The Outlaw

by Lucas Rivera

 Tom's heart thundered in time with his feet as he pounded through the town's wide streets. All around him, townsfolk ran screaming every which way. Spell shots rang out and exploded into storms of ice, waves of rock, and huge explosions that could be seen even over the tall tiled roofs. Tom ran into a terrified man and fell hard to the ground, pain flaring from his back. Groaning, he rolled back to his feet quickly. The ranger turned to see the man he had run into literally scrambling away on his hands and knees before hurriedly getting back to his feet and sprinting away as fast as his legs could carry him.

"How in the hell did things get this bad this fast?", Tom thought as he continued running back to the inn, "I was only gone for a few minutes... wasn't I?"

He thought he had, but looking up at the sun’s position he saw that he had actually been in there for the better part of an hour. He really shouldn’t be surprised, that spellforger’s shop had been anything but normal.

As the ranger ran through the crumbling town he spotted one of the men responsible for all the destruction standing in an alley. He was dressed in shabby, patched clothing mostly brown and tan. He had a scraggly beard and a dented spellsinger in his hand pointed directly at a pair of children who looked to be no older than ten. That was all Tom noticed before he drew his slinger, cocked it, and fired faster than a man could count to two. A huge glacial wall of ice erupted between the terrified children and their assailant a split second before the outlaw's spell reached them. A huge explosion of fragmented crystal erupted from the wall Tom had conjured, but neither of the men paid it any mind. They were focused only on each other. The ranger and the bandit stood no more than fifty feet apart, hands on slingers, waiting for the other to budge first. This went on for seconds that felt like hours. Then, suddenly, the unkept man raised his slinger and fired a lava spell, spewing a wave of molten rock down the narrow alleyway. Quick as a flash the ranger countered with a water and wind spell to cool the magma and harden it to stone. The bandit continued his attacks and sent two bands of fire streaking for Tom's head. The ranger rolled out of the way and came up firing an Earth spell toward the bearded man to gain himself some time for his next spell.

The bandit narrowly avoided the boulder Tom fired at him with a stifled curse, and when he looked back to where the blasted ranger had been standing he saw nothing. Just behind him, he heard the cocking of a slinger. After that, he didn't hear anything.

Tom staggered back tiredly. Using wind spells on himself left him breathless for a moment, but the results were always worth it. They never saw it coming. Moving that fast was... exhilarating. He stared at the body of the bandit laid out in front of him and kicked dirt over the corpse. Let the dogs have him. A tiny sound of fright made him turn to see the two children still huddled together quaking with fear. Upon closer inspection, he realized his first estimation of their age was off. The boy and girl before him couldn't have been older than eight. Splinters of ice and crystal surrounded them, but they looked largely unharmed. The ranger quickly strode over and knelt in front of them so he was eye-level with them.

"Hey kiddos", he said in what he hoped was a reassuring voice, "Where's your momma?"

They simply looked up at him with frightened eyes and said nothing, apparently too terrified even to say anything.

"Oh come now, it's alright", the ranger said awkwardly, holstering his slinger to appear less threatening, "The bad man's gone. No one here'll hurt you. Just tell me where your momma is so I can get you back to her, hows that sound hm?"

His reassurances seemed to invigorate the girl because she pointed a shaking hand towards a nearby burning building, "W-we was runnin' back home because of the bad men when we saw it catch fire", she spoke in a voice somewhere between a sob and a squeak of terror, "and then the bad man came and started pointin' his slinger at us, mister."

Tom turned to regard the burning building and it wasn't in good shape. The roof had already caved in and it looked as though the walls would go soon as well. Anyone in there would surely die when that happened. Unless someone intervened.

"You just stay here alright?", he said to the shivering children, "And if I or your parents aren't back in ten minutes I want you to go find some adult and hide with 'em. Clear?"

Both of the children hurriedly nodded and Tom turned away from them and settled his hat more securely on his head. What had he gotten himself into?

As he ran to the raging inferno that encased the house Tom checked his spells. He only had four water spells and one frost spell to work with. He hoped it would be enough. The house was a two-storied affair with brick walls, which is probably the only reason it was still standing at all. Still, the support beams would give way any moment and with them, the house would fall as though it was made of paper. The ranger kicked down the door and covered his mouth to protect against the smoke. He could hardly see anything through it, but he could at least make out that he was in some kind of kitchen. He fired his slinger and a torrent of water erupted from the barrel, extinguishing most of the fire.

That was one gone already. He made his way to the next room. This room seemed to be a parlor of some sort, still no one in sight. Tom felt his heart sink, either they were upstairs or already gone. Or both. He tried not to think about that possibility. Tom reached the stairs and found them completely engulfed in flames. He concentrated for a moment, picturing exactly what he wanted the spell to do, then fired the frost spell to both stifle the flames and reinforce the weakened wood stairs. Frost crept up the beams of the stairs and the fire sizzled as it fought against the cool snow-like substance that crept onto the wood. He took a cautious step onto the first step and felt it creak ominously under his weight, but it held. He quickly made his way up to the next story and breathed a sigh of relief when he reached the top. The relief didn't last long. Before him, the room was filled with fire, not a single part of it was safe.

Furthermore, the roof had collapsed into the room and added fuel for the inferno. Tom was about to give up and try and help the children find someone else to take care of them, but then he saw a figure struggling under the rubble. A man, attempting to hold up the weight of the collapsed roof that pinned him and his wife to the floor. The woman wasn't moving. Tom fired another water spell and cleared a path to the wreckage before holstering his slinger to help the man push against the roof. No words were said, neither man had the time nor energy to waste on that. They both just heaved for all they were worth, the townsman pushing and Tom pulling. Slowly, agonizingly, the wreckage moved. By inches, yes, but it did move. Smoke billowed in the room and Tom felt his eyes begin to tear up. Then when there was enough space the townsman shoved his wife out of the wreckage before collapsing with exhaustion. Without his help, Tom couldn't keep the roof up by himself and it collapsed back onto the townsman, pinning him once more.

"What're you doing?", Tom yelled, "keep pushing damnit!"

The townsman shook his head and gasped, "She's free you fool, get her out of here while you still can!"

Tom stepped back and fired another water spell to keep the fire at bay for a few more seconds. One more left. He turned back to the man, "Bull! I came here for two, and I ain't leavin' without two."

The townsman panted into the floorboards and shook his head slowly, "I ain't got nothin' left to give. Just get outta here!"

Tom gritted his teeth and slapped the man in the face. Hard. "I ain't leavin' here till you're out, and that means your wife ain't leavin' neither. So either help me get this off you or keep riskin' your wife's life."

The ranger saw the man's face go slack with incredulity before hardening into a scowl, "You damned fool! Just leave!"

But he began to heave against the wreckage again. Tom fired his last water spell to keep the flames at bay a little longer. This had to work. Both men again put all their weight against the wreckage and felt it creak upwards again slowly. This time it was even harder, and the wreckage felt even heavier. Sweat streamed down the ranger's face. The flames were getting closer. He felt a cough trapped in his throat but he refused to let it out. He was afraid it might make his grip slip. Tom could tell the man was about to give up, he could see it in his face. He thought desperately of something he could say to keep the man in the fight. "Your children are waitin' for you outside!"

The townsman looked up stupefied, "W-what?"

"Your kids", Tom continued, heaving with all his might, "They're outside, waitin' for their momma and poppa. You gonna make 'em grow up without a man in their life?"

That ignited a fire in the man's eyes and he worked with renewed vigor. Tom could feel his muscles groaning under the weight, and the man's arms were beginning to tremble from the exertion, but slowly he was getting free. Then, just when both men were about to give out, Tom quickly said to the man through labored breath, "Alright, now on the count of three I'm gonna pull you and I want you to get outta the way as quick as possible alright?"

The man said nothing but the ranger had to assume that he'd heard so he counted, "One... two... three!", and on the last number Tom grabbed the man by his collar and pulled with all his might. At the same time the townsman threw himself out from under the wreckage and lay for a moment in a panting heap. After a few seconds Tom rolled the man over, "Come on man! In case you haven't noticed the building's still on fire!", Tom gathered up the woman onto his shoulders, "Can you walk?"

To his credit the man quickly stumbled to his feet and replied, "Just give me a shoulder to lean on and let's get the hell outta dodge."

Tom nodded curtly and the man leaned on his shoulder to the stairs. The flames were now licking their heels and the smoke was all around them, but they were almost out. They rushed down the weak stairs and again they creaked ominously. Halfway down one of the steps gave out. Tom, the townsman, and the woman Tom was carrying all went tumbling down the rest of the way. Groaning the ranger and man slowly got to their feet and, with the woman again on Tom's shoulders, stumbled out of the blazing house just as the rest of the roof gave in.

The two children rushed forward to their parents and their father embraced them with tears in his eyes, comforting them with hushed words. As this was happening Tom carefully set down their mother and checked her over. She was breathing in and out quickly. Too quickly. Like she couldn’t get enough breath. Tom began checking her pulse. It took him a moment to find, but it was there, fluttering lightly like a small bird tentatively singing in the morning. Tom drew his slinger and checked on the spirit shot. The ranger was starting to think the spellforger was right when he said Tom would need it soon.

Suddenly, the woman began to cough fitfully. The ranger pointed the slinger at her and prepared the spirit shot when the woman stopped coughing. He hesitated and put his slinger down to check her pulse again. It seemed to be stronger. Her breathing was also deeper and easier. Whatever had brought on that coughing fit, it seemed to have stabilized her for now. Tom slowly holstered his slinger and turned to the family.

"She seems to be doing better now", the ranger said, "Find a house to hide in, then stay there till these flamin' outlaws leave. That's your best chance."

The father slowly got to his feet and offered his hand to Tom, "Thank you", the man said, eyes full of gratitude, "I don't know how to repay you."

The ranger took his hand and shook it, "Just promise me you'll survive so all my work wasn't for nothing."

The man nodded and quickly shouldered his wife with the help of his children and they began to search for a safe house to hide in. Tom watched them go till they disappeared into a neighbor's house then set off running once again towards the inn.

Finally, the inn came into view and miraculously it looked relatively unscathed. All he had to do now was go around the back to where his horse Shadow was hitched and find the others, maybe they could slip awa–

The crack of a slinger firing behind him interrupted his thoughts and he immediately dropped into a roll. He heard the shot buzz over his head and slam into the side of the inn with a boom. Tom came to his feet with both his slingers drawn and cocked and spun around to face his assailant.

Before him stood a man just short of his middle years clad head to toe in black. At first, Tom thought it was just that he was seeing the man's silhouette against the blazing town, but no. He wore a black coat with midnight pants and shiny coal boots. He stared at Tom from under the brim of his shadowy hat. Even the man's short beard was black as pitch. The only splash of color on him was on a glove he wore on his right hand. It was the color of dried blood. The outlaw tilted his hat back and gave Tom a lazy smile before holstering his slinger, "Well now, aren't you light on your feet?", he spoke in an easy drawl, "You just might be who I came here lookin' for."

Tom's grip tightened on his slingers, "And you are?", the ranger called out.

The outlaw doffed his hat, though Tom noticed he made sure to use his left hand and his right never strayed far from his hip, "I'm known by many names boy, the Frontier Reaper, the Bloody Hand, the Shadow of the Badlands, etcetera etcetera", he made a vague gesture with his left hand. He settled his hat back on his head, "but you can call me Jack Riley."

Slinger shots still rang out all around Tom. He couldn't get tied down in this conversation, but he didn’t want to turn his back on the strange outlaw. He needed to settle this quickly.

"Well then... Jack... why do you think I'm the one you're lookin' for?", Tom said, slowly edging backward towards the inn.

"Simple boy, you're the only fella I've run into that isn't a sniveling townsfolk", Jack said jovially, "And you look like you've been around these parts."

"I suppose I have", Tom answered evenly, "But what do you want with me because, beggin’ your pardon, I don't know who the hell you are."

Jack idly scratched his beard with a bemused expression on his face, "Then you must not have been here long son", Jack's face suddenly grew as hard and cold as a stone wall, "But to answer your question I want the Eye, and I want it now. Imma givin' you five seconds to rummage in your pockets and hand it over before I blow your head off.”

Tom gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on his slingers even further. This man was really starting to bother him. "You seem to have forgotten that I'm the one with the slingers, and yours is still in its holster."

Jack seemed unbothered by this and simply said, "Four."

Tom tried a different approach, "Besides, I don't even know what in blazes you're talking about man!"

Again the outlaw was unperturbed, "Three."

The ranger narrowed his eyes at the man, "Fine then, have it your way."

Jack continued, "Tw-"

Tom fired his slinger right in the middle of the outlaw's count. A fountain of fire erupted from the barrel of his slinger and washed over the spot where Jack had been standing.

As the fires died away, however, Tom was left speechless. Jack was still there, surrounded by a fierce sphere of wind that had kept the flames from ever touching him. But how? The man would've had to draw his slinger, cock it, select his spell, and fire all in the time Tom had simply pulled the trigger of his slinger! That was impossible! No man was that fast. Yet there he stood slinger in hand and completely unfazed by Tom's spell.

Before the ranger had time to react, Jack fired another spell, and a storm of ice needles tore toward him, more than Tom had ever thought possible to cast from one spell. Just before they reached Tom, though, he felt a hard shove, and he was suddenly on his side in the dirt. Dazed, it took him a moment to realize what had happened. He had been tackled by someone very large and very heavy. Einar's brutish face looked down at him as he shouted, "What in blazes are you doin' kid? It's time to go!"

The grizzled old cook hauled Tom to his feet. It was only then that he saw why Jack Riley hadn't sent more spells at them. He was dueling the wind. Kenshi Sato, Last of the Emperor's Swords, danced like the wind around Jack. Each spell he sent was slashed, hacked, or outright dodged. Each wave of fire, cleaved in two. Each wall of Earth, avoided with all the grace of a prancing deer. Nothing could touch him. But the same was true for the outlaw. Kenshi couldn't make any ground on Jack. Every time his sword got close to the outlaw's throat a spell forced him to redirect his blade. Each time Jack had to reload it seemed as though it was over, but he was so blazingly fast that his slinger was fully loaded again before Kenshi could get close enough to end it. Tom shook his head in amazement, but this couldn't continue. Either the outlaw would run out of spells or Kenshi would tire, but something would give. Then suddenly something did.

The crack of a spell firing filled the courtyard in front of the inn, but it wasn't from Jack's slinger. A small, concentrated coil of fire snaked towards Jack. He only just dodged out of the way before it connected with his heart. Before he had fully recovered Kenshi was already on him, sword glittering menacingly. For just a moment Jack and Tom locked eyes and time seemed to slow to a crawl. The outlaw's eyes held nothing but hatred in them. Bitter hatred. Not only for Tom but for everything. The whole damn world. Jack raised his slinger and fired... and suddenly he was gone. Tom could just make out the trail of dust the outlaw had raised while he ran under the effects of a wind spell, just as Tom had done not twenty minutes earlier.

The ranger turned to see the source of the spells that had nearly ended the outlaw and found Jolene lying on one of the roofs with her long-ranged slinger. Seeing the danger was gone, she began to climb hurriedly down to the ground cursing and yelling the whole way down, "There you are you damned ranger! We have to go, the whole town is crawlin' with these flamin' outlaws! We’ve waited for you long enough, we have to go now!"

Tom nodded and the whole group ran to the stables. On the way the ranger yelled to them, "Y'all could've gone on ahead, I woulda caught up."

Einar laughed a deep, booming laugh as he struggled up onto his saddle, "Oh please, had I been a second later in tacklin' you there would've been about a dozen needles in yer hide boy."

Tom could do nothing but mumble something very unsavory under his breath as he swung into his own saddle. The grizzled old cook cupped his ear and put on a puzzled expression, "That's a strange way o' thanking me for savin' your life Tommy boy."

The ranger shot him a bemused look, "What've I got to thank you for? You bruised the hell outta my stomach slammin' into me like that."

Now Jolene jumped in and began tutting like a mother checking over her injured child, "Awww does the fragile little ranger need a warm bed and some hot milk?"

Tom opened his mouth indignantly to respond but Kenshi finally broke in, "In case you three have forgotten, we have a town to escape from."

The ranger and the gambler shot confused glances at each other as the blademaster mounted his chestnut brown mare, "You mean to say you're comin' with us?" Jolene asked, "Why?"

Kenshi began to steer his horse out of the stable and called flippantly over his shoulder, "Because I want to."

Jolene thought for a moment before deciding that she'd rather have Kenshi and his big sword along to get between her and any nasty spells they might come across anyways and stopped asking questions. The unlikely group burst out of the stable like bats out of hell and immediately Kenshi took the lead, shouting over his shoulder in his peculiar accent, “Stay behind me, I will block the spells”, his sword gave a menacing hiss as it was withdrawn from its splendent green sheathe, “You take care of as many of the spellslingers as you can!”

The group formed a diamond with Kenshi at the front, Tom and Einar to his sides, and Jolene at the back. The streets were mostly cleared of townsfolk now, they were all either fleeing into the waste, hiding in their homes, or lying ominously still in the gutters.

Half the town was in shambles, it looked as though a giant had swept its hand indiscriminately along the tops of the roofs and sewn destruction for the sake of entertainment. Fires burned throughout the town like stars in the night sky. Tom hoped the family he had saved was alright, but it didn’t look good. There was nothing more he could do for them now though. Other than fight off the whole flamin’ pack of outlaws, but that was a death wish. There were far too many of them.

Up ahead three men in ragged clothes rounded the corner and cried with surprise at seeing such a large group on horseback. To their credit, it didn’t take them long to overcome their surprise and raise their slingers. Before they could fire Tom took the one on the left with an earth spell to the shoulder. The man went down in a crying, sniveling heap. The other two popped shots off at Kenshi. Tom was slightly concerned that the blademaster wouldn’t be able to effectively wield his weapon while riding, but he couldn’t be more mistaken. Kenshi moved as though he were part of the horse and smoothly cut through both of the spells, slicing through them with one expertly placed cut. The ranger took another outlaw in the chest with a storm of Earth needles, if that flaming man Jack could use that trick then so could he. They were now on top of the final outlaw and as he tried desperately to roll out of the way Einar clumsily leaned in his saddle and swiped at the man with his battle-axe, catching the unkempt man in the leg.

In fact the cook leaned so far out of his saddle, he almost joined the bandit on the ground. A desperate grab of the reins settled Einar back into his saddle. The group continued galloping down the main road of the town, blowing past a group of four rough bandits carrying their loot back to their horses. Jolene slipped out of her saddle and sat backwards, guiding the horse with just her knees, to get shots off at the outlaws before they could mount up and follow the group. She fired two times and two bodies hit the floor. After that the remaing two outlaws scrambled for cover in the wreckages of the townhouses. They were at the outskirts of the town now, but they were attracting a lot of attention. The road underneath them had changed from paved stones to packed dirt, and instead of tall townhouses, they were now on the flat land surrounding the town and rapidly approaching the wild, untamed land of the frontier.

“We’re almost free!”, Jolene called over her shoulder, still riding backwards. It was then that the group heard a very worrying noise:     hoofbeats. And they were growing louder at a rapid pace. A herd of about ten horsemen came around a corner behind them. They were far behind, perhaps 130 yards away, but gaining rapidly. At their head was a figure clothed in a black cloak. Jack Riley. 

“You just had to say something!” Tom yelled back at Jolene. She didn’t answer; she just settled her slinger rifle back against her shoulder and took aim. The men chasing them still couldn’t fire and it was too far for their slinger pistols. But Jolene’s rifle… well that was another story. She took careful aim at the figure in the middle. He wouldn’t dodge this one. The gambler selected her spell in her mind, and fired. The shot traveled almost faster than the eye could follow, and the small pellet erupted into a huge collection of boulders. Each one was about the size of a man’s head, and they all rocketed towards the shadow-clothed outlaw. Jack Riley drew his slinger and fired a single spell in retaliation, a spectral spell. A ghostly shield appeared in front of the outlaw and his horse, sending boulders flying ever which way, but none could break through the spell.

“Heaven above! Who is this guy?” Jolene yelled over her shoulder, “I ain’t ever seen a spectral spell actually used before!”

She quickly flipped in her saddle and settled front-facing again. There was no use firing spells while that shield was up. All they could do now was run.

“We’ve gotta lose him!”, Einar called, “Make for that canyon! Maybe we can give ‘em the slip there!”, he pointed to a narrow opening in the wall of a plateau no more than two hundred yards away. It was a desperate play, they had no idea if that canyon even led anywhere. But it was their only option. Tom and the group desperately turned their mounts in that direction, it was going to be close, the outlaws were rapidly gaining on them. Already the unkept figures behind the group were almost within firing range.

Spells began to erupt behind them. Fire spells that scorched the Earth and left it black with soot, ice spells that erupted into huge spikes of ice large enough to stab a horse, Earthen walls. It was all still behind them, but getting closer and closer. Only a hundred yards left, safety was beckoning them! Then Jack Riley lifted his slinger with his hand clothed in crimson.

He grinned as he selected his target and his spell and carefully took aim. Then he fired, and he knew that his aim was true. A huge burst of lightning flew from the barrel of his slinger and flashed towards the fleeing group. The band of pure light and fire took Jolene in her side and she screamed in pain before slumping forward in her saddle. Tom heard the cry and felt his blood go cold. He turned to see Jolene limp on her horse and his heart almost stopped. Then he gritted his teeth and slowed his horse to be even with Jolene’s. Tom was not leaving another woman to die. He grabbed the reins and tried to control the panicking horse. Though it seemed to be uninjured, Jolene’s horse was certainly spooked by the deadly flash that had just barely missed it. The canyon was only fifty yards away now, they were so close! Another spell whizzed past Tom’s head and almost hit Cook, but the grizzled veteran pulled his reins savagely and his horse lurched to the side just in time. The ranger reached for a slinger with his left hand, his right was still desperately clutching Jolene’s reins, and fired awkwardly over his shoulder. It came closer than he thought it would, and caused the bandit on the far right to duck awkwardly. Twenty five yards away, a few more seconds! Jack Riley raised his slinger again.

The first shot had been sloppy but he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. He’d get that flamin’ ranger right in the head! Jack took aim and fired a narrow, concentrated needle of Earth right at Tom. But the ranger was one step ahead of Jack and leaned dangerously in his saddle to get a better angle before firing a spell of his own. A huge gust of wind tore at the Earth spell and sent it spinning harmlessly off to the side. As the two spells met the group finally passed into the canyon. Jack quickly fired off four spells at the walls of the canyon, two lava spells and two explosive spells. The result was as horrifying as it was magnificent. The lava was so hot it singed Tom’s eyebrows from 50 feet away and melted the walls of the canyon so they pooled down into the opening. The explosions then tore off whatever remained and dropped huge sections of the wall down into the opening as well. In the end the gorge was blocked by a pile of earth and cooled lava that was almost as tall as the walls of the canyon itself. The group was safe… for now.

Tom had no time to admire his handiwork, he dropped out of the saddle and desperately began pulling Jolene out of her saddle. Einar rushed over and helped, and they both gently laid her down on the ground to see the damage. It wasn’t good. The lighting spell had taken Jolene in the side of the stomach, just above her right hip bone. The ranger quickly pulled up her shirt just enough to see the wound. The skin around the wound was blistered and angry, but that was much better than the actual wound which was black as pitch and about the size of a melon. Jolene’s breathing was shallow and unsteady, almost as though she was gasping for air. Einar’s face looked pale and he swallowed hard, “This don’t look good Tom, lighting spells are nasty business” he began to feel for her pulse, “Lotta times they mess with the heart.” 

Tom unholstered his slinger and aimed it at Jolene, wondering how the spellforger had known he would need this spell so soon, “Stand back Einar.”

The gruff cook took a few steps back and nervously fidgeted with his axe, almost as though he wished he could hit something to make the problem go away. Kenshi stood next to him and roughly patted his shoulder to comfort him. Tom concentrated for a moment then fired the spell. A white light encased Jolene and slowly faded, but nothing appeared to have changed. With shaking hands Tom kneeled and checked the wound again. Where there was a black wound surrounded by angry flesh crawling up her torso now there was a white mark no larger than the palm of a man’s hand. He checked her breathing, and it seemed to be slightly less labored.

With that Tom sat back on his haunches and bowed his head praying it would be enough.