Separate names with a comma.
Discussion in 'Archive' started by Bretimus_v2, Jul 2, 2012.
Just like in a video game, check everywhere possible before leaving the damn place, lol.
The front door.
Bret, was that making a scene or making a speech, both?
Making a scene involved frothing at the mouth and breaking shit.
Page 36, A View Worth Killing For
Luke started to head for the front. The well-lit main street appeared clear. But there was an itch in the back of his mind. A subtle uncomfortableness. He stepped out of the doorway and pressed against the wall. No matter how many times he told himself how clear it was, that itch remained. So he turned.
The backdoor led to the unlit alley. But the lack of windows made him feel even more skittish. He toyed with the idea of taking a quick peek, but something told him it was not the right thing to do.
One choice. Two unreliable exits. Three bastards to kill. Four men scrambling to finish what was started. But still...only one choice.
It him then. The rope. He could get down from the balcony. So he ran over to the stairs and headed up. The saloon had an exterior balcony that ran along the street. Luke quickly opened the door and escaped into the dark night. From his vantage point he could see most of the town. Herman's store, Brown's blacksmith...all quiet and dark, save for the lamps lit in front.
Check the alley behind the saloon, page 18.
Scan the rooftops, page 23.
Wait, page 30.
Scan the rooftops, batman style.
Can't argue with Emilio. Wait.
Senor Estevez says wait and so do I.
Page 30, Intermission
"I'm glad we talked," she said, "I've never told anyone any of that."
Luke smiled kindly and waved as she left. She was like a vein of gold in a mountain of dirt. To a certain extent she was one of the reasons Luke had stuck around the area. Lord knew few others seemed to care for his presence in the town. But she was different, and he always looked forward to the time she spent with him.
But the things she'd told him today. These weren't the normal topics of past conversations: small talk, worries, dreams. The things he had just heard were dark and they weren't indefinite things in the future. They had happened.
To a certain extent Luke didn't know what to do with this new found knowledge, but one thing was clear. Those men had committed a terrible act. They were monsters, and monsters needed to be approached carefully.
"Listen, Luke," the dark-haired man chuckled, "I see what you're getting at."
Luke brushed the man's hand off his shoulder.
"You're just mad we got to her first," he said with a greasy smile.
Luke felt his stomach turn. "That's not at all what I was getting at!"
"Well, then, what is it," questioned Ross, "because me and the boys have other things that need tending to. We don't have all day to dally like housewives with ya'."
Ross uncrossed his legs and stood. He was tall and lean...and menacing. The guns on his hips didn't do much to dispell that assessment. But he didn't scare Luke. Luke's voice didn't even waver as he levied his accusations.
Groggily, Luke came to. He was slumped against a wall on the saloon balcony. It took a moment for him to remember huddling in a good vantage spot and waiting. He must've passed out.
His ear followed the sound. Down below on the boardwalk was the dark-haired man. Luke had been around the town for more than a year and he had never heard the man's actual name. In fact, noone seemed to ever use it. Everyone just called him "Rabbit".
Rabbit was slowly making his way towards the saloon. He was cautiously looking in the shadowy shop windows and down the dark side alleys. Each shadow quickly brought into his shotgun's sights. His hands were shaking, he smelled of nervousness.
Quietly, Luke made his way to the balcony railing above Rabbit's patrol. This was as good an opportunity as any.
Gun, page 80.
Rope, page 59.
Flying tackle, page 4.
Rope! Always rope.
Also, you are really good at creative writing. Damn.
Sadly, this last section took me forever to figure out. I was kinda hoping noone would pick "wait".
ROPE THAT MOTHER FUCKER!
Page 59, Snared
Luke started to uncoil the rope at his feet. It looked like he had about 30 feet of rope and it was a little under a twenty foot drop to get to the ground. He quietly crept onto the small width of awning on the other side of the balcony rail. As he did so, he looped the rope around the banister checking to make sure that the banister was sturdy. It was.
Then he waited. One thing repeated in his min: "Don't look up." The nervousness brought sweat to his brow...and his shoulders. Pain erupted on the top portion of his mauled back. Punishing him as he lay in wait.
Finally Rabbit stepped in range. If Rabbit looked up, it would save the man's life and the ensuing shotgun blast would end Luke's. But Luke threw caution to the wind and rose, spinning the lasso above his head. He was determined to see it through. Good or bad. He threw the lasso...and his aim was true. The loop landed around Rabbit's head. The man yelped in surprise, following the rope back to it's origin. It found Luke. Standing in the dark night, he looked like a wraith. And everybody knows, wraiths fly. Luke leapt toward Rabbit, rope tied around his wrist, and as he fell Rabbit rose. There was no shriek, no warning given to the others. The loop tightened around the man's neck and the only sounds were the chunk of the shotgun hitting the ground and the rope sliding against the banister as the two men traded elevations.
Luke's feet hit the ground and he had to fight to keep his balance. The blood loss had made him dizzy and the drop didn't help matters. His extra weight kept the man dangling. But just to make sure Luke made his way to a hitching post and tied the rope off. All the while, Rabbit's legs kicked and his body spasmed. Soft sputters accompanying the quiet knot tying. Luke looked up in time to see the end. Even in the dark he could see the man's bulging eyeballs. Luke averted his eyes.
This was the first life he had ever taken. He felt it proper to take a moment even for a wretch like this.
A shot rang out from across the street.
Take cover, page 18.
Grab the shotgun, page 24.
Return fire, page 32.