Young Writers Society

December 21, 4140

1:00 pm

As Harry stood in the street across from the masked bandit, she thought about how if this had occurred just a bit earlier, the gun fight would be taking place at noon.  It would have been rather convenient for her and provided some advantage, knowing that all those spirits would be on her side.  Alas, that would have to be a dream for another day.

The cloak she wore was gray compared to the other fighter’s black.  Harry knew that she would never wear any white clothing because it was far too inconvenient, in the literal and figurative way.  At least the gray still marked a lighter soul than the one which stood with a hand floating above the holster.

In the first act of the battle, she called out to the figure.

“What do you want of me?”

The figure didn’t move an inch from where it was standing, making no sign of recognition for what she had just said.  Harry was tempted to touch the mind and find out those details for herself.  But she looked down at the legs that were supporting her as the pain from lack of treatment still rushed over her.

Her earbuds were still in out of the necessity that might come from a fight.  The sounds ran together, making it hard to distinguish what song was on so she pressed the button to keep it stable.  Whatever it was, the vague tune made it easy to concentrate on the task.  The instrumental broke by the fifth time and sang out, “One foot, two-foot slew foot drag. Swing your honey to the sugar foot rag. Do a little jig and a zig and a zag. And listen to the fiddles as they play that sugar foot rag.”

She started to move her feet and twirl her fan in her hand when the person finally acknowledged her question.  The figure took its hand off the holster but kept eye contact with her while searching through a pocket.  It pulled out a small photograph.

“My eyesight might be good but it’s not that good, fella.”

The figure nodded and held up a hand.

That could mean a lot of things.

It removed a gun belt and a knife sheath, and walked slowly across the street, having to dodge the random car.  The street remained semi busy while this silent motion was carried out.  Any sign of concern that might have come from a passerby was soon dismissed when Harry was identified as one of the gunfighters.

One car stopped behind her and called out, “Need any help, Harry?”

“I’m fine Mr. Newman, just get back to your bakery.”

“Well if you need help, you know where to find me.”

The car soon sped away and Harry turned her attention to the other gunfighter, now standing a few feet from her with the belt in his hand.

“I did not come to harm you, Harriet.  I just came to talk.”

“And that’s why you used a fake name and stood ominously in a deserted alley.”

The figure turned the knife sheath over in its hands a few times and then removed the straw hat.

“Don’t you remember me?  Glenn Garner?  From Galveston?  You seemed to love making fun of my name back then.”

“If you’re being so friendly, why the fuck did you use ‘Luca Brasi’?”

“Because it’s the code for old friend?”

Harry looked down at her shoes and tried to think about the last time she had seen the rest of her troop.

“Glenn, do you not remember when we changed it?  Don’t you remember the battle of Lariat – “

“No, I don’t.  Because they erased my memories.  Do you remember that little detail?  Why do you think I would come here after five hundred years unless I was trying to get my memories back.”

“Why don’t we just go inside and get out of the rain?”

Harry pulled at the edge of his cloak and guided him the rest of the way across the street.  When he tried to pull back from her influence, Harry flipped out her knife and kicked the back of his leg in one swift motion.

“So, you’re doing fine athletically.”

“Get up and move before my colleagues notice us.”

“Because you’re afraid of your little girlfriend realizing who I am.”

Harry pushed the knife further into his back.

“No, because I don’t want too many witnesses.”

Glenn pulled his cloak back over his shoulders, placed his hands in the pockets and walked slowly but surely the rest of the way.  When they got to the front office door, the blue tarp hanging over the window flapped back and forth, making it so they could barely hear anything behind them.

The song still played into Harry’s ears and she used it to focus on the surroundings, after feeling another presence in the shadows.  The outline of the form slowly came into her head and the color that filled it end was a blinding white.

“Now what the hell are you – “

Harry’s knife pierced through his cloak.

The spirit entered her mind, the words materializing in front of her.

“Return him.Or you die.”

“If you know me, I’m sure you know that’s not going to happen.”

Her response was answered with high-pitched screaming and the sound of footsteps running towards them.  It would take them thirty seconds for it to reach her, but it would only take Harry five seconds to prepare.

She threw Glenn to the ground, turned in front of him and lowered her hand to the iron at her hip.  With a flash of light, the shot went out and the body fell to the ground down the sidewalk from them.  Harry walked up the sidewalk to where the body lay, stood directly over him and fired a second shot into the head.

Glenn rose behind her and kneeled next to the white cloaked form.He pulled the mask off, revealing the face of their attacker.

“Harry, look at the markings on the neck.  Horrirdus?”

“They’re certainly not the one I saw in the vision; the speaker was far more feminine.  But yes, the markings do look Horrirdus.  Strange to see them this far out and especially strange this group is looking for you.”

She took a communicator out of her pockets and signaled for the group to come down from the window.  The group crept along the outside wall of the agency, past the flapping blue tarp and questioning onlookers.  Will ran up beside Harry.

“Who are they?”

Glenn extended his hand saying, “Glenn Garner from Galveston”.

“Pleasure to meet you but I was talking about the person bleeding on the sidewalk.”

“Oh, we don’t know.  Well, we do know who they work for but as far as we know, it’s just a Horridus.”

“A Horridus being?”

“They’re a snake like species from Crotalus.  Not the most creative, if you can notice by the white cloaks that they wear.  But for the most part, they’re smart and strong, and ready to kill anyone who pisses them off in the slightest.”

Cati has moved to the ground and laid a hand over the face of the creature.  They started humming a hymn, moving a set of prayer beads around in their fingers.Glenn and Jud took off their hats and held them over their hearts.  The people that came within twenty yards of the group standing on the sidewalk, suddenly decided to take another avenue.  And after a while, Cati spoke to Glenn.

“And did you?”

Putting his hat back, Glenn asked, “Did I what?”

“Piss them off.”

“Well yeah, you could say that I might have done that.”

Up in the office, the now fully assembled gang sat in the office commons again.  The body from the sidewalk was on ice in the industrial freezer in the basement, the one they kept around for certain cases like this.  Mostly it was for keeping contraband cheese or some shit but every once and awhile, a body spent some time in the cooler.

Harry stood in the kitchenette thinking about the body downstairs and Glenn showing up again.  It had been such a long time since she had seen him.  Back when the battle of Lariat happened, everyone figured that Glenn had gone and died in the main charge.  It was only a few months later that she was put into storage after the bombing, set away for use later.

Those thoughts won’t get you anywhere, darling.

Cati’s voice jumped into her head but Harry pushed it away and leaned back against the sink.  The silence kept over the room while she stood there.  Even though she could feel the doubts of the people in the room, she knew they could recognize her in this leadership position.  She didn’t always like being the team leader, but the gods made sure it always happened.One way or another.

Careful words came to mind and she started to speak them, before stepping over to the screen hanging from the wall in the commons.  Harry took a small video drive from her pocket.  The old screen flickered a few times, brought up a black and white image of an old man speaking.  There was no audio at first, but she knew the scene by heart, just like every other word of dialogue from anything she had ever seen.

“There are men in this world who go about demanding to be killed. They argue in gambling games; they jump out of their cars in a rage if someone so much as scratches their fender. These people wander through the streets calling out "Kill me, kill me." Luca Brasi was such a man. And since he wasn't scared of death, and in fact, looked for it... I made him my weapon. Because I was the only person in the world that he truly hoped would not kill him.”

The screen soon faded out again and Harry placed the drive back in her cloak.  Then she took one of the revolvers from hip, moved it to the back of Glenn’s head and finally spoke.

“You remember that quote, Glenn?  And you wanna tell me why you almost got me killed?  You’ve been back five fucking minutes and I’m already having to kill people to defend myself.”

“Can you take the gun from my head?”

“No.”

“I should have been expecting that.

Will stood up and moved towards Harry.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit much.”

“Shut it, Will.  You don’t know anything about this ass and you’re willing to let him go so easily?”

“Sure I don’t know him but how does that play into ethical being rights?”

Harry moved the gun away from Glenn’s head and as she started to let the hammer rest again, Will sighed in relief.  Glenn started to respond to her, but she spun the gun around on her thumb and shot him in the foot.

“Fuck.  What was that for?”

“Getting the code wrong.  You recognize that clip?”

“Yes.  I recognize it.  Please stop shooting me.”

“Maybe.”

Will came back with a tea cart and set a few trays on the coffee table.  Harry looked down at the food on the table, thinking about how she should probably eat something after all that happened.  When she couldn’t remember the last time, she had anything to eat, it was probably a bad sign about the timeline.  She picked up a few cookies and one of the dented coffee mugs and turned back to Glenn.

“So how did you go about pissing off a hit squad?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Aren’t they all.”

“Look, Harry, how long have you been awake?”

“Since about New Year’s day of 3651.You?”

“Three weeks ago.”

Jud and Cati scattered off to another office, pulling Will with them.

“Why don’t we start this story from then?”

Glenn picked one of the cookies up from the tray.

“Well it all starts, from the best of my recollection in the research bunker.”