Fate

A Story by spideyboss

Five different stories, each with their own genre. They all affect each other in different ways. It is meant to show how our simple actions can affect everyone else. Please take this survey.

Lance Giuliano

Realistic Fiction

I stood at the bus stop as the big yellow hearse pulled up. I let out a big sigh and adjusted my backpack as the doors swung open. I stepped on to the bus and made my way to the back. The bus was fairly empty, which shocked me. Guess lots of things about this small town would shock me.

I flopped down in an empty seat in the back and sunk into thought. I remembered the last thing my mother said before I left for school. “Remember, you are the great great great, so on so forth, grandson of Butch Wallace. Butch Wallace is a hero to this small town. He’s the closest thing they have to a movie star, so remember, they may hound you like one.”

I rolled my eyes and prepared for a long day.

I flopped down in my assigned seat in my first class of the day, history. Fun. I closed my eyes and drifted back into thought as the teacher went through attendance. Butch twirled his pencil as he waited for the W’s to be called.

“Butch Wallace.”

I snapped awake. “Here.”

The teacher set her clipboard down. “Are you perhaps, related to the Butch Wallace of our town?”

I gave a slow nod. “Yes.”

The teacher smiled like she just won the lottery. “I don’t believe it. Your relative is a treasure to this town.”

Butch smiled humorlessly. “I know.”

The teacher clapped with excitement. “This is great.”

“Yep,” Butch agreed.

The other students looked ready to kill him.

I sat down at the lunch table, alone. I slowly gazed around the lunchroom. Everybody shot me funny or menacing looks. I stared down in my lunch and tried to ignore everybody else. I took a bite of sandwich, and a tray slammed down next to me. It was a girl.

I held my breath and tried not to do anything stupid. She stuck her hand out. “Hi. My name is Marissa. Heard you were Butch’s relative.”

I slowly shook her hand. I was in shock. “You heard right.”

She smiled. “That’s cool.”

I shrugged. “I guess so.”

“I wish I was related to someone famous.”

I shrugged. “Not necessarily. It means you’re stuck in their shadow.”

She looked surprised. “That’s when you have to break free. Show how you can be just as good as your relative. You make sure people won’t see you in their shadow. You do something so great that they would be stupid to ignore you.”

I sat there stunned. I was at a loss for words. “I think you just gave me a new life goal,” I chuckled.

I threw open my door and strolled into my house. I slammed my backpack down and rubbed my temples. It was a rough day. I sat down on the couch and propped my feet up. Then, my mother strolled in, with that face moms tend to have.

“What know?” I groaned.

“I got you a job,” Mom grinned.

“What kind of job?” I sighed.

“A job at a local science lab.”

My face lit up. “That’s great! When can I go?” This was my chance to leave the shadow.

“Now.”

I walked into the lab and looked around. It was empty. There was a lone door in front of me. Suddenly, it slammed open and a crazy looking old man came flying out. His hair head stood on end, and he wore a disheveled white lab coat. The man looked around and his gaze settled on me. “You must be Butch,” he grinned. He shook my hand wildly. “I’m very excited to work with you.

I followed him through the door and to the left into a lab with a large machine. “I’m Dr. Lloyd by the way,” he said as he set his papers down.

I held out a shaky finger. “What’s that?” I said pointing at the machine.

“That,” he chuckled. “Is my time machine.”

About a week later, I sat in the lab again. I was waiting for Lloyd to arrive. We needed to hurry up with this time machine crap. I had a date with Marissa at the Butch Wallace museum in the “downtown.”

I held my phone and played a game on it. Angry birds. It was old, but still kinda fun. Lloyd then flew into the room. “You’re a little late today,” I remarked.

Lloyd nodded causing his frizzy white hair to bob wildly. “I was caught up in my notes.”

I gave an amused nod. “So what are the plans for today?”

“We are going to use that part we got in the mail to finish our time machine,” Lloyd grinned.

“What part,” I asked.

Lloyd froze, “It should have arrived this morning.”

I slowly shook my head, “We didn’t get a part.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes I just checked.”

Lloyd sighed, “I guess I’ll have to drive over there and get it.”

I nodded in agreement. “Would you like me to come along?”

Lloyd contemplated this. “No. You should stay here. Hold down the fort. My partner isn’t here today.”

I nodded again, “Gotcha.”

I leaned back and let out a groan. This was going to take forever. I guess this meant more angry birds.

Lloyd walked into the room and cleared his throat. I snapped to attention. “S’up boss,” I called.

“Eric will be watching us finish,” Lloyd sighed.

I furrowed my brows. “Who the hell is Eric?”

“Language young man,” Lloyd frowned.

“Sorry Dr. Anderson.”

“He’s the man who gave me the part. He wanted to see what it’s being used for.”

I gave a smile and nodded. He handed me a part. “You know where this goes.”

I spun to the machine and opened a panel. I pulled a handful of wires out and cleared the space to two plugs. I placed the part inside the machine and plugged the plug, one in each end.

I moved the wires back and put the cover back on. I spun and yelled, “Done.”

“Give me the necklace,” he responded.

I gave a light underhand toss to him and he put the necklace.

He turned to me, “Would you like to come?” he asked.

“Actually, Dr. Anderson, I was about to ask if I could leave. My mom wants me home,” I responded.

Lloyd looked at the ground, “I suppose.”

I quickly darted out. I felt bad about lying but I needed to make it to the date. I was almost late. I left the building and sprinted across street to the “downtown.”

I ducked into the museum, paid the admission, and looked around. It was empty. Damn it. Was I late? I checked my phone. No. Maybe she was in the bathroom. I decided to wait there.

I wandered from exhibit to exhibit, soaking it all in. I continued shuffling, but ran into somebody. “Sorry guys, wasn’t paying attention,” I said.

“No it’s alright buddy,” one man smiled. “We weren’t paying attention either.”

“What brings you guys here?”

“We are police in these parts. We are investigating a murder in the town,” he said.

“Very fun.”

“Yeah sure. What’s your name?”

“Butch Wallace.”

“Like the Butch Wallace,” he chuckled gesturing around him at the museum.

“Yes. I am his great great great great, so on so for, grandson.”

“That’s crazy,” the other one laughed sticking his hand out awkwardly for a handshake.

I shook it. “What are your names?”

“I’m David Williams, this is Humphrey Spade.”

“So what’s this murder about?” I asked. “I’ve been told I’m good at problem solving. Maybe I can lend a hand.”

“I’m sure the relative of Butch Wallace can lend a hand,” Humphrey smiled, once again awkwardly.

“I’m sorry he’s fanboying,” David groaned. “Butch Wallace is an icon here.”

“I know,” I smiled.

“We really shouldn’t be telling you this. But this murder is weird so we’ll give it a shot,” David said. “There was a man found shot twice in the stomach dead. There was someone else’s blood on the scene as well. Both still had wallets, phones, and other valuables. We couldn’t find out whose. We talked to his wife, and he had no enemies, and no criminal record. All signs point to this being a random crime.”

I frowned and crossed my arms. I walked over to the nearest exhibit and leaned on the railing around it. I glanced at the sign and skimmed over it. I spun back to the cops and stuck my finger. “This sounds suspiciously like that story there,” I said.

David and Humphrey ran to the sign and read, side by side. “This does,” David gasped. “We need to find out who this other guy was, and check local hospitals.”

Humphrey stuck a finger up. “Wait,” he mumbled. “Why wouldn’t we be alerted about this if this guy was taken to the hospital?”

David paused. “Good question. If we find this guy, we will get some answers.”

Humphrey pulled his phone out. “Betty should know who her husband was with.”

Humphrey talked to her for about five minutes, and then hung up. “She said Jerome was with a Quentin Jones.”

David began calling nearby hospitals. After three calls he came up with results. “He’s at St. John’s Hospital. We need to go now.” He spun to me. “Thanks for the help.” And then they were gone.

As if on cue, Marissa taped me on the shoulder. “What’s that about?” she asked. “You under arrest.”

I slowly turned to her. “I think I just solved a murder.”

“You did not!” She gushed.

“I guess we will find out later.”

Marissa smiled. “So what do you think?”

“It just reminds me of how I’ve yet to do anything,” I frowned looking at my feet.

She grabbed my arm. “Stop thinking like that. You are you. Not your dumb relative. So forget about him. You might be Butch Wallace, but you are not this Butch Wallace,” she gestured wildly. “You can do your own great things, nothing can stop you but yourself. Hell, you might’ve just solved the only murder in this town in the last 7 years. You might not mean something to everybody now, but if you actually try and quit moping about your relative, you can.”

I had no response to this. I slowly looked at her. “You want to see the time machine I might’ve help build?”

Science Fiction

Lloyd pulled his car into his workplace. He hopped out of the car and practically sprinted into the building despite his age.

He was very excited to start working. He had come across an exciting breakthrough. He was close to discovering the secret of time travel.

He rushed through the building and stopped in his workshop. His assistant, Butch, was already there, waiting.

“You’re a little late today,” Butch remarked.

Lloyd nodded causing his frizzy white hair to bob wildly. “I was caught up in my notes.”

Butch gave an amused nod. “So what are the plans for today?”

“We are going to use that part we got in the mail to finish our time machine,” Lloyd grinned.

“What part,” Butch asked.

Lloyd froze, “It should have arrived this morning.”

Butch slowly shook his head, “We didn’t get a part.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes I just checked.”

Lloyd sighed, “I guess I’ll have to drive over there and get it.”

Butch nodded in agreement. “Would you like me to come along?”

Lloyd contemplated this. “No. You should stay here. Hold down the fort. My partner isn’t here today.”

Butch nodded, “Gotcha.”

Lloyd was speeding through town, in a hurry to reach his destination. He passed other cars frequently angering many other drivers.

He was on the phone with the company, debating about the missing part. They insisted Lloyd lost it, but he knew they still had it.

Both of these contributed to risky driving. He was going much too fat, and was distracted with the call he had.

As a result, he sped through a red light and hit a man crossing the street. The man survived, but suffered 4 broken ribs and a fractured wrist. This was another inconvenience to Lloyd. It just slowed him down. Having to fill out the paperwork, dealing with police, and the point on his driving record.

Lloyd pulled into the parking lot of the part manufacturer, filled with frustration. He walked into the building, thinking about how wrong this could go.

He marched to the secretary. “Appointment for Lloyd,” he sighed.

She looked over her glasses at him. “Have a seat,” she growled.

Lloyd flopped down in a seat and began flipping through one of the mindless magazines they had. Thumbing through it made his head hurt. All of the advertisements and articles about famous people he didn’t like or care about added to his frustration.

Two and a half magazines later, a man came to see Lloyd. It was the man he spoke to over the phone; Eric.

“Hello Lloyd,” he said with fake cheer.

“Hello Eric,” he said with real anger.

“It turns out somebody found your part,” Eric explained with a fake smile. “It’s your lucky day.”

“Lucky? I paid for it you moron.”

Eric’s smile faded. “I’m sorry sir, but there was a mix up.”

“More like a scam.”

“Just out of curiosity, what is that part being used for? Because combined with other parts it could make some weapons and machines that are illegal.”

Lloyd looked at his feet. “It’s none of your business.”

Eric rolled his eyes and gave Lloyd a snarky look. “Yes it is my business, because I don’t want my part used for mass destruction and chaos.”

Lloyd clenched his teeth. “I’m leaving here with the part. I already paid for it so therefore it is mine.”

“I can give you a refund,” he said with a smirk.

Lloyd’s eyes narrowed, “I will get that part even if I have to steal it.”

Eric backed away in mock surprise. “Mr. Anderson, is that a threat?”

“Test me and you’ll find out.”

Eric darted forward and grabbed Lloyd by the shirt. “You think you can come in here and threaten me in my office? I’ll show you, you crazy old man. I’ll make sure no part dealer within a 1,000 mile radius will even talk to you. You have no idea who you are messing with.”

Eric lightly shoved him away, “Goodbye, Mr. Anderson.”

Lloyd didn’t leave. “I still want a refund,” he said.

Eric shook his head. “You came in here, guns blazing. I only defended myself. I’ll give you half at most. You’ve wasted my time.”

Lloyd hung his head. “Look I’m sorry. I’ve had a bit of a rough day. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Eric contemplated for a few seconds. “Oh alright. I’ll give you the part. But, I get to see what you’ve been working on.”

Lloyd ran a hand through his mad scientist hair. “If that gets me the part then fine.”

Lloyd pulled into the parking lot to his lab. Eric sat in the passenger seat, arms folded. Lloyd led him through the building. Butch sat in the lab, playing on his phone.

Lloyd walked into the room and cleared his throat. Butch snapped to attention. “S’up boss,” he called.

“Eric will be watching us finish,” Lloyd sighed.

Butch furrowed his brows. “Who the hell is Eric?”

“Language young man,” Lloyd frowned.

“Sorry Dr. Anderson.”

“He’s the man who gave me the part. He wanted to see what it’s being used for.”

Butch gave a half smile and waved. Lloyd gave the part to Butch and said, “You know where this goes.”

While Butch was working, Eric leaned over, “So what is this.”

“It’s a time machine,” Lloyd whispered back.

Eric threw his head back and laughed. “You’re funny Mr. Anderson.”

“It’s Dr. Anderson.”

“They don’t give out doctorates for lying,” Eric continued cracking up.

“Done,” Butch yelled.

Lloyd said a quick thank you prayer. “Give me the necklace,” he told Butch.

Butch tossed it and Lloyd caught it as if it were rehearsed. He slipped the golden necklace around his neck and twisted a chain link. He walked over to a control panel and typed in a command. He flipped a couple of switches and pushed a button.

He turned to Butch, “Would you like to come?” he asked.

“Actually, Dr. Anderson, I was about to ask if I could leave. My mom wants me home, “He responded.

Lloyd looked at the ground, “I suppose.”

Butch quickly darted out. Lloyd pressed the go button and he was gone without a word.

Lloyd was standing in the place he always wanted to go. The days of Butch Wallace. The sand crackled beneath his feet and he inhaled the clean air.

He was suddenly knocked sideways by a speeding horse. He lay on the ground for a few seconds. A pair of horses clip clopped up next to him and the riders stared over him.

“Howdy,” the one said.

“Fella, have you seen another fella on speeding horses come through here,” the other said.

Lloyd nodded.

“Where did he go?”

Lloyd raised a shaky finger and pointed to a cluster of rocks the men sped off towards.

The man nodded. “Well thanks partner.”

“Strange fella,” the other said.

Lloyd raised himself to his feet. He needed to come back when he was better equipped. He also had to get Eric out of the lab.

He warped back to his lab, and it was empty. He glanced around. Eric must’ve left. Lloyd came back to the machine in period clothes, six shooters and all. He booted the machine up and looked at the log.

There was a trip to the Jurassic Period while he was gone. It was Eric.

Looks like he would still need his guns. He walked to the machine and fired it up. He sighed and began his trip.

He suddenly reappeared in a jungle. But, it was unlike any jungle you would see today. It had trees growing to the skies and large insects flying around everywhere.

He heard loud thudding sounds, and deep down knew it was a large dinosaur, maybe even a T-rex. This urged him to move.

From where he was he couldn’t see Eric though. He saw a mountain not too far and decided to go there to scout out the area.

The forest seemed endless. He had marched for miles on end and still came up with nothing. He was moving along just fine when a dinosaur darted out in front of him.

His hand snapped to his pistol, but he paused. It was a velociraptor. They traveled and hunted in packs. That means he was probably surrounded by hidden raptors.

He couldn’t fire that would startle the others, causing them to attack. He glanced around. He saw five raptors. He had six shots, two guns, twelve total.

They had razor sharp claws. They could move up to 40 mph. Lloyd needed to be quick. The velociraptors advanced slowly. Lloyd made his move. He pulled his pistols out and began firing.

His guns snapped from target to target. He fired until he heard the clicks of empty chambers. He holstered his weapons and saw 5 dead raptors. He gave a quick nod, and continued trekking.

Lloyd sat on the side of the mountain, soaking in the view. He scanned near and far, looking for any signs of life. He finally spotted a tower of smoke pluming into the air and settled on that. It was either a camp fire, or a forest fire. He’d take his chances. Get busy living, or get busy dying. He headed back into the forest.

When he emerged from the forest, he stumbled upon the plain Eric was at. Eric saw him and his jaw dropped. “Mr. Anderson. You’re here.”

Lloyd nodded slowly. “We need to leave now.”

“Well,” Eric sighed. “I lost my necklace teleporter by a T-rex nest.”

Lloyd didn’t say anything.

They quickly arrived at the nest. There were three nests filled with eggs and three corresponding T-rexes.

Eric shook his head. “I won’t do it.”

Lloyd shrugged, “Then you aren’t getting home.”

Eric frowned, “Fine.”

Eric took a shaky breath and charged. He creamed loudly and fired Lloyd’s one revolver straight into the air. The T-Rexes snapped awake and began chasing him. Eric ran into the forest and 2 T-Rexes followed.

Lloyd ran to the nest with the necklace and picked it up. He smiled and nodded. The ground rumbled beneath Lloyd and he sun to see the third Rex.

Lloyd quickly drew his gun and unloaded into its head. Bullets tore through the scaly flesh and blood rained down on Lloyd. The T-Rex wobbled, and fell to the ground with an Earth rumbling thud.

Lloyd looked and saw Eric sprinting back. Lloyd held the necklace out like a baton, and Eric snagged it. The two sprinted side by side. “Hit the gem!” Lloyd cried.

Eric gave a quick nod, and soon both of them were back in the present.

Eric looked around the lab. He took a deep breath, and fainted.

Lloyd smiled. It was all the fun he had.

Personal Project: Thriller

John jolted awake in the hospital bed. He slowly and deliberately scanned the room. It was a standard hospital room. One bed with a few machines scattered around. John had no clue why he was there. He looked down at himself and saw his left arm in a cast and bandages around his ribs.

John sat up, but felt a searing pain in his abdomen. Must be broken ribs. He shifted to a more comfortable spot, and laid back. He took a deep breath and looked at his clock. It was 7 o’clock at night. His stomach growled.

John sat back up. He glanced around the room looking for food, but came up empty handed. Then, he heard the squeaking of a cart, and a nurse appeared through the door with a cart of food. He must’ve looked famished because the nurse said, “Little bit hungry?”

John gave a quick nod and reached for the plate with his good hand. He snatched it out of the nurse’s hand and began to scarf it down. The nurse gave an amused smile, “I’m gonna run some quick tests to make sure everything is all right.

John paused to ask a question. “Why am I here?”

“You don’t remember?” the nurse frowned.

John nodded his head slowly.

“You were hit by a speeding car. It was crazy looking old guy on a cell phone. He left a card and some flowers over there,” The nurse gestured.

John gave a smile, “At least he’s considerate.”

The nurse chuckled, “Are you gonna be ok?”

“Yeah I’ll survive. I went through worse in the Marines.”

“Oh yeah.” The nurse said. “I saw your dog tags over there,” she pointed over near the flowers.

“Thanks,” he smiled.

The nurse turned to walk away. “I never got your name,” John called.

She smiled, “It’s Denise.”

John grinned. “Denise,” he muttered to himself.

John licked his fingers clean of the food remnants and lifted the bed up so he could sit up. He searched for the TV remote and found it sitting on the table next to him. He reached over with his good hand and picked it up.

He gingerly examined it and figured out how to use it. He pointed it at the television and turned it in. He flicked from channel to channel trying to find something interesting. He came up empty. It took him a while to settle on Jeopardy.

He stared at the screen, his mind wandering, as Jeopardy faded into white noise. He thought about the Marines, about what happened there. His mind wandered to the present day. How he had no job, no family, and no family. He was an only child.

He thought of Denise and she might be a good candidate for a date. He gave an amused smile. He shifted in bed to elevate his arm. He stared blankly at the television screen and his head bobbed slightly.

His eyelids slowly drooped down and he slumped forward, asleep in his bed.

John awoke to the shaking of his right arm. He shot up and his eyes darted around the arm. Denise stood at his side with big wide eyes. “We need to get out of here John,” she whispered.

“Just me?” he flirted.

“John,” she hissed. “This is incredibly serious. Masked men have broken into the hospital. They are armed and dangerous. We are trying to get as many patients out of here as possible.”

John furrowed his brows. “I should be helping people get out of here. I’m a Marine. I have training for this.”

Denise shook her head. “No you are injured I can’t let you do this.”

John shrugged, “I’ve been through a lot worse overseas.”

Denise bit her lip. “What do you plan to do?”

“I’m going to run interference. I’m going to distract those armed guards and give you time to escort the patients out. But, I’m going to need some supplies to help. I need a good set of clothes.” He gestured to his hospital gown. “And I need a weapon of sorts.”

“Well I’ve got the weapon for you,” Denise said reaching into her purse and pulling out a five shot revolver. She dug a little deeper and pulled out a box of 25 extra shots. “You’ve got 30 total.”

John smiled, “I think I’m in love.”

Denise blushed and rolled her eyes. “I’ll go get your clothes.”

John picked the gun up and examined it. He familiarized himself with it. It was going to be his best friend for the next while.

Denise darted back into the room and threw some clothes at John. “I found these in the lost and found. Hope they fit.”

It was a black t shirt, leather jacket, and jeans. Denise turned around as John changed outfits. He slipped the revolver into the back of his waistband.

Denise turned back around. “They are on the second floor in the eastern half still. We have that floor cleared out but we are still working on the third.” She gave him a slip of paper with her phone number on it.

John nodded and took off out the door. He only got a few feet before his ribs stabbed him. He bent over at the knees and took a deep breath. He barged into the nearest room. It was empty. He tore open the cabinets and searched every inch of the room. He eventually came across the Advil capsule he was searching for.

He dry swallowed one and stuffed the rest in his pocket. He walked down the hallway and made it to the stairs. He slowly shuffled down and made it to the second floor. By the time he was there, the Advil had kicked in. He needed other weapons besides this. For this he visited the staff lounge.

He scrounged around a found vinegar, baking soda, paper, and a two liter of pop. He deliberately dumped the pop down the drain and filled the empty bottle about a third full of vinegar. He then took the paper, and covered it with baking soda. He rolled the paper into a tight tube and stuffed it into his pocket.

John took the pop bottle and made his way down the hall to the noise. He heard banging and shuffling. He ducked down into a crouching position and moved forward slowly. He pressed up against the wall and took a deep breath. He peeked around the corner and spotted a man standing there.
He was dressed in black from head to toe. He had on a red bandana over his nose and mouth to conceal his identity. He had a backpack over his shoulder and an automatic rifle in his hands.

The man in black held a walkie-talkie up to his face. “Where is he,” a voice on the other end asked.

“I don’t know where the hell he is,” the man yelled back.

John stuffed the baking soda paper into the soda bottle and shook it vigorously. He rolled it to the man and it bumped him on the foot. “What the hell?” the masked man mumbled.

He picked it up and examined it. It was a mistake. The bottle exploded in his hand, knocking him off his feet. He laid on his back crying out in pain. John darted forward and pressed the revolver to the man’s forehead. “Don’t move,” John grunted. “Why are you here?”

“I can’t tell you,” The man groaned.

John pulled the hammer back. “I’m only going to ask one more time.”

“Ok, OK. We’re here to finish off a guy we shot earlier. The boss told us to do it this way.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. The boss used to be really coordinated. We would get loads of money. Now I think he’s starting to lose his mind.”

John nodded. “Thanks.” He swiftly punched the man three times in the head, knocking him out. John brushed his knuckles off and stood up. He grabbed the automatic rifle and put the revolver in his waistband.

He grabbed the walkie-talkie and stuffed it in a pocket and moved along. Then John realized there was a problem. He looked at his broken left arm, and saw he couldn’t work a rifle with it. He swore and tossed the rifle aside.

He heard another voice on the walkie-talkie. “Meet me in the Cardio wing,” it said.

“Will do,” John said to himself.

John sat with his back pressed on the corner while three men stood in the hallway. He pulled his revolver out and dove out from behind the corner. He fired three bullets, one into each man.

The bullets rang through the hallway. It echoed from each hall to hall. John rubbed his ears. There was a ring sound deep in his brain. There was another voice on the walkie-talkie. “What the hell was that?”

John pulled the walkie-talkie out of his pocket. “It was me.”

“Who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?” He replied.

“A friend.”

“Well look. I’m real busy with something I’ve been planning with a while so it would be nice if you left.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Well the least you can do is point out where a man is located.”

“Who?” John asked, playing along.

“His name is Quentin Jones.”

“Let me see what I can do.”

John pulled out his phone. He called Denise.

“Hello,” she answered.

“It’s John. I need to know the location of Quentin Jones.”

“Why?”

“It’ll help me stop this guy.”

“He’s currently in room 345.”

John hung up. “He’s in room 345,” he said into the walkie-talkie.

John ran as fast as he could to room 345. He ducked into the closet and waited. He sat there waiting for close to twenty minutes before a man walked in.

John pulled the hammer back and pressed the gun against the man’s head. “Drop to your knees,” he yelled.

The boss dropped his gun and fell to his knees.

John sat in a café with Denise one month later. He sweetly held her hand and thought about how they met. About how getting hit with the car was the best thing to happen to him yet.

Historical Fiction

Butch Wallace dug his boot heel into the thick dirt of the desert. The sun beat down on him and baked his skin. He gave a brief snort and spat a large brown wad on the ground. He looked across the horizon and then to the body at his feet.

“So what is the deal here?” he asked his partner Jim Slim.

“Well he was shot twice in the stomach. He died from bleeding out. There’s no money left on the guy. A puddle of blood over here. Highly unlikely it’s his.”

“What kind of gun?” Butch replied.

“An 1873 Colt Single Action Army revolver. One of the most popular guns out there.”

“That’ll be almost impossible to track.”

“That means there was prior planning. This is premeditated.”

Butch nodded slowly. “Any witnesses?”

Jim laughed. “Take a look around you Butch. Does it look like there’d be any witnesses?”

“You never know ya b*****d,” Butch snapped.

Jim shrugged, “Fair enough.”

“When was this called in?”

“About 4 this morning. Some stagecoach ran across him.”

“The body looks fairly fresh.”

Butch spat another brown wad on the ground. “Does this fella have any enemies?”

Jim smiled, revealing his crooked brown teeth. “I was waiting for you. It’s always more fun to interrogate folks with a friend.”

Butch nodded, “Well then what are we waiting for.”

Butch slowly opened the door to the bar and strolled in so his spurs clicked. It scared them more. Jim Slim followed close behind, revolver in hand.

Butch leaned up against the bar. “I don’t know if you know, but there was a murder this morning.”

Everybody looked down at the ground. “Has anybody heard anything about this unfortunate event?” Butch gestured wildly with his gun for effect.

One man raised a shaky hand. Butch pointed his gun at him, “Yes sir?”

“Billy here has heard something,” he said.

The man next to him leapt up. “Why the hell would you sell me out,” he yelled.

“Billy!” Butch called as if he was greeting an old friend. “Why don’t we go upstairs, get a room, and have a nice discussion about this terrible murder.”

Billy turned pale and began nodding slowly. Butch turned to the Bartender, “We won’t be long, maybe 10 minutes. We don’t have to pay do we?”

The Bartender gave a quick nod. Butch smiled, “Thanks for your cooperation.”

Jim Slim closed the door behind them when they entered the room. Butch pulled a chair away from the table and sat down. “Now if you don’t already know, this ain’t a blowjob,” Butch said.

Jim slim gave a slight chuckle.

“I know,” Billy whispered.

Butch holstered his gun, but Jim kept his pointed at Billy. “So, what is it you know about this murder?”

“It was James who was murdered right?”

“It was indeed,” Butch nodded.

“Then I think I have a lead.”

Butch gestured to explain.

Billy took a deep breath. “There was this fella who came into the bar maybe two days ago. He went by the name of Kurt Savage. He came in here talking about James. There was some kind of feud between the two of them. He kept saying how he was going to put two bullets in his stomach.”

Butch stroked his beard gently. “You heard this for sure?”

“Yes.”

“Did anybody else hear this?”

Billy looked up at the ceiling in thought. “I can think of a couple of the regulars. Do you need me to point the out for you?”

“Nope I’m good.”

Butch began to stand up but Billy grabbed his arm. “Was James’ best friend there?”

“Who?” Billy replied.

“Walton. Kurt said something about killing him as well.”

Billy looked over at Jim Slim who simply shrugged. “We didn’t find anything about Walton.” A look of realization washed over him. “That’s whose blood that was.”

“We’ve got to hurry then,” Jim Slim said.

Butch spun to leave.

“Wait,” Billy said. Butch froze. “Don’t tell anybody I was scared by a blackie.”

Butch continued out the door without another word. Jim Slim was close behind. He holstered his pistol as they opened the door and mounted their horses. Butch gave a slight nod to Jim Slim, and they took off.

They galloped briskly to the hospital and then tied their horses up. Butch slowly marched through the door and walked to a nurse standing in the waiting room. Butch strode up to her and took her by the shoulders. Do you have a man by the name of Walton here?” he asked.

The nurse was taken aback by an African American this close to her. “I can’t disclose this information,” She stuttered.

Butch rolled his eyes and took a deep breath, “I’m a sheriff. This is my deputy Jim Slim.”

The nurse had a look of realization, “I think I’ve heard of you two. Did you put away the Jenson gang?”

Butch gave a curt nod, “Yes that was us. Now could you please tell us where this man is?”

“Yes. He’s on the second story third room on your right.”

Butch nodded and moved down the hallway. He threw the door open and saw Walton laying in bloodied bed sheets. He was shot and killed. “S**t,” Butch yelled. “We were too late.” Suddenly, gunshots rang out through the hall. Butch and Jim Slim darted out of the room and drew their guns. Three men with bandanas over their faces were firing madly down the stairs into the lobby below.

Butch pressed his back to the wall and moved behind the men. He pointed his revolver and fired two shots into the back of one’s head. He collapsed against the wall and quickly slid down. The other two quickly dropped down. Jim Slim charged them, and tackled both of them down the stairs.

They rolled down the stairs and bounced when they hit the floor. Butch aimed his gun and quickly shot one man in the left shoulder and shot the other in the knee. Jim Slim popped up and tied their hands up.

The door then flew open, bullets flying, a stray bullet flew in and struck Jim Slim in the stomach. He collapsed to the floor and began crawling behind a table for cover. Butch rapidly pulled the hammer back and fired blindly at the men. He darted up the staircase and began to reload his gun. He put six bullets in and pulled the hammer back.

He slid down the staircase and fired into the madness. Four men had entered, and they carried rifles. Butch hit the ground floor and rolled toward a couch. He ducked down and pressed his back up against the wall as stuffing from the couch flew around him. Bullets tore through the couch around him as he lowered himself closer to the ground.

Suddenly, the firing stopped. Butch crawled over to Jim Slim who was alternating pouring alcohol in his mouth and wound. “Are you ok?” Butch asked.

Jim Slim grimaced and nodded. Butch pulled him to his feet and led him to their horses. They took off after the four men. They chased through a rocky part of the desert, but eventually they lost sight of them.

They saw a strange man lying in the desert and decided to ask him for help. “Howdy,” Butch said.

“Fella, have you seen another group of fellas on speeding horses come through here,” Jim Slim asked.

The strange, perhaps crazy man nodded.

“Where did he go?” Butch asked.

The strange man raised a shaky finger and pointed to a cluster of rocks the men sped off to.

Butch nodded. “Well thanks partner.”

“Strange fella,” Jim Slim chuckled.

The two took off toward them. After a while of full speed riding, they saw a cluster of four horses in the distance. “We’ll never make it,” Jim Slim sighed.

“Is that a challenge,” Butch said. He pulled his rifle out of his saddle and pressed it against his shoulder.

“1 buck says you can’t do it,” Jim Slim said.

Butch aimed down the sight at the man in the middle. It was difficult to get a steady shot since the horse was causing the sights to move wildly. Butch squeezed the trigger, and struck the man in the middle.

He fell off of his horse, and the other three stopped their horses and got off to help. Butch and Jim Slim quickly caught up and pulled their guns on them.

The four criminals slowly raised their hands above their head. “Now,” Butch smiled. “How the hell are we getting you back to town?”

Mystery

David Williams stepped out of his police car into the crime scene. The sun was just rising over the horizon. He glanced around and saw a man lying dead with bullet wounds in his chests. David sipped his coffee and strolled up. The forensics man, Jerry Bridger, was bouncing around the crime scene, his excitement was almost intoxicating.

David finished his coffee, and tossed the empty cup into a nearby trash can. David frowned, “Just pissed away 10 bucks.”

Jerry laughed. “I never drink coffee,” he grinned. “I’m naturally awake.”

“Yeah, bite me.”

David checked his watch and his partner, Humphrey Spade, pulled up. Humphrey stumbled out of the car, disheveled and a total mess, like usual. He shuffled forward to David and let out a huge yawn.

“Good morning,” David smiled.

“What’s so good about it,” Humphrey growled.

David shrugged, “Fair point.” He turned to Jim. “What are the details?”

Jerry smiled, “I’m glad you asked.” Jerry leaped over the body to get to a better position.

David cringed. “That’s messed up.”

“What,” Jerry said.

“You just jumped over a dead guy.”

“So?”

“That’s morbid.”

Jerry stared blankly. “Forget it,” David sighed. “Continue.”

“There is one dead body, two gunshots to the chest. Ballistics say it is a handgun of sorts, caliber is still unknown,” Jerry said. “We have also found some blood that does not match that of the victim, but we don’t know whose it is.”

“Any idea why these men were shot?”

“No traces of money or drugs.”

“Hm.” David walked up to the body and crouched beside it. He looked over it. He examined the bullet holes, and then studied the face. “This is a small town,” David began. “Everybody knows everybody. But his name escapes me,” David said pointing at the body.

Humphrey crouched beside David. “I don’t recognize him either.”

David looked up at Jerry. “Does he have ID?”

Jerry slowly nodded. “You are looking at the one and only Jerome Archer.”

David stared blankly. “No idea who that is.”

“That’s weird,” Humphrey noted. “You’re right about the small town thing. If he’s from the area, somebody in the office should recognize him.”

David nodded. “Then that should be our first stop.”

David and Humphrey hopped in their cars and drove to the station while Jerry sat behind and combed the scene for missing details. The two pulled into the station and walked in. They both stopped at the receptionist desk and leaned in to Betty, the secretary. “Have you ever heard of a Jerome Archer?” David asked.

Betty contemplated this for a couple seconds. “No I don’t believe so why?”

“We found him dead in the middle of town. We’re trying to figure out where this guy is from. Nobody at the scene recognized him.”

Humphrey poked David in the side. “How bout we run him through the system real quick to see if anything pops up.”

David nodded. “Yea let’s do that.”

They walked to their stations and logged on to their laptops. They typed in the name Jerome Archer. They got nothing. They tried a google search. They found the Facebook of Jerome, and clicked on it.

They scrolled through his posts and found pictures of him with his wife. They searched some more and came across his location. An apartment in Las Vegas, 1 hour north of where they were. David looked over at Humphrey. “Shall we take a small trip?”

“Sounds good to me.”

They pulled up to the apartment complex and parked near the entrance. The duo strolled up to the front desk, and David whipped out a badge. “Can you please tell us the room number of a Betty Archer?”

The receptionist eyed the two for a couple of seconds. “She’s on floor two. Room 3. Why do you need to know?”

“We need to question her. Her husband, he uh.. turned up dead in a small town an hour south of here,” David explained.

The receptionist nodded. “Go ahead.”

The two walked up the stairs and located her room. David reached out, and knocked on the door twice. The door slowly opened a bit. “Who are you,” a voice called from the other side.

I’m David Williams, this is my partner Humphrey Spade. We’re from the police.”

The door opened the rest of the way. Betty had a concerned looked. “Why what happened.”

David looked down at his feet. “I’m afraid your husband has been murdered.”

Betty raised a hand to her mouth, and began sobbing loudly. David took her by the arm and led her inside her apartment to her couch. She sat down. Humphrey grabbed a box of tissues and set them in front of her.

David pulled a chair from the kitchen over, and sat down in front of her. “We need to ask some quick questions about your husband.”

Betty looked up. “Like what?” She snapped.

“Did he have any enemies?” David began.

“No he was a very peaceful man. Everyone who knew him liked him,” Betty said softly.

“Did he ever break the law?”

“Never.”

David nodded. “Just a few more and then we’re done.”

A few minutes later, David put the notepad back in his coat and stood up. “Thank you for your time Mrs. Archer. We will be back to you with any information we uncover.”

The pair walked back to their car and got in. The buckled up and David turned to Humphrey. “There was literally nothing that helped,” he said.

Humphrey nodded. “Let’s head back to town. Let’s stop by the museum and clear our heads real quick.”

David chuckled and put the car in driver. They always went to the museum to clear their head.

They pulled into the small parking lot of the small museum. They put the car in park, and walked into the place. They paid admission and walked to the first exhibit. They skimmed over the placard about Butch Wallace, the first lawman of this tiny town.

They moved from exhibit to exhibit, mindlessly reading. They moved to one exhibit, and thumped into a young teenage boy. He stumbled back and looked at them. “Sorry guys, wasn’t paying attention,” the boy said.

“No it’s alright buddy,” David smiled. “We weren’t paying attention either.”

“What brings you guys here?”

“We are police in these parts. We are investigating a murder in the town,” David said.

“Very fun.”

“Yeah sure. What’s your name?”

“Butch Wallace.”

“Like the Butch Wallace,” David chuckled gesturing around him at the museum.

“Yes. I am his great great great great, so on so for, grandson.”

“That’s crazy,” Humphrey laughed sticking his hand out for a handshake.

Butch shook it. “What are your names?”

“I’m David Williams, this is Humphrey Spade.”

“So what’s this murder about?” Butch asked. “I’ve been told I’m good at problem solving. Maybe I can lend a hand.”

“I’m sure the relative of Butch Wallace can lend a hand,” Humphrey smiled.

“I’m sorry he’s fanboying,” David groaned. “Butch Wallace is an icon here.”

“I know,” Butch sighed.

Butch frowned and crossed his arms. He walked over to the nearest exhibit and leaned on the railing around it. Butch leaned in towards the sign and began reading. He suddenly spun to the cops and stuck a finger up. “This sounds suspiciously like that story there,” he said.

David and Humphrey ran to the sign and read, side by side. “This does,” David gasped. “We need to find out who this other guy was, and check local hospitals.”

Humphrey stuck a finger up. “Wait,” he mumbled. “Why wouldn’t we be alerted about this if this guy was taken to the hospital?”

David paused. “Good question. If we find this guy, we will get some answers.”

Humphrey pulled his phone out. “Betty should know who her husband was with.”

Humphrey talked to her for about five minutes, and then hung up. “She said Jerome was with a Quentin Jones.”

David began calling nearby hospitals. After three calls he came up with results. “He’s at St. John’s Hospital. We need to go now.” He spun to Butch. “Thanks for the help.” And then they were gone.

Their tires squealed as they raced into the hospital parking lot. However, there were already a score of ambulances and police cars there. David and Humphrey dashed out of the car and ran up to a nearby officer. David quickly flashed his badge. “What’s going on?” he asked.

The officer smiled. “Aren’t you a bit late?”

“We need to talk to Quentin Jones now,” Humphrey ordered.

The officer pointed, “He’s over there.”

The twosome walked over to Quentin, who was sitting on the back of an ambulance, bandages around his chest. David flashed his badge to him. “I’m David this is my partner Humphrey. We were on the case for the murder of your friend. We have some questions for you.”

Quentin slowly nodded. “Shoot.”

“Was Jerome your friend?”

“Yes.”

“Was he killed this morning?”

“Yes.”

“Can you identify the shooter?”

Quentin raised a finger and pointed to a group of guys handcuffed by a police cruiser. “They shot him. Then, they came here to this hospital to finish their job.”

David scribbled this down in a notepad. “Why didn’t you contact the police?”

Quentin looked at the ground. “The shooters were dressed as cops.”

David closed the notepad. “That should cover it.”

He turned to Humphrey. “There’s not much more we can do.” Humphrey nodded. “Want to get a bite to eat?” he asked.

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