KID NOBODY in: HEAD FER THE HILLS! - Pt. II

The woman had a room upstairs from the saloon. Her name was Pepper.

“How come they call you Pepper when your hair’s red,” he asked her.

“Well,” she said, “it’s a better name than Paprika.”

He didn’t understand what she meant and asked, “well, what about Cinnamon? Cinnamon’s a nice name.”

She laughed, one big burst of laughter, like she was getting her day’s supply out in one frantic yelp.

“Now,” she said, leaning back on both elbows on the bed, “put your money on the table.”

“Oh,” he said, pulling out his wad of cash and taking out a couple a crisp ones, “I didn’t think that, uh, you was, you know…”

“What do you think this is Mister,” she asked, “a free ride?”

She carefully removed her gun from her garter belt and said, “uh uh, sweetheart. All of it.”

He hesitated. She sat up and aimed between his eyes, her hand was steady, like a fresh ham in a display case. He did as she asked.

“Now get out of my sight,” she said, “before I change my mind about how cute I think your are.”

“Wait, but I thought we were gonna … well, you know…”

“I’m a business woman.”

“Well, I’ll just be grabbing my money and leaving, then.”

“Now you just forget about that money, Mister,” she said, walking over, slowly to grab the money, never once dropping the gun off target, “you know I’m a straight shot and I don‘t hesitate.”

He left the saloon altogether, without another moment’s hesitation, without his money.

He was still in decent shape though, he had some cash left down in his boots. With luck, the vomiting man’s body would still be in the alley and he could get his gun back.

He checked all around and saw the streets were mostly deserted, anyway nobody took much notice of him and he ducked into the alley. The body was still there. It wasn’t laid out neatly, it was hunched over, face in the dirt, one leg sticking out. Both guns were missing.

That’s when a man stepped out from behind the building and said, “well, look what I found.” He was holding the gun, Kid Nobody’s gun. “Say, those are some nice boots.”

***

Kid Nobody wandered out of the alley, bootless, gunless and moneyless. His head reeled, senses a jumble, his ears buzzed and his vision quaked.

Across the street a round man with glasses waved at him, uncertainly. He hurried over avoiding the mud puddles in the street, luckily there was no horse shit to step in.

“What happened to you, partner,” the kindly old man asked, “seems a fellow like you ought to have a comfortable pair of boots on his feet.”

“They took ‘em,” Kid Nobody answered, through clenched teeth, “took my money, too.” He avoided mentioning the gun. He didn’t want to scare the man.

“Boy, sure are a lot of cheats and crooks in this town. Here, let me fix you up. I run this here store,” the man pointed back grandly at the store with his thumb, “we’ll get some boots on your feet, real quick. Just step inside.”

Kid Nobody walked inside the store. Well stocked, everything a town could need. It was also empty, if he could get the man into a dark corner, he could cold-cock him and knock him flat on his back. Get enough provisions to make it out of town dead even, with no losses. Things were going to turn around real quick.

The storeowner hadn’t followed him in. Where the old coot, Kid Nobody thought and went to check outside. The door closed behind him with a thud.

The blood drained from his face. Across the street, his horse was gone, the old man nowhere in sight. What the hell kind of town was this? They got him again, but that was it. That was the last time. The town itself must be the mess the old wizard had sent him to clean up. Creighton turned out to be, by far, the dirtiest, cheatenest town he ever ran across.

At least, he wouldn’t have to wallop the old man. Well, not yet leastways, not until he found him. He went to get back into the store to grab some boots, steal what he could carry, and grab the money from the register.

He grabbed the handle but the door was locked.

***

Kid Nobody jogged across the street, back toward the alley where the body lay. It wasn’t going to be a total loss, the Kid was resourceful, he wasn’t above pulling the boots of a dead man, if he needed a pair that was. He was still dead broke, without a gun and now without a horse. He hadn’t seen a horse in town, either. He’d have to search the outlying ranches once he made it back over the hills on foot. But at least, he’d have some boots on his feet.
He knelt beside the dead vomiting man in the alley and checked the boots. Same size. He thought that maybe his luck was turning around. Until he heard a voice,

“Well look what he have here, an outta towner stealing the boots off one of our dead citizens.”

Kid Nobody turned around to see two large men with guns trained on him. It was the sheriff and deputy.

“That’s a hangable offense.”