The first, a short, nimble-legged creature got to the top and raced towards him.
Jostice pointed and fired, blowing out a knee. The creature's slowed, but it continued to press forward. Finger locked like claws, swiping the air madly. One more bullet threw the skull only made the creature hiss, whipping its head violently.
"What in God's name-"
Once the creature was in range, Jostice laid a boot that drove it deep into the pit, screaming on its way down. By that time a second was upon him, black oily liquid painting over the glowing runes. Jostice rolled against the wall, dodging the liquid. He flipped his barrel and fired - three to the chest - no impact.
The creature leaped, Jostice sidestepped as it's momentum drove it into the wall. Bones popped like corn as the creature ricocheted, slamming on his back sliding down the slope, hissing all the way down.
Five more found the top, swiping and shrieking. Jostice flipped his cylinder, pulling a single blackish-blue achellet from his coat and slid it into the chamber. He flipped it closed, aimed, and squeezed the trigger. The revolver kicked like a son-of-a-bitch. He groaned, shoulder burning. A flare of blue disappeared into the lead stalker; the bullet erupted and link lighting passed through the five followers. One head exploding after the other.
The bodies twitched and dropped while black, shelled, bladed-legged creatures emerged, darting towards the man. Jostice twirled his gun, catching the barrel tip in hand. Five heavy swings left the arthropods twitching on the ground.
"Fuck!" Jostice scanned the bowl, watching, twenty at least, rising from the shadows. "There are far too many of them-"
There was a bang!
From the north, a sphere of light arched and dropped into the gloom, Illuminating the sea of bodies pushing to free themselves from the bottom.
Fifty at least, all working to scale the slope. Their shrieks like a numbing chant.
Jostice turned to see a party of three staring back: Boone, Leslie, Morgan Dale stood by the tunnel flicking matches, igniting fuses.
"The throat!" Boone hands covered his face. "Shoot them in the throat!"
Two sparkling objects twirled down into the bowl and erupted. The cave shook and rattled. Limbs and chunks projecting everywhere.
Leslie waved pointed to the throne, "he's the catalyst!"
Morgan Dale's shotgun cocked, "We'll handle these pieces of shit ... you handle that turd!"
Jostice looked up to the throne, eyeing the shadow that held out the rubied ring. A shock pushed his legs forwards and he ran across the narrow bridge, blasting and driving a boot into any creatures that followed.
Once on the other side, he ascended the stoney steps, rising slowly towards the throne. A hundred, short, uneven steps to the top. He twirled and let two more have it; their throats oozing yellow liquid as they tumbled to the bottom.
"I'm coming for ya, you prick!" He glared, stomping up the final set, gun raised, pain ripping his shoulder.
Fire erupted around the throne from four torches. Jostice halted. His body stiff like he'd been shot by a paralysis bullet. Heart pounding in his ears. Eyes trembling, lip quivering. Gun drawn on the head of the man he once called father.
Jerocobish stared with eyes black as marbles while his flesh was blotchy and black as midnight. The once white beard was a stained yellow. His body covered the torn remains of his best suit.
Jostice arms shook, "you bastard!"
Bones cracked. Jerocobish's head corked, jaw unhinged. From his throat came a ticking noise as half of the beady, black-eyed creature emerged, swaying back and forth, tempting the man's hand.
Jostice eyebrows sunk.
He shot like a revolver. The creature leaned back then sprayed oily liquid. In a quick motion, Jostive tilted his head, allowing his chest to take much of the impact. He ignored the burn and swung his right, fingerless hand while the creature dart back inside the orfice. It was too slow against the draw of a gunslinger. With a mighty pull, Jostice ripped the creature from its den, mandibles snapping. He smashed the backend of his revolver until the creature dangled in hand. He tossed it aside.
Jerocobish collapsed and the Ace's allowed his weight to fall into his arms.
A ring echoed. Jostice twisted at the neck, watching. The ruby skipped down the steps, twirling in the air, falling towards the black bowl at the bottom; it stopped and wedged between a boot and stone step.
Jostice lifted his eyes, watching the boy of fifteen reach down and grasp the ruby, bringing it to eyes that dazzled of brilliant red and vibrant blue. Boone tilted his chin, whirled back his arm and slumg the ring. Jostice snatched it from the air, grimacing.
"This is one thing the Mayor won't be getting back!"
He set his father down on the stone, turned towards the moon, and heaved the ring where it fell lost to the world.
***
They emerged from the canyon to the roar of the crowd, and the Mayor's voice blaring over the large, coned instrument.
"And we have our winner. Jostice Beatpost!"
The crowd cheered louder, the canyon rumbling like there had been a quake.
"They're cheering for you," Leslie said, smiling. "And you've earned it."
He shook his head and looked at the boy. "I didn't earn anything ... Boone is the true Iron Alchemist ... he recovered the ring."
The boy grinned, displaying his chipped, broken teeth. Blood dry around his lips. "It was a clan win ... I was just part of the effort."
Morgan Dale laughed. His bald head glimmering from starlight. "Y'all are just giving titles away like they mean nothing ... hell, if you don't want it, you can start referring me to The Iron Alchemist. It can go with the several other titles I've earned."
"Yapper is the only title I'd give you." Jostice rose his hand and winced. Morgan Dale gave it a shake, then quickly, lifted Ace's arm until it popped. "For the regimens sake!"
"You need to get handle on that shoulder of yours ..."
Jostice laughed, "I will when you get a handle on that tongue."
He faced Leslie who was even more beautiful with the lights of night upon her. Standing strong, even though she'd been battered and beaten. Smiling with the warmth of spring while the smell of the prairie wafting off her skin.
"Where'd you get that dynamite?"
She laughed, "after Morgan Dale showed up he allowed me to make an example out of heckles - And I gave him the explosion he wanted."
Jostice smirked, "explains what shook the earth, and made Varko stumble ... you saved my life more than once ... I think I owe you."
He stepped forward, and with his good hand, brought a digit below her chin, slowly raising it until their eyes greeted. It was his turn to return the gesture. He brought his lips towards her, gently pressing them together, while everything around them faded.
Scarlet strands ... Olive skin ... and the smell of the prairie.