Post by Greywall on Jan 9, 2023 22:48:10 GMT -5
The rush of air entering his lungs upon feeling the soft thud of a boot tapping him awake woke Quinton in a half aware daze. He looked at the man standing over him wearing wolf furs and an old mishmash of Marrlan and roskanan uniforms. He had grey long hair tied into a ponytail and a short beard, blue eyes hidden by a face of growing wrinkles that were stretching more and more as time went on. “I got eggs in a pan with some hog jowl, eat it and let’s get going.”
Quinton had been in the zedonian western wilderness for two days now ahead of a riverboat that employed them for wild game meat for meals. The river boat was an old steam boat called Ma Noch, long retired from hauling freight in the spider web of rivers in western touli in favor of larger models. The Ma Noch simply guided tourist now into an “adventure”, wealthy individuals who wanted to escape city life and feel rustic. Ted his father was packing the camp up swiftly as Quinton ate his breakfast and had a tin cup shoved in his face. The familiar smell of coffee filled quintons nostrils as he gulped down the warm liquid, “no sugar?” He complained “we’re out. After this detail I’m going into town. Ripley should have what we need I don’t wanna go into Jamestown.”
The two began to make their way down hill from where they camped, rifles in hand both Roebuck models Ted got from his service as a volunteer in the Rosark revolution so many years ago. He was a Stewart, one of the larger clans in Ulster Gaelia, he sought adventure in his youth and fought in the revolutionary wars and border wars. Now he just wanted to hunt game and remain away from anyone who wasn’t his son. At night Quinton could tell when his father had a good night or a bad night thinking of the wars.
“We need deer, hog, something with girth. These wild birds and hares won’t cut it.” Ted was slightly grumpy at the fact they didn’t find good game meaning he would have to face the boat chef and his infamous wrath, it also meant no money.
After a few hours trekking they found some deer and took them down, it was still the early morning so Ted and Quinton made quick work cleaning them for meat and hide before moving toward the river itself. “Look” Ted said as he pointed, there in the mud were warthog tracks, “that pig is an extra 8 pounds if we bag it.” Ted nodded toward one direction and Quinton knew what he meant, if possible Ted wanted to encircle the hog.
Quinton brushed through the thicket of branches, his hands sweating despite the cool winter air. He came to a clearing and saw the large beast poking at the barren brown grass for something to eat. Quinton looked down the sights of his rifle aiming where heart would be, his excitement got the better of him as his aim wasn’t steady. He fired the .30-06 round and missed sending the hog running, he cussed under breath pulling the bolt back trying to recover but before the brass shell cleared from his sight the warthog was violently pinned to the ground by some unseen force followed by the unmistakable sound of rifle fire. “Got em!”.
Ted came from the other side of the clearing chambering another round with his bolt, “alright boy, you missed, you clean.” He said grinning tossing a knife inside a leather bound holder. Ted grabbed his shoulder wincing slightly, he had been wounded years ago and it never healed right, when Quinton asked Ted would just say “a snake got me”. Quinton grimaced, zedonian warthogs were good meat but they smelled HORRID.
Quinton began the dirty work, the smell making his choke up as he tried to make quick work getting the meat out. “Don’t forget the tusks, they’ll fetch coin too.” Ted walked around noticing something odd about the area, they were close by the river but something was here, some- “shit!” Ted fired his rifle but missed as the large creature sprang from underneath, the reptile had been hibernating but the commotion clearly woke it, and woke it in anger.
Zedonian crocodiles are practically dinosaurs, mean creatures that have killed their fair share of humans wandering the far western reaches. Ted chambered bolt and fired hitting the hard scales, nothing, the croc slashed his leg cutting deep making him grunt. Ted pulled his knife, a roskanan dagger gifted to him but he didn’t need it, the croc opened its maw to bite Ted and had a .30-06 round blow right through its brain. Quinton was quick but remembered what his father taught him about these monsters, their hide was thick and almost bulletproof.
Ted slid himself backwards toward his son in the cold mud, grunting in pain and looking over his wound. “Took you long enough, another minute and I’m with the gods.” Quinton grabbed Ted’s rifle which had been dropped in the scuffle and tossed it to him “You’re too stubborn to die old man” he joked, Quinton went to work skinning the crocodile. It was a huge pay day if they got it delivered, a solid hundred pounds. Ted wrapped and treated his leg, his eyes looking at his son with pride “a good rifle and sound heart will get you farther than a nevarran stallion, boy, and you got em.” He wanted to say more but the sounds of a steamboat whistle filled the area, “that’s our ride.” Ted stood up wincing at the pain at first but walked toward the river, “finish up and load it” he said to Quinton before making a sharp whistle signaling the boat they heard them.
It a couple hours but their haul was packed, placed and put into storage. The chef paid them what money he had but the croc had to be paid with a money order. “That will fetch a good price in Jamestown, ladies love that skin for satchels and boots.” The chef was happy, he began cooking the deer meat for the tourist not mention how he had to scrimp and save what had left the last meal. Now he had plenty of meat and Ted and his son made plenty of money.
“I think I’ll tell the captain we’re taking a month off, that’s enough money to enjoy a good rest.” Ted left his son near the railing overlooking the port side of the boat as it chugged along, Ted entered the bridge to inform the captain of his intention to leave for holiday. Quinton never saw the man approach him, “my my son, you have a god given talent. Surely the lord blessed you with the talent of a marksman.” Quinton turned and saw the black haired man standing practically on top of him. He took a step back, the smell of cologne gagging him. “Thanks mister.” The man’s eyes darted immediately to his side where Ted came into view, “good evening sirs” and like that he left. Quinton was uneasy, Ted knew what he was, “fucking Galrans.” Ted never lost sight of him til he went below, “something wrong, keep an eye on him boy, imma fetch Horas.” Quinton nodded going where the man went while Ted went to grab security, a Koian ex rail corpsman who did security on the boat as a retirement job.
Quinton caught the man with another, a red headed freckled young man, clearly Gaelic and they were harassing a woman. “She said she didn’t know so so I…” the younger man was nervous looking everywhere while the Galran grabbed the woman by her arm “Fuck that! Where is it you goddamn whore?! Tell me and you will have saved the lives of EVERYONE ON THIS BOAT!” She slapped him trying to run away, Quinton realized all too late what was happening. The young man screamed “No stop!” The Galran pulled a pistol out yelling in guttural tone “Thy will be done!” And shot the woman dead. As if it was a signal shots rang out from the nearby shoreline striking the boat rapidly and killing unsuspecting tourist. Canoes hidden away appeared approaching the steam boat with armed men then began rushing it, one of them boarding the boat and being grabbed by the Galran, “kill everyone”. Quinton ran to the top deck to where his father was, the young protested still “what the fuck?! This isn’t the plan!” The Galran rolled his eyes, “people are easier to loot when they’re dead”.
Chaos ensued as Quinton fired his rifle as approaching assailants, they looked like normal people armed to the teeth and recklessly ran into the open, they weren’t trained soldiers. “QUINTON!” Ted yelled as he and Horas set a firing line trying to get as many people behind them as possible. “Cover me!” Ted lept out of cover running to his son but the unmistakable sound of a maxim machine gun from the shore line forced him low, Horas rapidly fired rounds from his trusty Koian lever action rifle giving Ted what he needed to reach Quinton and bring him back. The machine gun was losing range as the boat sped up to escape, it fired randomly onto the top deck strafing bullets all over. The boat made a sudden jerk and was heading into a mud bank, “oh shit they got the helmsman” Ted yelled. The boat ran aground stopping allowing more men from canoes to board. Everyone on the bottom deck was ruthlessly killed.
Ted, Quinton, Horas and the chef were trying fight back but it was in vain. “Horas take those people and get them to shore!” Ted had taken over the situation being the one who had the most combat experience, Horas silently nodded and began ushering people to the shore. A bullet ripped the chef’s head open and Ted realized they were doomed. Someone needed to stay for everyone to escape, but he wouldn’t let it be his son. But he had to do something first, something he hoped he would never have to do.
“Son listen” he pulled Quinton behind cover as bullets whistled by or slammed into the wood of the boat. “I love you son, I’ve done what I can to show that but your whole life I’ve done you wrong.” Quinton look confused as the boat began to shake violently, “we’re moving?” Quinton asked, “no the boiler must have been damaged, we got no time. Here take this.” He shoved the money they made into Quinton’s hand before firing a blind shot from his rifle to stay back the advancing men. “Go, tell the law what happened here and go find my sister in Jamestown. Alice Stewart, she’ll take care of you.” Ted popped up firing a round killing an attacker, as he dropped down Quinton remained “I’m not leaving you dad!” Quinton fired his own rifle striking an enemy sending them backward, Teds voice cracked as he began to cry at the painful thing he had to say. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you boy-“
“I am not your father.”
Ted grabbed Quinton and tossed him into the River below, Quinton popped up after being underwater for a few seconds hearing survivors call out to him to come to shore. Horas was firing at the boat in vain, some of the men were now leaving the boat to attack the shore when bullets ripped into them from the top deck. Ted was going to stay and die fighting, “DAD!!! Jump Dad!”
A loud whistling noise followed by a sudden explosion decimated the top deck of the boat and everyone on it, “NOOOOOOOO!” Quinton cried in agony he couldn’t and wouldn’t believe it. He was going to check the burning wreckage before four hands grabbed him and tossed him ashore, it was Horas. Quinton was lost in despair crying out “dad! Dad!” Horas rested his hand and quietly said “he’s gone. He gave you and the rest of time to escape now let’s not waste it.” Horas picked up Quinton and rallied the survivors into the forest to get away as the attackers shifted to the burning boat trying to grab whatever they could before it was incinerated.
The Galran and the young man watched as the boat burned, the young man berating “my uncle is going to kill you, this was supposed to a simple heist. You…you fucked it up!” The Galran didn’t say anything he just stared into the fire as the men in vain tried to recover anything.
—-7 days later—-
Horas got 16 people including Quinton to the nearest town safely. The law were informed and the massacre brought down rangers, law enforcement and even a battalion of Royal army troops. The Zedonian government placed a 55,000 pound bounty on those responsible to attract bounty hunters.
Quinton had cleaned himself up at a hotel he and the others were placed in for the time. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, his father was gone…but what did he mean by “I’m not your father” he said over and over. It was something that bothered Quinton but for now he knew what he wanted to do, he took the money, bought some guns, supplies and a horse. He was going to hunt the bastards that did this down and bring them to justice. Horas said nothing as the young man rode out of town back west.
Several miles near the Xaspeshi border was O’Doyle plantation. Run by Candace “candy” O’Doyle, this plantation was a front for the O’Doyle gang which was the last real outlaw gang in Touli. Candys younger brother Tommy ran the gang with his nephew Curtis, they had at one time ruled up and down western Zedonia. Now they were hiding away in a single shire near the border lands. Candy was sitting in room filled with lavish furniture, thousands of pounds worth of drapes, carpets, trophies, and marbled decorations filled the room. He sat on a high end couch smoking a slim cigarette when his brother and nephew walked in escorting a tall black haired man.
“I do declare they arrive at last!” Tommy and the gang had to travel along rural backroads to avoid the mass of law enforcement outside the shire, he was annoyed at his brother’s declaration upon their entry. “This fool fucked us.” He shoved the man down, “now every ranger, bounty hunter and law dog coming.” Candy shook his head, “do not treat poor Isaac like that, he’s been our enforcer for years and has he not performed admirably til now?” Candy flicked his hand to signal to the Galran to stand up. Candy stood up walking to him, “what in the devil were you thinking? We just needed the safe and some hostages to sell back.” Candy bit down on his cigarette looking rather judgmentally at Isaac, “they had more money on them people then the safe. If the damn boat didn’t explode we’d have a good haul.” Candy nodded making an exaggerated facial expression of his amusement of the explanation, “but” he took the cigarette and jammed it into isaacs eye causing him to scream, unable to escape as candy held his head in place with one hand and the cigarette in the other “you failed me boy, the second time this happened.” He pulled back throwing the smothered cigarette away as Isaac welled at the pain. “I’m sorry gentlemen do you think I am too easy on you? We ain’t making money growing sweet potatoes, where is my goddamn money?!”
Tommy was the first to respond, “we can do another heist. Just need time to cool it.” Candy shook his head, “that won’t work this time. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but this!” He threw a newspaper at his brother “can’t cool down!”. Tommy read the article, dozens dead, national outrage. “We are being tested gentlemen. I need money lots of it. All my bribes are hungry as fuck now, I got new bribes to make, I gotta recruit more guns and I got the goddamn law sniffing around.” The young ginger haired man spoke up, “what about a bank?” Candy rolled his eyes back far, “Craig if I didn’t love ya momma I’d cut your balls off so you didn’t pollute the already fucking shit gene pool that is our family. Rob a bank now? In this heat?!” Craig shook his head, “no not here, in Jamestown.” The room fell silent and intrigued by what the boy had said. “Huh” said candy. “All the law is coming here, so if we hit a bank north they won’t see it coming. Especially in a big city like that.” Tommy looked up at his nephew then at Candy “it ain’t the worst idea” candy shook his head, “no it ain’t, would need a large crew and travel rural it take days if it weeks to reach it undetected and then you got this army of law between us and you.” Isaac stood up holding his burned out eye socket, “we can avoid them on the backroads, that bank can fund us long enough to wait all the heat down.” Candy shook his head, “it’s a shit idea. But whatever, grab 20 men and head north.” The three of them left the room with Isaac taunting Craig “good job pup, now it’s your ass if it fucks up.”
Quinton had been in the zedonian western wilderness for two days now ahead of a riverboat that employed them for wild game meat for meals. The river boat was an old steam boat called Ma Noch, long retired from hauling freight in the spider web of rivers in western touli in favor of larger models. The Ma Noch simply guided tourist now into an “adventure”, wealthy individuals who wanted to escape city life and feel rustic. Ted his father was packing the camp up swiftly as Quinton ate his breakfast and had a tin cup shoved in his face. The familiar smell of coffee filled quintons nostrils as he gulped down the warm liquid, “no sugar?” He complained “we’re out. After this detail I’m going into town. Ripley should have what we need I don’t wanna go into Jamestown.”
The two began to make their way down hill from where they camped, rifles in hand both Roebuck models Ted got from his service as a volunteer in the Rosark revolution so many years ago. He was a Stewart, one of the larger clans in Ulster Gaelia, he sought adventure in his youth and fought in the revolutionary wars and border wars. Now he just wanted to hunt game and remain away from anyone who wasn’t his son. At night Quinton could tell when his father had a good night or a bad night thinking of the wars.
“We need deer, hog, something with girth. These wild birds and hares won’t cut it.” Ted was slightly grumpy at the fact they didn’t find good game meaning he would have to face the boat chef and his infamous wrath, it also meant no money.
After a few hours trekking they found some deer and took them down, it was still the early morning so Ted and Quinton made quick work cleaning them for meat and hide before moving toward the river itself. “Look” Ted said as he pointed, there in the mud were warthog tracks, “that pig is an extra 8 pounds if we bag it.” Ted nodded toward one direction and Quinton knew what he meant, if possible Ted wanted to encircle the hog.
Quinton brushed through the thicket of branches, his hands sweating despite the cool winter air. He came to a clearing and saw the large beast poking at the barren brown grass for something to eat. Quinton looked down the sights of his rifle aiming where heart would be, his excitement got the better of him as his aim wasn’t steady. He fired the .30-06 round and missed sending the hog running, he cussed under breath pulling the bolt back trying to recover but before the brass shell cleared from his sight the warthog was violently pinned to the ground by some unseen force followed by the unmistakable sound of rifle fire. “Got em!”.
Ted came from the other side of the clearing chambering another round with his bolt, “alright boy, you missed, you clean.” He said grinning tossing a knife inside a leather bound holder. Ted grabbed his shoulder wincing slightly, he had been wounded years ago and it never healed right, when Quinton asked Ted would just say “a snake got me”. Quinton grimaced, zedonian warthogs were good meat but they smelled HORRID.
Quinton began the dirty work, the smell making his choke up as he tried to make quick work getting the meat out. “Don’t forget the tusks, they’ll fetch coin too.” Ted walked around noticing something odd about the area, they were close by the river but something was here, some- “shit!” Ted fired his rifle but missed as the large creature sprang from underneath, the reptile had been hibernating but the commotion clearly woke it, and woke it in anger.
Zedonian crocodiles are practically dinosaurs, mean creatures that have killed their fair share of humans wandering the far western reaches. Ted chambered bolt and fired hitting the hard scales, nothing, the croc slashed his leg cutting deep making him grunt. Ted pulled his knife, a roskanan dagger gifted to him but he didn’t need it, the croc opened its maw to bite Ted and had a .30-06 round blow right through its brain. Quinton was quick but remembered what his father taught him about these monsters, their hide was thick and almost bulletproof.
Ted slid himself backwards toward his son in the cold mud, grunting in pain and looking over his wound. “Took you long enough, another minute and I’m with the gods.” Quinton grabbed Ted’s rifle which had been dropped in the scuffle and tossed it to him “You’re too stubborn to die old man” he joked, Quinton went to work skinning the crocodile. It was a huge pay day if they got it delivered, a solid hundred pounds. Ted wrapped and treated his leg, his eyes looking at his son with pride “a good rifle and sound heart will get you farther than a nevarran stallion, boy, and you got em.” He wanted to say more but the sounds of a steamboat whistle filled the area, “that’s our ride.” Ted stood up wincing at the pain at first but walked toward the river, “finish up and load it” he said to Quinton before making a sharp whistle signaling the boat they heard them.
It a couple hours but their haul was packed, placed and put into storage. The chef paid them what money he had but the croc had to be paid with a money order. “That will fetch a good price in Jamestown, ladies love that skin for satchels and boots.” The chef was happy, he began cooking the deer meat for the tourist not mention how he had to scrimp and save what had left the last meal. Now he had plenty of meat and Ted and his son made plenty of money.
“I think I’ll tell the captain we’re taking a month off, that’s enough money to enjoy a good rest.” Ted left his son near the railing overlooking the port side of the boat as it chugged along, Ted entered the bridge to inform the captain of his intention to leave for holiday. Quinton never saw the man approach him, “my my son, you have a god given talent. Surely the lord blessed you with the talent of a marksman.” Quinton turned and saw the black haired man standing practically on top of him. He took a step back, the smell of cologne gagging him. “Thanks mister.” The man’s eyes darted immediately to his side where Ted came into view, “good evening sirs” and like that he left. Quinton was uneasy, Ted knew what he was, “fucking Galrans.” Ted never lost sight of him til he went below, “something wrong, keep an eye on him boy, imma fetch Horas.” Quinton nodded going where the man went while Ted went to grab security, a Koian ex rail corpsman who did security on the boat as a retirement job.
Quinton caught the man with another, a red headed freckled young man, clearly Gaelic and they were harassing a woman. “She said she didn’t know so so I…” the younger man was nervous looking everywhere while the Galran grabbed the woman by her arm “Fuck that! Where is it you goddamn whore?! Tell me and you will have saved the lives of EVERYONE ON THIS BOAT!” She slapped him trying to run away, Quinton realized all too late what was happening. The young man screamed “No stop!” The Galran pulled a pistol out yelling in guttural tone “Thy will be done!” And shot the woman dead. As if it was a signal shots rang out from the nearby shoreline striking the boat rapidly and killing unsuspecting tourist. Canoes hidden away appeared approaching the steam boat with armed men then began rushing it, one of them boarding the boat and being grabbed by the Galran, “kill everyone”. Quinton ran to the top deck to where his father was, the young protested still “what the fuck?! This isn’t the plan!” The Galran rolled his eyes, “people are easier to loot when they’re dead”.
Chaos ensued as Quinton fired his rifle as approaching assailants, they looked like normal people armed to the teeth and recklessly ran into the open, they weren’t trained soldiers. “QUINTON!” Ted yelled as he and Horas set a firing line trying to get as many people behind them as possible. “Cover me!” Ted lept out of cover running to his son but the unmistakable sound of a maxim machine gun from the shore line forced him low, Horas rapidly fired rounds from his trusty Koian lever action rifle giving Ted what he needed to reach Quinton and bring him back. The machine gun was losing range as the boat sped up to escape, it fired randomly onto the top deck strafing bullets all over. The boat made a sudden jerk and was heading into a mud bank, “oh shit they got the helmsman” Ted yelled. The boat ran aground stopping allowing more men from canoes to board. Everyone on the bottom deck was ruthlessly killed.
Ted, Quinton, Horas and the chef were trying fight back but it was in vain. “Horas take those people and get them to shore!” Ted had taken over the situation being the one who had the most combat experience, Horas silently nodded and began ushering people to the shore. A bullet ripped the chef’s head open and Ted realized they were doomed. Someone needed to stay for everyone to escape, but he wouldn’t let it be his son. But he had to do something first, something he hoped he would never have to do.
“Son listen” he pulled Quinton behind cover as bullets whistled by or slammed into the wood of the boat. “I love you son, I’ve done what I can to show that but your whole life I’ve done you wrong.” Quinton look confused as the boat began to shake violently, “we’re moving?” Quinton asked, “no the boiler must have been damaged, we got no time. Here take this.” He shoved the money they made into Quinton’s hand before firing a blind shot from his rifle to stay back the advancing men. “Go, tell the law what happened here and go find my sister in Jamestown. Alice Stewart, she’ll take care of you.” Ted popped up firing a round killing an attacker, as he dropped down Quinton remained “I’m not leaving you dad!” Quinton fired his own rifle striking an enemy sending them backward, Teds voice cracked as he began to cry at the painful thing he had to say. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you boy-“
“I am not your father.”
Ted grabbed Quinton and tossed him into the River below, Quinton popped up after being underwater for a few seconds hearing survivors call out to him to come to shore. Horas was firing at the boat in vain, some of the men were now leaving the boat to attack the shore when bullets ripped into them from the top deck. Ted was going to stay and die fighting, “DAD!!! Jump Dad!”
A loud whistling noise followed by a sudden explosion decimated the top deck of the boat and everyone on it, “NOOOOOOOO!” Quinton cried in agony he couldn’t and wouldn’t believe it. He was going to check the burning wreckage before four hands grabbed him and tossed him ashore, it was Horas. Quinton was lost in despair crying out “dad! Dad!” Horas rested his hand and quietly said “he’s gone. He gave you and the rest of time to escape now let’s not waste it.” Horas picked up Quinton and rallied the survivors into the forest to get away as the attackers shifted to the burning boat trying to grab whatever they could before it was incinerated.
The Galran and the young man watched as the boat burned, the young man berating “my uncle is going to kill you, this was supposed to a simple heist. You…you fucked it up!” The Galran didn’t say anything he just stared into the fire as the men in vain tried to recover anything.
—-7 days later—-
Horas got 16 people including Quinton to the nearest town safely. The law were informed and the massacre brought down rangers, law enforcement and even a battalion of Royal army troops. The Zedonian government placed a 55,000 pound bounty on those responsible to attract bounty hunters.
Quinton had cleaned himself up at a hotel he and the others were placed in for the time. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, his father was gone…but what did he mean by “I’m not your father” he said over and over. It was something that bothered Quinton but for now he knew what he wanted to do, he took the money, bought some guns, supplies and a horse. He was going to hunt the bastards that did this down and bring them to justice. Horas said nothing as the young man rode out of town back west.
Several miles near the Xaspeshi border was O’Doyle plantation. Run by Candace “candy” O’Doyle, this plantation was a front for the O’Doyle gang which was the last real outlaw gang in Touli. Candys younger brother Tommy ran the gang with his nephew Curtis, they had at one time ruled up and down western Zedonia. Now they were hiding away in a single shire near the border lands. Candy was sitting in room filled with lavish furniture, thousands of pounds worth of drapes, carpets, trophies, and marbled decorations filled the room. He sat on a high end couch smoking a slim cigarette when his brother and nephew walked in escorting a tall black haired man.
“I do declare they arrive at last!” Tommy and the gang had to travel along rural backroads to avoid the mass of law enforcement outside the shire, he was annoyed at his brother’s declaration upon their entry. “This fool fucked us.” He shoved the man down, “now every ranger, bounty hunter and law dog coming.” Candy shook his head, “do not treat poor Isaac like that, he’s been our enforcer for years and has he not performed admirably til now?” Candy flicked his hand to signal to the Galran to stand up. Candy stood up walking to him, “what in the devil were you thinking? We just needed the safe and some hostages to sell back.” Candy bit down on his cigarette looking rather judgmentally at Isaac, “they had more money on them people then the safe. If the damn boat didn’t explode we’d have a good haul.” Candy nodded making an exaggerated facial expression of his amusement of the explanation, “but” he took the cigarette and jammed it into isaacs eye causing him to scream, unable to escape as candy held his head in place with one hand and the cigarette in the other “you failed me boy, the second time this happened.” He pulled back throwing the smothered cigarette away as Isaac welled at the pain. “I’m sorry gentlemen do you think I am too easy on you? We ain’t making money growing sweet potatoes, where is my goddamn money?!”
Tommy was the first to respond, “we can do another heist. Just need time to cool it.” Candy shook his head, “that won’t work this time. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but this!” He threw a newspaper at his brother “can’t cool down!”. Tommy read the article, dozens dead, national outrage. “We are being tested gentlemen. I need money lots of it. All my bribes are hungry as fuck now, I got new bribes to make, I gotta recruit more guns and I got the goddamn law sniffing around.” The young ginger haired man spoke up, “what about a bank?” Candy rolled his eyes back far, “Craig if I didn’t love ya momma I’d cut your balls off so you didn’t pollute the already fucking shit gene pool that is our family. Rob a bank now? In this heat?!” Craig shook his head, “no not here, in Jamestown.” The room fell silent and intrigued by what the boy had said. “Huh” said candy. “All the law is coming here, so if we hit a bank north they won’t see it coming. Especially in a big city like that.” Tommy looked up at his nephew then at Candy “it ain’t the worst idea” candy shook his head, “no it ain’t, would need a large crew and travel rural it take days if it weeks to reach it undetected and then you got this army of law between us and you.” Isaac stood up holding his burned out eye socket, “we can avoid them on the backroads, that bank can fund us long enough to wait all the heat down.” Candy shook his head, “it’s a shit idea. But whatever, grab 20 men and head north.” The three of them left the room with Isaac taunting Craig “good job pup, now it’s your ass if it fucks up.”
