The Tale of Quick Draw Cadaver

Part One

Her heart filled with excitement at the sight of the bustling bar. How long ago she last had a drink, there was no telling. The merciless sun had driven out what felt to be the last of her senses, and her parched throat yearned to be reunited with her long lost love, whiskey.

And what better place to yield to such desires than Snakeskin Saloon? Ash entered the establishment, soaking in the drunken merriment from Death Valley Junction’s finest patrons.

Ash frowned at the sudden collapse of a man by her feet. She nudged him with a worn boot. No response.

Perhaps questionable is a better word to describe such patrons?

It didn’t matter at this point. After undergoing a long journey such as hers, the only thing that did matter was her whiskey, and nothing would stand in her way. She approached the bartender, who poured forth drinks at an ungodly speed.

It wasn’t long before her order was made, and the drink appeared in her hand. She thanked the bartender and downed it in one gulp.

The drink was smooth and warmed her body almost instantly. Still feeling the stress of her day, she ordered another. A new drink appeared. Placing the glass to her chapped lips, a most unusual man from across the bar caught her eye.

An Undead man.

She gasped at the sight of his decomposing body, spilling her drink on her dusty clothes. Ash hastily wiped away at the mess and glanced over at him once more, secretly hoping it was a trick of the dim lighting.

His decayed features remained underneath that tattered hat and frayed duster’s coat. Her nerves rattled. Soon, her panic turned to confusion. Ash narrowed her eyes at the realization he was accompanied by an overbearing squirrel. And as if the situation could not get any stranger…

That squirrel is Undead too?

She studied the odd duo. Her nostrils then flared at the scent of the alcohol drying on her shirt. Giving up on the strange spectacle, Ash sighed and turned away. The feeling of disappointment lingered.

What a waste…

A stranger placed himself next to her and said, “A Dead Man’s Swig and a whiskey, please.”

The bartender nodded and produced the two drinks immediately. He snatched the beer and looked over at Ash, nudging the extra drink towards her.

“Thank you.” she muttered.

“It ain’t nothin’.” her new acquaintance replied, “I saw what happened and figured you could use a pick-me-up.”

She smiled and nodded. An awkward silence sat between them.

“This your first time seein’ an Undead?”

Ash nodded again, “Yeah, I mean I’ve heard of the rumors surroundin’ Death Valley. That anyone buried out there with a last wish may be brought back to life. But I never thought I would actually see an Undead, let alone an Undead squirrel.”

The man chuckled and said, “Yeah, there’s lots of strange happenings around here. If you're faint of heart, I wouldn’t stick around if I were you.”

“I’m more than capable of takin’ care of myself, thank you.” she retorted as she took a sip from her glass, “What makes you so comfortable out here?

He shrugged and took a swig of his drink, “All I can say is livin’ out here is quite the adventure. And we’ve been out here for a long time.”

“We?”

He glanced back at the Undead man, and lifted the bottle to his lips.

Part Two

Bill sighed in frustration. He made his way to Dave after having a brief moment with the men in uniform.

“There’s not much offered here.” Bill whispered, “We can’t even scrape by.”

Dave, still examining the wanted posters, lingered over a particular picture. The sheriff noticed his interest, and placed his knife and whittling project away.

“You eyein’ ol’ Eagle Eye?” he asked, “He’s got quite the price on his head.”

Bill looked on in disbelief. He peered over Dave’s shoulder to ensure his ears did not deceive him. Staring back at Bill were the cold eyes of Lazarus. Bill swore under his breath.

“Dave, you can’t be serious. Hell has followed Lazarus all over the east!”

“Exactly. And there’s a reason he’s movin’ west. He’s gettin’ desperate.”

Bill argued, “But we aren’t! There’s other opportunities.”

“You should listen to your friend.” the sheriff interrupted, “Not many have returned alive. And those that have, come back empty handed at best.”

Dave glanced over at Bill, who silently urged him with pleading eyes to abandon the idea.

“Of course, you are aware of your own capabilities. Use your discretion.” he continued.

“Will do.” Dave replied, “Before we take our leave, any idea on where he was headed?”

“Last account of a couple of witnesses state he was headin’ to Death Valley Junction.”

Dave thanked him, and turned to leave.

The sheriff called out to them as they were exiting, “Be careful, men. Think about it before you make that final decision. Remember, the devil takes a hand in what is done in haste.”

Dave and Bill returned to camp later that day. After introducing the idea to the others, a divide formed within the group. Using a bit of persuasion, they reluctantly sided with Dave.

They broke off into smaller groups and searched various areas along the way to Death Valley Junction, ensuring that they were still hot on his trail. Days passed, and witness sightings of Lazarus and his gang were rare.

They proceeded down the main trail, enjoying the quiet of a late afternoon. Hints of various colors showed in the sky, telling the men the time to return to camp was nearly upon them. Before Dave could call it a day, Bill asked for silence. The others were puzzled, but still obliged.

Curse words echoed from the distance. Dave focused ahead of the road for the source of the argument.

“Looks like a broken down wagon.” Dave said.

Marshall gave a sympathetic look and replied, “That’s awful. And for it to happen so close to nightfall? We should help.”

“Hold on a minute.” Dave said, “Looks like they have enough of their own to take care of it themselves.”

They watched two men and two women emerge from the wagon to examine the damage. The men each wore dark gray duster coats. The taller of the two, brushed his stringy long hair from his slender face, and proceeded to scream at the other three. The other, who seemed to take a bit more pride in grooming, could be heard responding in a more calm manner.

One of the women joined in the argument, siding with the mild man. She wore a tattered Edwardian dress and thin shawl. The other woman was dressed in a completely different manner. Her button up shirt was paired with loose fitting pants. Her rolled up sleeves revealed muscular arms. She sported a gun holster over her hip.

The arguments continued.

“Let’s just check on them.” Marshall insisted, “Make sure everything’s okay.”

“Shouldn’t they have the tools to fix it themselves?” George questioned.

“I don’t know, but that’s why we’re gonna find out.” Marshall replied.

He and George took the lead. Bill and Dave exchanged a look of uncertainty, and followed close behind. The gun-wielding woman spotted Dave and his group approach, and shot them a distrustful glare. The other woman hushed the others, climbed into the back of the wagon, and awaited them quietly.

Dave and his men hopped off their horses, and greeted the distressed group. After explaining how they happened upon them, the more levelheaded man partook in the conversation.

He offered them an awkward smile and said, “That is very gracious of you to offer your help. And please, forgive my comrades. They’re just embarrassed to be seen in such a predicament. Pay them no mind.”

Marshall chuckled, and continued their conversation. Bill’s doubts ate away at him. He circled to the back of the wagon to catch a glimpse of what they had tucked away. A faint stench lodged itself into Dave’s nostrils. He turned his head to peek into the cart, and swatted away at the flies buzzing around his ears.

Meanwhile, Bill had been halted by the gun wielder. She requested his assistance to replace the wheel. The other woman sat directly in his line of sight. She flashed him a smile and thanked him again for their help.

Bill completed the task and rejoined the others. Dave, still bothered by the flies, confronted them about the smell.

The well-groomed man responded, “Well, Abigail and Walker went out for a hunt a couple of days back. I’m afraid you’ve just confirmed the meat may be starting to turn.”

Dave narrowed his eyes and replied, “You should go ahead and dump that right out then.”

The other man, who had been eyeing Dave for a while now interrupted, “You have a familiar face. I’ve seen you around.”

Dave remained quiet, carefully watching who he assumed was Walker.

“Yeah, I do know you.” he said in a hoarse tone.

Before Dave could respond, he continued, “You’re that bounty hunter, ain’t ya?” he chuckled, “Quick Draw Dave.”

“Quick Draw Dave?” repeated the other man, “All the way out here? Why, there’s nothing out here for miles on end. Unless…” he said with a pause, “I do recall seeing his posters hung all over the past few towns-”

Walker butted in with an intense look, “You wouldn’t happen to be after Eagle Eye Lazarus, would ya?”

Dave replied, “I am.”

The other man groaned, “Oh I wish you would be careful. I know that he has taken refuge in these parts. But, if you insist, I will tell you that I know of an abandoned town off the main road, just north of here.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Dave replied, and turned to leave.

“Thank you again for your help! We are ever so grateful!” he called out.

Part Three

As they rode away towards camp, Bill recognized the look of distrust in Dave’s eye.

“I don’t think we should either.” he said.

Dave glanced over at him, not registering what he had said.

Bill repeated himself, “I don’t think we should either. Go to that abandoned town. That was a strange bunch we ran into.”

George butted in, “So I wasn’t the only one to think that then?”

Bill shook his head. Marshall stayed silent.

“Does that mean we’ll leave this whole Lazarus nonsense behind us then?” George asked.

Dave let out a sigh of frustration. He needed more time to think. He clicked his heels and rode ahead of the group.

Later that night when they returned to camp, Dave and his men shared their experiences with the others around the campfire.

“It seems convenient.” Manuel said after lighting his cigarette, “A little too convenient.”

His dark, wavy locks hung over his baggy eyes.

“That’s what I’m thinkin’ too!” George replied, “It’s a setup! It’s gotta be!”

Dave sighed, placed his flask inside his brown coat and said, “As much as I hate to say it, we may have to abandon this plan. He’ll be waitin’ for us.”

Bill felt a wave of relief sweep over him. He silently thanked Dave for listening to the voice of reason.

The night dragged on and they drifted off to sleep. As usual, one man was left standing to keep a watchful eye.

A lit torch was spotted in the distance. He could barely make out the silhouettes creeping along the horizon. He raised his rifle, holding the crosshairs steady over the moving figures. A hand clamped over his mouth. An unsheathed knife plunged into his neck. During the struggle his rifle had discharged, firing a single shot into the sky.

The others sat up immediately. As George reached for his shotgun, a noose wrapped tightly around his neck. His body was dragged across the camp by a man riding a painted steed. Dave spotted him, but was immediately tackled. He wrestled his attacker off, executing him in the process with his nearby revolver. He stood up and aimed carefully at the man hauling George away.

Dave pulled the trigger and watched the man slump over in his saddle. George loosened the rope and cast it to the side in haste, desperately gasping for air. The rest of the group continued fighting the intruders off.

Their enemies’ numbers slowly dwindled to one, who managed to retreat behind nearby rocks next to the slot canyon. He attempted to leave cover, but was forced to backtrack to avoid Marshall’s bullet.

As Dave moved past the corpses of friends and enemies alike, one in particular caught his attention. He motioned to Bill to confront the last survivor while he further examined the bloody remains.

The man could be heard cackling in the distance.

“You can let me live or die. The endin’s all the same for you!” he laughed obnoxiously.

Dave narrowed his eyes at the corpse of a woman clutching onto a pistol.

“Shit.” he muttered under his breath, then addressed Bill, George and Marshall saying, “She’s one of Lazarus’.”

The man emerged from his cover, limping towards what was left of Dave’s group. He was recognized immediately as Walker.

His laugh became more tiresome as he spoke, “Your fates are sealed. He’ll know, and b’fore long you’ll all be cold n’ clammy, six feet under!” and howled again.

“Kill him.” Dave said to Marshall, who held his rifle steady upon Walker.

He fired. Walker was silenced.

After tearing down most of their camp, they gathered around the campfire. The crackling of the flames filled the air. All sat deep in thought.

Dave let out a sigh and said, “He sent them here for our heads. They don’t come back yet, Lazarus is sure to suspect somethin’. We gotta hit ‘em first, and fast, before he can react. There’s no other choice.”

Part Four

The cold darkness enveloped the gang who sat silently around the campfire. Uncertainty filled each man’s heart at the thought of what was to come when dawn hit.

“Dave.” Bill said, at last breaking the silence, “We’re lookin’ to you for an answer. What’s it gonna be?”

Dave continued to stare into the fire, turning the idea over in his mind.

He sighed and answered, “That man is gonna pay, one way or another.”

“The hell he ain’t!” George interrupted, “He’s gonna send us to our graves, that’s what he’s gonna do!”

Dave glared at him. George understood, and looked at the floor in shame.

“You don’t have faith in me, do you George?” Dave growled.

“N-no. That’s not what I-“

“Then shut your trap and let the grown men talk.” Dave said, and turned to the other two, “We can still pull through this. We just gotta be smart about it.” He eyed the dynamite that lay in a pack nearby.

Marshall proceeded to speak with caution, “But Dave, this could be our last fight.”

Dave glanced around and noticed the look of fear in their eyes. Silence filled the air once more. All that could be heard was the flicker of the flames, and crickets chirping in the nearby field.

“All right then men.” Dave said, “In case if any of our time’s up, what would be ya’lls last wish?”

“Hell…” Bill said, reaching into his pocket, “I guess I’ll go first.”

He produced a gold pocket watch, carefully wiping the glass with his thumb and continued, “I, Bill Middleton, have one final wish. Deliver this pocket watch to my wife, Joanne Middleton and…” he exhaled deeply, “Announce my departure from this world.”

One could see through his worried eyes. He came to terms with the possibility of his death.

Marshall sighed and spoke up, “I suppose I’ll go next. I, Marshall Montgomery, have one final wish. To be buried next to my mother Susan Montgomery, back in Roanoke, Virginia.”

“Now, I ain’t as ready to jump into a grave as you fellas, but I s’pose there ain’t much left to lose. I, George Galloway, have one final wish.” He pursed his lips and continued, “And that’s to leave the family farm to my younger brother, Richard Galloway.”

Everyone turned to Dave, silently eager to know what went on through the man’s head. His face outlined by the flames grew dim.

Part Five

A couple of hours stood between them and the rising sun, forcing the men to rise from their sleep; each one stood groggier than the last. They steadily made their way to the abandoned town, and sent scouts to check the area.

“All right Marshall, got any good shots from here?” Dave asked, as he double checked his pockets to ensure everything he needed was with him.

“Yeah, I can pick off a few here.” Marshall answered.

“Good.” Dave said, then turned to the others, “Bill, George. I’m gonna need you two to flank them.”

“Are you sure we’re gonna be able to pull this off? We can still leave with our lives.” George quivered.

Dave looked at him and said, “This man may very well have the devil in him. And someone is gonna have to bring him down. It may as well be us.”

After assuming their positions, Dave gave the signal to begin the attack. Lazarus’ men were immediately alerted, and grabbed their guns in haste. In retaliation, bullets sped from across the buildings, finding them just inches away from Dave. He immediately raced back towards Bill, who decided the shop had more cover to offer.

Bill winced in pain as a stray bullet found its way into his left shoulder. He cursed under his breath, and looked to Dave in desperation.

“Dave!” he cried out, “We can’t carry on like this. They’ve already outnumbered us.” He cursed again as he clutched his shoulder.

“It ain’t over just yet.” He replied, and turned away to dig a stick of dynamite out of his coat.

Bill panicked and yelled, “Jesus, Dave! You could’ve told me you were comin’ in heavy loaded!”

“It ain’t gonna do us no good to have it back at camp now, will it?” he snapped, and lit the fuse.

Filled with anger, Dave left the safety of the shop. The last he could recall was the sensation of a bullet burrowing into his right eye.

Ash’s eyes widened in disbelief. Her storyteller finished the last of his beer.

“So, that Undead man sittin’ across from us is Dave? As in the Quick Draw Dave?”

The stranger nodded, “Well, now he’s known as Quick Draw Cadaver. The others figured that name is more suitable for him, considerin’ his current condition.”

“Bill!” called out the walking corpse, “We’re headin’ out!”

He turned back to his single audience member, and flashed her a smile, “I guess I better get goin’ then. Enjoy.”

Ash raised a glass and watched them vanish further into the streets. She replayed the tale of the Undead bounty hunter. Suddenly she felt dread as Bill’s words echoed in the distance.

If you're faint of heart, I wouldn’t stick around if I were you.

Her heart told her she hadn’t seen the last of Quick Draw Cadaver and his gang.