Jacob reached into his coat, fingers wrapping around three translucent shards that glimmered faintly as if they held a light from some unseen source. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled one of the shards toward Paw-law. The fragment spiraled through the air and embedded itself into Paw-law's injured leg. Instantly, the wound mended, the seared flesh knitting itself back together. Paw-law groaned, his pain dissipating as the shard dislodged itself and flew back into Jacob's waiting hand.
Jacob gave a casual glance toward Jed, the cigarette still perched between his lips. "If you're wonderin' what I can do, old man, don't bother. I ain't tellin'."
Jed snorted, flexing his fingers around the revolver's grip. "Figures. You look like the type who keeps his cards close to his chest." His tone was dry, laced with just enough sarcasm to make his cynicism clear.
Jacob smiled faintly, his eyes narrowing. "Smart for an old dog. Shame it won't help you much."
Without warning, Jacob threw the second shard a few meters behind Jed. It landed with a soft plink, glowing faintly before settling into the dirt.
Jed's sharp eyes flicked toward it, his instincts kicking in. "What's that supposed to be? A cheap parlor trick?"
Jacob didn't answer. The faint glow of the shard intensified for a split second, and in the blink of an eye, Jacob vanished from his position.
Jed's stomach sank as he heard the crunch of boots behind him. Slowly, he turned his head, finding Jacob standing there, cigarette in hand, his revolver now aimed squarely at Jed's back. Jed's brow furrowed, his instincts kicking in.
The two moved simultaneously. Jed spun and fired, his bullet tearing through the air with deadly precision. Jacob fired back, the sound of their shots cracking the tense silence like lightning. Jed's bullet hit its mark, tearing into Jacob's side just below his ribs. Blood sprayed as Jacob staggered, a grunt escaping his lips.
But Jed wasn't unscathed. Jacob's shot slammed into his arm, spinning him backward with the force of the impact. A sharp pain tore through Jed's shoulder as he stumbled, his revolver clattering to the dirt for a split second before he dove behind a nearby rock.
Jacob didn't waste time, retreating to cover of his own as he pressed a hand to his wound. Blood seeped between his fingers, but his expression remained cold, calculating. He cursed silently, his mind racing.
Shit. I can't rewind time here. If I do, I'll reverse the bullet in his arm too. That old bastard might've already figured something out, and I can't afford to give him any ground. Gotta think this through. Gotta be careful.*
On the other side of the clearing, Jed pressed his back against the rock, his breathing steady despite the pain radiating through his arm. His hat was tilted low, shielding his eyes as he glanced down at the blood soaking his sleeve.
That son of a bitch. I shot him clean, but he keeps bouncin' back like he's got a guardian angel or somethin'. Damn, cigarette's still in his mouth like I didn't just put a hole in him. That means somethin's off. Either he can turn back the clock or undo what's been done. Either way, I'm dealin' with a tricky bastard.
Jed squinted at Paw-law and Jacob, the old man's revolver still gripped tightly in his hand. He didn't lower it completely, even as his mind raced. His nephew Charlie lay sprawled on the ground, unconscious, and the young Native American kid, Ahiga, was coughing up dirt nearby. Paw-law was leaning lazily against his horse, a wry grin curling on his lips as he watched the chaos settle.
Jed's voice was sharp and cutting, his suspicion thick in the air. "Why are you sons of bitches attackin' my nephew, huh? You better have a damn good reason, or I'm puttin' holes in both of you."
Paw-law raised an eyebrow, his smirk unfazed by Jed's anger. "Your nephew? Didn't know we were takin' on family. Shame, really. But it wasn't personal, old man—it's 'cause he's got the holy crystal."
Jed stiffened, his weathered face twisting with disbelief. "Holy crystal? You think we've got it?" He barked out a laugh, laced with both bitterness and incredulity. "You're dumber than you look, boy. We don't have your goddamn crystal."
Jacob, clutching his stomach where the bullet had grazed him earlier, straightened and glared at Jed. "If you don't have it, then who does?" His voice carried a sharp edge, frustration bubbling beneath his calm façade.
Jed sighed, finally holstering his revolver, though his hand lingered near the hilt. "There's a sheriff—Cody. White guy from Coos Bay. He's the one who's got it. And there's another fella, Jose. Mexican, meaner than a rattlesnake. He's around these parts lookin' for the next crystal."
Paw-law's smirk dropped into a thoughtful frown. "Cody and Jose, huh? Well, that makes things interestin'." He glanced at Jacob, who was still steadying himself against his horse. "How about it, Jacob? Feel like takin' a little detour to find 'em?"
Jacob let out a long, slow breath, his cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. He shrugged, though his face was pale from blood loss. "Sure. Why the hell not? Not like we've got anywhere else to be."
Jed, still watching them both like a hawk, snorted. "Good luck findin' 'em, you dumb bastards. You'll need it."
Jacob rolled his eyes, pulling another shard from his coat and tossing it toward Paw-law. It landed near his leg, glowing briefly before mending another of his wounds. Paw-law smirked as the shard returned to Jacob's hand like a loyal pet.
"Don't worry, old man," Paw-law said, climbing onto his horse. "We'll leave you and your family in one piece—this time. Consider yourselves lucky."
Jacob mounted his horse with more effort, his eyes narrowing as he lit another cigarette. "Damn lucky," he echoed, giving Jed a lingering glance before following Paw-law into the distance.
As the sound of hoofbeats faded, Jed let out a long, weary sigh, his knees buckling as he dropped onto his back. Staring up at the sky, he muttered under his breath. "Kid... once again, me and you are the luckiest bastards alive." He turned his head to glance at Charlie, still unconscious and shook his head. "You better wake up soon, boy. We've got bigger problems ahead." Far away, on a dusty trail cutting through the wilderness, Sheriff Cody rode his horse at a steady pace. His worn leather coat flapped lightly in the breeze, and his sharp blue eyes scanned the map in his hands.
"Well, I'll be damned," Cody muttered to himself, a grin tugging at his lips. "Looks like I'm finally on the right track." He folded the map with a quick, practiced motion and slid it back into his pocket, urging his horse forward.
Ahead, another rider emerged from the treeline—a figure draped in shadows, his posture relaxed yet unnervingly poised. Cody squinted, his hand resting casually near his holster.
As the rider drew closer, Cody recognized him: Jose. The man's sharp features and confident smirk were unmistakable.
Cody leaned forward slightly in his saddle, raising his voice. "Yo, Jose! That crystal is mine!"
Jose didn't respond. Instead, his head tilted slightly, the motion slow and deliberate, his smirk widening as if amused by Cody's declaration. His head tilted ever so slightly, his expression shifting into something predatory. One of his eyes gleamed, wolf-like and feral, while the other remained dark with a sharp, calculating focus. His teeth, elongated and razor-sharp, bared in a subtle snarl
Unbeknownst to Cody, Jose's face shifted subtly, an eerie transformation taking place in the shadows of his expression. His left eye opened wide, glowing faintly with a wolf-like intensity, while the other narrowed, its human determination blending with something far more feral. Sharp, elongated teeth appeared in a predatory snarl, framed by the faintest ripple of fur across his cheekbones.
But Cody was too focused on Jose's unnerving silence and body language to notice anything amiss. From Cody's perspective, Jose looked as calm and collected as ever, his smirk as irritatingly composed as usual.
In Cody's mind, confusion mingled with frustration. Why the hell ain't he sayin' nothin'? He tightened his grip on the reins, his instincts gnawing at him. What's this guy's game?