[IK] Dead Man Walking | ходы игроков | Party I: Jesse and Jane

JESSE `JUDGE` KIRKLAND

Gravedigger. Your old friend. Your old enemy.
It was the time to end this feud once and for all. This shithole of a person, a crime lord, deserved to die.
Jesse was not 100% sure that Geronimo was the one who gave the order to kill Jesse’s family, but… Hell, it was him. Who else?

There was only a little problem.
Geronimo could dig enough graves for half of the Wild West, ‘cause he had enough people.
And Jesse didn’t.

A little place called Jackobstown.
There Gravedigger was seen last with only a small bunch of his people - quite a chance.
Jesse went to get him - and only got a bullet straight in his heart. Not that he would need it anymore - there was no one for him to love.

Still, it kinda hurt. Not for long.




JANE SMITH

You were lying in a pool of something red and warm.
Oh.
Blood.
Whose?..
Oooh.
Yours.
Oh.


===================

Sam was with you. He was silent, he was sad, he was angry.
You clutched a Henry rifle, and set off on a journey.

Your mind was still clouded.

First, you needed to check the nearest town of Jackobstown. Most likely, you thought, the assholes would go there. After all, it was the nearest place with a saloon.

You were going along a place with lots of coffins.
Oh. Yeah.

Your mind became a little more clear, but not enough.

You thought, that you really should order three coffins.
A man came out screaming of fear from the house. But that wasn’t important.

It was dark inside. But there was a table, and a man sitting on it. His bare chest was in the shadow, but when he turned to look at the person who came in, Jane saw something. A freaking huge hole in his chest. Bullet went there - and this guy should be dea…

Wait. Your mind suddenly became as clear as blue sky.
You dropped your head and saw three holes in bloodstained dress.
You touched them. There were holes underneath it. Holes in your body.
- Sam… - you said and looked at your relative. He was looking at you with his one eye. There was a gory mess instead of the other one.

JESSE `JUDGE` KIRKLAND

You opened your eyes and saw a face. The other person was quite old, and uncomfortably close to your own face.
- Emmm, mister?..
The old man jumped back as if he saw a ghost, and was looking at Jesse with eyes full of fear and incomprehension.
- Mister? Where am I? - your head was a bit cloudy, and your chest hurt a bit while you sat on the table. Lots of coffins where around.
The old man stood there for several second, and then ran away, screaming. Strange guy.
There was silence, while you were looking around: coffins, of every size and form. For kids, for adults, for fat ones, for tall ones.

Suddenly you heard steps, and turned.
A woman. A usual one. With one small oddity. Actually, with three of them.
Three bullet wounds in the chest. She really should be dead.
Wait.
Your head became clear of of a sudden. You looked down.
You had one too. A freaking big hole in your chest, just where your heart is.
- Sam… - you heard the woman saying, while looking to her left. There was no one.

- Am I dead? - asked Jane someone. Maybe herself. - Oh, I am so-o-o dead...

She grimly shaked her head. The man in front of Jane was just as dead as Jane herself. Just so dead, that he was moving right now. Like... "dead man walking", but literally.

- We aren't in Hell, aren't we? I think I remember, that we aren't. Sam, maybe me in... Jackobstown, right. And this is... undertaker's shop. Oh, mister-mister... Mister, who are you... - Jane made a step forward to a man with a bullet in his heart. - Mister, are you a undertaker? Dead undertaker, that would have been funny... - Jane smiled a bit. - Sam, don't you think that could be funny?

Judge Kirkland opened his eyes and took a sharp gasping breath. Breath in, breath out. His chest rose and fell steadily but he felt no satisfaction. As if he was quenching his thirst with a mug of driest dust. With a start he sat up and looked around. He instantly realised he was in a mortuary.
An old man was staring at him from across the room with fear and astonishment. Of course he was, he probably thought Jesse was stone dead. But he wasn't. He knew such things happen to people time after time. Thank God they did not dig him in yet. Jesse cleared his throat and was about to initiate a conversation but the man bolted with a terrified scream leaving his guest alone among the coffins. Marshal scowled. Wild West was no place for the faint-hearted.

Then the strange woman entered. His trained eye instantly noticed the bullet holes in her torso and it filled him with visceral horror. A dead woman walking! His hand darted to his belt, instinctively reaching for his trusted gun. The gun was not there. He looked down and what he saw made him cry out. There was a sizeable bloody hole right through his heart. And the stale air of the mortuary was flowing through him freely. Breath in, breath out. He was dead. This realisation took him by surprise and knocked the ground from under his feet. The torrent of memories rushed through his head. The puzzle finally assembled but it made no sense whatsoever.

- No, this is not hell. - he answered the dead woman in a grave voice. - This is purgatory. Also know as Jackobstown.

- Yes, see, I totally knew where we were going, - said Jane with a nod. - Say, man, didn't you saw some bandits around? Specific one, if to be precise, but you'now... - woman looked at a rifle in her hands and shrugged. - Anyone will do for now.

Yes, that was, maybe only one thing Jane knew for sure - she wasn't alive just because. She had a purpose, and so shoud have this man. And if so, Jane shouldn't just mess around - she should go forward and shoot brains out of this fuckers' cursed heads. Jane didn't noticed how loud she was grinding her teeths.

The Marshal looked around, hoping to find his gun somewhere among the coffins scattered across the room. Unfortunately it was not readily noticeable so he slowly tilted forward and jumped on his feet with a heavy grunt.
- Give me that rifle, woman. - He extended his hand imperiously, tarnished Marshal's star visible on his gaping chest. - Do not be careless with a weapon.

Momentarily he looked her up and down with a scowl. Her unassuming dress all gore and gunshot holes.
- And what on Earth happened to you?
"And to me" - came a timid thought.

Your conversation was interrupted by the voices of people coming to the building. By the sounds of it they were drunk a little bit (or not a little), and they were laughing.
But one voice was not - he was nearly screaming. Screaming about dead man going back to life.

They entered. Four guys, including the undertaker, who ran away a bit earlier.
- I told you! - He screamed, pointing at Jesse and Jane from the back of the mob. - They came back to kill us all for the sins! I told you!
Two other guys were stunned. They’ve never seen someone so alive with this kind of wounds. They couldn’t believe what they were seeing.
But the last guy. You both knew him.
Jesse remembered his face - he stood beside Gravedigger when you were killed.
Jane remembered his face - he was the one who shot her.
- What the fuck… - the guy mumbled, taking a step back and frightenedly reaching for his gun.

The old Marshal wrenched the rifle from the dead woman's cold hands and turned towards the forming crowd. Some of them could have remembered Judge Kirkland, the scourge of thieves and scoundrels. Resting the barrel on his elbow he flashed his gilded star and commanded the men to stand down. His eyes like smoldering embers bored through Gravedigger's henchman.
- This man is wanted for murder. Now move along, men. No one will stand between me and my quarry.
His trigger finger eagerly twitched as he raised the rifle slightly to off the culprit immediately if he decided to do something funny.

Silence.
It was filling every corner of the room for several seconds, while everyone was trying to understand, what was going on.
One of the guys, who were not responsible for the additional holes in Jesse, open his eyes wide.
- Hey, ain’t that the Judge? - he asked, - You know. Kirkland guy, who’s died....
And at that point they totally understood the whole madness of this situation.

The guy, who took part in killing Jesse, made an unsteady step back.
- Wha… what the fuck… you were dead, man! Dead like fucking log!
He was scared, he was really, really uneasy. And his hand was very close to his gun.

The tension was growing with each second, and innocent guys took Jesse’s advice: they moved to the sides, leaving a free corridor for a gunfight.

The barrel of the trophy rifle drew a half-circle in the air, now pointing straight at the bandit's chest. Jesse was not playing any games and he made it very clear he will open fire the moment something goes awry. Such was the work ethics of the Wild West Marshals.

- The reports of my death were somewhat exaggerated. - Judge spoke in a grim tone. His dark gleaming eyes darted between the shaken men from under heavy bushy eyebrows. - Stand down. Show me your hands so that I could see them and no one will have to die today.

He made a jerking upward movement with his rifle, suggesting the bandit to put his hands into the air.

The asshole was not really going to do anything stupid: he knew better than that.
The hands went up in the air slowly, as if he was working with lots of dynamite.

- Hey, man, I don’t understand, but easy, yeah? - he mumbled, - I only did what told! You know that, right? Just a small fry, not really worth bloodying your hands, right?

He was leaving the impression of a bad guy who really didn’t want any more problems.
Kinda funny, counting the fact he participated in killing you.

Jesse pointedly spat on the floor without breaking eye contact with the man.
- Don't want to die young? Good for you, sonny. I will let you buy your life back from me, but your freedom - can't guarantee that.
The old man took a few steps forward, but still kept his distance from the bandit.
- Someone tie his hands up. You, - the Judge pointed at the undertaker with a light nod, - I deputise you temporarily to help me deal with this scum. Find a rope and get busy. We'll need to get moving soon.

In case of emergency people tend to listen to somebody who looks like he knows what to do.

And Jesse was just the right man.

Several seconds after the undertaker heard the order, he was already tieing asshole’s hands behind his back.
The latter wasn’t actually resisting - he was well aware of the fact, that Judge can shoot, and will.

A minute later he was unable even to move his hands at all.

Making sure the bandit was tied up well, the Judge lowered his gun and relaxed somewhat.

- I need two horses, - Jesse announced matter of factly. And if the captive had no horse, he would have to borrow someone else's beast. In either case, he needed two sturdy animals to carry the two of them into the prairie.