O'Malley & Deadman

She looked at me across the saloon floor again, I could not escape those damn gray eyes. There was a sense of desperation to them, as if she needed to lock eyes with me. Jack was all but happy that she had walked in. He was excited to maybe shoot his shot with someone not from Wraith Hallow. But, anytime he would attempt to walk up and talk, she would smile and tell him she didn’t want anything.

Her voice held a thick accent and was full of youth it seemed she was too old to hold. She seemed no older than I, if so, maybe even a couple years older. She wore all leather but with metal plating here and there. On her back, a double barrel shot gun and cartridges for the ammo. Finally, she wore a black cowboy hat, thick brimmed with cloth wrapped around the top; it could barely tame her wild, curly red hair. She was surely full of mystery, too much to be in Wraith Hallow. Whispers filled the saloon of her being a bounty hunter, a gunslinger, or maybe even a skilled cannibal hunter— whatever she was, I was about to punch her for staring at me too long.

Alfred eyed me, probably seeing the clear annoyance on my face. “What’s the problem, Blythe?”

“She won’t stop staring.” I said, crossing my arms.

“There are no rules here, perhaps she finds you attractive.” Alfred said, picking up a whiskey glass from underneath the bar and wiping it meticulously. Alfred’s parents raised him and Jack with the knowledge of the Turnback, though it hardly did them any good. No one knew what anything from that Era was anymore, it was wiped clean.

I let Alfred’s comment roll off my shoulders, I think there was something more to what she was wanting from me. Alfred spoke again, “Why don’t you go and ask if she wants something else? She’s a paying customer.” His monotone tone did not hide the fact that is question was a command and not just a suggestion.

I groaned under my breath, “Fine.” I walked behind Alfred’s bar and began walking toward the mysterious girl. A smile seemed to grow on her face the closer I got. She leaned partially over the table, twirling a glass around in her hand. I stopped a foot in front of her table, plastering a smile on my face that I didn’t want to show. “My father was just wondering if you wanted anything else?” I asked, “We appreciate our patrons.”

“That ain’t your father, is it?” She smiled, looking at Alfred, “Uncle at best.” Her eyes darted to Jack, “That boy over there who keeps lookin’ at me surely ain’t related to you either is he?”

It was obvious we weren’t directly related. The only thing I shared with Jack and Alfred were our blue eyes, but that was hardly enough evidence to support my relation. “Why do you ask?”

She giggled, “Why do you keep askin’ if I need anything else?”

I crossed my arms. “Most don’t stay this long.”

“I’m waiting for something.”

“I assure you nothing happens in Wraith Hallow.” I sighed, “You’re wasting your time, gunslinger.”

She smiled big, excitement seemingly filling her eyes, “You think I’m a gunslinger?”

I furrowed my eyebrows, “We don’t know what or who you are—”

“It’s better the public don’t find out, but I’ll tell you if you’re really interested.” She said, crossing her arms on the table. She pushed the stool next to her back with her foot, “Sit on down, I think we have a lot more in common than you think Miss Deadman.”

My eyes widened, “How do you know my name?”

“You’re quite popular around here, ain’t you?” She said, leaning back in her chair and beckoning to the stool. “The sheriff wouldn’t stop talkin’ about you, though he was the only one that said good things.”

I stiffened, “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve got big plans Miss Deadman.” She winked, “I’d like you to be apart of them if you wish, you seem pretty sick of this ole town.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“If you’d sit down, I’d tell you—”

“Who are you?” I said, sternly. She stared at me blankly, smile dropping from her face. She looked away for a moment and I took my chance to start to walk away. As I tried to walk away, I felt someone grip my wrist and pull me back. I met her gray eyes as I turned my head.

She smiled again, pulling me close to her. She pushed my hair off my ear before whispering, “You best do what I tell you Miss Deadman.” She pulled me across the table, though she ended up yanking my arm toward her. She kicked the stool out of the way with her foot, tripping me afterwards. I fell to my knees, hands landing between her dusty cowboy boots.

I looked up at her, mouth opening to speak but was cut off by a familiar voice, “I knew I recognized you!” Her gaze left mine and instead was taken by the Sheriff, there was only one man with that raspy of a voice, “You preacher killer, you ain’t taking ours!”

She smiled, unbothered by the cocking of the Sheriff’s rifle, “I prefer ‘God Killer’.” Her smile dropped instantaneously, brows furrowing. She didn’t look down at me as she slammed her fist on the table, toppling it briefly towards her. She placed her right knee on the table shifting it to fall into its side. I could barely move out of the way of it slamming down on the ground in front of me. Chaos insured, I heard gunshots go off and people screaming.

I watched her squat down next to me, hand resting on the table. Her black hat fell down slight and hid her eyes from me. A smirk grew on her face. She wrapped her left arm around my body, pulling me up. My mind couldn’t keep up with what was going on, I just let her do whatever she wanted to me. She wrapped her arm around my neck, pulling my body close to hers. She pushed my hair behind my ear again, “Be a good girl and stay still, I won’t hurt you.”

She threw her right hand up, “Hey, now!” She screamed, once she finished her sentence the fire ceased. She stood up quickly, forcing me up with her. We stood in front of the entire saloon. The usual patrons had cleared out, the Sheriff and his posse were in front of the doors, and beside them was Alfred looking down the sights of his rifle. “You’ll stop shootin’ now won’t ya? I’ve got your lovely Miss Deadman in my arms.” She slightly shifted her arm around my neck, applying little to no pressure to me at all.

“Let Blythe go.” Alfred said, temporarily putting his rifle to stare at my captor.

She chuckled, “I don’t think I will, I like her.” She slightly shifted her arm around my neck, as if to seem like she was choking me more, “Blythe is such a pretty name too.” Alfred brought his rifle back down, cocking the gun and looking down the sight. I heard her sigh, whipping me in front of her body. “Now, now let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.”

Alfred’s tone was unwavering, but only I could tell he was pissed. “Let her go.”

“What do you say?” She said, slyly, as if Alfred wasn’t pissed off enough. I could hear her saying words beneath her breath, though I could not decipher them. She shifted my body towards her left side again. I watched as she pulled a pistol out of her holster, one I didn’t see earlier. My heart started racing, was she going to shoot me? Was this the end of the road? She clicked the safety off and tipped her hat up with the end of her pistol, gray eyes now exposed to all again, “How about we make a lil’ deal?”

The Sheriff began to open his mouth, but I spoke over him, “Just listen to her, please.” I begged. Every syllable I spoke, my chest shook more and more.

“Perfect.” She said, cocking her pistol, “You know what I came here for. I will not rest until your preacher is dead, so you can either spare your preacher and I’ll just kill Miss Deadman now—” Everyone moved closer to us, she was quick to put the pistol against my forehead. They stopped moving, frozen in place by my fate, “Or, I can bring Miss Deadman back in two weeks and you can have your preacher ready to die by my hand.”

“You can’t do this!”

“On the contrary, I most definitely can.” She said, I watched her smile fall off her face, she pushed the pistol closer to my forehead, “So what’ll be folks? Lovely Miss Deadman or your preacher?”

Alfred’s gaze did not break mine as silence fell over the saloon. The Sheriff put down his gun, head falling down in what I assumed was indecisiveness. “What’ll happen when you take her?”

“If you want her alive, you’ll shut your mouth.” She snapped.

The Sheriff looked up at me, sadness fell over his eyes. My stomach dropped, he couldn’t be considering letting me go with her could he? Why aren’t they shooting? Why aren’t they chasing her away? Why am I still alive? Why hasn’t she shot me yet?

“If no one’s talkin’, I’m makin’ the decision for you.” She said, breaking the silence. She brought the gun down from my forehead. I tried to break out of her grip, but she only tightened it seriously now. “I’ll return with her in two weeks. Have your preacher ready or else, Miss Deadman will be the one receiving my bullet.”

The Sheriff, his posse, and Alfred stayed silent watching her pull her satchel bag over her head. She adjusted her black hat, smiling at them. She let me go temporarily, just to grab my wrist and yank me toward her side. I was staring at Alfred, looking for any consolation in his eyes. His eyes drifted from mine to the floor. Was this it? Was this the last time they’d see me again? Though my chest was filled with shakiness and I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins, I couldn’t help but focus on how warm her hand was around my wrist.

She was so warm. How could she be so warm when she’s a murderer?

“You can’t run forever.” Alfred said, “We will hunt you down.” 

She turned back toward them, squeezing my wrist tightly. She narrowed her eyes at him before turning to me. “I think it’d be in your best interest to not follow us.” She said, smiling, “Besides, I wouldn’t want to skin her so soon.” She moved her hand from my wrist to my upper arm and pulled me to her side once more. She began to slowly walk out of the saloon. 

As we walked to the doors, the Sheriff stepped aside. I widened my eyes, staring at him, silently pleading for any help. He just looked away from me. I couldn’t look back as we left the saloon. I couldn’t bare to take my eyes off her hand on my arm. The desert sun and heat couldn’t compete with her warmth. I was absent minded as she walked me toward a horse, grabbing rope from the satchel on the saddle and tying my hands together. I felt powerless in her presence. 

When we did meet eyes again, she smiled sweetly, as if she didn’t threaten to skin me moments before. I swallowed hard, realizing just how quick the heat had gotten to me. I didn’t even have a ribbon to tie my hair back with. “What is your name?”

She tightened the rope around my wrists. She put her fingers in the empty space between my hands and wrapped them around the rope. She pulled me towards her once again, leaning to the right. I could feel her breath on my neck and smell the smoke in her hair, “Clementine O’Malley, The God Killer.”