Chapter 6: Ch7: The Wild West
[ John Wick POV ]
The wind howled ferociously beside me, sending chills down my spine as I rode along the forlorn road past the Little Creek River. With every movement of my hands, the sound of the reins striking Nyx's back reverberated in my ears.
The crisp, invigorating air infused my nostrils with a refreshing, earthly scent. Nyx's every gallop left an indelible mark on the ground, splattering a spray of muddy water.
As we surged forward, the surrounding trees became a blur, enveloped in the gusts of wind. Judging from the position of the sun, I surmised that several hours had passed since I set out on this journey.
"Keep up the pace, Nyx. We'll rest once we reach the town," I muttered, my voice barely audible over the howling wind. In response, Nyx let out a resolute neigh and galloped with even greater fervor.
The rugged terrain beneath us seemed to come alive as we traversed it, with each passing moment bringing new sensations to my senses. A few small faunas like rabbits and birds can be seen running away from the road as we pass.
While the towering trees rustled in the wind, their branches swaying in unison like dancers in a choreographed routine. The distant sound of the river provided a soothing melody, melding perfectly with the cadence of Nyx's hooves pounding against the ground.
As we rode further east, crossing a river, the landscape began to transform before my eyes. The barren fields gave way to verdant pastures, dotted with grazing sheep and cows. The sun had now started its gradual descent towards the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue over everything in its path.
As I gazed into the distance, my eyes settled upon a bustling small town, situated alongside an unfinished railroad. I could see workers coming and going, their hammers pounding against steel nails with a clanging sound that echoed across the fields.
"That must be Valentine," I said, patting Nyx's back as we slowed down.
As Nyx's hooves plodded through the muddy ground, the town slowly came into view. Not much could be seen, save for a few wagons and coaches that trundled in and out of the town, and some farmers herding their sheep towards the plains beyond.
As we drew nearer, a pungent scent assailed my nose, a sickening mixture of urine and other foul odors that I dared not identify. As Nyx's gait slowed, I could feel the scrutinizing gazes of the townsfolk upon me, assessing my appearance from head to toe.
A brief glance at their clothing and the hygiene of the town made me realize once again that I was in the 1890s, a time when civilization was still in its infancy. Despite the discomforting smell and the probing stares, I pushed forward, searching for a stable where Nyx could rest.
After wandering for a while, I finally caught sight of the place I had been seeking. The sound of neighing horses emanated from the barn, drawing me towards it.
One of the workers in front of the barn glanced up at me as he tended to a horse. "A fine horse you got there, mister," he said, admiring Nyx from a distance.
"Thanks," I replied, dismounting from Nyx. "I'm looking for a place for her to rest while I head to the saloon over there."
"Ah, then you've come to the right place, mister," he said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Eyeing me up and down, he added, "I also offer special services, for a few dollars of course." His yellowish teeth flashed as he forced a smile.
Sighing, I pulled out five dollars and tossed it to him. "Keep the change," I said while ignoring his flinch. I strapped both of my rifles to my back and shoulder, turning to face him.
"Make sure you take good care of her," I warned him before walking away towards the saloon.
'Marcus would laugh at me if he know I depended on a fourteen-year-old boy for such simple Information as how much money I needed to buy things. glad I loot those thugs when I meet the siblings.' I was amused in my mind.
My amused break as I arrived in front of the place. Exhaling some breath, I walked through the swinging doors, as they creaked loudly, drawing the attention of every patron in the room.
The pungent smell of alcohol mixed with tobacco filled my nostrils, the boisterous voices of the patrons drowned out the sound of the honky-tonk piano playing in the corner.
Taking a deep breath, I braced myself for the rough atmosphere. I scanned the room, searching for any clues that could help me in any way. The place was packed with cowboys, miners, and outlaws alike, all looking for a way to spend their hard-earned cash.
I made my way through the crowd, keeping a low profile as I eavesdropped on conversations, trying to gather any information that could get. The tension in the air was palpable, and I knew that any wrong move could mean trouble.
As I walked towards the bar, the patrons' stares followed me, their eyes sizing me up, trying to determine whether I was a friend or foe. I could feel their suspicion and hostility, but I ignored it.
"I'll have a glass of whiskey," I said, placing fifty cents on the worn bar table. The bartender nodded in acknowledgment before turning to pour my drink. Despite the clamor and haze of the saloon, my ears honed in on a conversation in the corner.
"Hey... did you know" looking around a bit, he continue, "I heard from a fella in the east that he saw someone with a girl matching the missing girl that I told you about last week," whispered a man who appeared to be in his thirties to his younger companion.
"Really?!" his friend exclaimed,
"Keep it down, will ya! I ain't joking," he added, slapping his friend's shoulder.
"I heard it from the worker there. He saw it around Van Horn Trading outpost," the man continued in a hushed tone.
"Should we go there?" the younger one asked, excitement in his voice. "Maybe we can find her and get that $100 reward!"
The older man gulped down his beer and shook his head. "No, I ain't going anywhere near that creepy place," he said, a note of fear in his voice.
As I sipped my wine, I pondered their words. 'A missing girl? If I'm not wrong Van Horn trading post was not too far away from Saint Denis. Perhaps, it was worth investigating' But on second thought, I put it at the back of my mind.
'My plan comes first.'
Placing $5 on the table, I ordered, "I'll have the Lamb's Fry," pointing to the dish displayed on the menu.
"Coming right up," replied the bartender. As he returned with my food, I walked to the nearest table, opening the map I had received from Hossea.
"Emerald Ranch, Lagras, then Saint Denis..." I muttered under my breath, tracing the road from Valentine to Saint Denis with my finger.
Suddenly, a man who appeared to be in his thirties or forties, holding a whiskey in his hand, approached my table and said,
"I ain't gonna travel through Lagras if I were you, mister." He added, "Especially at night."
Taking a few seconds before answering, I looked up from the map and asked, "Why not?"
"It ain't safe, especially for strangers. That place is crawling with all sorts of unsavory types," he replied, taking a sip of his whiskey.
"Like The Night Folks," he added, his voice barely above a whisper.
Looking at the way he look at the empty chair in front of me, I give him a nod as he took a seat in front of me, He continued,
"What are you doing heading to Saint Denis? With the way the sun looks now, you'll be arriving at Lagras around midnight." Gulping down another mouthful of whiskey he added,
"Too dangerous,"
Pausing for a moment, I took a bite of my Lamb's Fry, savoring its mediocre flavors. "I appreciate the warning," I said, wiping my mouth with a napkin. "But I have to get to Saint Denis as soon as possible, for personal reasons."
The man raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Personal reasons, huh? Well, if you're determined to go through Lagras at this time, I suggest you hire some gunman," He said. Taking a moment to savor the wine, I chimed in,
"Like you?" I said with some amusement.
"Yeah like me, haha" the gunman chuckled at my jest and emptied his whiskey. "So, what did you say?" he asked,
"Just so you know, I'm not like any other gunman you've met so far," he added, placing the bottle on the table with a low thud.
"I don't usually do this kind of work, but when I saw you come in, you got me curious. That's why I approached you. And when I heard you were heading to Saint Denis, I thought, why not do some gun-for-hire work once in a while, haha."
As I tidied up the map and considered his offer, I couldn't help but notice the admiration in the other patron's eyes when they look at him. Maybe it wasn't a bad idea. After all, if something bad happens, I'll manage,
"Sure, how much?" I asked, finishing my thought.
"Hmm... difficult question. I don't know, maybe $100," he said. But the moment he uttered that sentence, I began to stand up, ready to leave him behind.
"Hey, hey, wait! You'll never meet someone as fast as me, it's a good deal!" he called out, his voice bordering on both annoyance and amusement. Despite his plea, I continued walking towards the door, and he followed me.
"Alright, alright, $75, last offer," he said, walking right beside me.
"Until my business is done?" I asked
"Until your business is done,"
"Deal," I replied, sealing the deal.
As we arrived in front of the general store, I overheard the man muttering something under his breath,
"Why I felt I'm the one that has a bad deal here," decided to ignore it, instead, I turned to him, pointing toward the stable at the end of the main road.
"Meet me at the front of that stable, I need to buy something first," I said.
"Sure, don't take too long," he replied before introducing himself. "Anyway, you can call me Landon Ricketts," he said, extending his hand. I shook it firmly, replying,
"John Wick," before I turned towards the shop.
"Nice to be working with you, John," he called out. I raised my hand in acknowledgment and replied, "Likewise, Ricketts."
***
[ Landon Ricketts POV ]
'That's it? No shock or anything? And here I was thinking my name had some value,' I chuckled to myself, amused by the whole situation.
'But I can't help being curious about those rifles. I've never seen anything like them before. And his clothes, they felt so strange to me. At first, I thought he was just a tender boy from the big cities, but then, when I looked into his eyes...' My thought trailed off, and I shuddered ever so slightly, though I tried to hide it.
"His eyes were those of a survivor," I murmured under my breath, the words barely audible.
As the weight of my words settled on me, I felt a rising sense of unease. Who was this stranger, and what horrors had he endured? Yet, I shook off my anxious thoughts and headed toward my horse.
It was better to be prepared than to dilly-dally and ponder about some random man.
A few minutes after I finished packing, I spotted John in the distance walking towards me. "Hey John, got everything ready?" I shouted, waving my hand at him.
He gave me a slight nod, and I watched as he spoke with the stable owner. As I waited, I couldn't help but stare at a stunning horse in front of me.
"Such beauty," I whispered to myself.
The horse was dark as the night, with a long dark-bluish mane that fluttered in the wind. I wondered what breed she was - too big for an Arabian, but too small for a Turkoman.
"A fine horse you've got there. What's her name?" I asked, edging closer to John.
"She is... thanks," he replied, tidying up his belongings. "Her name's Nyx."
"Such a unique name." I mutter
As he finished preparing, I chimed in, "So, are we heading straight to Saint Denis, or should we camp for the night somewhere? I suggest If we need to camp outside, we camp before Lagras, though," glancing at the sky, the sun was getting lower, and the orange hue of the horizon was deepening. We wouldn't make it to Saint Denis before dark.
John nodded in agreement, and we set off toward Saint Denis. As we rode, the scent of wet earth mingled with the musk of the forest, and the sound of crickets filled the air. The trees towered above us, their leaves rustling in the gentle breeze.
Nyx galloped ahead, her hooves pounding the ground, and I couldn't help but feel exhilarated. This was what I lived for - the thrill of adventure, the freedom of the open road.
***
[ Sam POV ]
Approaching the cozy campfire, my attention was drawn to my dejected sister, who was clutching her beloved teddy bear and cuddling a playful wolf pup named Daisy. Taking a seat beside her, I couldn't help but notice her downcast expression.
"What's the matter, Anna?" I inquired,
My gaze fixated on the mesmerizing flames dancing before us. She hesitated for a moment, her lips pursed in a pout, before finally admitting her true feelings.
"I want to be bigger," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "what?" I was taken aback by her answer, unsure of how to react. Sensing my confusion, she quickly reassured me,
"It's nothing, don't worry about it."
Despite her efforts to brush it off, I could tell that Anna was truly upset. The flickering flames cast a warm glow on her face, highlighting the tears that were beginning to well up in her eyes. As her older sibling, I knew it was my responsibility to comfort her.
Placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, I try to cheer her up, "Anna, being bigger isn't everything. It's not about your size, it's about your heart and your actions. Remember that."
Her tear-streaked face slowly began to brighten, and a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. With Daisy snuggled contentedly on her belly, Anna leaned her head on my shoulder,
"It's not what I meant, you dummy," she whispered as we sat in peaceful silence, watching the embers of the fire glow brightly in the darkness.
A few moments of peaceful silence passed before Anna interrupted the stillness with a curious question,
"So, what did Mr. Never Smile tell you this afternoon?" she asked, her eyes fixed on me with inquisitiveness.
"Not much, just some advice on what to do in certain situations," I replied, glancing towards Hossea's tent. Anna followed my gaze and for a moment, her expression turned to shock.
"Did Grandpa Hossea do something bad?" she asked innocently.
"No, Anna, don't worry," I reassured her with a calming voice. 'Not yet at least' I thought. However, a nagging worry lingered in the back of my mind as I instinctively reached for the satchel that Mister John had given me.
I felt the weight of the gun and heard the clink of gold coins inside. A sigh escaped my lips as I whispered to myself, "I hope it doesn't come to that."
Anna noticed my change in demeanor and asked, "Did you say something?" Her eyes squinted in my direction, sensing that something was bothering me.
Shaking my head, I replied, "No, nothing to worry about." I looked at her, hoping that she wouldn't pry any further.
Looking at her hoping she forgets what I said, I asked, "Why do you always call him Mr. Never Smile though?" she persisted, her gaze unwavering, before her expression soften as she answer,
"You really are an oaf,"
I felt a tick mark forming on my forehead, "What did you say?" I muttered under my breath.
"You ask me why I call him that even though I call him Mr. Never Smile? You really are dense," she continues with a huff, resting her chin on her palm as she looks at the campfire.
I shake my head, unimpressed with my sister's response. We sit in silence for a few moments before I remembered something as I pick up a book that Mister John give me.
"What's that?" my sister's voice rings out as I open the book.
"You want to learn how to read because I called you an oaf?" she adds,
"Should I call you a monkey now?" her annoying voice filled with amusement.
Ignoring her, I say, "It's a book that Mister John gave me. It's filled with his drawings so we can learn without needing to read." My sister looks at me with confusion written all over her face.
"We?" she says.
"What are we going to learn?" peeking her little head at the book in my arms.
"He said it's a movement set for training," I reply. "So we can have more stamina to defend ourselves. He said something about meat... mat... metal... muscles or something, I can't quite remember." I say, trying to recall what Mister John had told me.
"In the end, what I do know is that it will help us be like him," my voice is full of determination.
"You mean get big like him?" my sister's voice borderline shouting.
"Yes, like him," I say, nodding my head.
As we flipped through the pages, the drawings came alive, The intricate details of the sketches were mesmerizing.
My sister was equally entranced by the drawings, and I could see the excitement in her eyes as she gazed at the images. We studied the pictures intently, trying to decipher the movements and techniques from mister John's drawing.
The night sky was now alight with stars, casting a soft glow over our campsite. The fire had dwindled down to a bed of glowing embers, and the only sound was the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze.
As we turned to the final page, a sudden gust of wind blew through the camp, sending a shiver down my spine. My sister clutched her teddy bear tightly, and even Daisy the pup let out a small whine.
I closed the book with a snap, and we both looked up, scanning the surrounding instinctively/
Seeing nothing out of ordinary, we continue sat there in silence, listening intently to the sounds of the night. After a few moments, my sister broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Do you think we'll ever be as strong as him?"
Knowing what she meant, I thought about it for a moment before answering, "Maybe not as strong as him, but we can be strong in our own way. And that's all that matters."
She smiled at me, and for a moment I have a feeling that I may have just done something that I will regret later.
Weekly Power Status
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Ranking 
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