The Butcher and the Butterfly (18 page)

‘You are tired,
Susie. You need rest and then a good long soak in a bath.’

The girl said
nothing. His disdain for her was growing. Such a silly little girl.
Susie couldn’t believe how distant, how un-loving Stephen was
being. Without a passing glance Susie climbed off the table, walked
up the creaking stairs, through the corridor, opened the bedroom
door, the bedroom they once shared and slammed the door behind
her.

The echo of the
slam reverberated off the walls of the bar and rattled the windows
and made the old piano ring out a duff chord.

The Watchman sat
himself down at the bar on one of the high stools and listened
until his mind blotted out the sobs and whimpers of the girl that
carried his child.

7

Half an hour past
by and his time here was coming to an end. Stephen remained in his
lonesome chair listening and waiting. His body had almost shut
down, a skill he had mastered during his final years at school.
Recuperation could take days for some but for Stephen it was but a
matter of minutes.

Stephens calm was
quickly quashed as from the main door, a door which he closed
blocking the outside world, there came a hollering.

‘STEPHEN! GET OUT
HERE!’

The Watchman
recognised the voice on the other side of the door and he was
surprised to hear it.

Stephen stood and
slid the stool under the bar. With his right hand he un-holstered
Jonah. Checking the weight he had no need to load. Slowly he walked
over to the main door and softly unlocked it. Twisting the knob he
opened the door letting the sunlight fill the bar. He was not
afraid.

The Watchman
focused on the young man stood below him, the boardwalk and the
stairs separating them. Behind the young man a crowd of people,
forty to fifty but no more than that, stood hands raised with
weapons of all descriptions flaying in the wind swept road. A blood
lust had washed over the town and it was the young man in-front of
him that had caused it.

‘So, young Tommy,
you are here for revenge? I see you have brought the very people
who mock and spit at you?’

‘You killed them.
You killed Patience! You killed them all!’

The Watchman
chuckled as the crowd yelled a bunch of idle threats at him.

‘They all
deserved, especially her Tommy. She used this town and in time you
will thank me as you thanked me when I rid this place of the Quint
brothers.’

The people behind
Tommy lowered their weapons and looked about themselves. They all
knew the truth about the old woman who lived beyond the boundaries
of the town. She was tricksy and full of hate but they needed her
from time to time; when it suited their own gains or their own
evils. Mostly they knew that Rockfall was better off without
her.

Tommy knew more
however and it once again would prolong Stephens’s time in
Rockfall.

‘What about the
Sheriff. Whats about those poor kids!’

The crowd reared
up again, the weapons high. They wanted revenge

Stephen measured
the situation whilst the crowd bade for his blood and Tommy egged
them on every step of the way.

The shouting from
the crowd grew as the minutes passed without answer from the
Watchman. They all were watching him; waiting for his defence.
Waiting for him to raise the weapon and fire it. They would be upon
him like waves upon the shore and they would break him. That they
were sure of. They would break him. String him up like the
criminals of old.

Sensing a presence
behind him, Stephen focused back onto Tommy as he saw the young man
move toward him.

‘Stay away from
him, Susie. Stays away. He is evil.’

Stephen did not
turn when he spoke to the girl.

‘Go back inside,
Susie.’

She scanned the
angry crowd. She had heard what Tommy was saying. It was hard not
to. They claimed Stephen had killed John and Cathy, two people she
cared little for, but the children. She had watched them grow up.
Taught the girls how to sow and the boys how to play tricks. She
couldn’t believe Stephen was capable of such things.

‘Why did you kill
them?’ She asked quietly taking the Watchman by surprise.

‘Just go inside,
Susie.’

‘GET AWAY FROM
HIM!’

‘Why did you kill
them, Stephen?’

‘Go inside, Susie,
please.’

‘GET AWAY,
SUSIE!’

‘Why did you kill
them?’

Stephen turned and
grabbed Susie by the arms. He pushed her back through the doors and
inside the Travellers.

The crowd surged
forward and this time it was unable to stop itself. Stephen turned
to see the crowd pouring up the stairs and across the sidewalk.
Their arms were raised, their weapons; items grabbed quickly like
axes, mallets, hammers, rakes and sticks would do so much damaged
if left to do so. The Watchman ran to the main door, causing Susie
to fall to the floor, and slammed it shut locking it tight. Hands
pummelled it and he could hear them all crying out for justice.
Crying out for blood. The mob mentality was taking over now. Soon,
once all the blood had been spilt and the bodies were being counted
they would question why. The Watchman staggered back toward the
stairs almost tripping over Susie who was still lying on the
floor.

‘Why did you do
it, Stephen? I thought you were a good man. I thought you loved
me?’

Stephen turned and
faced the main door, which was fairing quite well under the
pressure. Susie began to cry again and her sobs were an annoyance
to Stephen. He was preparing himself now. Thinking of all outcomes.
Readying himself for the quickness needed to take down so many so
fast.

‘ANSWER MY FUCKING
QUESTIONS, STEPHEN!’

Stephen shook his
head. He had no need for this.

‘The truth is not
what you want Susie. But you will never give up until you have it.’
Stephen removed his gaze from the door and looked Susie straight in
the eye. He was the teacher now, not a plucky student. He was a
man, a man that could end worlds, end lives and destroy hearts.

‘So much like me
you are, Susie. Always looking for answers to question we have no
right in asking. I killed them all.’

Susie burst into
tears. She wanted to be sick. She wanted to rip out her own eyes in
fury but she had not the strength to do it.

‘Why?’ She simply
asked behind the tears and the sobs.

‘Because that is
my purpose, Susie. My King requests and I deliver. He works, we
work for a greater future one that you people will only appreciate
once the work is done.’

The thudding on
the door worsened and a few of the windows began to smash. The
crowd were not going to take a locked door to stop them.

‘What the fuck is
that supposed to mean, Stephen?’

The question fell
on deaf ears as Stephen focused his mind back onto the job at hand.
The windows had all but gone now and the door was starting to
splinter under the pressure. The people had broken through. Susie
got up quick and ran; Stephen raised Jonah and scanned the few
meters between him and the door. The killing ground was small and
the bodies would pile high making it awkward for the rest to follow
in and thus making them easy targets.

Maybe, just maybe,
Stephen would walk away today.

8

Stephens mind was
awash with thought. He had eight slugs in Jonah, a further sixteen,
that’s two reloads, in the small pouch tied to his belt. Stephen
knew he could reload fast, like a blur to the naked eye, but would
he be quick enough to reload twice with dozens of people flooding
through the door?

He would find out
quicker than he hoped, that was certain.

The Watchman
looked about him for a chance glimpse of cover but found none. He
had to hope that he could level off a good ten or more and then, if
all goes well, the others would see the blood, hear the cries of
pain and anguish, and run away as quick as their quivering legs
could carry them.

The wooden door,
with a thunderous crack, split and smashed open. Susie ran for
cover behind the wooden bar, Stephen steadied himself, raised Jonah
and aimed at the throng of people flooding in.

9

Jonah screamed
twice.

The first two men
fell, one with a burst chest the other with a hole in his right eye
both wounds gushing blood thick and fast. They did not scream as
death was instant.

Three more screams
from Jonah.

Three more fell.
This time a woman; a short lady with a mousy look and greasy brown
hair and now a split in her throat joined the two men before.
Screams could be heard now not only from one of the men who had
received a bullet in the stomach but also from the people behind
the fallen. Stephen took two steps back and adjusted his stance.
His eyes were focused on the job at hand, his hands did not shake
and his mouth was locked in a fierce grin. In his right hand,
Jonah, the weapon forged by death himself, was silent. Light shone
through the windows shining down on the dead, the blood glistening
like fresh oil.

From the corner of
his left eye Stephen spied a scurrying youth, an axe raised

BOOM!

The kid fell,
silently, his arms falling slowly to the ground, the axe slicing
into the old wooden floor like a knife in hot butter. The scent of
blood and cordite filled the Watchman’s nostrils as the Travellers
Last became a killing ground.

Jonah screamed
twice more and now time to reload. Stephen turned and headed for
the bottom of the stairs. He could sense more people trundling
through the broken door. There had to be at least twenty in the bar
room now. Susie had disappeared and Stephen had to unload another
round of slugs, maybe two before he dare venture up the stairs and
into the relative safety of the bedroom.

The Watchman
reached the bottom of the stairs in ten quick steps and in that
time eight more rounds had been added to Jonah. He was ready for
another bout of killing. Stephen turned on his heels, small dust
motes floating up and he readied himself. Legs apart, heels dug in,
right arm raised and gun firmly aimed.

The townsfolk of
Rockfall were hell bent on killing Stephen, he had never seen
anything like it. He was a newcomer to these people and still they
only needed the slightest of nudges to turn into revengeful
killers. He had killed people of this town that were best rid of.
The Quint brothers were evil, heartless bastards. John and Cathy
were only in it for the money and for fucking and the kids would
have grown up to be just the same. And as for the Sheriff; the
drunken kiddie fiddler was due for the chop a long time ago.
Stephen was glad it was him that finally rid the town of that waste
of space.

The Watchman could
see the hate in the townsfolk’s eyes now. They were full of it.
Some seemed to be crying with anger and rage. They ignored the dead
laying at their feet. They ignored the blood beneath their shoes
and the gore soaking into their dirty jeans. The women screamed and
held their pitiful weapons above their heads whilst the men shouted
obscenities and waved their mighty axes, picks, shovels and lumps
of timber.

Time was moving
slowly. Stephen could move quick, fire quicker and observe more
than these people realised. It was futile their resistance. He
would down them all. But they held out for their own hope. All they
needed was one lucky hit, one little blow and Stephen would be
theirs and his death would not be quick.

Four more deathly
screams blasted from Jonah.

Four more lay
dead. Their bodies pushed back by the force of the slugs entering
their chests. All were men, strong looking, with hands like shovels
and chins like door stops. But they fell easily. Like dead leaves
shedding from a tree.

Like a tidal wave
they still came. Bodies were piling up but were being swept aside
by the ones behind. The windows either side of the door smashed and
pieces of broken fencing flew through the gaping holes. By the
Healer these people wanted him dead. In the intense light of the
day Stephen couldn’t see past the main door. He could only guess
the numbers. Two more men came running, one held aloft a pick dirty
from the labour it had endured

BOOM!

He fell screaming
bloody murder as the bullet tore through his rib cage and exploding
out of his back. As he fell

BOOM!

the pick swung and
cleaved straight into the side of the second man. The pick tore
through releasing the man’s innards to the floor. Stephen released
another slug from the depths of Jonah but it was a wasted shot as
the bullet flew into open air the air now empty where the other man
had stood.

The bar room was
finally empty. The people running through the door had slowed as
the word of what was happening got through. From his peripheral
vision Stephen saw two men coming in through the broken windows.
The man on his right hopped through deftly and headed straight for
the Watchman whilst the man on his left cut his arms to pieces on
the shards of glass left in the frames. But still he came on.

Jonah was fired
twice more!

They fell. And now
Stephen was empty once again. This load of bullets hadn’t lasted
long at all. Barely a minute but eight more lay dead. Stephen
loaded Jonah as more pilled through the windows. There were fresh
shouts from outside as Tommy rallied the troops. The young prick
was becoming quite the General. But he was making a terrible
mistake. He was pitting peasants against one of the strongest
forces in the known world. Stephens’s position was perfect. He
could see the doorway, the windows, even the side door alongside
the main bar. Anyone coming at him would fall, as long as Jonah
kept on firing Stephen was untouchable.

Three were through
the door and posing a threat. Two of them were weaving, trying to
dodge the inevitable. They were dodging no more. The third ran in,
knife held high awaiting the swipe. Stephen aimed at the man’s
head. He wanted to level this man quick and hope his head exploded
causing fear amongst his allies. The Watchman slowly pulled the
trigger