Outlaw Red - Tales From The Wasteland #1

Outlaw Red - Tales From The Wasteland #1

A Story by Andy Leavy
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The first installment in a short story collection I am writing called 'Tales From The Wasteland'. The series will be about different peoples lives in an apocalyptic world.

"

As I walked into the bar I could smell the debauchery in the air from the previous night, the stench shot up my nose instantly and hit me like a wall of sin made from the all familiar iron musk of blood and the salty scent of sex from the previous night. 

If my man was in this settlement then this charming place seemed to be my best bet to finding him. As I walked past three burly card-players, a pianist played a tune far too cheerful for a shithole like this.

The barman broke from his whistling as I approached.

 

“What can I do for ye, sir?”

 

“Whiskey, straight, I’m lookin’ for someone too. Heard he’s been spotted round these parts”

The barman quickly brought me my whiskey, and I just as quickly gulped it down like a slave who’d just been given water for the first time in days.

 

“He’s a rough looking fellow, auburn hair, tall, built like a cart horse. Oh and he has a gnarly scar on his face.”

The barman instantly dropped the whiskey bottle. My man had definitely been here.

 

“Ye, he was here last night. Loud type of fella. Rude too.” replied the visibly shaken Barman.

“Two fellas didn’t like how he acted, decided to have a word with ‘em. Safe to say those boys won’t be talking again anytime soon.”

 

“Do you know where he might have ran off to after that?”

 

The bartender stood silent for a few seconds, as if to consider tellin’ me where he was.


“I’m a big boy, I can look after myself.”

 

“There’s a casino just down the street, last I heard he was frequenting them parts, harassing the girls.” said the Bartender in a reluctant tone.

 

“Thanking you kindly” I replied while flicking a coin towards the Barman.

 

He caught it and quickly scrambled out the words

 

“He’ll kill ye, sir. He ain’t normal”



“Either am I.” 

 

I didn’t just say that to just sound cool either, it was true. You see when the incident happened that turned the past’s modern utopia into the beautiful wasteland that it is now, a lot of things DNA got a mighty shake up.

Beasts, mutants and monsters were created from the years of radiation. A whole sub-species of mutants can be found across the Wasteland, some scary fuckers. Mostly ugly fuckers though. Then there were people like me. Homunculus, they call us.  A human with unnatural abilities, my power allows me to control electricity and metal, pretty f****n’ cool, huh? I can’t do anything crazy like bend the bars of a building but I can still do some pretty cool stuff. That’s why I know Outlaw Red won’t kill me. Sure, the old dog made a name for himself, supposedly 20 men hunted him and that many men were dead. But I wouldn’t be 21, because he ain’t ever faced anything like me before.

 

 

As I walked down the streets of this settlement I looked around and thought of what this place was like before the incident, don’t get me wrong it was one of the better looking settlements I had been to but when I looked at the ruins of the buildings that once stood here I couldn’t help but wonder how beautiful this place would of looked back all them years ago. It was probably a modern piece of living art and now it’s a shadow of its former self with rickety old buildings and broken roads reclaimed by the sand. The same f****n’ sand that’s now being blown into my eyes. I pulled my poncho’s hood over my head and my shawl over my face to keep the damn sand out of my face.

 

I always travel light. You have to, becoming over encumbered could be the death of you. I wear light sleeveless armour, light pants, boots and of course my poncho/shawl combo which I have already mentioned, weapon wise I carry two knives in sheaths on my lower legs and holstered on the right hand side of my body is a .357 Magnum revolver, a tried and tested classic. The last thing you need in out here is your gun jammin' on ya and with a revolver that won’t happen. 

 

Entering the casino I could see it was busy, especially for the middle of the day but places like this are one of the only places you can have fun on this hell on earth. I looked around for Outlaw Red but couldn’t see the b*****d

 

What I did see was ladies of the night being solicited by rich and lonely men, sharks eating minnows on the poker tables and a beautiful red haired woman singing on the stage, if I was not on the job I’d be tempted to hit the tables but I was on the job and I never allow distractions when there’s a job at hand.

 

 I continued to walk around the casino looking for Red until I heard someone shout

 

“Oi you! Billy the kid, you lookin for something?”

 

I turned to see an old, bald man who looked like a ballsack staring at me with a young fair haired girl sitting on his lap, young enough to be his granddaughter to be honest the more I looked the more I thought she was.

 

“I’m looking for a tall fella with a scar on his face goes by the name of Outlaw Red” I replied.

 

Mr.Ballsack looked me up and down before saying “Can’t say I’ve seen such a fellow, you might want to check the back bar though, that’s where all the tough sons of b*****s hang out.”

 

“Thanks” I replied as I nodded my head in gratitude.

 

The back bar was as Mr.Ballsack said, full of tough sons of b*****s, the type of guys you’d bring home to your mother only for them to rob your mother blind. As I walked around I seen some ugly fuckers, one half mutant with no nose and a face which looked melted.

“Damn, you are one ugly f****r!”

F**k off softy he snarled

I kept on walking around the bar and seen a man backhand one of the lady workers while shouting for her to “get lost”, the poor defenseless girl ran back out to the front with a busted lip and tears streaming down her face like a water tower had just exploded in her eyes, a closer look at the woman beating gentleman revealed to me a scar on his face. Outlaw Red.

 

“Are you Outlaw Red?”

 

 “Whose asking??” replied Red.

 

“Ferdia Jones.” I quickly responded, “I’m here to collect on you, now everybody seems to be enjoying themselves here so why don’t you just come with me without causing a fuss, the people here won’t be bothered, I’ll get paid and you’ll get to keep your life. What do ya say?”

 

Red began to laugh as he turned in his seat to look at me

 

“You one cocky b*****d you know that?”

 

 I smirked in agreement

 

“I’m not fond of cocky b******s now leave before I shoot ya dead like the dog you are!”

 

Now it was my turn to laugh and my laughing really pissed Red off just as I had planned. He stood up to confront me

 

“Listen here you little sh-”, he cut his sentence short as he reached to pull out his gun he was fast but I was faster. I sent an electric shock into his hand enough to make him drop his gun, he let out a wail as I pulled out my revolver and shot him straight in the heart. He fell back onto the counter and slouched into the stool as I leaned forward and said

 

“I’m sorry were you saying something? You didn’t finish your sentence.”

 

I couldn’t enjoy the moment for too long though, I looked around and seen everyone frozen and on edge. It only then hit me that to them I was now more dangerous than Red and with unknown intentions so I decided to calm the crowd.

 

 “I won’t hurt any of you, I was just here for him, there was a bounty on his head and I’ve come to collect” I reassured the crowd.

 

I then asked one of the ladies to go to the settlements citadel office and get me someone who could pay me what I was owed. I sat down at the bar and had a drink while I waited. What is the Citadel you may ask? They are a group who attempt to be the government of the Wasteland, once the incident happened and the old world plunged into nothingness many groups emerged attempting to bring order to the land and eventually these groups became the Citadel. Now they work to try and bring this hell hole back to some form of normality but I’m not sure that’s possible outside of the Capital. The Wasteland is covered in monsters, gangs, and constant destruction. The Wasteland is our home, we were born here and we are going to die here. All of us.

 

 

I eventually got my damn money, finished another drink and got some juice for my iron horse then headed home to Cliath. As I drove I started to think of the old world. What would my life of been like? Who and what would I be? I sure as hell wouldn’t be a  bounty hunter...or an Homunculus. Neither would my sister, Shayla though I’m not sure her losing her abilities would be a good thing. She can heal people, with her damn hands! It’s crazy. It’s amazing. I remember one a guy from the settlement; McClure, he got attacked by a Verm Rat, nasty fuckers took a big chunk out of him and he was bleeding out fast. Shayla saved him, she stopped the bleeding and healed his leg and after a week of rest he was back up and kickin'. I have seen some crazy s**t in my life but nothing like what she can do, she is special, she always has been. Deep down she's a pure and good person and deep down I’m not. That’s why she was given a power that fixes and I was given one that destroys.

 

My philosophical thoughts were cut short when I could see smoke in the distance, coming from Cliath! My heart sunk insantly.


“Shayla...”

 

I turned the throttle of my iron horse as far as it could and went speeding towards the smoke, panicking about Shayla trying to convince myself she was okay as my heart tried to jump out of my chest with every sickening beat.

 

When I got to Cliath my panic turned to anger. The place had been f****n' decimated, buildings burning, blood splattered everywhere. The streets decorated with bodies, some were missing limbs and others looked as if they had been mauled alive. I needed to find Shayla. I ran through the streets looking for her becoming more and more skittish with every unanswered call of her name.


“SHAYLA!! SHAYLA WHERE ARE YOU?!?” I screamed as I ran through the settlement until I heard a faint scream in the distance.

 

“SHAYLA!”.

 

I ran to the scream hoping to find my sister. But I didn’t, I found f****n’ Thomas, one of Cliath's hunters. He lay covered in blood, it dripped from every hole he had as he hung from a bar impaling his left shoulder like an animal held up by meat hooks in a butchers

 

 “Thomas what happened here?!? Where is Shayla?”

 

 He struggled to speak at all, as blood poured from his mouth he spluttered.

 

 “They attacked us....th....they....slaughtered everyone....they ate some!!...”

 

“WHO?!? THOMAS TELL ME WHERE IS MY SISTER?!?” I screamed

 

“They....they took her....”

 

“Who took her Thomas?!? F*****G TELL ME OR SO HELP ME I’LL-”

 

“The Savages!” he screamed back. “....the cannibals took Shayla....”

© 2019 Andy Leavy


Author's Note

Andy Leavy
Hope you enjoy it, please be honest in Review. Constructive Criticism welcomed.


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Added on December 10, 2016
Last Updated on October 17, 2019
Tags: short story, action, western, apocalyptic, collection, story, essay, adventure, mature, crude, outlaw, bounty hunter

Author

Andy Leavy
Andy Leavy

Ardee, Louth, Ireland



About
Aspiring Comic Book Writer but will be posting other stuff here too short stories etc. Most will be Adventure/Action or Sci-Fi but I will dabble in other genres. Hope you enjoy what you see and don't .. more..

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