Good morning one and all. It seems the dripping has finally stopped and I managed to sleep without thinking there was a leaky faucet in the vicinity. It is the cures of being a light sleeper. Anyway, ready for today’s writing prompt? I can wait a minute if you need to get a cup of coffee or a new pen. Just let me know.
Now, is everyone ready? Even you in the back who looks like he has stocked up enough snacks and drinks to settle in long enough to write a full novel? Excellent. All right then, lets go!
Huh. I’m not a big western fan. In fact, the closest I’ll get to a western is Firefly. They just aren’t my thing. Apparently, they were today. And now I need to figure out what is going on with Big Jim. And who is stalking Charlie? Because I know it isn’t Big Jim. Maybe it is the mystery of it. I’ll have to give this one a bit of thought.
Wednesday, December 30th: The trail went off into the distance, disappearing around the hill.
The trail went off into the distance, disappearing around the hill. It was the perfect place for an ambush. Charlie could practically feel Big Jim’s eyes watching him, waiting for him to walk around the corner blind.
His ears twitched with it like a rabbit sensing an unseen hawk.
Charlie had been hunting Big Jim for nearly six weeks. Well, six weeks this time. He and Big Jim had a relationship stretching back years at this point. Big Jim was always doing something that put him on the wrong side of the law. He was just mean enough, and just stupid enough to always believe that the law didn’t apply to him, at least it didn’t apply to him when he was in the fits of his meanness. When the mental fog that descended with each beating, theft or whatever form of mayhem was lifted enough for him to think clearly, Big Jim ran, hoping to stay one step ahead of the law.
The law of course, called in Charlie.
And Charlie went after Big Jim. He was pretty sure they were closing in on a perfect dozen’s worth of chases.
‘Of course this time it’s different.’
That’s what had Charlie’s ears twitching as he paused on that trail, hi senses straining for any sign of Big Jim and a possible ambush.
This time Big Jim killed a man. There were more than two dozen witnesses who heard the argument, saw the scuffle and saw Big Jim gut his opponent with his hunting knife. Not that Big Jim ever went hunting for anything but trouble.
Charlie himself had seen the aftermath.
While the act itself was hard to get past, the seemingly endless ocean of blood that gushed out of one small man, it was Big Jim actually killing someone that Charlie had a hard time wrapping his head around. Big Jim was mean, big and believed himself outside of the law. Even with that, he always seemed to see some invisible line. On one side was a short stint in a cell, a heavy fine or even a chance to work off his debt. On the other side was the noose. Big Jim always kept his feet planted on the side of the line that kept him away from the hangman. While no one argued the fact that this time he crossed over that line, no one quite knew why.
Charlie knew he was the only one troubled by that. To everyone else Big Jim was just a bad ‘un who finally went too far. They considered it inevitable. But Charlie had been chasing after and hauling Big Jim back to justice for years now and there was something off about this time, some piece to the puzzle he wasn’t seeing.
The sound of a boot scraping along rock, caused all such ponderings about Big Jim’s motivation as he started worrying about his own skin. The step was soft, caused by someone trying to be stealthy. Murder may have been unusual for big Jim, but stealth was unimaginable. Charlie could see Big Jim waiting on the other side of the bend with a shot gun, but he couldn’t see him sneaking anywhere.
Which meant someone else was out here with them. Someone who didn’t want to be seen.
Ten til Midnight 