Creep

Admin Posts : 8858 Join date : 2013-08-24

Time for a new challenge, and as this is the month of Halloween, I've decided to give you:

Creep.

That can be anything that gives you the creeps, bugs, spiders, ghosts, baddies, the dark, scary lawmen, or even a creepy book or ghost story.

It can also be literally creeping up on someone or somewhere, or any animal or insect that creeps, and I'm sure your imaginative minds can come up with something of your own too.

What are you waiting for? Get writing!

Subject: Re: Creep Wed Oct 19, 2022 9:36 pm

October 2022 Challenge

Outlaw Days

The small town of Drew was the perfect place for the gang to meet after they robbed the Bank of Bare Creek. Heyes and Curry had checked out the town twice in the last six weeks. It was a crossroads for three stage lines and two major roads so during the day there was a lot of activity and strangers in the town. Its population was less than two hundred but was big enough that it had three hotels and two mercantiles, and three saloons. And a back-alley crap game that Heyes found when walking late one night. On their second visit, Heyes booked rooms in each of the three hotels under different names.

Planned down to the minute, the bank robbery needed six people. Besides the leaders, Heyes chose Wheat, Kyle, Hank, and Little Fingers to go, all men he trusted. Little Fingers pretended to be drunk. Stumbling into the head clerk as he left the bank, Little Fingers gently worked the keys out of his pocket and slipped them to Hank walking behind him. Then Little Fingers convinced the head clerk to have a drink with him as an apology.

With Wheat watching the front door from across the street and Kyle watching the back, Hank unlocked the back door of the bank. Curry took his position by the window and watched the street and the time. Heyes caressed the safe and smiled at her as he sat in front of her. He listened carefully and she was open in four minutes revealing the expected railroad payroll. They were out of there two minutes early. Hank locked the door and went to the bar where Little Fingers slipped the keys back into the bank clerk’s pocket. The gang split into groups of two and headed for Drew.

It was there that everything went wrong.

It rained, not a little light rain, but a full-on surprise Wyoming rainstorm.

“Heyes, you got that money where it ain't getting’ wet?” Curry asked as he pulled his sherpa coat collar up high.”

“It will be the last thing that stays dry.”

“That don’t make me feel any better,” Curry said.

“Should, this rain’s gonna stop soon. Look at the clouds breaking ahead.”

ASJ*****ASJ

Although the rain had cleared, the streets of Drew were running with mud when the leaders of the Devil’s Hole Gang arrived just after dark.

“Heyes, this don’t look like the same city and I’m not just talkin’ about the mud.” Curry leaned over on his horse to whisper to his cousin.

Surveying the main street, Heyes nodded. “Way too many people here.”

“Too many men here, Heyes, and a good portion of them is wearin’ badges.”

Cautiously, they took their horses to the livery. “Two horses board and feed for the night fifty cents each,” a voice called from the back. “Only got space for two more.”

Heyes looked into the stall where the voice came from. “Never saw Drew so crowded, sir. What’s going on?” he asked ever so politely.

“Interviews for US Marshals. Never heard of such a thing, but they are trying to give everyone a chance at the job,” the liveryman explained. “Town ain’t used to this many people. You got reservations?”

“Yes, sir, we do.”

“Then you're one of the lucky ones. Men gonna be sleeping all over the benches and doorways tonight. Even keeping the saloons open until eleven tonight.” He was shaking his head as he took their horses.

As they walked to the hotel, across the street, a buggy slipped sideways in the river of mud that was now main street. The wheel clipped Curry’s ankle and he sat down in a deep puddle of mud. The righted buggy kept on down the street. Two men joined a laughing Heyes to offer a hand to help him stand up.

Curry growled then looked around urgently. “Partner, my gun!” Curry knelt in the muck and started feeling around as the dark of the night melded with the mud to render their eyes useless.

“Nothin’ to be scared of. I got it.” Heyes held up the gun dripping of the mud that seemed to have penetrated every section of the weapon. “Didn’t you have the leather guard on from your holster fastened?”

“Always do, but…” The Kid showed Heyes one end of the broken loop. “Must’ve broke in the fall.”

Holding the gun at arm’s length, Curry waited while Heyes checked Mr. Joseph Slattery and Mr. Daniel Williams into their room. He spread a towel on the small table and started to take the gun apart before he even cleaned the hardening mud from his face.

“Kid, clean up a bit. Leave that for later. We need to meet the boys in the diner.”

Ten minutes later, with a change of clothes, Curry stayed alert while following his partner down the stairs. “Hey…Joseph, I feel naked without a gun and all these wanna be marshals.”

“Here take mine for now.”

“When’s the last time this was cleaned?” Curry asked as he spun it around before settling it in his holster.

“Last time you did it.”

ASJ*****ASJ

Nervous with so many would be marshals everywhere, Heyes gave instructions to leave in the same groups of two and be careful. If this was an open invitation, there were probably would-be marshals camping on every road into Drew. Just the thought of them made Curry nervous, although only Heyes knew him well enough to tell. Wheat was wary but playing it lowkey. Kyle couldn’t sit still.

Heyes leaned close to Wheat. “Get your food to go and get Kyle out of here. He’s so nervous he’s drawing attention to us.” There seemed to be a large boisterous group standing just outside the front door.

“Shooting contest tomorrow. Let’s see what you can do, hotshot.” The men were gathered around a man in his twenties, dressed neatly in black. Heyes closed his eyes and nudged Curry. Glancing over his shoulder, Curry turned back around quickly and scooted his chair around, so his back was to the door.

“Francis One-Shot Sheldon?” he whispered to Heyes.

“Sheriff Francis One-Shot Sheldon of Victory Springs,” Heyes repeated.

Kyle’s mouth fell open. “Didn’t the Kid get into a shootin’ contest with him last year…and lost?”

Curry growled, Dan Williams got into a shootin’ contest with him and lost on purpose. Was hard to do. The man can’t hit nothing he aims at. Still don’t know if he would remember me.”

“Aw, Kid, how could he forget?” Heyes teased.

Electing to skip the gathering crowd and go to their room, Heyes and Curry slipped out the back door and into the middle of the crap game. The players started to run.

“Boys, we don’t mean you no harm. Go on playing,” Heyes said with a charming, dimpled smile. “We’re just passing through.”

Every set of eyes watched them as they tried to step carefully around the small pile of bets on the ground.

“Sorry for the interruption; enjoy your game!” Heyes waved as he turned the corner onto the street and into Curry’s back.

“Well, if it isn’t Dan Williams.” Heyes recognized the voice of Sheriff One-Shot Sheldon. “Care to shoot with me?”

“Well, One-Shot, I think we already had that contest, and you were the winner.” Curry’s voice was low as he looked over the men in front of him.

Heyes had gone to stand on the other end of the group, with a small grin on his face, but this was serious. Some of these men were lawmen. They might put the two drifters in Drew together with the names Heyes and Curry.

Curry felt himself being pushed in the middle of the crowd toward a corral with bottles set on it. “Let’s go for it, Mr. Williams.”

The partners had learned the had earned the nickname one shot because he never hit anything with just one shot. He liked the name and kept it telling people he could hit anything in one shot.

One-Shot went first, hitting two of the six bottles and knocking one off the fence.

Curry concentrated on finding another target to aim at. He drew quickly and fired six quick shots scattering the men watching. He hit everything to his left. The livery building, the fence, and a couple went in the dirt where the crowd had been standing.

Visibly shaken, Curry stared at the gun in his hand. He saw Wheat in the back of the crowd with a satisfied smile.

“Don’t worry, Williams, you can’t win them all. That’s why I’m gonna be one of the ones they pick to train as a United States Marshall.” One-Shot patted him on the back. “Better luck next time. Practice some and we’ll shoot again next time our paths cross.”

As the crowd dispersed, Heyes came to stand next to Curry. They both stared at the gun in his hand. “Hey…Joe, how do you ever shoot this gun?”

“I don’t need to very often. That’s why I hang around you.”

Curry turned to Heyes. His cornflower blue eyes darkened with anger.

“Daniel, let’s get back to the hotel before someone hears about that great shooting and thinks you’re Kid Curry,” he teased, but Curry stayed angry.

In the hotel, Curry threw the offending weapon on Heyes bed. “What if our lives had depended on that gun, Heyes? Have you ever thought of that?” The Kid's voice rose but fell when he realized the walls might be thin. “I’d have shot better with my gun full of mud.”

Heyes went to pick up the gun.

“Leave it there. When I finish cleanin’ my gun, I’ll clean yours…and fix it. I ain’t never shot a gun with trigger creep like that one. You aim forward and it shoots left, and the trigger is so gritty you almost pull it twice.”

“Maybe that’s why you say I twist when I shoot. I correct the creep.”

Curry looked sternly at Heyes, but his eyes had calmed. “So, if I fix the creep, you won’t be able to shoot straight,” he teased.

They both laughed hearty deep laughs until Curry thought about the story Wheat would be telling the gang when they returned.

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