Gunslinger Read online

  'Am I dead? Did the lightning strike us and kill us? Where did she go? Why can't I feel her?' Those thoughts raced through his mind as he tried to pull her closer to him, his arms constricting around what he perceived as a blank space.

  'Where is he? Why did he leave me? Why can't I see? I can't breathe. I scream and I hear nothing. What's happening?' Janie thought with a hiss, unable to take a much-needed breath of air.

  Without warning, a new sensation flooded their senses. Still silent and black as night, a tingling surged through their bodies like electricity through a wire. Janie's back arched of its own volition as the current pulsed through her body. A rainbow of colored flashes of light seared her brain. The pulses grew in strength until it became unbearable, incapacitating pain. Still unable to breathe, she passed out. Clint didn't know this or the fact that she was lying up against him. All he knew was that she disappeared. He too ached with the searing as it increased in intensity to overwhelm him. Then all senses left him and he welcomed unconsciousness.

  Janie slowly opened her eyes. The pain in her head turned into a dull ache. What happened to her? She shut her eyes again. Thankful for the relief, the pain in her body dissipated. She lay there and listened. There was a sound as she heard the steady breathing of someone close by. Caution persuaded her to reach her hand out and touch the person. She remembered her fear induced panic. Opening her eyes into slits, she saw Clint lying beside her again. She slid over with relief and hugged him close. The butterflies settled low in her belly. She yearned for him to open his eyes and take her. The disappointment was crushing as he didn't wake. She continued to hold him, closed her eyes, and dozed off.

  Clint later peered out through the slits of his half-closed eyelids. He had been awake for some time. The pain had vanished; the blackness was gone, and the sounds of the morning became noticeable. He didn't want to disturb the beautiful angel sleeping in his arms. He decided that he had never been happier than at this moment. Opening his eyes wide, he examined her strawberry-blond hair which spread out like a shawl along her back. It was silky smooth and smelled so good. He caught a slight hint of Ciara along her neckline. It was like he had died and gone to Heaven for him.

  'What had happened,' he wondered? 'The storm has passed, and the savage forces of nature have calmed. There are only drops of water from the oak splattering on the tent.'

  The spooky silence no longer enshrouded the camp. Clint decided that everything was too quiet after a short while. Silence enveloped him. Event participants always rose early, preparing for the day. Something was amiss in the gray half-light of dawn. Absent were the smells of cooking bacon and brewing coffee. Clint heard none of the usual lively banter between the campers. He must discover what's happening.

  He gently rolled her lithe body away, trying not wake her. Clint pulled himself out of the joined sleeping bags and pulled his pants and boots on after checking for spiders and snakes. He donned his hat and untied the flaps of the tent once fully dressed. He couldn't believe what his eyes were telling him when he stepped out of the tent.

  He had stepped into another world!

  The world turned upside down overnight. Nothing looked familiar to Clint. As he rotated in a circle, there stood a forest as far as he could see. The organizers took a huge section of land, cleared it and made it an almost flat parcel with a gentle up-slope at the Western edge. Now trees pushed in close to a small glade that held their campsite. Both tents still stood, with the rain-soaked fire ring between them.

  The sky looked a more brilliant blue with white fluffy clouds gently floating through the atmosphere. Nowhere in the sky could Clint make out the usual contrails of the passing jet airliners, nor did he spot any of the plethora of general aviation planes that he spotted yesterday.

  An oak tree still stood between their tents, but its appearance didn’t show the venerable old gnome where they camped. This one appeared to be a young, immature oak. He noticed an ember glowing in a gash on the side of the tree that still smoldered. The tree stood tall and straight otherwise. Clint stood in the middle of that tiny clearing surrounded by other similar trees. Happy little animals in the underbrush made their presence known as they chittered amongst themselves.

  "Wa…, what happened?" A small, quivering voice broke the silence.

  "I don't think that we're in Kansas anymore," Clint exclaimed. He protectively hugged the shivering, frightened girl to his side. As the tears flowed freely down her beautiful face, Clint held her close, comforting her as best he could. He knew that it scared her and he frankly was too. Later, as Janie calmed, they looked around the campsite together and nothing appeared the same except for the fire ring that Clint made yesterday. They looked in Clint's tent and found nothing amiss. It appeared as they left it. Janie's tent hadn't changed, either. They made the circuit around the small clearing and discovered a faint trail leading east. Clint remembered the parking lot had been east of the campsite and the town south of that over gently rolling hills. His best estimate said that they had a walk of just over three miles to town.

  "Oh, look" Janie whispered as she gripped Clint's arm. She pointed to movement across the small clearing. They saw a deer there in the grass making its way along the far side. It hadn't seen the couple since they stood downwind from the doe. They both stood motionless and silent until the deer re-entered the woods opposite them.

  Their first order of business turned out to be food. "Look," Janie pointed to the woodpile. "It's soaked. How are we supposed to cook with the wood soaked as it is?"

  "Never fear! I was a Boy Scout. I'm prepared," Clint chuckled at his reply. He slipped into his tent and brought his propane camp stove and propane bottle out. "I'll have this going in a minute. Bring the food out!"

  He got the stove going and their coffee and a pot of oatmeal was soon ready to eat. Janie contributed the precooked bacon, some cinnamon and sugar for the oatmeal, and a couple bottles of orange juice. They discussed what they thought happened as they ate.

  "What the heck happened to us?" she queried. "I've never felt anything like what went on last night and look at the tree behind the tents. It looks like lightning struck it, too."

  They couldn't explain why the tree looked similar but different. It clearly showed evidence of only one strike, and a recent one at that. Clint told her about seeing glowing embers in the gash. Its circumference also appeared smaller, making it a younger tree.

  "I think that it hit this tree at the same time as the one at our campsite," he theorized. "I just don't know what to think. There's something strange going on here.

  "What happened?" Janie asked again, not hearing his comment. "There is something terribly wrong with this."

  With a shrug of his broad shoulders Clint replied. "My grasp of Physics is rather thin, but I'd say that we are the victim of a temporal displacement of an unknown magnitude from my reading on Kindle Unlimited. There must be some kind of connection between the lightning and the transfer."

  The true meaning of his response was clear to her. Clint only knew what she did. He was just as scared, too. He stood and got ready to leave.

  "We'd better prepare for the worse," he advised. "Load the guns up with live ammunition. We can't take any chances with what's happening now."

  Janie was checking her own weapons while he was getting prepared. She ejected the blanks in her revolver and loaded it with live shells. She also loaded her Winchester; its tubular magazine was full by the time Clint emerged from the tent. She eyed him and saw him in a new light. Janie knew for a fact that this man was a real keeper and was positive that he would love her and protect her from harm. Clint had showed that last night when he protected her from the lightning without taking advantage of her. She was in love.

  "Wait a minute." Clint had an afterthought.

  He ducked into his tent for a minute. He returned wearing a tan leather vest and a black, flattop, straight brim, hat a moment later. The band around the hat appeared like he made it of gold coins. Janie and the rest of the
world didn't know that they were all genuine single eagle gold coins from the 1860s. The quick draw shoulder holster that held the backup Colt, also in 44-40 caliber, was under his vest. Uncertain about the future, Clint wanted to be ready.

  "Wow!" Janie exclaimed. "How long did it take to put that hat band together? I'm guessing that those are real."

  "Yes, they’re real," Clint replied. "I took a few years making this. I bought coins one or two at a time as the money came available. Got them from the Gold Exchange in Liberal when I could."

  "Well, I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Are you set to go?" Clint prepared to set out, waiting for Janie to start.

  With a broad smile on her face, she nodded in the affirmative and they started off down the trail. They casually carried their rifles but were watchful for anything that might impede their way. They had walked about three hundred yards through the dense forest before the trail opened out on to a dirt road. To call it a road was ridiculous. It was more like two ruts spaced a few feet apart. Clint had seen roads like this when he's worked on his uncle's farm.

  Janie was in the lead and Clint called out to her, "Wait up a sec, Hon. I want to mark the trail so that we can return later. Just like they taught us in Scouts when I was a kid."

  Janie's butterflies flipped about in her stomach at his reference to her in the familiar reference she'd heard lovers use.

  Clint took the wicked-looking Bowie knife from the sheath attached to his belt and carved an X on two of the trees to be sure that they could find their way back. He placed one on either side of the path. Janie noticed the sharpness of the knife and the ease of cutting the knife exhibited. He kept it honed to razor sharpness. Once Clint was certain he would recognize the way, they turned down the road heading South towards where the town should be. The woods thinned out after a half-mile and farmland replaced the woods. A herd of cattle contentedly grazed in the morning sun off in the distance.

  "We must be closer to civilization," Janie remarked. "There's a herd of cattle off in the distance. It looks like there is a bunch of milk cows in the herd, too."

  Clint nodded at her comment, agreeing with the observation. They passed a house, but no one was around, so they continued walking.

  They spied the quaint little town as they topped a small rise after walking about an hour. It lay in a depression in the ground that you couldn't really call a valley.

  "What the hell is going on here," he exclaimed. "Look, the town!"

  Janie replied "Goodness, it's all changed! The town is so small now. I can see all the buildings from this hilltop."

  It was no longer the bustling, small town metropolis they had each driven through yesterday. The town looked like it came from an Eastwood movie. Wooden buildings lined up in neat rows, but there seemed to be only a few streets between them. Those dirt streets were not the familiar pavement streets of their present.

  He looked over at Janie. Her mouth hung open in shock and awe, a tear streaming down her cheek. Clint could see her body shivering again and he rushed to her side to hold her close. A water tower stood next to a long building in the distance at the far end of town. Beside it were two iron rails stretching off into the distance in either direction. The railroad made it to this town. The purpose of the water tower was to replenish the steam locomotive's boiler.

  "Look there," Clint pointed for Janie from their vantage point overlooking the town. "There are horse-drawn carts, wagons, and buggies, but I don't see a single car or truck. No, not one modern mode of transportation there. As Alice would say it's 'curiouser and curiouser'!"

  This tranquil scene reminded Clint of the western movies that he liked to binge on with Netflix. The Duke was one of his all-time favorite actors. One of John Wayne's quotes came to his mind as he looked ahead. 'Life is tough, but it's tougher when you're stupid.' Janie and he must be watchful now. Stupid could be fatal.

  "Now I'm darn sure that we're not in Kansas anymore," Clint quipped. Janie slapped his shoulder as an admonishment but giggled all the same.

  They had started out again when they heard the pounding of hooves behind them. The pair turned just in time as a band of four men on horses, wearing dusters, were bearing down on them as they raced toward the town.

  "Look out!" Clint shouted as he yanked Janie hard off to the side of road, embracing her as the horses thundered by, the hooves throwing up a cloud of dust in their wake. Janie's heart was pounding at the sudden fright and she welcomed his shielding arms.

  "What the heck is going on?" Janie pulled herself closer to Clint. "Why did they try to run us down?"

  "I suppose anything is possible if you consider what we've been through the last 24 hours," he replied. "They must be a bunch of assholes.

  Janie had collapsed to the ground because of the scare and Clint helped her to her feet again. They stepped back on to what passed for a road and walked. The ten-minute walk brought them to the main street of the small town. Sure enough, all the buildings were wooden. There was a boardwalk in front of the stores and the main street extended five blocks. Back streets filled with houses instead of businesses. The town was busy with people working. Ladies in prairie dresses strolled along the boardwalk, entering the shops or carrying their purchases along. Men were conducting business both inside and outside the stores and shops. The sharp, ringing sound of metal striking on an anvil reverberated through the air somewhere off down the street.

  One of the first buildings they passed had a sign that read 'Smithville Sentinel'. Intrigued, the pair walked up to the window. They saw printing presses and other paraphernalia used in early printing inside. A stack of broadsheets, the early newspaper, was to one side of the window. They printed new broadsheets once a week, or bi-weekly as needed, to get the news out to the people. Something in the masthead interested Clint. Searching it, he found what he was looking for. The date.

  "Oh my God" he exclaimed.

  "What?"

  "The date. The masthead's date says May 22, 1875! We are either in the strangest dream that I've ever had or we've transported back in time."

  Clint's quick reflexes saved Janie from a nasty spill as she fainted. They were fortunate that there was a bench under the window and Clint eased her down to a sitting position on it. Janie slowly came around. She felt his comforting arms encircling her, holding her close. Warmth flushed through her. She kept her eyes closed, savoring the moment in his strong arms.

  They sat in companionable silence for a moment. Too soon for Janie, Clint suggested that they continue their exploration of the town. Clint and Janie had walked halfway up the street when sounds of panic reached their ears. A woman screamed. They scanned ahead and saw people scurrying away from a building in the next block. The recognizable crack of gunfire filled the air. With a quick glance at each other Janie started off running toward the building. Clint came right behind her, his rifle cocked and ready. Janie levered a round in the chamber of her Winchester as she stopped behind a big farm wagon while he tossed the Sharps into the bed of that wagon to free his hands for the Winchester he carried. Their hearts pounded with the unexpected exertion and the excitement of the situation.

  Clint took charge, glancing down at a man hiding behind a large barrel sitting on the boardwalk. Clint shouted "What's going on here?"

  The man pointed and shouted the obvious; "Bank robbery!”

  One of the four duster clad horsemen they'd seen earlier held the reins of the other three horses. His six gun spat hot lead at the shooter across the street. The man fell down in a heap. Clint and Janie saw who got shot. The one in the street had a star on his vest. The bandit shot the Sheriff. A riled Janie had just chambered a round, so in one smooth motion she raised the Winchester to her shoulder, aimed and fired her first shot.

  Janie placed the bullet in the rider's shoulder and he dropped his gun as his shattered arm hung limp. He fell off the back of the horse a moment later, and the other three horses moved off down the street. The bank door flew open and the remaining bandits rushed ou
t. They had taken a hostage. Two of the robbers clutched a woman between them.

  They fired their guns in Clint’s and Janie's direction. "Take the left," Clint shouted.

  "Got it" Janie replied.

  They both fired their Winchesters almost as one. The two bandits holding the woman ate lead. The remaining robber pushed the woman toward the gunfire and caught the reins to one horse standing nearby. He did a running mount and headed away. Clint looked to Janie and nodded to her. In the same instant, she swung the Sharps gun up from the bed of the wagon. Shoving a shell in the breach with ease, she flipped up the Creedmoor gunsight all in one fluid motion.

  Janie used the top edge of the wagon's sideboard as a bench rest and sighted in on the receding figure. The report of the gun sounded like a small cannon. Clint and Janie stood together and watched. Gradually slowing, the horse finally stopped. The fleeing pair stood there motionless for a moment before the rider slipped off the right flank of the horse, landing face down in the dirty street. His horse stood a short time then moved to a nearby water trough, taking a long draw of water.