DAY SIX- MAFIA HIT~ Knock it back!

I am - yet what I am, none cares or knows:
My friends forsake me like a memory lost:
I am the self-consumer of my woes --
They rise and vanish in oblivious host

“I Am” by John Clare

Drink up with me now,
And forget all about
The pressure of days.
Do what I say,
And I'll make you okay,
And drive them away
The images stuck in your head

“Between the Bars” by Eliott Smith

A few of them had found a place of comfort in the small mining town of Eureka. It was called the Palace Saloon and right now it looked like paradise on earth. The dreams from Flagg had gotten stronger the closer they got to Las Vegas but for whatever reason the Walking Dude had given them a respite despite the change in course. It made them equally uneasy. What if he was displeased and sent others to take care of them just as they had ended the lives of others? What if there was something else, something bigger, demanding his attention and they weren't there to be a part of it?

A few drinks of whiskey and the problems seemed less important. They'd figure it out. The bottle of Old Pulteney was almost gone when -she- swept in like she owned the place. Whoever had named her Temperance obviously didn't know what they had on their hands, the woman was as far from temperate as they came. The redhead smiled at those already in the saloon and hooked a wooden bar stool with one booted foot.

“Howdy, nice place you've found here.”

Taking the bottle of whiskey on the bar, Tempy upended it and finished it off. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and grinned.

“Now that was some good stuff. Got any more?”

That had been the best alcohol in the bar! The others were mute, either in shock or some other emotion. Temperance paid it no mind and crawled up onto the bar intending to go over it to get to the shelves of alcohol lined up against the back wall. She never quite made it as the heavy glass mug slammed down on the back of her head. Several more blows followed just to make certain the deed was done.

The remaining occupants heard Flagg's laughter ringing through their minds. They were hearing him while awake now; the horror of this revelation stabbed like a spear into their hard won sense of ease. Taking a few more bottles of alcohol, they quickly departed, on edge and wary.


Eureka! What a name for a town. Vera figured it must be because of what settlers had exclaimed when they discovered all the silver here – not that there was anyone to ask. The only way they knew as much as they did was because this was a town that loved to talk about itself. There were little informational flyers and brochures explaining the little city’s history in every nook and cranny.

Vera was, in fact, reading one of these brochures now, one that explained the history of the Eureka Opera House. Casting it aside, she looked around said building, wondering where they others were. She had called a meeting tonight to try to settle, once and for all, where they were going, but so far no one had showed up. She stood up, stretching her legs, and scowled. Where –were- they? Off killing each other, no doubt. Things were beyond out of control and she was getting pretty fed up with everyone – could they not even repress their homicidal urges long enough to show up on time for a meeting?

But wait. She squinted, looking toward the back of the theater. There –was- someone there! Annoyed, she called out, urging the figure to come closer instead of lurking in the shadows, but whoever it was sat still as a stone. Vera huffed and decided it was possible the person didn’t hear her, even though she knew how to project her already rather loud voice. Stomping up the aisle, she approached the figure, ready to ask him what his problem was.

Soon enough, though, ‘his problem’ became apparent. He was dead. This wasn’t one of the travelers, but a corpse, sitting in the theater and rotting busily away.

Something about him, Vera thought, looked very familiar. She frowned, trying to place his face, but stepped back quickly when she made the connection. Had he followed them all the way from Seattle? How was this possible?


Her voice was tiny in the large theater, small and scared, and of course the dead body could not answer.

Or could it? Chills went up Vera’s spine as the corpse’s head flopped to one side, his mouth open and gaping, and said a single word.


With a little scream, she scrambled back, running toward the exit at the front of the theater. Perhaps the others had sensed something awful about this place, something unnatural. She didn’t honestly care – she wasn’t staying inside another minute.

Once she was out in the fresh air, it was easier to convince herself that this was all her imagination. That hadn’t been Vern in there, but just another dead body; she’d seen plenty of those in the past month or so. And he hadn’t spoken, of course not – her footfalls had disturbed his corpse enough to make his head flop, and the sound…that was just gas.

Even so, she walked briskly to the main street to announce that they would hold the meeting somewhere else. Some of the survivors were still lingering, reluctant to go behind closed doors after so much time in the open, but it looked like a few had found their way into now abandoned buildings.

Jetamio 17 years ago
Jet sat outside on the steps to some bar or something. Charley nosed around her feet, looking for morsels of oats she had aquired from an abandoned store. His blowing caused little puffs of dusts to erupt around her feet, before he started shoving her feet in impatience, demanding more. Chuckling ever so softly, she poured the remains of the packet of oats on the floor. She watched him a moment, then looked up and sighed. Had the flu hit her home in Scotland? Were her family ok, did they think her dead? Her look darkened slightly at the last thought. She was certain her days were numbered. All their days were numbered.
The sky was clear, and the evening sun bathed everything an a golden glow. Unbidden, the words of one of her favourite songs came to her lips as tears ran down her face.

Youll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
Youll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we walk in the fields of gold

So she took her love
For to gaze awhile
Upon the fields of barley
In his arms she fell as her hair came down
Among the fields of gold

Will you stay with me, will you be my love
[Among the fields of barley
Well forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we lie in the fields of gold

See the west wind move like a lover so
Upon the fields of barley
Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth
Among the fields of gold
I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that Ive broken
But I swear in the days still left
Well walk in the fields of gold
[Well walk in the fields of gold

Many years have passed since those summer days
Among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down
Among the fields of gold
Youll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in the fields of gold
When we walked in the fields of gold
When we walked in the fields of gold

[Her voice trembled slightly on the last few lines, as the tears threatened to overwhelm her. But she swallowed hard, and then sat quietly again watching the sun go down.
vwinsect 17 years ago
Lanna began to set up her little area for the night. Her mind on the repetitive ritual of laying out a sleeping bag and pillow with blanket. She didn't want to focus on all the death that lay around them or behind them. Enough was enough. Right now the talk of finding verdant fields and growing things sounded really good to her. She was in the group that had sided with going that direction. She was ready to have something familiar around her. Texas was a long way away but fields of green instead of roadways littered with the dead bodies of various victims of this pestulance sounds like a dream that was out of reach now. She laid down and closed her eyes trying to picture her parents in her mind. It was getting so hard to do anymore. Slowly she fell asleep.