The Rifleman - Bk1 - Ch.4

Chapter Four

One Shot

Wes lay in the grass and tried his best to look like a rock. A few dozen feet away was a pair of Flat Horn Deer. The buck was massive, muscles rippling on its legs as it stomped one hoof. The horn he had come for lay at the feet of the victor. 

A slight disagreement over the doe would have been Wesley’s guess, but now there was a dead buck and one very happy buck. The doe didn’t seem bothered either way, which seemed a little cold to Wes.

Still, it was a good opportunity.

All Wesley had to do now was wait for the victor to stop prancing around and piss off before the smell of blood attracted another of those damn hyenas. Back home, he could have let off a round, sending the things running for the hills. Here? 

Who knew if they even reacted to gunshots? Or how? 

The new lovebirds moved off at last, and Wes scurried forward, touched the carcass, and swore. He couldn’t loot things he hadn’t killed himself. It had been something he considered might be a problem, so he had a plan.

Admittedly, the plan involved hitting the skull around the horn with an axe until it shattered, but it was still, technically, a plan.

And it worked. It worked in the worst way possible, and Wesley was glad his stomach was empty when the axe finally cracked open the skull. 

Brains smelled weird… who knew?

Five minutes later, he was hurrying away from the corpse with a perfect, if slightly bloody, and brain-smeared antler wrapped in the tarp in his backpack. Without even firing a shot. All in all, a good start.

While taking a wide, circular route around the outside of the village, Wesley kept his eyes open, scanning for any signs of fighting or unmoving shapes. The game world was apparently far from peaceful. He saw several fights, but in each case, the challenger fled before dying. I mean, would it kill them to try a little harder?

His next horn came from a losing buck who had failed to flee early enough. He had seen it laying on one side, chest heaving fitfully, from a reasonable distance away. The pain-filled eyes followed him as he approached, and they tried to rise, only to collapse back down. Wesley’s nose told him the problem before his eyes saw the deep gash, clearly infected. Pus was oozing from the wound, and black lines were visible under the inflamed skin.

“Shit, bud,” Wesley winced, “That probably doesn’t feel great.” He reached to unshoulder his rifle, and his hand brushed where his shoulder tattoo was. It was a terrible idea, given how he needed the horn… but…

“I’ll just go ahead and call this testing; that’s a good excuse. I’m totally not just a soft-hearted git.” Wesley said to himself, reaching toward the injury.

The buck went crazy, kicking and struggling before collapsing once more.

“Easy there,” Wes said, trying to stroke the animal, hoping to calm it. The skin felt hot, sweat streaking the short fur. “Eww,” Wes said, quickly taking his hand away. “No offence,” He wiped his hand on his trousers and focused on what he was trying to do. The first Minor Heal was less than effective. Nothing visibly changed, but the buck did seem to calm a little. It even turned to watch him as he tried again.

He could see something happening by the third cast, but it was damnably slow. The fourth attempt failed, and it felt like someone was ripping his arm off for a second. So… this was going to take a while. 

An hour and a half later, he was still there. The Minor Heal seemed to get a charge every twenty minutes or so. He was guessing because he had neither a phone nor a watch. Still, he had always had a good sense of time, and his instincts were telling him it was twenty minutes. 

The buck was doing really well. Somewhere along the way, it seemed to get the idea that he was helping, so it sat quietly while he did his thing. The wound itself was looking a lot better as well. The pus and stench were gone, along with the black lines. It was bleeding gently but nothing major. The blood looked healthy, with a rich color. Wesley was sure that was a good sign.

Probably.

“Okay, I think a double hit should do it,” He told his silent patient while he rubbed his hands together and waited to feel the signal from his skill that the second charge was ready. All the attempts had given him a good feel for the skill, and he could feel the slight click as the second charge readied. Two casts would almost complete the healing, but it would not quite do it… so Wesley was going to try one more experiment. Instead of a single cast, he tried to cast it twice in the same instant. The feel of the spell changed as the two casts merged into one, rushing down his arm and into his hand before jumping across the small gap and into the buck.

The wound healed before his eyes, the skin knitting together and fur sprouting in the new flesh. 

“Yes!” Wes leaped to his feet, cheering. 

He had forgotten that the buck was a wild animal until the startled deer kicked him hard in the stomach. He collapsed, gasping for breath and really hoping the twenty-minute cooldown was going to hurry along because that… that fucking hurt.

He laughed as he rolled over on his back and saw the buck approaching. He froze in place as the heavy hooves came to a rest next to his head, and the buck leaned down, sniffed his hair, and gave him one long, slow lick.

Then, it huffed and trotted away.

“Well, if nothing else, I got a kick out of that,” Wesley chuckled as he got painfully to his feet, collected his pack and rifle, and looked around for his next target.

“Please be empty, please, please, please!” Wesley huffed as he slammed the axe into the skull. He had no idea what had happened to this Flat Horn; all that remained was the skull and a few bits of chewed ribcage. All completely free of flesh, the bones bleaching in the sun. 

It was a hell of a find and his second horn to collect without having to kill for no reason. Of course, he still had to collect the horn itself, which was why he was on his knees, hacking through a skull and praying that the inside was as empty and desiccated as the outside had been.

It was not.

If he ever actually had anything in his stomach Wesley would have to remember that in a real world, even a game one, things stink. Like rotten brain matter… bleurgh.

Once the cramps and nausea finally passed, Wesley J. Lancaster realized he was not alone. It was a feeling more than anything. A silence in the landscape. A sense of being watched.

It was creepy as hell.

Climbing to his feet, Wes wiped his mouth and looked around, rifle at the ready as his eyes scanned his surroundings. At first, nothing seemed out of place. A few deer in the distance but nothing else. He hurried to wrap the horn and added it to his pack, still feeling that something was making his skin crawl.

Looking around again, Wesley finally saw something. It was a Flat Horn Deer. There were several wandering around, but one stood completely still, and now that he was looking, staring at him. 

“Okay, that’s weird,” Wes muttered to himself.

The deer started to walk towards him. First, a single step, then two, then it stopped and pawed the ground. 

Wes looked down at the shattered skull and swallowed. 

“Friend of yours?” Wesley wondered aloud.

The Flat Horn charged.

There was no cover nearby and no chance to outrun the creature, so Wes dropped to one knee, raised the rifle, and fired three shots in quick succession.

He was sure at least two of them hit, and then he was rolling aside as the buck thundered past.

Pulling the bayonet from its sheath and fitting it to the stud as he completed the roll, Wes turned and fired twice more. The buck was on him again, head down and butting at him as the hooves churned the ground. Blood streamed from its chest and side, but the rage was keeping it going somehow. 

Wesley frantically jumped aside as a kick almost connected before stabbing the bayonet into the buck’s neck and twisting the rifle before pulling it back. Blood fountained from the hole, and the creature collapsed a few seconds later.

Its eyes still rolled as the chest heaved, the foam around its mouth turning pink as it began to struggle.

Wesley didn’t hesitate, aiming and putting a pair of shots through the skull before slumping to his knees. He gasped, his lungs seeming unable to catch up with his body's needs. At least the shakes and panic passed more quickly this time. 

Once Wesley felt more himself again, he looted the buck, getting hide, meat, and the horn as his reward. 

His mind kept drifting back to the feeling he had gotten before the creature even attacked, and he broke into a cold sweat each and every time.

With a heavy sigh, he swilled his mouth out with water before draining the rest of the canteen and starting to hike back toward the village.

With any luck, he could make it early enough to refill his canteen and visit the Market.

“It’s called Killing Intent,” Gem said as she handed him the silver for completing the request. He had asked her because, well, it was weird. “Some classes and animals can generate it.” She tucked a loose hair behind her ear as she spoke, “Think of it as a hidden skill, like focusing your will to kill on a specific target. It gives a short-term burst of power, but the target can feel you doing it. Some use it as an intimidation tactic, others so they can attack up the totem tiers when they are close to a crossover.”

They chatted for another couple of minutes, but Wes wanted to hit up the Market before sundown forced him out of the village. He excused himself and hurried over to the Market, seeing Macy notice him in line and scowling.

“Selling, please, Macy,” He said immediately. “I have a Flat Horn Deer hide today.”

“No jokes today?” She scowled.

“I didn’t mean any offense, honestly,” Wes said calmly, “I figured you might prefer if I just did my business and left.” He pushed the hide over the counter and waited.

“Now, I ain’t unfriendly,” She replied while examining the hide. “So let’s just forget it and move on.”

“Kind of you, thank you.” Wesley nodded.

It seemed the right thing to say as she flashed a quick smile before offering him five silver for the hide. He didn’t argue and simply took the money, thanked her, and left.

“See you again!” She called as he left.

Okay, so it wasn’t much. As far as social interactions went, it was barely worth noticing, but the small victory of repairing any damage done with the one and only shopkeeper put a bit of a spring in his step as he headed for the village gate that evening.

He bade Keller good night and ducked out the gates, looking forward to a dinner of venison.

//////////////

Wesley sat up, eyes bleary as he struggled out from under his blanket. It was still pitch black beyond the fire that was now more glowing embers outside his tarp tent. 

Something was happening by the village gates, and it sounded pretty bad. He could hear Keller yelling loudly in the night, the words a tinny-sounding foreign language. It reminded him of the sound of the man’s voice before Wes read the primer. 

There were other shouts as well. Someone was screaming.

Wesley used Reload and loaded his Garand rifle before slipping out of his tent and making his way toward the village gate, keeping low to the ground to avoid being seen by whatever was causing a ruckus.

Tucking himself in beside a small boulder, he peered around the side and saw the torches burning brightly on the village gate, with Keller shouting down from the guard tower next to it.

In front of the gate was a woman, disheveled and angry. Whoever this woman was, she had a younger woman by the hair and was threatening her with a knife.

There was more shouting, and eventually, the woman grabbed a familiar-looking wooden slab and stared at it for a moment…

“There,” She snarled a moment later, “I speak your language. Now, open the gates!”

“No entry after sundown. You were told that before.” Keller growled. “So let the woman go!”

“Hah!” The aggressor spat, “I have one of your people now. You open these gates, or I kill her!”

The woman shook the hand twisted in the blond hair of her captive, making the woman scream again. Wesley looked closer at the pair. The one causing all the problems was wearing slacks and a blouse. The details were slightly different from what they had on Earth, but it was clearly close enough. The woman herself had brown hair, a deep, rich color bound into a complex braid that had started to break down. Her clothes were also muddy and stained with what looked like blood.

He was wondering why Keller hadn’t shot the stranger yet when he saw the man raise his crossbow. The stranger ducked behind her hostage instantly, her form blurring slightly. Wesley was sure it had to be a skill of some sort.

“I will kill her!” The woman snarled. “I will!”

“Stop this now, and you will still be allowed to enter the village tomorrow.” Keller intoned. “Persist, and you will be banned.”

“No!” The woman snarled and stabbed the strange curved knife she had into the captive’s shoulder. “No! You have to open up. I can’t live out here!” As the hostage screamed and cried in pain, Wes reluctantly dropped to his knees and sighted along his rifle. 

For a split second, he got a look at the face of the woman wielding the knife. She looked frenzied, terrified, and determined all at the same time. There was no doubt in his mind that this situation would end badly.

“We do not open the gates after sundown. So is the law.” Keller lowered his crossbow. “Even if you kill her, even if you had a dozen of our people. The law is the law.”

“Liar!” The woman screamed at him, eyes flashing where the torchlight caught them. “Liar! You can open those gates, and you will, or you will listen to her scream as she dies!” She yanked the blond woman’s head around as she screamed. “You have to! You have to!”

The hostage was weeping, but she closed her eyes at the words. You could hear madness in the words. 

“I will tell your people of this,” Keller said to the hostage. “You have my sympathies.”

“No!” The woman snarled. “I’ll make her scream! You watch her scream!” With that, she grabbed the hostage again, form blurring as she dodged the desperate shot from Keller.

Wesley saw the knife flash as she raised it.

“I’m sorry,” Wesley whispered and pulled the trigger.

Blood fountained from the head of the dark-haired woman as her face went slack, and she dropped. Like a switch had been thrown.

Before the shock and regret could freeze Wesley in place, the hostage screamed again. 

He was running across to the injured woman before he even realized he was doing it. Dropping to his knees next to her, Wes cast Minor Heal, and the wound began to close. 

“Stop!” The woman scrabbled at him, “Get away!” She was panicked and scared and fighting him as he tried to heal her.

“Cease!” Keller yelled. “Stephany, he is a healer. Let him work!”

“Yes, Guardsman Keller,” The woman immediately calmed, which was a shock but one he had no time to figure out. The shoulder wound was still bleeding profusely. 

The single cast had not done enough, so he triggered the double heal as he pressed his hand against the wound. Again, he felt the skill merge and change as he used it.

The effect was strong enough this time that the wound closed almost instantly. Of course, there was still the blood loss, which was significant enough to leave the woman woozy. Unless it was the stress and, let’s be honest, that was understandable.

“Okay, all done,” Wesley said gently. “Just be careful for a bit. You lost quite a bit of blood there, and it may make you feel dizzy, weak, or tired.” He smiled, “Stephany, was it?”

“Th-thank you,” She said, pulling her arm from his grasp. “Please, go now.”

“Sure, sure,” Wes wasn’t surprised she would be feeling distrustful. “Keller, make sure she gets something to eat, okay?” He called up to the Guardsman.

“The gates will not open until morning,” Keller said coldly, “It is law.”

“Sure, for me,” Wesley acknowledged. “I’m leaving; just make sure someone stays with her, okay?”

“The gates will not open until morning. For anyone,” Keller said. “A rope will be lowered for her. Do not attempt to climb it.”

“Okay,” Wes shook his head tiredly. “Can I hang around and make sure she is okay?” 

“There is no law against it,” Keller allowed.

So Wesley watched as unseen hands lowered a rough rope over the wall. Stephany kept a wary eye on him as she tied a complicated harness around herself, and then she was raised jerkily over the wall.

Wes watched until Keller had her and then called a farewell. He was a few steps away when the man called out to him.

“Well done, Rifleman. The village will not forget this service.” 

Keller was nowhere to be seen by the time Wesley looked back. With a half smile, Wes turned to get the worst over with and loot the body of the woman he had killed.