The Postman Ep. 4 (Firing Range)

Read the first episode...

Rylan crouched low to the ground, he was close to the source of the smoke. He couldn't hear the crackle of a campfire, and it was broad daylight. The smoke was rising out of a nearby clearing. Rylan figured he wouldn't be noticed if he stayed lower to the ground and approached the clearing slowly. It crossed him mind that he could just walk around the potential bandit camp, but his blood was boiling and he was clearly on an adventure, by God.

So he crawled steadily closer until he heard a hiss. A sound like air rushing through... something. Rylan couldn't quite place it. After about what felt like ten minutes of crawling through foliage, he reached the clearing and caught sight of the smoke's source.

A man in a leather long coat sat cross-legged with a blackened 'column' in front of him. His chemystry tutor back home had instilled a deep understanding of nearly no concept found within the art of chemystry. Rylan was by no means an alchemist, but he did recognize the mixture of chemicals in the column that produced the smoke. It was a common formula used by travelers who lost their way.

If he had to guess, it was a 'hydro-volatile crystalloid' mixed with water. His chemystry tutor had used those very words to describe a crystal that vaporized into thick black smoke when mixed with water.

The man had a scarf wrapped around his face, so Rylan couldn't make out much. He looked young, thin, and a little bit scared. Rylan stood up and walked into the clearing. The man started, "Who's there?"

"Relax, I'm just a traveler."

"Good then, turn out your pockets." The man drew a flintlock pistol and aimed it straight at Rylan. "Go on then, let's see what you've got."

***

Vinnie took off her back pack and pulled out a smaller leather bag. In it, there was a bear trap, wire, caltrops, accelerant, and explosive clay kept in a round tin. She was careful to keep the explosive clay secure from any flames. Instead, she put it back in the smaller case and removed the caltrops and put everything else back.

The tall grass around the train was starting to ignite. She made a loop around the flames and kept an eye on the seven silhouettes in the distance. There was no way she's be able to shoot them down from her current position, so it would come down to a mid-range conflict. Her time in the First Imperial Scouts would prove useful, but there was only so much she could do in a one against seven conflict.

She carefully scattered the caltrops in the tall, wet grass. It was less likely to catch fire than the dead grass that was close to the train. She hunkered down and checked her rifle, it was loaded from earlier. Her flintlock was also loaded and within reach. In the wagon, just west of their position, she had left her crossbow. It was her weapon of choice, but she needed something that would puncture the thick glass of the train.

Her caltrops were set, her guns were loaded. Now she just needed to wait on her targets to get close.

***

Linwood took deep breaths, calming his racing heart. His body ached from the blast that stopped the train. The black stone was in his back pack within easy reach. He could just see Thirteen off in the distance. He was a huge man, a solid mass of muscle perfect for conducting lightning through his body. The man who walked beside him was carrying an eerie blue sword. Rylan wasn't sure how he was going to get out alive.

"Thirteen!" He called out through the pounding rain, waving.

Thirteen waved back, the other one looked like he was laughing. Linwood cracked his knuckles anxiously. Thirteen had held his spot for nearly three years since Linwood had left the group. The other one was a higher rank, but that didn't mean much. Thirteen had not advanced because he was unskilled, he had not advanced because he always left too much of a mess. One had complained to Linwood whenever he was Three about his partner.

"You are going to have to clean up after him next time. The people think there is a serial killer on the loose." One had said, his unnerving green eyes pierced Linwood. "Our group has operated in secrecy for the past twelve years. Do not let Thirteen ruin this, or you will drop rank."

'Drop rank' was a euphemism for die a painful and brutal death at the hands of One.

Linwood was in range to attack Thirteen, if he were at full strength. But if he drew from The Source like he had last time, there was a chance it could kill him. He could open fire on Thirteen, but he might miss, and Thirteen would kill him before he got the chance to fire another shot.

In his pocket, he had a white glass ball filled with a milky grey powder. The powder was activated when it came into contact with oxygen. It would engulf anything it came into contact with in blue flames and completely consume them. It was how Linwood used to clean up messes. If he got close enough, the situation would be over.

***

Vinnie took aim, her finger on the trigger. She hated the moment. The moment when a life hung in the balance, when the only thing between a man's next heart beat and death was a twitch of the finger. It made her stomach churn, her head spin, but it lasted less than second.

This target was only a kid, no older than fifteen. He had fair blonde hair and green eyes. His nose had been broken once before, but it was probably when he was younger. Railgaurd didn't see much action. The boy was wide eyed at the sight of the flames, Vinnie smelled his fear.

She didn't pull. Would he be last? Would he watch his friends die in a matter of seconds, and then fall in terror? Vinnie felt her heart racing again. She took a deep breath to still her nerves and refocused her vision. The muscles in her eyes twitched and convulsed until she'd tuned her vision on another target.

The chemyst wore his white hair in a ponytail. He wore blacked, cracked goggles and a red ribbon to keep his hair back. He had wrinkles from laugher on his face, but right now he looked disgusted at the turmoil. Again, finger on the trigger, one pull and he'd be down in an instant, but she just couldn't do it.

She'd done it before. The first time it hurt her deeply, she didn't speak for a week. The second time she cried and stayed in bed a few dies like a suitor had left her. Third time was the charm. She was dead to the remorse by then, but now something felt wrong about it. These men were just doing their job.

Vinnie took a deep breath and pulled. The group scattered, and her eyes felt like they were wriggling in her skull. She refocused on the next target and reloaded her rifle like some sick puppet; someone else was pulling the strings again. Pink mist, and another target fell. The remorse was gone and she was at the firing range. Two down, five to go.

***

Linwood shook Thirteen's hand. "Good to see you again. I suppose you two are here to handle me?" Thirteen nodded, and the other one just grinned from ear to ear, fingers twitching, gripping his sword tightly.

"Let's catch up first," Thirteen said, plopping down in the wet grass. Five looked confused. Linwood sat across from Thirteen and tucked his hands into his pocket. Thirteen raised his palm at Linwood, "No, hands on your head."

Linwood laughed, "Why aren't you higher yet? Didn't I teach you anything?"

"I've learned a lot, actually. I just can't help but get a little messy. How rude of me, let me introduce my friend, Five." Thirteen pointed a thumb at the younger man. He wore a scabbard at his back and brown belt tight around his waist to keep the fabric from his coat out of the way of his sword.

"A swordsman, huh? Do you remember Eight from, oh, a year back? He was a swordsmen. And Twelve, is he still around?" Linwood asked, looking Five in the eyes, trying to get a read on him.

"I killed Twelve myself when he dropped rank. Eight was shot down by a man with a damn fancy revolver. Swordsmen don't have much of a place as head hunters anymore." Thirteen said, looking at Five.

Five turned red with anger. "The sword is the noblest weapon! You cannot deny the grace and skill of a good swordsman." Five said proudly.

"Tell me that when you've got a rifle staring you down." Linwood said. "Kids these days. Thirteen, how about we make this fun. I'll take care of Five, and then me and you can brawl like gentlemen."

Five's eyes widened.

"Sounds good to me, Three, er, Linwood." Thirteen helped Linwood up off of his feet. "Don't worry, Five. Linwood looks tired, just hope he isn't as quick as he used to be."

***

Rylan held his hands over his head. He had emptied the contents of his backpack out on the ground in front of him. He'd thrown his wallet to the bandit. But now the knave was taking it too far. "You heard me! Take them off."

"Why? Take the clothes from my bag. These aren't particularly nice anyway."

"Because dammit, I've got a gun to your head. Plus I don't know if you've got a weapon on you or not." The bandit said in his thick accent. He was from further north in Valtura than Rylan.

"If I had a weapon, I'd of shot you already." Rylan said. In truth, he was too terrified to even think about pulling the revolver. The man was about twenty feet away, and the smoking column was between them. Flintlocks weren't very accurate, and Rylan could make a clean shot with his revolver, but if the man got lucky, Rylan was dead.

"I've got a reputation to uphold, now take your clothes off!"

"Listen to yourself, sir, how did you let your life get this far out of hand?"

"Shut up, you're not me nanny! Now, you've got five seconds before I blast yer brains out."

Rylan sighed and sat down on his bottom. He unlaced his boots, which stunk from all the walking. He pulled off his sweaty socks, and hesitated before undoing his pants. "Turn around."

"Do you think I'm a fool?"

Rylan groaned and pulled off his pants. Leaving home was a mistake. After he was stripped naked and left to die, he was definitely going back to Uncle Leam's farm. There were other ways to make a living than being a postman, and now he was starting to understand the sort of torment those men and women went through.

"Take off your long johns."

"Hell no."

"I said take them off, do you want to die today?"

Rylan started to unbutton his coat when he had a realization. That man's flintlock was moist with rain. By now the black powder was soaked. Rylan put his pants back on with pride. "Why don't you just drop the flintlock and start walking?" Rylan asked.

"Stop it! Sit back down and tie yourself up. This isn't over."

Rylan pulled his revolver and blasted the smoking column to bits. The shards of glass flew towards the bandit. The unfortunate bandit flung his hands up over his face. Rylan fired a second shot just over the man's head, and he dropped to his knees holding his ears. "Alright, hands on your head." Rylan said, feeling like the baddest man alive.

***

Vinnie took aim on her third target, she was pretty. A brunette with rosy cheeks and a heart shaped face. She shot her in the chest. All that remained was the young man and four others. They had taken cover in the farthest car of the train, which wasn't engulfed just yet. She could just make out their heartbeats.

Vinnie shouldered her rifle and shook her head. What had she gotten herself into?