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Rated: 13+ · Novel · Fantasy · #2177597
Chapter 3 part 1 of the novel Thank you for the Venom.

Chapter 3 part 1


WH Eckhart stood in front of his two-story home. The house where his father had raised him and his mother had nurtured his outgoing personality. He had donned his belt and boiled leather holster. WH was still young enough to have some growth in him but old enough to leave home. There was little choice in the matter. His father's boots clacked against the wooden frame on the first floor. The corpse hanged outside the window, bed sheets used as a makeshift noose. WH's sky blue eyes never left his father's face. He wanted this moment imprinted on him. He needed to swallow but instead, he found himself leaning into the discomfort. The dusty wind knocked off his white cowboy hat and sent it sliding against the desert flat. For a long moment, he could have gone after it before the wind picked it up again. The chance left him and he finally breathed in a deep breath. It was time to move on. He had to salvage what he could out of this predicament. His luck would allow him all chances in life but it couldn't take away the misfortune of others.

WH turned in a silent stride towards his brown workhorse and opened a satchel on its side. Inside was spoiled moldy bread and putrid green steak. He tore off a piece of the bread and placed the small amount in his mouth. His lips barely parting to take in the ill-inducing food. He breathed through his nose, chewed a few times, then mounted his horse. Dust getting into his eyes, he blinked and squinted before giving his father one final look. He kicked his spurs against the horse's side and rode off towards town.

The time allowed him to dwell on the thoughts of Vance Barn, his mother, and what he was told he had to do to get her home safely. It was a cold morning for Texas weather but he knew as soon as noon rolled around he would be sweating if he had worn any more. Plus, wearing heavier clothes would slow down his reactions. His luck could carry him far but he feared to find the limit.

There was a longing and sadness to his wide eyes. The dust didn't seem to make him squint like it did others. His lips pursed together and expressionless. His horse wasn't in any hurry and neither was he. Enjoying the long and lone ride towards San Galvaso. He had traveled to this small town many times in his life. When he was young his mother had said he would eventually marry Sasha Johnson and produce a beautiful blonde hair child. That was his mothers wish, unaware that their dark hair left some but little opportunity to accomplish that dream.

His father had always instilled an ideal of pride in him. That he was special for this reason or that. Mainly it was a sense of superiority from their ancestral homeland. They were well off but then again status meant little to Vance Barb. He hated him for what he was doing and had done to his family. He couldn't change what happened to his father. Once he knew his mother was safe he planned to exact his revenge on Vance and his gang.

There were a few members of the Barb gang that WH tolerated and that was Sunshine Rodrigo and Lucas. He had met Lucas in a poker match in Dallas three summers ago. He couldn't stand Cliff and his constant arrogant nonchalant attitude and elitist attitude towards being a second to Vance Barb. WH had seen through that facade on day one and was counting the days until their inevitable split. He figured Clearance Indigo was a better fit for his number two. He was better with the rifle and could hunt bears single-handedly.

He was so lost in thought he didn't recognize that there was a person standing in his way. He could tell by the outline that it was a woman but her hood was so low he couldn't see her face. Not only that she also wore gloves and with the long robe that was secured around her waist kept any skin from showing. She was wearing long white pants and light brown boots. Odd was a word he knew and couldn't come up with a better way to describe her.

"Yeah?" he said rudely.

"Maya tells me you intend to rob San Galvaso," her voice seemed familiar but he couldn't put a finger on who she was.

WH was a great poker player, his scowl left nothing but hate flow out of him. She had called him out on his true intentions. In his eyes, there was little she could do to stop him. He wondered if she was looking for a bribe to keep quiet. Why bother saying that Maya, whoever that was, had told her. He couldn't piece together what was going on without more. He licked his lips and was going to ask her a question but she cut him off.

"I'm not going to stop you. My money isn't in the bank."

"What is it you want?" he blurted out instead of thinking through what she was saying. This whole conversation was off. He thought, "She can't be that cold, why all the clothes, is she just trying to hide her appearance? What's to stop me from just ripping off that hood?"

"When the sheriff comes, you'll leave with your gang."

This irritated WH to no end. He was not part of their gang. He was an Eckhart, not some outlaw. He considered his actions would make him an outlaw and shook the idea from his head. "If the sheriff or his deputy get in my way I'll kill either of them. You don't understand."

"The sheriff isn't going to get in your way," the voice behind the hood spoke calmly. The eerie volume of her voice was sweet but didn't get distorted at all by the dust and wind.

"He best not," he huffed, "Who are you?"

"Let's just say I'm a concerned citizen who wants to see these events unfold in the proper order."

"Proper order?"

For some reason, he could feel that the woman in the robe and hood was smiling. She didn't say anything else and with time WH trotted his horse around her. She turned, keeping her unseen eyes on him at all time.

With some distance between the two now WH looked back and saw that the woman was no longer there.

At San Galvaso he had some time to kill before Vance and the rest of his gang would arrive. Making money off of the locals was always an easy target although people generally thought he cheated since he always won. Behind Ben Franklin's Apocathary was what the local's called Chinatown. Lively as always, Chinatown was a frequent spot to go missing or get rid of a body. There were no women on the streets. A handful would peer out of opaque windows to see the white man who dared to enter. WH wasn't an unusual visitor though and thus ignored.

Zhao Yun was well known for his ability to speak English and without an accent. It helps him with those who are prejudice around town. The salty smell was different on this street and the background noise was generally overwhelming unless you were used to it. WH was never bothered by the shouting and loudness the outdoor kitchen provided.

The game he played was called mahjong but he always called it tile-rummy. He sat with two other gentlemen and Zhao who greeted him.

"It has been a while, Mr. Eckhart."

"That's right, Yun. I have some business in town."

The two men clearly didn't speak English and their conversation wasn't going to be interrupted. The tiles were placed in various stacks after being shuffled. Then a dealer threw some dice and totaled the sum in Chinese. The events didn't seem to phase WH who really just wanted their money and to converse with Zhao.

"I do hope this business doesn't interrupt this side of town."

"It's on the other side, over near the new building."

"Ah, the native. In my country, she would be called a Zhu."

The two men picked up on the word and looked at Zhao briefly then to WH before continuing the game. The game seemed to be played with minimal effort to speak, allowing WH to have their conversation.

"Shouldn't you be asking about Cao."

"You have news on him?"

"I might."

WH was bluffing but with his luck whatever he spouted out would be true enough to offer some sort of benefit to his friend. The conversation twisted in a direction that would confuse the other two players at the table.

"You know you're always welcome here after your business..." Zhao tested the waters with his choice in words, "...this afternoon."

WH scratched the tip of his nose once and then continued, "I don't feel that will be necessary. The sheriff is out looking for Dan Frisco and the marshal will be leaving later today."

"Ah, I see. So you'll need my other services."

"I will handle the head of the snake. I need some Chinese explosives and I'd like Indigo took care of. He's the wild card in this matter. He and I haven't seen eye to eye since we were young."

"It's done. What can you tell me about Cao?"


"So this is your champion?"

"Hate, you don't understand the value of misfortune."

Two men stood in the alleyway between Chinatown. A tall, lean and wide, feminine man with a green caubeen atop his red curly hair was speaking to a shadow. The shadow, who was named Hate by the man in green, moved like flames. Standing still the two were moved through by a man with a wheel barrel full of manure and straw. Their form was insubstantial for a moment and completely invisible to the common folk. The two looked at WH and Zhao who were in mid-conversation talking about a competitor of Zhao's leader, Bei.

"He's short." said the black semi-transparent shadow.

"He's young. I saw that Belle has picked her champion. He's doomed."

"How so?"

"He's faultless. No one lasts that long without a fall or succumbing to the power she provides. It's just too tempting," the green man turned to look at the shadow with a smirk. There was a competitive spirit in the man's eyes. His smile was knowing as if he had spoken with Maya.

"Her power is divine and these mortals are too weak to hold it. I need to pick mine carefully. I have the feeling your champion's pride will overwhelm him in time,"

The green man was unaware where the shadow was looking, with the absence of eyes and face had left the shadow an enigma to him.

"Who is after you?"

"Agony."

"That's a tough one. I wonder if that power will ever be picked," the green man sighed and combed a few strands of red-orange hair from his eyes. "Let's pay Maya a visit and see what she says."


WH turned over thirteen orphans, collected the money he had earned from the three men and left without a word. The three men looked at him astonished. He headed past and through the intersection towards the main street. There was Lucas, walking towards Maya's. He followed Lucas a half a dozen yards behind him.

WH turned at the intersection of the main street and found his horse hitched at Ben Jamenson's bordel. There he opened the satchel at the side of the horse and pulled out a gold trimmed and blue bandana and covered his face with it. He placed a pair of torsion wrenches, a hook pick, and two skeleton keys into his coat pockets. Ripping the moldy steak in half, he ate it with a wince at the sour flavor. He had to chew hard against the texture and substance.

Hoisting the rifle over his shoulder to carry single-handedly towards the bank now that the marshal was gone.

© Copyright 2018 Jecht Fayth (bcroderick at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2177597-Thank-you-for-the-Venom-03-01-Unedited