The Scrapyard

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A young kid sat alone at a table; head flopped backwards over her chair.

“Uncle Pete!” She yelled, turning a few heads. “I’m bored!” 

This morning Pete had woken her up early, declared it was bring your kid (or any young person you happened to be in possession of) to work day and handed her his old pistol. Uncle Pete owned a saloon and it was his pride and joy. He lived for the tales travelers told on their way through, his laughter often travelling far beyond the walls of the saloon. 

Therefore most of the kids being brought along belonged to Pete’s beloved customers who didn’t actually work there.

Originally, the girl had been seated at the kids table, but Pete had smartly removed her after she’d fired a bullet inches near Stinky Sam’s foot. 

“I was just warning him to stay away, he smells like he’s been rolling around in fish for Pete’s sake!” She waved her gun around in protest and eyeballed Sam as she got dragged to a new table. The girl seemed unaware of the few men who’d ducked under tables out of fear of a stray bullet.

Sam turned away from her gaze and feigned indifference, though he was really just hiding the blush that had replaced his pasty white complexion. The boy had in fact been rolling around in fish. It was in an attempt to hide from his father and avoid coming to the saloon. He was afraid of her - and after watching his life flash past his foot only seconds ago, Sam felt his fear was justified.

The other kids called her Crackpot but she didn’t mind. It was a thousand times better than her real name - Elizabeth. 

Her light brown hair was messy and uneven as a result as her self-hairdressing practice. Saved time and money she told everyone. 

Pete had raised her since she was four years old and nobody would ever think otherwise. 

In one corner of the saloon a group of men sat quietly playing an intense game of poker.

“He’s bluffing,” Elizabeth scoffed, blatantly eyeballing one of the player’s cards, “and terribly too!”

The man rose from his chair so suddenly that she fell backwards off hers.

“That’s it! Get this wretched girl outta here before I lose my damn mind!” He yelled at Pete, who sat across from him with his mouth agape and cards in hand. 

There were a few seconds of shocked silence before Pete broke out in his famous laugh.

“Now, now…let’s just calm down.” He slid his money over to the man.  “Take this as an apology.” 

Pete then turned around and sized up the scraggly bunch of kids that had been given to him. “So who’s ready for some fun?” 

Two minutes later Uncle Pete had somehow convinced all the kids to go run his illegal moonshine business errands for him. 

Martha and her twin Mary were very pleased with their mission: go and grab all the fruit they could from Sally’s Orchard. They were already licking their lips as they scuttled away giggling. 

Joseph and his self-appointed wife-to-be Anna were to sneak into Sally’s house whilst she was occupied with non-discrete fruit thieves and ‘borrow’ the ingredients listed on a scrap of paper Pete handed them. Without a word Joseph glanced at the list and sauntered off with an excited Anna attached to his arm. Her legs were doing twice the work to keep up with his large strides.

Now there were only two left. 

Sam, who almost in tears and Elizabeth, who’d rolled up her sleeves and began shadow boxing in circles around him. She quickly stopped after a stern look from her uncle.

“As the most trust worthy out of you lot, I want you two to take Reneigh to the scrapyard and find these for me.” He said, offering them a scrap of paper. This one however had pictures. 

The two gave each other sideways glances. Their rigid stances exuded discomfort. 

“Oh of course, I almost forgot.” He said shaking his head with a smile and reaching into is pants. He whipped something out and Sam suddenly felt something cold and heavy in his hands. It was a small revolver.

“I don’t wa-“ The already pale boy turned ghostly white as Uncle Pete shoved him towards the horse.  

“Keep each other safe yeah?” 

The two kids sat in silence as they ambled along on a huge black shire. Neither of them wanted to voice their fears about this mission

“Can you even shoot that?” Elizabeth asked, referring to the revolver he’d stuck in his pants. “Cuz the scrapyard aint a safe place.” 

Sam re-adjusted the reigns so he could wipe his sweaty palms on his pants. 

“Yeah, I’m a great shot.” He fibbed, “I’m not afraid of the scrapyard.”

“Oh yeah? I heard that the people who live there kill and drink the blood of those who enter.” She said in a low voice, smiling as she watched Sam’s frame quiver.

“Well, I’ll just have to kill them then.” He said.

They both stopped talking as they spotted the scrapyard ahead. It was bigger than they'd expected and was surrounded with a rotting wooden fence. Scrap metal was littered everywhere in messy piles.

“I think I am afraid.” Sam whispered, gripping the reigns tighter.

Elizabeth didn’t know what to say. 

Reneigh suddenly let out a huff and stopped in her tracks. She wasn’t going any further.

Sam gingerly slid off the shire followed by Elizabeth who tied her up to a nearby tree. 

“I think I am too.” The girl said so quietly Sam hadn’t heard her.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

And with that they entered the scrapyard.

A while later Elizabeth was rifling noisily through one of the piles. Her fear had dissipated swiftly since they hadn’t seen anybody around.

Sam’s hadn’t. He stood guard with his revolver cocked.

“Hey, does this look right?” Elizabeth yelled. 

The boy looked over and saw a copper pipe being waved in the air. He compared it to the drawings Pete had given them.

“Yes! Wait no…I don’t know your uncle's an awful artist!” He replied, trying his best to decipher the scribbles and cylindrical shapes. 

“I’m sure it’s what he wants.” Elizabeth reassured him before tossing the pipe at him.

 “Watch it!”

“No you watch it.”

Sam let out an exasperated groan and was about throw it back at her when a loud crash came from behind him.

“Show yourself!” He cried weakly, then changed his mind. “No don’t, stay where you are, I have a gun!”

“Reveal yourself and put your hands up!” Elizabeth yelled, staying on the other side of her scrap pile. Their contradiction had somehow gone unnoticed.

A skinny boy around their age came into view and strode over to them, pointing at the pipe.

"What do ya think yer doing with that?” He growled, quickly dismissing the weapon Sam had pointed at him. The boy suddenly picked up the pipe and swung it at Sam’s hand. 

The pipe made contact and sent the gun flying.

 Sam scrambled after it but the stranger got there first and pointed it at his face. 

A loud bang went off and Sam yelled as he fell to the ground. Blood pooled around him, but it wasn’t his own. The other boy’s body, though tiny, was pinning him down.

Suddenly it was lifted, and Sam found himself looking up at the person he once feared.

Elizabeth helped him to his feet, many emotions crossing her face

 “I…I just killed…“ Sam quickly grabbed her hand, the pipe and escaped the crime scene with his new best friend.