A Gun Slingers Curse

"Reputation is what men and women think of us. Character is what God and the angels know of us!" (Thomas Paine)

The man sat alone at a table in the corner. The saloon all but empty after word of his arrival hit town. They all knew what kind of man he was by his reputation. Or so they said. No one bothered to ask him what he thought. It wasn't like he wanted to be a killer, to his mindset he wasn't. It was always self defense, kill or be killed. He preferred the former. Yet fate had other notions. His father always said you have to play the cards your dealt. He didn't know how right he was. And unfortunately for him, it was a saying he never could quite live down.

From the time he could walk his father had taught him how to hold a gun, how to shoot it and how to defend himself. In the west, which had a reputation for being wild and dangerous in and of itself, you had no choice. A man without a gun, was like a town without water.

Zack Martin had no use for killing. He didn't have the heart and prayed each night for the boys he had slaughtered in the name of survival. Someone's son, brother, or friend. He always tried to give them an out, but stubborn pride and the need for glory always won out over common sense. The end always presented itself with him standing in the street facing those young determined faces. He remembered each face, each name of the men he killed. Young kids who were determined to make a name for themselves. Poor devils didn't know what they were doing. A reputation for fast shooting followed a man like a shadow, as often as you tried to escape it, it stuck with you wherever you went.

He sighed and took another sip of his beer as he made himself a little more comfortable in his chair and waited. His back to the wall, and his eyes set on the swinging doors in front of him, as well as the door next to the bar itself. He didn't want to fight. In fact in all truth he was getting tired, but if fighting meant staying alive, then fighting is what he would have to do.

As it always happened right before a battle he thought of a pretty young woman with soft eyes. He guessed it was something he couldn't avoid. The thought of her made his heart ache for a different life. One that he knew had escaped him altogether. They were to be married, a simple life they said. He had a guaranteed position with her father's shipping empire, a pretty little house waiting for them and all the comforts money could buy. But he was young and restless and itching to travel and explore the opposite end of the map. To put it plainly, he was wrong.

"Martin we have some business to take care of," a scruffy voice echoed into the room.

"Alright Andrews it's you and me."

"I can't wait to put you where you belong."

"And where is that?"

"Six feet under." His tone deathly serious. "You killed my nephew."

"I gave the kid an out," Zack stated. "The bullet that killed him didn't come from my gun."

"You shot him in the back."

"I've never shot anyone in the back," he calmly stated. "He was facing me."

"That's not what Billy said."

"Well, he was lying."

"Are you calling me a liar mister?" a young dark haired boy angrily shouted as he stepped into the room.

"Are you the one who said it?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

"Then I'm calling you a liar."

Zack sat back unmoved as the kid then went for his gun belt. But he was stopped by a hand to his wrist.

"Billy don't," Andrews told him. "All will be settled soon enough, and by me."

"But he called me…"

"Let it go!"

Instantly Billy zipped his lips but Zack could tell he had plenty more to say. "Fine." He snarled, straightening his shoulders as he left the saloon.

"You have some nerve," Andrews told him. "Getting the kid riled up like that."

"I told the truth."

"He's a kid."

"Don't you think that's something he should be made to remember?"

Andrews turned but paused with his hand on the two doors. "Zack Martin, it's going to be a pleasure killing you."

Zack raised his glass in solute as he watched the man disappear through the swinging doors. Taking a long swallow he put the glass down and returned to his thoughts.

The day wore on as the heat beat down on the little town. It seemed like everyone was waiting in anticipation for the gun fight to come. For the most part the people walked wide circles around him. To afraid to meet his gaze, he supposed he had no choice but to understand. It wasn't a very unusual occurrence for him. He forced himself to remain alert and watchful for any trouble that might come his way. Something he'd grown used to in his short life. He thought about that, he was only thirty two but he felt like an old man. He'd seen the world through an old man's eyes, so why not.

Taking a turn around a corner he crossed the entrance to an alley way and felt a cold piece of steel against his backside. He had to admit he never pegged Andrews as the type to ambush him. But his nephew's friend was another matter altogether.

"I thought I might meet up with you sooner or later," Zack sneered.

"Shut up," the young boy wailed. "I told you no one calls me a liar." Billy shouted before pushing him up against a back staircase to one of the buildings.

"Are you planning on using that thing or is it just for show."

"Don't you get it?" he sneered. "I'm not giving Andrews the chance to kill you first."

"I didn't think you would."

"What do you mean?"

"Andrews is in this to try and settle a score, he's letting his emotions do the talking," Zack stated. "You on the other hand are in this for something very different."

"Recognition, the right to gloat, strutting around shouting to all within earshot how I took down one of the greatest gun fighters of our time."

"Nope," he steeled his shoulders and met the man's gaze head on.

"Enlighten me."

"You're not a gun fighter. Gun fighters play it straight. They don't shoot people in the back."

"So you figured it out?"

"It wasn't that hard," he replied. "Since I was standing in front of him at the time."

"You have a lot of notches on that belt," he explained with a shrug. "What's one more."

"I suppose that's true," the older man replied. "But, you've forgotten one thing."

"What is that?"

"The bullet the doctor took out of the kid isn't from my gun," Zack replied. "Don't you think it will seem suspicious that you are claiming it was."

"You could have picked up a gun."

"But I didn't."

"They don't have to know that."

"Why did you kill him?" Zack asked.

"He was weak," Billy replied with disgust. "He needed to die."

"Is that right."

"I did him a favor," he scowled.

"Like the favor you're going to do for me?"

"Something like that," Billy grinned. "You're getting older. It's time to pass the torch. Draw your gun."

"If I refuse?"

"I said draw your gun."

"No."

"Don't be stupid. You're going to die eventually why prolong the inevitable. Draw your gun."

"No."

"Do it!"

"This must really be pissing you off," Zack smirked. "Remember in these parts shooting an unarmed man is punishable by hanging."

"You forget one thing. No one will ever believe this wasn't self defense. I have these small minded people wrapped around my finger. I got away with one murder and I can get away with another, especially since the victim is someone who many would love to see dead."

"You have it all figured out don't you?"

"Draw your gun."

"I don't think you heard me the first time," Zack sneered while clearly drawing out the word. "NO!"

"You're going to die either way," the kid shouted. "And you know why, because I won't stop until I succeed in killing you."

"I've heard enough," a voice shouted. "Put the gun down."

"Sheriff Greyson, you don't understand. He was trying to kill me and I had to stop him."

"Billy, you're done," he bellowed. "We heard everything."

"How could you?" Andrews fumed. "You were his friend."

Billy laughed pointing his pistol in a new direction. But before he could pull the trigger, Zack aimed his and shot the gun out of his hand saving Andrews from harm. The sheriff and the deputy rushed at Billy. The boy sidestepped them and headed for the exit with Zack in tow.

Zack caught up to him as he rounded a corner and flew into a nearby barn. The sheriff and Andrews met him at the door. As Andrews rounded the corner and headed for the back of the barn, sheriff Greyson headed toward the corral and Zack slowly entered the building. It was quiet, too quiet.

Zack immediately took in the scene, every possible hiding place, every possible threat, and then slowly made his way in, choosing to hide behind a stack of hay bales. He knew the kid was buying his time and keeping his whereabouts a secret. He would have done the same thing in his place.

"Come out Billy. You don't have to make this harder on yourself than it already is."

Again silence, but Zack wasn't one to back down. "Show yourself!"

Through the corner of his eye he caught a small movement, but said and did nothing. He was going to wait for dear little Billy to make his move. "I'm sure when this goes to court you'll get a minor sentence if you cooperate."

Zack discreetly watched as Billy slowly made his way across the hayloft above him. Making sure to keep his head down and directed toward the other side of the barn he waited for the right moment. When a noise was heard right above his head the kid made his move and Zack jumped out of the way just in time to see him fall onto the haystack in front of him. He pointed his gun and waited for the boy to recover as the sheriff and Andrews came running in. Angry he was shouting and bellowing the entire time he was being handcuffed.

"Let me go," he shouted as they dragged him across the main street and finally into the Sheriff's office. "You don't know who you're dealing with."

"Boy I suggest you keep your mouth shut until I can contact your father."

"To hell with him and to hell with you," he menacingly retorted. "If you think you'll be able to keep me here, think again. I won't be sticking around here for long."

"Lock him up and shut the outer door into the office."

"Right away sheriff."

A month had gone by since the incident with Billy. The trial lasted a week and the circuit judge left with the utmost confidence that justice had been done. Zack was given a full reprieve for his past regrets with the assurance that he wouldn't repeat the circumstances that brought him to this point. The people around him, although still a bit wary welcomed him for the most part, especially thanking him for saving Mr. Andrews life when Billy aimed his gun. He even accepted a few invitations to have dinner with various families that called this town home. For the first time in a long time he felt good about the future and had an unyielding urge to see his own family and head back to Boston.

"I guess it's time to go," Zack stated standing in the sheriff's office with two men he'd come to respect. "Unless you need anything else from me?"

"We'll be sure to keep in touch if that becomes the case. Where will we be able to find you?"

"I have a brother in Boston I haven't seen in a few years. I think it's time for a family reunion."

"It's a hard life isn't it?"

Zack raised an eyebrow in question as the three men headed outside onto the porch.

"Constantly having to defend yourself?"

"Hard, sad, lonely and tiresome," the other men nodded in understanding. "It's not easy when you spend your life looking behind you. When you perceive everyone as an enemy, and not a possible friend. It's a hard lesson to learn and it's a shame that Billy hasn't learned that lesson yet. I just hope prison will be he's salvation and not his undoing."

"I hope so too. But somehow I don't think that will be the case. He's a determined young man." The sheriff sighed, a sadness crossing his features. "Unfortunately he wants his name on the front page. I guess I can't fault him for wanting to be remembered. What he doesn't realize, is it may just be for all the wrong reasons."

"I suppose," Zack replied preparing to mount his horse.

"Hey Martin?" Andrews walked up with a smile.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks." He paused for a moment a bit choked up. "For saving my life."

"Your welcome," Zack told the older man as he shook his hand and quietly climbed onto his saddle. "Keep in touch."

"You bet."

They all nodded in agreement and Zack aimed his horse toward the east, as he lowered his hat over his forehead and thought about the family he left behind. He was going home. He just hoped he'd be welcome.

The End!

AN: Just a small tale I was thinking of writing after watching an old movie with Gregory Peck. Anyway, please read and review. I'd like to know what you think. :)

Quick Note: Because of a suggestion made by the wonderful wyntirsno, i've decided to add another chapter called The Gun Slingers Homecoming! Please look out for that! :P