Illustration 'Jacks Hungry' by Kevin James Hurtack © 2007

 

 Jack's Hungry

by W. Todd Banks © 2007

 

 

 

 Jack's six-shooters exploded to life, flames licking from the end of the barrel like a dragon's kiss. The crazies were upon him and he had to find a way to get his ass out of this town. Another explosion from the guns sent one of them flying to the bar. A crazy found its way to his left side, just as Jack rolled to his right and let his guns do his talking.

The bullet found its mark dead center of the crazy's right eye. Brains and skull painted the wall behind it as it drooped to the floor. Jack made his way to his feet and ran for the door. As he swung the doors open, there were another five of them staring him down.

“Fuck me…will these bastards ever die?” he said under his breath. He made a quick reload of his weapons and took aim for the woman in the front. She stumbled in his direction and he dispatched her as fast as she advanced. The rest of the crowd was hesitant to come any closer. He rounded to their right away from the saloon and found his horse disemboweled. “Mother fuckers!” He stepped over the corpse and slowly back stepped towards the edge of town. When he thought the coast was clear he holstered his guns and ran as far, and as fast, as his legs would carry him.

The sun was rising in the East and Jack found himself without horse or water. He took inventory of his ammo and stoked the fire to get warm. That town—what the hell happened there? An eagle circled overhead, this caught Jack's attention and he thought: I wish I was up there with you and not in this shithole… He holstered his sixes and explored his pocket for a smoke. His search turned up nothing and he sat there watching the sun in all its brilliance of orange and reds. He stood to relieve himself, when he heard a rustle from behind. He whirled around and yanked his gun from its home on his right hip. He took aim and settled in for another battle.

Out from the bushes walked a small child drenched in blood, he kept his finger tight on the trigger. He squinted to see in the half-light, the child made its way towards him and he stood his ground. Jack didn't like killing kids, but he would if it wanted to eat him. The child stopped where it was and stared at Jack with hollow eyes.

Jack cautiously walked towards the kid with his six shooter ready and waiting. The child started to cry and Jack knew it wasn't one of them. He put his gun back in its holster and approached the child; knelt down at eye level with the child and stared straight into her blue eyes. “Are you fine?” He asked as he gripped her arms. She just stood there dead to the world around her.

Jack took her towards the fire to get warm, and to see if he could make any sense of this. The girl just stared at the fire with deep amazement and no emotion at all. The girl finally looked over at Jack with tears in her eyes, and she spoke. “My name is Carrie…I live in town with my parents and brother.”

“What happened down there?” Jack asked.

“I don't know, It all started with little Timmy, he caught the fever and died. They buried him and two days later…there he was…he killed his whole family!” Her sobbing grew more intense and Jack found himself feeling sorrier for the child. “The whole town went crazy with the fever, even my Ma and Pa and brother…they tried to kill me and eat me like they did the dog…” Jack wrapped an arm around Carrie.

“I know what it's like to lose your family…I lost mine to the Banditos, that's why I came here…to settle this thing we have. They mowed them down like dogs…” A tear raced down Jacks cheek and he wiped it away quickly. “Are you hungry?” He asks the girl. She nods through sobs and he reaches into his pocket a pulls out some jerky. He hands it to her and she devours it hungrily. “Slow down child, I don't want you to choke on me.” She shoots a smile his way and he knows she may be tough enough to make it through. “We need to move to higher ground in case they decide to wander out of town” She acknowledges him and Jack puts out the fire, gathers their stuff and scoops Carrie up into his arms.

They moved to higher ground, with Jack carrying the girl all the way. He needed to get back there and figure out what was going on.

“I need you to stay here…it's too dangerous in town. Do you understand?”

“Yes I understand”.

“I have to go and see if there is anyone else that needs my help.” He gave her one more concerned look and took his leave towards town.

When he reached the main road going into Cortez, he pulled his guns and made ready for a fight. Going into town he could hear his heartbeat in his head; it was too quiet and he hated it when it was quiet. On his left his saw movement—one of the crazies still making do with his horse. He leveled his gun at its head and squeezed a round off that dropped it like a sack of wheat. The rapport of the shot brought more at his doorstep.

All he could do was keep from pissing himself, much less keep up this stupid fight. A Mexican man slithered his way from the alley wearing a red sash. That was the mark of a Bandito, the band of outlaws that ran this town. Jack figured he might be able to out run this one.

Was he wrong…

Red Sash moved faster than he expected and was on Jack's ass before he knew it. All he could smell was rotting flesh and shit. The stench turned his already empty stomach, and it took all he had to not puke all over Red Sash. Red Sash grabbed Jack's shirt and tried to sink his black teeth into Jack's neck. Jack slammed his gun into Red Sash's head and he stumbled back momentarily.

This gave Jack just enough time to take aim at Sash's head, which exploded in a cloud of blood, brains and pus. Jack took a knee and breathed deep. He needed to find more ammo and quickly. He only had five bullets left and a whole town of these damned crazies to dispose of.

He gathered himself and made his way to the Sheriff's Office to locate more weapons and ammo. The smell of death permeated from the doorway, he knew there were more in here. In one of the cells was another one of the Banditos, this one was worse than the last. His face was half rotted and one eye was lynching at the end of its nerve bundle. It smelled Jack and turned in his direction.

Its eye made a small arc on its cheek and a moan left its fetid lips, its arms reaching through the metal bars towards Jack.

“What the hell are you? Why are you still walking around when you should be rotting in the desert sand?” Jack's voice faltered. Eyeball opened his mouth as if to respond, with nothing more than rotted body fluids spewing forth. Jack looked around for a quieter manner to end its miserable life. In the corner he spots a shovel and grabs the keys of the wooden desk. He opens Eyeball's cell door and waits for him to come out where he'll have more room to swing.

Eyeball stumbles out of the cell and Jack's first swing misses wide of its mark. Eyeball closes the gap and grasps for Jack's hair. His foul breath cools Jack's face and turns his stomach. Jack slams an elbow into its chest and it opens up Eyeball's rib cage. Rotted viscera splatter onto the floor with a sickening, wet smack.

In his struggle Jack slips on Eyeball's guts and hits the floor with Eyeball in tow. The shovel wings across the room and lands behind the desk, taking with it Jack's hope. It's on top of Jack now, looking at him through its one dangling, insipid eye. Jack struggles under its dead weight and raises an arm in defense of its biting attempts. Eyeball latches on to his forearm with a crushing bite, taking a chunk from his arm

.

Jack reacts from the bite, yanking his arm away and reaching for his gun on his left side. He cocks the cannon and unleashes a barrage of hell from its chambers. Eyeball's left arm is ripped away at the elbow, followed by its jaw. It falls backwards off Jack and hits the floor with a thud. Jack regains his composure and stands above it. He points his gun at Eyeball's head and fires off a round that finds it mark between his eyes. The back of its head flaps open relieving itself of its contents. Jack stepped onto its once dangling eye, releasing its fluids with a pop. He looks down at the gaping wound on his arm and hopes this isn't a one way ticket to Crazyville. Jack gives one more half-glance towards Eyeball, and then heads for the door.

He cautiously exits the building trying not to draw any more attention to himself. He hits the dusty main road, heading back out of Cortez, thinking how stupid it was to come back here. The sun is setting in the west, painting the desert in oranges and purples. Jack wraps his arm in his handkerchief and pulls his guns from their holsters. Both were empty, save for a single shot, which he knew he would have to use later.

He looks off to the west at a soaring eagle, making circles in the sky. The pain is creeping up his arm in waves; he bites down on his tongue as he heads further out of town and to the child.

He's hungrier than he's ever been before--at least there's dinner waiting for him in the hills…