Born in the Apocalypse 2: State Of Ruin by Joseph Talluto Read Free Book Online Page B

noticed he kept his hand near his own weapon, a large revolver of some kind.
    “Not much to tell. You deputy there took my rifle, and then poked me in the chest with his finger. I didn’t much care for that, so I returned the favor, so to speak,” I said.
    “That’s a lie! I never touched you! I…!” Mahome was livid with rage.
    “Jim!” Bowers barked over his shoulder and Mahome quieted. “Are you leaving, son?” The sheriff asked.
    I looked around, and there were people standing on the porches of homes up and down the street. Behind me, I could hear Trey and his family walking out onto the porch of their house.
    “On my way now, Sheriff. I don’t want any trouble. Just visiting a friend. I brought in a couple of orphans from outside, that’s all. I’ll collect my horse and be gone,” I said.
    “Hold it!” Mahome said. “This is bullshit! This kid assaulted me and you’re letting him go? Sir, I have to object!”
    Bowers was about to reply when Mahome stepped in front of him.
    “Gun! Sir, he’s got a gun!” Deputy Mahome shouted reaching for his weapon.
    He got his gun halfway out when he stopped suddenly. My Colt was out and pointing towards his gut. His eyes got huge and it seemed like he couldn’t figure out what to do with his hand.
    Sheriff Bowers held his hands out. “Hold it! Nobody shoot! Just hold it!”
    I put my gun back in my holster, but I kept my hand on it. “I just want to leave,” I said quietly, keeping an eye on the deputy. “That’s all I want to do.”
    Sheriff Bowers kept his hand out, but his other hand was now on his gun. He nodded his head. “And that works out just fine for us, son. You go ahead and gather your horse and head on out.” 
    I started walking down the street, keeping my ear cocked for noise behind me. I passed several people standing on their porches and they all watched me walk past. I couldn’t read their faces.
    Suddenly, I heard a shout, and I turned around to see Mahome pointing his gun at me. I heard a shot, and something whipped past my head. I fell backwards, and there was another shot. It was loud, and it echoed under the trees. I heard screams, and one person shouted, “No, Josh!” It might have been Trey.
    I scrambled to my feet, checked my gun, and found that it was in its holster. Down the street, Sheriff Bowers was kneeling over a prone Deputy Mahome.
    The sheriff stood slowly, shaking his head. He walked over to me, and the look on his face was full of sadness.
    “Son, it was self-defense, that’s for sure. I don’t know what came over Mahome, but I’d take it as a personal favor if you never came back to Manhattan,” he said.
    “I didn’t shoot him!” I protested. “My gun never left my holster!”
    “Check your loads, Josh,” Bowers said quietly.
    I pulled my gun and sure enough, there was a spent round under the hammer. I felt sick. I liked this town.
    “Time to go, son,” Sheriff Bowers said. “And please don’t come back.”
    “What if I do?” I said, starting to feel angry.
    “I’ll have to tell the men on the wall to take you down. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is.” Bowers seemed genuinely sorry.
    I looked back at Trey and his family, and every single one of them couldn’t look me in the eye.
    “He shot at me! That’s not fair!” I said. Even as the words left my mouth, I knew it was useless.
    “Maybe not, but a man who don’t know he’s killing is a man I can’t afford to have in this town. You’re unholy fast with that six-gun, son. You might want to leave it behind next time you go to a town,” Bowers said.
    I didn’t say a word. I just left. I didn’t look back, left or right. I just walked away from the eyes and the whispers.
    I rode Judy all the way home. It was dark by the time I got to the house. I put my horse away and went inside. I spent a long time staring at my gun and the empty shell casing that used to be a man’s life.
    I didn’t understand why they didn’t understand. I