Here’s a new short story staring the sci-fi gunslinger, Jonas Stone. I truly wish I didn’t have to make these longer stories, mulit-part, but such is my schedule. Anyways, enjoy. For more Jonas Stone, check out my earlier post. Check out my other fiction, at somefiction.tumblr.com
Jonas Stone stayed at Willow’s Creek for a time. It was a quiet, dusty sort of town, named after a tributary that never existed. Water was rare in that desert and the people felt the burden of the heat everyday. Jonas arrived at the height of the dry season.
“You ever been in a drought like this?” An old man sat on a front porch stretching out a piece of leather.
Jonas turned around. “My homeland was a dry place,” he said. “It never was this hot, though.”
The old man chuckled, it was a deep, cackling sound. “Get used to it. The suns of this world will bake a cow in its own skin.”
“Speaking of, where did you get that leather? I saw no cattle when I rode in.”
“There are none no more,” the old man said. “Used to be a climate-controlled ranch about ten miles yonder. Bandits took it though. Destroyed the ranch, scattered the animals, and killed the family. This was the last of the cattle. I found it a few paces west of town. Pour thing was almost picked clean.”
“Bandits attacked the ranch?” Jonas said. “What for?”
The old man stopped and thought. “I’m not sure. Usually its rustlers who go after ranches. They swoop in and steal all the cattle—put them in refrigerated ships—and disappear. Mighty queer these bandits didn’t do the same.” He hummed and when back to this leather.
“Bandits don’t attack for no reason. There must have been something they were after.”
“The Peabody’s were wealthy, of course,” the old man said. “I heard they kept all their coin at the ranch. They didn’t bother with the bank. But they paid generously for an armed gunman to watch the ranch.”
“Where was this gunman when the ranch fell?”
“Hmm, he must have been killed,” the old man said. “Say you’re mighty inquisitive. Why don’t you just go see the ranch for yourself? Its north of town.”
“I just might do that.”
More coming tomorrow…