Holonovel, Chapter 7 (Conclusion)

Posted on Mon Mar 23, 2020 @ 12:56pm by Commander Caleb Ryan & Civilian Opal Oliver (Deceased) Dr

1,526 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Things Past
Location: Holodeck 3
Timeline: MD01 -minus 1 day

Shane’s stallion clip-clopped down the dusty main street of town. Townsfolk caught one look at the man in black and hurried their children inside, the streets clearing. Shane stopped outside the saloon and swung down off his horse, tying it to the hitching post. The guns at his hips gleamed in the sun as he headed toward the doors of the saloon and pushed them open, stepping inside.

Inside were a few of the local townsfolk, but at the bar sat Jarred and Clayton together, talking together. They looked up as the doors swung open to admit Shane and swing back behind him. He was an impressive sight, and Clayton removed his hat and put it on the bar beside him.

Jarred had a nasty sneer on his face when he recognised Shane, even though it did take him a few moments to do so, the appearance of the ranch hand that had been Shane's usual attire, now gone and replaced by that of a gunslinger.

The random townsfolk mostly scattered and got outside quickly, fearing this might break out in here any minute. The bartender looked very unhappy and started surreptitiously removing all glass and valuables from the top of the bar and behind it, to underneath it, trying all the time not to be noticed.

Clayton muttered something to Jarred, which made the latter laugh unpleasantly and give a nod of agreement.

Rising from his bar stool, Clayton straightened up his own guns in their holsters and put his hat back on, tilting it forwards as he did.

"Ah'd started thinkin' Ah was gonna have ta kill all them ranch owners one bah one fore Ah could spook ya out from under that purdy lil widder womin's skirts ya'd taken ta hidin behind. Ah'm dissappointed now, as I was lookin’ forward to takin’ off them skirts she wears so high an’ mighty like." He jeered at Shane, trying to taunt him into drawing on him first.

Jarred was still wearing his nasty sneer when he couldn't help but add, "You'll not touch her Clayton. That one is my prize, you hear me?" he said, deliberately loud enough for Shane to hear clearly.

Shane’s eyes flicked to Jarred, only for a moment, as if to say he was next, before returning quickly to Clayton, the more dangerous man in the room. He said nothing, not rising to Clayton’s taunts, merely staring him down, waiting for him to draw.

Clayton was waiting for the tiniest distraction, and he took Shane's split second glance as a cue and went for his sleek black pistol with a smooth and dangerously fast motion and hoped the distraction would last long enough for the bullet to hit him before he could react.

Unfortunately for Clayton, it was not that long a distraction after all.

Shane’s hand moved faster than a snake. His pearl handled Colt Peacemaker was up his hand and firing even as Clayton’s did. Clayton jerked, a dark red stain spreading over his white shirt even as Shane turned his gun to Jarred, who had gone for his weapon, as well. The bullet caught Jarred in the gut, sending him doubled over to the floor, his gun skittering away.

The saloon fell silent. The tension faded from Shayne’s body, and he slipped his gun in his holster. “Whiskey,” he told the barman as the sound of hooves clattering could be heard outside. Shayne tossed back his drink just as Carrie White rushed into the saloon, heedless of the impropriety of a proper woman being in such a place.

"Shane?" Carrie blurted out desperately, having heard several shots as she approached and being too beside herself with worry to remember she shouldn't call him by his first name, nor even be inside a saloon looking for him.

Shane tossed back the whiskey and turned to Carrie. “Ah said Ah’d handle it, Mrs. White.” He nodded over to Jarred’s body, bleeding out on the floor. “It’s handled.” He pushed himself up off the stool, a dark, wet stain low on his shirt spreading, crimson dripping to the floor. “Ah’ll be takin’ mah leave now. Thank you for everything, Mrs. White.”

"Shane, you're hurt, please stop saying thank you to me.I have to thank you. Please don't just go." She tried to stem the bleeding by holding a wad of material she tore quickly from the bottom of her petticoats against the growing crimson pool on his shirt. She pushed against the wound as firmly as she dared, hoping not to hurt him, but at the same time to get the bleeding to stop. She turned her head to the bar-tender and shouted to him frankly to get the doctor.

“Ah just did what had ta be done,” Shane said. “It’s just a flesh wound,” he reassured Carrie, straightening up. “Not a big deal.” He tossed another whiskey back and walked steadily out of the saloon. “Live yer life, Mrs. White,” he told her, tipping his hat to her as he put it on. “It’s time ta be movin’ on. Fer both of us.” He swung up into the saddle and gathered the reins in his hand, saluting her once more before clicking his tongue and swinging the horse around, riding on down Main Street as people came out of the shops and homes along the road to watch him ride off, the sun setting before him. His silhouette sat straight and upright in the saddle as he rode to the horizon, and just before disappearing, seemed to slump a little.

And then Shane was gone.

Carrie followed him to the doors and watched him mount up, trying once more to tell him the doctor would be here shortly, and if he would only stay and be seen, but it was in vain, and Shane was gone without letting her say more. Now he would never know.

Carrie wanted to tell him that he washer life, and that she was pregnant. But he clearly didn't want to hear any arguments to make him stay.
He didn't let her say any more, he had made up his mind and wasn't open to any further discussion.

She went back to her horse and began to ride back to her farmhouse. It was safe for her there now, thanks to Shane. "Shane." Just the thought of him reduced her to floods of tears before she even got home, but when she was inside and there were two dinners spoiling on the side, she threw them both away and went to bed. She wept herself to sleep, but not before offering up prayers that he was telling the truth and it was only flesh wound. She wanted to know he was out there somewhere, even if he was never coming back to her and the baby.

As they shut down the holoprogram, Opal was still visibly upset about the whole story; the way it ended, and tearful even as she looked at Caleb as they stood in the box shaped cross pattern of the no longer functioning holosuite. She didn't make any move to leave the empty space, just standing there, seeming to be overcome as she stared at the wall where Shane had ridden away just minutes before.

"What would I do if you rode off into the horizon and didn't come back?" she asked Caleb, her voice little above a hoarse whisper, shaking and clearly very emotionally drawn to stay there, not even understanding why she didn't want to just go as they usually did.

Caleb wrapped his strong arms around Opal and kissed her forehead as he held her. “You would get on just fine, because yer a strong woman, Opal,” he said. “Jus’ like Carrie.”

Opal felt better for being in Caleb's arms, and she nestled there for a few moments. She hadn't got to tell Shane about the pregnancy, and as there was no narration, he wouldn't know.

Then she took in a deep breath and let go of him. It was only a holoprogram, it wasn't real! she told herself silently and firmly. Then she said, "Amia's a strong woman too, but becoming a widow has been hard on her. And becoming a widower was even harder for you with a teenager to raise alone. I'm just saying I realise how awful it would be. We all have to get through stuff like that if it happens, but I can see now that I got into the story too personally. I really immersed in it, and I didn't keep separate enough from the real me.

"I guess it's a lesson in a way. A person can never truly know what something like that actually feels like, until life throws a curved ball at you and you get to dip your virtual toe into the water of what their friends and loved ones are going through. It's humbling," she explained and hugged him one more time.

FIN

Cdr. Caleb Ryan/Shane Black
Executive Officer/Gunslinger

Dr. Opal Oliver
Civilian
NPC Amia Telamon

 

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