The Lawyer's Gunslinger

Benjah pressed his hands into his face. It was the end of his career. Perhaps his life if the stories of the Westlevain prison were true.

‘Do you contest the verdict Mr. Moirson?’ The judges deep jowly voice, quite comical with his bulldog appearance, now cut through him like a winter chill. The fraud accusations had come mere days ago. His files had overflown with condemning evidence, any lawyer had recommended he call it in and pray. Benjah made to speak but his lips stuck to together and his throat had become so dry he coughed. Taking a sip of water he prepared for the end.

‘I accept the ver-’ A loud voice boomed over him.

‘Mr. Moirson will accept a duel.’

The words took the breath from Benjah. A duel?! Of course, he had thought of it. An idle daydream of simply shooting Mr. Lawson in his smug self-assured face.

The voice had a lazy iron to it, a few seconds of silence remained in its wake. Benjah turned to the speaker, seeing a large man in a duster so dirty its original colour might have been anywhere on the spectrum of brown. Benjah didn’t remember seeing him enter. 

‘I will represent Mr. Moirson in the duelling field.’

‘And you are?’ The judges jowly voice questioned.

‘Names, Brewley.’ Benjah looked over to Mr. Lawson’s smug smile, which dropped slightly as Brewley continued. ‘Bill Brewley.’ The silence was deafening. The judge finally broke it.

‘Do you accept this representative Mr. Moirson?’ The judges placid tone was now wide awake, his throat jiggled as he spoke. Benjah’s brain became dimly aware of the need to respond.

‘I, uh, can I have a minute?’ The judge nodded and slapped a hammer into the desk saying.

‘Meeting adjourned, 15 minutes.’ People began filing out of the room. Mr. Lawson’s smugness was replaced with a daggered glare as he left the podium. There was a heavy tap and Benjah looked left to see Brewley himself standing beside him.

‘Meant to be here yesterday, sorry about springing the surprise.’

‘I appreciate the offer.’ Benjah said, taking a deep breath of acceptance ‘but I just can’t afford you.’ The man waved his hand dismissively.

‘Consider it a favour.’ Benjah was taken back. This ‘favour’ would cost five times his yearly wage Even then Mr. Lawson had the Black Water Banking Firm behind him. This offer was madness. Benjah had already made his peace. Some men were unlucky and got in the way of bigger things and unfortunately he was one of them. He shook his head.

‘I can’t accept this. Mr. Lawson is gonna bring a dozen men as good as you or better. Those aren’t terrific odds.’

‘Yeah, but 1:6 ain’t so bad.’ The man flashed a wicked smile. ‘I hear you’re a solid shot in the firing range.’ Benjah baulked

‘In a shooting range, not a warzone!’ The big man shrugged,

‘Only difference is more red stuff. Anyway, you have a better chance out there than in Westlevain. You’ll be torn apart.’ Benjah felt an unusual motivation to hit him, but he knew Brewley was right. If there was a better option than Westlevain, well, he had to take it.

‘You’re a dead man if you help.’ Benjah tentatively put out his cuffed hands.

‘That makes two.’ Brewley grabbed his hand with such force it nearly pushed Benjah off his feet. They returned to their seats.

‘Do you have a decision Mr. Moirson.’ Benjah stood with a shaky breath, leaning on the table for support.

‘Yes.’

‘What am I doing.’ Benjah said loading the chambers of his revolver in the bunker. The smooth action calmed him. Then he remembered he would have to use it on people, and he broke into a new sweat. The last time he shot against a living creature was a hunting trip when he was 16. He had not hit anything.

‘Here,’ Brewley passed him a red tube with a piece of string. ‘Light the end and throw it quick.’ Great now he could blow himself up.

‘Thanks.’ Continuing he asked. ‘So, whats the plan?’

‘Shoot em’ until they stop shooting us.’ There was a moment of silence as his deep brown eye’s burrowed into Benjah’s stomach tightened. Then he chuckled. ‘I’m crazy but not stupid, listen up.’

‘There are more of them so we gotta split them up. We stay as hidden as possible and ambush them as we go.’ Brewley pointed to the arena through the bullet proof glass. It was a reconstruction of an 1860s gold rush town. Wooden two storey buildings lay either side of a dusty street. Carts and barrels lay scattered as its only population. ‘We’re gonna try to get onto high ground fairly quick. Certain amount of improvising but that’s the rough idea, you got that?’

Benjah nodded looking down at the pistol that seemed heavier. The rest of New York would be bustling around the edges of the battleground. That was one of the reasons they were only allowed pistols for the battle, anything with too much range might have caused collateral damage.

‘Good. We’re being called.’

They stood, stocked from their brief stint in the bunker. Benjah felt heavy with metal but was glad to get the cuffs off his wrist, he was a free man. Atleast for a little while.

150 yards away 12 men stood squat with hands at sides. There was a bell and a bang. They were so timed that Benjah thought they were the same noise. One of the 12 dropped. The smell of gunpowder wafted into his nose. He turned to see Brewley, gun drawn pointing up. A thin line of smoke trailed from the muzzle.

‘I thought we started out of range.’ Brewley began moving to one of the reconstructed houses.

‘He’ll get back up after a few hours, it’s out of kill range. Hell, of a headache though.’ Benjah followed, drawing his gun. No further shots were exchanged while both teams occupied their area. Brewley had them sitting behind a barrel with an old cartoon man swigging a tankard of frothy beer. The dust continued to rustle in the wind, gently stinging at Benjah’s eye’s.

‘Now.’ Brewley said. Benjah startled awake as Brewley vaulted the barrel firing two shots. Two figures dove behind cover. He could shoot a gun fairly well but he wasn’t a marine and keeping up with the behemoth was tough. Benjah fired a shots off at a run, they thudded harmlessly into wood. Brewley swerved, putting his back to a cart and Benjah followed. Brewley pulled a second pistol.

‘You know I already think your cool’ Benjah joked, the tension making his joke seem funnier. Brewley barked a short laugh and shrugged.

‘I can hit twice as many.’ Benjah clamped his mouth shut. This man knew his life was on the line and if he could do it well, Benjah just had to follow. Brewley rolled to the side and into the road of the cart. Brewley’s pistols emptied their cylinders in the time most men fired two shots. Brewley dived back as a hail of bullets slapped into the ground. A piece of dry earth hit Benjah’s face.  

‘That’s the second down, got another in the arm.’ Benjah gapped at the man’s matter of fact tone. Aside from a couple tears in his duster, the man was unscathed. Those tears might have been 10 years old for all he knew.

‘They’re moving round the outside of the buildings; rest are moving up the centre.’ Brewley said.

‘What do we do?’ Benjah said, exercising his gun’s grip. The cart tremored under a steady stream of shots.

‘Were gonna set a little trap.’ Benjah swallowed as Brewley moved to his side. ‘Give me some cover.’ Benjah barely had time to hit the corner and fire a few rounds into the void before Brewley dived to the building edge. Repeating the process with less elegance Benjah joined him.

Smash.

Brewley scrapped the windows glass with his dusters cuff.

‘Get in. We’re going to the roof.’ Benjah obliged, doing his best avoid the jagged edges.

Brewley kicked open doors, not checking if they were locked. In a second, they were on the roof, Brewley was taking stock when Benjah saw the glint. He pulled Brewley down. That second gunfire started and Benjah felt the patter of splinters from a billboard behind him.

‘Nice call.’ Brewley grunted. ‘Looks like they got the same idea. How’s your long range shooting?’

‘Not as good as you.’ There was no way he could have made that first hit. ‘but good enough.’ Brewley nodded.

‘Well reaction is my expertise; I’ll guard the door. See how many you can get from up here.’ Benjah scrambled along the parapet. Thankfully the wood was tough not letting the bullets through but as each one hit, he felt a little jolt. Benjah looked at the billboard trying to piece together where the rounds came from.

He took a deep breath; the gunfire became a little more normal every second and by god there was a lot of it now. He got a line where the bullet might have been coming from, a best guess if nothing else.

He twisted, firing a few quick shots. All of them went wide but he had the satisfaction of seeing a man scramble behind cover. There was a round of gunfire behind him and he turned to see Brewley waving wildly.

‘We need to move now.’ He yelled. The sound of pistol rounds was interspersed with something louder. Brewley charged toward Benjah. There was no covering fire this time as both men vaulted the parapet.

There was a moment of panic as Benjah hung in the air, totally exposed, before crashing onto the other side. Brewley landed in graceful roll that ended with him looking left and right, gun ready. Benjah landed as a sprawled mass of limbs, thanking god he hadn’t dropped his pistol.

‘That was a fourth down.’ Brewley said.

‘Twice that again and were done.’ Benjah wheezed, his mind wondering if Westlevain was really all that bad. Unfortunately, it was.

‘Keep your head low, they might try follow.’ Brewley said pointing to their old roof top. Illustrating his point Benjah saw several thuds in the parapet and gulped as little dents were left where bullets had nearly gone through. Getting his breath under control, he pulled up his pistol.

Brewley shoved his hand above the parapet, firing blind. The pistol was emptied in a flash. deftly slammed the chambers full again three times faster than Benjah could. This man was a machine. It wasn’t the time but the words tumbled out.

‘Why did you help me?’ Brewley replied without looking at him.

‘Our justice system is screwed, I wanna change that and look out for the little man. This aint really the time though.’ Then he pointed to a break in the parapet. ‘Your on point, were going down that ladder.’

‘What does point me-’ Brewley cut him off, sounding more irritated now than when he was being shot at.

‘Means first, now move yourself.’ Benjah shuffled over, keeping a low profile. The parapet was a high enough for them to crouch. They took position either side of the break.

‘All clear.’ Brewley said, adding with a chuckle ‘Need me to explain that one.’ Benjah ignored the jab and began climbing. He felt safe with Brewley’s pistol as sentry, the man could react before anything.

Benjah took position on the corner looking out from the main street. Some of Lawson’s crew had gone that way. Brewley followed him down.

Benjah tried to keep an eye on both left and right. His eye’s fell on a large rock. He stared at it expecting a shape to dart out.

Reluctantly he glanced left and his heart stopped. Two hands pointed a pistol up the ladder, the body obscured by the wall.

Benjah screamed, milliseconds after the shot went off, then another. Benjah raised his own pistol and darted forward, firing. The stream of bullets smacked into the man and he went down hands flailing, his last shot careened into the air. Something thudded to the floor next to him.

‘Brewley!’ He knelt patting over the man to find the wound. Brewley grabbed his hand and shoved it off.

‘Get back to the corner. The git missed me.’ There was a hint of a growl that said otherwise. From that range there was no way the man could have missed. Brewley seemed fine to go on and something tugged at Benjah’s mind. Ah yes.

‘I killed someone.’ He said aloud, drifting to his original position. There was another human being lying in a pool of blood that was his fault. The man had been shooting at them, but that didn’t feel much better to Benjah.

‘How do you do it?’ Keeping a loose eye on the surroundings, the rest of his attention was on the revolver. Had it always been that heavy?

‘Hey trauma later mate. You might need to shoot a few more.’ Benjah nodded lamely, forcing his attention back. He focused on the rock. He furrowed his eyebrows, had something moved? He shoved himself flat into the wall.

‘Shit, shit!’ He yelped; a wave of bullets smacked into the previous house where he had stood. Brewley was in the same position on the other side, a wiry smile on his lips.

‘Seven remaining if I’ve been counting right.’ He said. Then his arm shot up to the roof above and he fired. There was a gurgling sound and a body toppled over thudding two feet from Benjah. He tried not to look at it.

‘Six.’ Brewley corrected, clicking open the cylinder and restoring the chambers. Benjah’s stomach churned uncomfortably.

‘What do we do?’ Benjah’s pistol wavered. He tightened his grip on it. Brewley shuffled over to his side grabbing the dynamite from his coat. He bent down to the dead body, its remaining eye staring blankly up. Benjah looked away sharply.

‘We leave a little surprise for em’.’ He stood up ‘Now you ready to send a few shots their way?’ Brewley gestured to the rock where steady rhythm of bullets still came.

Benjah wasn’t sure but nodded anyway. They were both dead men if he didn’t. Brewley put a hand on his shoulder.

‘It’s pretty crappy the first few times, especially if your used to just getting kicked around. Thing is I’m sick of people getting kicked around. Killing’s crap, but sometimes if you don’t kill, it just gets even worse.’ The big man slapped his back. ‘You ready?’

‘Yeah.’ Benjah said. He wouldn’t be the small man, at least for today. Brewley then charged around the corner, while Benjah fired into the rock. Brewley fired wildly until he dived into a small sand dune. He scrambled forward and then out of view. There was the sound of gunfire behind the rock.

Benjah held his breath. He looked down at the dynamite stick, it had 30 seconds left.

Then Brewley waved to him and his breathing resumed. Benjah rushed out.

As he moved, the crackle of gunfire sounded behind him and he jerked to the side so the house was at his back. Benjah hurled himself behind the rock.

Brewley was beside him. Benjah saw two bodies at the corner of his vision, he didn’t look down. 

‘Cover your ear’s.’ Brewley said, covering his own. Even muffled, the explosion was the loudest thing he had ever heard in his life. ‘With any luck that’s the lot of them.’ More gunfire started, Brewley sighed as if his tea had come late.

‘What should we do?’ The rock gave cover but there was little room to move. Outside the town was a Killzone that you didn’t want to get caught in. Unless you outnumbered the opponent 6:1. 2:1, Benjah corrected. Damn that might even be possible.

‘We can probably take em’ straight now.’ A cold sweat spread across Benjah’s brow but he nodded anyway.

‘Now.’ Brewley called. Benjah spun firing a few shots at random before focusing on a target. He squeezed off all six shots, but the man was too quick. Brewley had dropped the other two. ‘Did you get yours?’

‘No.’ Benjah said as they ducked again.

Brewley stood up and walked cleanly out into the dusts. He was gone before Benjah could protest.

‘You need to learn your place dog.’ A voice that must have been the remaining thug said.

‘They say an old dog can’t learn knew tricks, and I’m a very old dog.’

‘If you do this, you’ll start a revolution, a lot of people are going to die.’ There was a pleading in the words. ‘You used to be on the good guys, Brew. Come back to us.’

Brewley’s response was calm and lazy, like he was chatting about the weather.

‘Cal, I’ve made a couple of recent discoveries and you know what one of the big ones was?’

‘What?’ The man named Cal asked.

‘We weren’t the good guys.’ There was a bang. Benjah looked up seeing Brewley standing, guns sitting in their holsters. The other man lay on the floor, red puddling at the bodies side.

‘Why did you do this?’ Benjah asked. Those men had known each other.

‘Shooting peoples a crappy way to decide the law. The little guy never gets a proper chance, so I’m going to try and change that.’

‘So I’m free then?’ Benjah asked

‘I guess you are. Just be ready, there’s a revolution coming, and you might be with me in the centre of it.’