Jostice pounded on the jailhouse door with a heavy hand. Bang! Bang! Bang! The door rattled on the hinges.
A deputy with a crooked lip ripped the door open. "Who is it?" His revolver drawn and hammer cranked back.
Jostice pointed to his badge, "they call me the Sheriff … now get lost!"
The deputy squinted looking upon the pin. Jostice pinched the ends and twisted until light reflected, blinding the mans eyes. He raised a hand. "What in tarnation is you doing?"
"My job! And what're you doing besides getting in my way?"
"You nearly blinded me—"
"And serves you right," Jostice shoved past the man, snagging his keyring, then brought the boot to his rear and kicked him out the door. "Now get!"
The man stood defeated on the porch. "And what am I to do?"
"I don't know … get that lip checked." The door slammed as Jostice headed towards the cells. Fist waving at his hips. Nose wrinkle. And eyes as dark as sin.
Time was running out for his Pappy. If he waited much longer the Yurks would grow tired of his banter and send him off in a fit of rage, torturing him in the worst ways imaginable. Jostice had faced the Yurks when be rode down the Wagon Run back in the days when he raced wagons with Remmiron. The competition was fierce … and the Yurks even fiercer … believing they were far more dangerous than the weather and competitors ever were.
Jostice grabbed the iron bars and peered inside. In the center of the room the warrior sat, chest out, eyes sunken. The flesh around his throat cruster red and black. He grinned wickedly.
"You haven't forgotten me, I see." Jostice unlocked the door, slipped inside, and slammed the door behind him. "Nor I you… We've got unfinished business." He hung the keys by the door. "I'm going to make you a deal … you get through me and you can have these keys … but if I win, and you don't tell me where Jerocobish is, I'm going to take my gun out and blow off your pecker." Jostice unbuckled his gun belt and tossed it outside the cell.
"Now … do we have a deal?"
The Yurk bared a mouth of crooked, black teeth. He raised his chin and let out a low, rumbling growl, as he slowly stood to his feet. A monsterous man of nearly seven feet, looming over Jostice like a grotesque tree ready to rip him limb-for-limb.
He's bigger than I remember Jostice thought, with hardly a moment to spare—
Varko shifted at his waist and swung wide, his large fist heaving towards him. Jostice ducked, as the man roared. Air wooshed by Aces head nearly removing his hat. Jostice countered, leaning low and bringing his fist up into the Yurks ribs. There was a crack and the you man coughed, spinning off the pain while he hrew a back-handed swing; bone smashed chin as Ace slammed against the floor. He groaned.
Red strands … Olive skin … And the smell of the prairie … Jostice heard the words inside his head.
Varko roared and raised his leg, bringing his blacked foot down towards the floor.
Jostice eyes grew; he rolled to his right, hat slipping from his head, as the foot smashed down flattening the head piece. He grimaced and yelled, "I loved that hat!" As the giant shook it from his heel.
After a long breath, Jostice climbed to his hands and knees; Varko knelt down, shouldered arched, he barreled towards him charging like an angered rhino. Jostice brought his arms up to face the impact … they collided … Jostice stumbled, working to catch himself until his back cracked against the bars, the weight of the man pressing into him. He gasped.
Varko grabbed Jostice by the collar, twisted at his hips, and whipped him across the room. The force sent him into the cement, head bouncing against the cement.
His eyes flashed bright, Red strands … Olive skin … And the smell of the prairie …
He blinked as his eyes adjusted on the mans wrinkled face, growing larger as it grew near. There was no time to brace himself. Varko crushed him into the wall, and Jostice breath left his lungs. The Yurks arms stretched out wide then came together, hands closing around his throat. The ground had gone and Jostice rose towards the ceiling, boots flailing mad.
The Yurk glared into the man's eyes as he squeezed, laughing harshly.
Jostice grabbed the mans wrists; like snakes; thick, round and muscular. Varko pulled him from the wall then slammed him again and again and again until darkness took his sight. With the word around him going, Jostice arms fell limp to his side. His eyelids dropped.
Red strands … Olive skin … the smell of the prairie … Red strands … Olive skin … the smell of the prairie … Red strands … Olive skin … the smell of the prairie … Red ...… RUBY!
Jostice eyes opened. He grabbed at his pocket, feeling the hard gem inside. With not a moment to lose, his hand found his pocket, his finger found the ring, and the ruby flew through the air tearing into scabbed flesh.
The Yurk groaned as Jostice boots found the ground. He gasped while the Yurk stumbled back, patting the red liquid streaming down his throat.
"Son of a bitch!" Jostice reeled back and crouched then sprung upward; the ruby bit into flesh as the giant man timbered to the ground with a thud!
Jostice climbed over the young man, clutching him by the beads around his throat. He swung again and again. Flesh ripping. Bones crunching. Teeth breaking. He swung until all the anger and all the hate for the Mayor was expelled through the ring … And then he stood and spat.
"Now…" He said, looming over the bloodied Yurk. "Do you want to keep your pecker—"
"Sheriff!" Came a voice from the front of the jailhouse. "Sheriff!" Suddenly a man appeared with a tan uniform and crooked smile. He stopped outside the cell. "Sheriff…" The man raised an eyebrow. "What in the fuck happened to you?"
Jostice wiped blood from his face and slipped the ring inside his pocket, then said, "what's it look like? We was talking…"
The man nodded slowly, "right … well … when you've got a second I have somebody outside here … and she's in bad shape!"
She? Jostice walked over to the jailhouse door, unlocked the gate, then followed the man into the next door. There, trembling in the doorway was a girl with satin black hair and green eyes. Her cloths were ragged and worn, eyes sunken and black, and lips torn and blistered. "What in Gods name..."
"Please…" The girls hand trembled as she rose her arm. "My name is Olivica O'donovan and I must find the one they call ... Jostice Beatpost." Her voice faded as her legs gave out.