly, "Just a little more, girl."
ٍSeveral hours later, we meet an oasis, which felt like paradise in this heat. I unmount Carolina and lead her to the sparkly water. We spent the night under the shade until the next day.
Carolina was fidgeting in my bag when I woke up. I figured she was hungry since last night and brought out some red apples. As she munched on her breakfast, I had mine—rye bread with some berries I gathered earlier—then took a nice soak in the warm water. Later we took off to a small isolated village in the middle of the desert.
The village was small with not so many settlers. I tied Carolina outside a local bar before stepping inside. I was welcomed by the aroma of whiskey and cigarettes. The place definitely screamed outlaws, who were drinking and smoking on old tables as they played cards. I brought my scarf down to uncover my face. The men look me down while I walk to the bar, where the bartender stood there wiping glasses.
He was chewing some weed when he spits it out to ask, "can I help you?"
"Yes, actually," I start, bringing out the picture from under my cape. "Tell me where to find this man."
It took him just one look at the picture to realize who he is, yet he denied it directly. "Never saw 'em."
"Well, take a good look again," I say.
"Told ya, man, never saw 'em," he leans against the bar table, "Do I get ya a drink?"
He was clearly hiding something. It was evident that he knew who Hawk is and probably his whereabouts. He just wouldn't say, and I had to get it out of him in my way.
I turn in my seat to the men scattered in the bar and put the picture in their view. Most of them had the same expression the bartender had; most of them were familiar with the man in the picture. Still, no one dared speak a word of it.
I sigh and reach for my pistol, but at least 100 guns and knives pointed at me instead. Alarmed, I froze in my place then rose my hands in surrender.
"How do you know Hawk?" The bartender asks from behind me. "You a friend of Hawk?"
"Yes," I hesitate.
"That was a trick question," I can hear the mischievous smile as he talks bitterly, "Hawk has no friends."
I smirk to myself, and the buff men start giving me weird looks. I thought this would happen, so I came prepared. I insert my hand under my leather vest, causing the men to stand more alerted. I slowly bring the bag out to show them what I've got, earning myself several wide-eyed expressions.
"Gold," I declare.
The bartender picks the bag from the ground. "How much?"
"I have enough to last you at least 5 years of luxury," I whisper, seeing his face lighting up at the tempting deal that I'm offering.
"Follow me," he walks to a back room in the bar, and I follow him as I was told. He leads me down a dark basement, where the steps creaked and the paint peeled off. It was a storage room filled with barrels over barrels of wine and cheap whiskey.
"How do you know Hawk?" He asks, leaning against one of the barrels.
"We have some unfinished business between us," I answer vaguely. "Now, tell me where to find him."
His eyes look at something behind me, and I look to see what it was. Up the stairs, right through the cracks in the door, we can see figures moving and shuffling around. The men were eavesdropping.
The man motions his head towards a small door behind him, and we walk out of it and into the bright, sunlit field.
"Bastards think I'm stupid," he spits. "Give me the gold and I'll talk."
I don't trust him one bit, but I've got no choice. I came to find a man, and he's the only one who knows of his whereabouts. I walk around the building to Carolina and grab the heavy bag that I've brought here, expecting something of that sort to happen. I carry it over my back and return back to the spot behind the bar, where the bartender stood there waiting.
"The name's Danielle," he snatches the back from my grasp and opens it aggressively.
"Eric Richards," I reply.
After he assures himself that the gold is real and enough for his greedy ass, he finally starts to speak up. He describes a place beyond the village and deeper on the western side of the dessert. He tells me Hawk moves a lot, but the last place he'd traveled to was there.
I take Carolina and move out of the village. It was starting to get dimmer and the hot air was replaced by the chilly weather. It gets so dark that the only light came from the illuminating moon, which looked bigger than normal today.
When we get further to the western part of the vast desert, I see something far from my sight that looked like the remains of a temple of some sort. I see a horse standing outside it, shuffling around in its place.
"Move, girl," I rub Carolina's neck to move faster. I felt my mission coming to an end as I move closer to the place. Hawk must be in there, I'm positive. I get down on the soft sand and rush my feet to the horse to check it. It grunts and turns away from me. I walk away from it and enter the temple-like place.
I heard rough, strong coughs that sounded high and piercing. I follow the sound till I come to meet the back of a man. He was fetching something from the ground, unaware of my presence.
"Hawk," I call for him, and my uncertainty was justified when he stops what he's doing and stands up straight in alarm. He turns around slowly to face me.
"Who are you?" He asks.
"It doesn't matter," I get out my pistol. "Just know that I'm here to send you to your grave, you traitor."
"Travis sent ya. didn't he?"
"You're going to die, rat," I say bitterly.
"Don't you even want to know the truth, first?" He asks with a mischievous smile stretched across his face. I know he was trying to distract me, but I couldn't help myself get hooked on this question. He notices my interest and starts to talk, "I didn't just simply betray Travis."
"What do you mean? You left the league," I retort, still pointing my gun at him.
"That league killed my wife and my son!" He says loudly. "It happened 25 years ago. I lost them both because of Travis and that fucking league. Eric was only a few months then."
I frown at the sound of the name. It must be a coincidence, I think.
"Don't think you'll fool me, Hawk," I hold my gun higher, aiming for his head.
"My name isn't really Hawk, you know?" He doesn't look the least bit threatened by the gun, or intimidated by me. It's like he knew this day would come and was waiting for it expectedly. "It's Elijah Richards."
My eyes widen in shock. And in the mere moments that I was taken off guard, He kicks my hand, and the rifle goes flying away. He twists my hand to my back, and he places his other hand around me to hold me tightly in place.
"My name is Eric Richards," I say, struggling to free myself of his grip. He lets go and looks into my eyes in confusion. I walk away from him slowly, giving him the chance to take it all in.
"Eric," he whispers.
In one swift movement, I lift the gun from where it lay on the floor and pull the trigger without any more hesitation.
872Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6vAZqjptF6
I have been sent here on a mission, a quest, to take the life of one certain fugitive by the name of Hawk. He'd betrayed our league in the past and had disappeared since then. I've been assigned to find him and send him to his grave for punishment. And although one who defies the laws of the country is not to be buried with honor after his death, I buried my father's corpse and read him some prayers.
872Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUHsdIuQDvq
