See ya, Cowboy! by KJ Micheal (top 10 books to read txt) 📕

"DONT PLAY DUMB WITH ME YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" Micah screamed out, delivering another kick to James's now protected gut. "WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?" He went to kick him again, now connecting with his head. James rolled over from the blow; blood dripping from a gap in his teeth.

Micah spoke again after a moment, panting, "Look at you! What a mess!" He turned back to face the others, who had watched in enjoyment. "What do you think, boys? Ya think that smile will still be able to capture the hearts of the ladies?" They bursted into laughter, and once finished, "Hey, now that I think about it...didn't that poster say 'dead or alive?'

"I think it did!" The other man spoke up. "But we'll have to carry the body."

Micah said, "That's fine, Jonah. We'll have ol' hollow brain carry him."

"C'mon, Micah, yer always teasin' me!" Jessie whined. 

James laid across the ground; his cheek pressing against the dirt as he looked up at the men. He felt dazed and confused. The world seemed to spin around him. He felt like puking. Through the confusion, he noticed a figure walk up to him. The figure stopped, looking down at him.

Micah's voice sounded distant, but comprehensible, "Alright, Baby...this is goodby."

James heard the dreadful clicking of the revolvers hammer and knew his fate was sealed, yet he never felt more ready to die. He was tired of fighting; tired of trying. He was content with his impending fate.

He thought, I'll see you soon, Brother...

James waited for the gun to fire...for it to finally deliver him eternal peace...

...though, eternal peace would have to wait.

"Oh, SHIT!" Micah yelled out, followed by an eruption of gunfire.

James pinched his eyes shut and covered his ears as a sharp pain shot through his head correspondingly with each gunshot. Over the sound of gunfire, and the men's screams, was the sound of whooping from all around. He opened his eyes, watching as an arrow flew past Micahs head and struck Jessie in the shoulder, causing him to drop his revolver. He screamed in pain as another arrow struck him in the thigh, sending him to the ground. From the side, a man rushed at a crippled Jessie, whooping as he held his hatchet high above his head. Before the man could reach Jessie, he was struck in the chest by a bullet, dropping the tomahawk, and himself to the ground.

Jessie looked over at Jonah, who held his rifle pointed at the deceased man.

"What the hell are ya doin'?" Jonah barked. "Get up and fi-" An arrow pierced his neck, cutting him short. He fell to the ground, grabbing at the protruding arrow as he gargled on his own blood; Jessie screamed in terror as he watched. Micah looked back at the other two, cussing as he realized he was on his own.

James closed his eyes, pulling the curtains closed on the gruesome scene that played out before him, and opened them up to another one. As he laid across the ground, he once again thought back to his childhood...back to the days where he would lay out atop of the grassy hills, soaking in the gentle, elegant warmth of the midday sun. Under the light of the sun, he had felt a feeling of importance. He felt as if his life would one day have purpose...to one day do good in his life. He had felt like he was on the grand stage of life and God himself directed the spotlight towards him, bringing attention to a boy who would do great things in the future...who would meet many people and help many more. He wanted to be the light in the darkness. After all...that was his dream. Though, he knew deep down that the light wouldn't always be there, and before long, the spotlight was gone and the feeling of purpose went along with it. Without a feeling of purpose, he began to grow distant, losing faith in the world around him. He grew hateful as a feeling of abandonment won its eternal battle. He then accepted the truth that the spotlight had moved on from him...that his moment of importance had long passed. He was no longer watched...no longer cared for, and so the thought of why he should continue to care for a world that did not return the favor resided deep within him, growing within him until the thought turned into actions. Those actions would eventually take the lives of those who walked in the light. That was the cruel reality of it all. The tragedy of his life would result in the tragedy of others, and that could never be changed.

He was once again brought back to reality, carrying regained knowledge with him. The sound of a cruel world filling his ears and filling his hatred--nowadays that's all it ever seemed to do.

James opened his eyes as Jessie cried out for help to Micah, who fled into the forest; men carring bows and tomahawks chased after him. A man ran out from behind a tree, grabbing the tomahawk off of the ground and charged at Jessie, who cried out as the man swung the tomahawk down at his head.

James closed his eyes. He was sick of the violence, sick of the death; he was sick of it all, but that's the way it was...that was the cruel reality of the world he lived in. The evil outworked the good. Deep down, he wished that things were different...that maybe one day things would be different...that one day, the spotlight would cover the entire world, brining light to the darkness...but for now, in a world so dimly lit, it was hard to traverse down a path of righteousness. A path filled with many deviations promising you many things; things that were tempting; things that would stray you away from the path of righteousness and down a path of temptation, and as you follow this path, it'll continue to grow ever darker until theres no light to be seen and you're lost...trapped within the darkness with seemingly no way out, and what else are you left to do but to adapt to it; to become one with the darkness. 

James knew thats where he had been, and thats where he currently was...

...trapped.

It's a cruel...cruel world, Cowboy.

The light from the raging fire illuminated the many men, women and children who danced around it, moving in a ritual-like manner; the clothes they wore suggested they lived off of the land.

Sitting just out of reach of the fire's light was James, who watched curiously. He sat against a tree; a rope tied around his chest and the tree kept him immobile; his hands were bound together in front of him. A few moments prior, he had awakened to the sound of drums beating and people hollering out in excitement. As he watched, he had noticed something; he had felt different...he had felt better. Observing himself, he had noticed that the sleeve on his right arm and his right pant leg had been torn just above his wounds and placed on top of the wound had been a herbal solution wrapped tight by cloth.

As he observed the many people dance around the fire, he heard a sudden, audible rustling sound coming from his right. He looked over in response at a man tied up against a tree the same way he had been. A disgusted look grew across James's face as Micah came to - noticing him in return.

Micah spoke; his voice was filled with confusion and anger, "James? What the hell are you doing here? Why are we tied up? What is going on?"

"Isn't it obvious?" James mumbled. "They captured us." He nodded his head towards the people around the fire. "I was already laying half dead on the ground so I wasn't much of a problem to deal with, and I suppose that you didn't run away quick enough."

Micah stumbled on his words before raising his voice, "Wha- You sonova bitch! If I wasn't tied up against this damn tree...I'd kill you with my own two hands!"

James said, "I guess you're outta luck..." And then, "Well, you never had luck to begin with."

Micah laughed, "You just don't know when to stop talking, do ya?"

James ignored him as he watched the people dancing around the fire change direction and continue in the opposite direction.

Micah continued, "James...I never took you as the stupid and stubborn type..." James continued to stare at the dancing people as Micah went on, "...Why the hell were you making all that shit up before...acting like ya know nothing?"

James remained silent for a moment before speaking up; his focus still on the people, "That's because I don't...or didn't...there's still stuff I don't remember."

"What the hell are you talking about? 

"I was in a crash...I don't remember how it happened or much of what happened prior to it, and for a while up until just recently, I didn't even know much of myself."

"Are you still fucking with me? You better not be fucking with me."

"Why would I need to lie to you with the current situation we're in?"

"Ah...good point." Micah said, looking around. "So what do you remember?"

"Terrible things..." James said. "I remember many terrible things that I had done."

"No SHIT they were terrible...You ran with us after all."

"Us?" James asked. "Are you talking about those other two you were with?"

"Jonah and Jessie? Nah, they were two brothers that wanted part in your bounty...though they didn't know I was gonna get rid of them once the money was mine."

James spoke, "This bounty..."

"Oh, that's right," Micah said. "The bounty was recent so you'd probably have trouble remembering why."

James asked, "Do you know anything about it?"

"Sorry, but you're out of luck. All I know is that whatever you did, it got yourself quite the target on your back."

James sat in silence as Micah continued on, "Ya know, it's about damn time you got caught! Some of us believed it was never gonna happen - Some of us even believed you were the spawn of Satan." He let out a laugh that turned into a cough. "Satan's Baby!"

James kept his eyes on the people dancing around the fire, but kept his ears on Micah.

He thought, Satan's Baby, huh...

"You really are a terrible person," Micah said; his tone had changed. "I mean...we all are, but you were a different type of evil...and you were younger than all of us!" He went quiet for a moment as he dove into his deepest, most vengeful thoughts. "What you did to us...i'll never forget that."

James listened to every word of it.

His eyes suddenly picked up on a figure straying away from the rest...moving towards Micah and him...moving towards him.

The person reached him and stopped.

He looked into the face of this mysterious person as a sense of disbelief dwelled within his mind. Standing at his feet, staring down at him, was Emma Baker.

"Hey, Cowboy." Emma said with a smile across her face, "It's nice to see you alive and breathing!"

He didn't say a word...He just stared, trying to make sense of the scene that took place in front of him. She was cladded in the same clothing as the others she had been dancing with a