Weekly Expression #18 - BK

The Tragedy

Walker swallowed hard his shot of whiskey.  He lost count how many he had consumed.All he remembered was the long night of terrors that plagued his dreams. It was the one thing he was trying to forget.

He heard the doors swing open as he took another shot. “One year ago we stood exactly in these same spots.”

“What are you doing, Walker?”

“Just taking a load off, Mayor.”

“You are supposed to be doing your job.”

“Ain’t no one come to me with a problem yet. No harm with a little drink.”

“This is how you repay my gratitude? I gave you a wife. I made you Sheriff.”

“Yes, and I’m much obliged.”

“It’s been long enough, son. Stop moping around and man up. Cross is dead thanks to you.”

“That was my first mistake. Actually,” Walker sput on the stool and pointed his finger in the mayors face, “My first mistake was coming back here to begin with.”

The room felt dizzy.

The mayor gasped. “Would you rather Abigail be in the hands of that killer? Or your unborn child at the mercy of Cross? You have responsibilities, Walker Cole and I will not sit idly by and watch you throw all the good that you have in this life because you can’t get over a night of rage. I don’t know what you did that has plagued you but it’s time to move on.”

“It’s not as easy as that.” How does a man confess his regret over the one thing that made him into the man everyone loves? The town may love him for killing Cross but how would they react if they realized just what exactly Walker had done. He shuddered from the memory.

“No one here blames you. This town praises you. So what is your problem?”

“My problem?” Walker asked as he jumped down from the stool sending it sliding across the floor. They stood face to face, nose to nose. Walker was breathing heavily. “My problem isn’t something you can fix. So leave me alone.” He turned to leave.

“No.” The mayor grabbed his arm. “ You can’t just leave your wife alone. She’s all by herself out on the edge of town. The baby is due any day and you are sitting here, getting drunk! Get off your lazy butt or…”

“Or what?”

“Don’t test me, son.” The mayor’s face was stern and unmoving.

Walker scoffed. He looked away before sending his fist flying. It made contact and Walker heard the man’s nose crack. The mayor went flying backwards, falling on a table, breaking it. The few stragglers in the tavern gasped and stood at once. Some rushed to the mayor’s side, helping the moaning man up. Walker shook his hand, it had hardly hurt him.

The mayor was standing and lifted his hand to his nose. He drew blood back. “Have you lost your mind?” He spat.

Walker was about to fire an insult back when a young man rushed through the doors. “Fire on the hill!” He yelled.

The room froze.

The hill?

There was only one hill in town...his hill.

His home was the only home on a hill. There was a fire on the hill. A fire at his home.

Abigail!

Walker rushed out the door and stopped long enough to see the fire destroying his home. He leaped off the edge of the walkway, onto his horse and sped through the town. He kicked the horse to gallop faster.

He slid off the horse before it even fully stopped. He ran around to the front of the house, his heart beating as if it would jump out of his chest.

“Abigail!” He screamed at the fire.

Then he saw her. He ran to her side and dropped to his knees. He pulled her lifeless form into his arms and lowered his head to rest on hers. He didn’t mind the blood that now soaked his shirt and hands. He couldn’t stop the tears from falling down his face.

Confusion, fear, and anger boiled inside of him.

It was then he felt the cold steel on his forehead. He opened his eyes and saw the dirty boots that stood in front of him. He dared not look up.

“To see you on your knees, in such a low condition, why it brings me such joy.” The guttural voice laughed. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time, Sheriff Cole. A long time."

Walker slowly lifted his head and looked into the eyes of the man holding the gun to his head.

The recognition of a dead man danced across his mind.

He cocked the gun. “You had best better kill the right brother next time.”

Cross pulled the trigger.