El Paso City

Finally, she discovered me. I felt like a little boy, caught with his hand in the cookie jar. I needn't have worried. She didn't even stop singing as she ran towards me and threw herself into my arms. She did stop singing, though, when the kissing started.

I figured I should probably get to know the city I was going to live in, but I hadn't made much progress. It was much more fun to be shown around by Feli. We were minding our own business, sitting on a stone bench in a pretty little park, enjoying the sights when we weren't staring at each other like love-struck teenagers.

Suddenly, everything went black, and my hands were pulled behind my back and tied together. Next thing I knew, I was being pulled off the bench and dragged somewhere. I had been caught like a... well, like a damn accountant. Unfortunately, that's exactly what I was. My razor-like brain immediately intuited that somebody wanted me to be somewhere else, and that I probably wouldn't like the somewhere else.

"Feli?" I tried to shout through the bag or whatever it was over my head.

"I'm here." Her reply was equally muffled, so I guessed she had been bagged as well.

"Listen, assholes. You shut up, or we'll make you wish you had. Got that?"

Neither of us had anything to say to that. I wondered briefly what Traci would have found to say? She probably would have only shrieked anyway, so it was just as well she wasn't there. We were pushed into what I guessed was a delivery van, as we found ourselves sitting on a hard floor. As we were driven to wherever we were going, I tried not to concentrate on my increasing panic, my worries about Feli and how hard it was to breathe under this damn sack. I did not think that hollering, "Hey, I can't breathe in here!" would have a positive result, so I didn't do it. I had never felt so helpless in my life.

Being a lone wolf type meant I had few, make that no, friends, but it also meant I had no enemies. I wondered if that changed when I killed a few guys the other day? That's been known to happen. Perhaps our new acquaintances were connected with the deceased gentlemen. But then why bother with Felicia? She hadn't killed anyone, as far as I knew.

When I was finally un-bagged, all my questions could have been answered, except they weren't. I looked into a face I had never seen before, which was a good thing, because it was exceptionally ugly. The cheap looking tattoo didn't help at all. I was close enough to gag on his bad breath, and I still couldn't tell what it was supposed to be. The only thing I was certain of was that it was some kind of animal.

"That tatt..." I started to ask. For some morbid reason, I really wanted to know what that blotchy blob was supposed to be.

"Shut up and follow me. The boss wants to see you," he interrupted me and he said 'boss' as if the importance of the situation should be self-evident.

"Umm," was my clever reply.

"The BIG boss, man."

Okay, this was a big deal for him and I concluded that might make it a big deal for me, too. It turned out we were in a courtyard in the middle of some abandoned industrial buildings. The guy led us inside one of the buildings to a rather large room, where a man was already standing at a window, obviously waiting for us with diminishing patience. I wasn't surprised to see another example of the tattooist's nightmare on his face, but I was getting a bit tired of it.

"Please, have a seat," he began, pointing at two lonely antique office chairs in the middle of the otherwise empty room. "So glad you agreed to meet me," he continued, obviously thinking he had made a clever joke.

"I'm Clint, and you probably ask yourself why I expressed my wish to meet you in this rather unusual way."

He was going for suave, and it wasn't working. He was street thug through and through.

The guy who brought us in had positioned himself at the window, where Clint had been before. He tried to look important and alert, after all this was the "BIG boss," but clearly had no idea what was going on. Even an accountant could figure out that leaning with his back to the window, visible from the courtyard, might not be the safest choice of position. The other guy had apparently stayed in the van.

"Listen, dude," the guy who had introduced himself as Clint continued and I couldn't help but think of Jeffrey Lebowski. Unfortunately, neither his high-pitched voice nor his slender build lent him much authority. I didn't doubt he was a mean bastard, though. You didn't get to be the "BIG boss" by being a nice guy. "Momo and his guys were worthless scum, but they were my scum. There are rules. There would be chaos on my streets without rules. You understand that, right?"

He explained that slowly and methodically, to make sure we really understood it. He was obviously used to dealing with idiots.

"This needs to be settled," he continued. "I can't have word out on the street some asshole can shoot my homies and get away with it. You need to pay."

I thought about reasoning with him. After all, I had just defended myself against a bunch of crazy junkies. I knew it wouldn't make any difference, so I didn't. This wasn't about logic or justice. This was about defending his reputation, meaning his business and possibly his life.

"All right, what do you want, Clint?" I asked, trying to sound cool as fuck. I might have succeeded, he seemed to look a tad unsettled.

He could have just shot me, but instead he wanted this talk. He was curious. I guessed that, like the cops, he wanted to understand what had happened in that shop. Hell, even I wanted to understand that. We both knew he couldn't just ask straight away. Obviously unsure how to proceed, he pointed at Felicia.

"How about this ho? We could use her."

He was stalling. She wasn't important for him; she hadn't killed his buddies. He was testing my reaction.

"That's it? You get her and we're even?"

No way he would let me walk out of there alive. I knew and he knew I knew. I just wanted to have her out of there, and he certainly knew that. I guessed he might have planned to have her pay on her back for her life, though.

"Yeah, dude. That's the deal."

"What do you think?" I asked her.

"Sounds reasonable," she said, sounding totally cool. I was proud of her. She knew I would never give her up, she knew I'd rather die for her. I had the vague feeling I had done it before. My main goal was to have her out of there before the dying started.

Surprisingly, Clint started to laugh.

"What a great love story. Man, I'm moved to tears. I just have one small problem."

"And that is?"

"Let's say she starts working for me. Let's say I set you free..."

"That's the deal."

"What do you think would happen? Momo was an asshole and in a way you did me a favor, but he was one tough son of a bitch. Deuce and Edward were pretty tough bastards, too..."

"Edward?" I couldn't help but laugh. "You're trying to tell me his gang name was Edward?"

He joined my laughter. "Pretty fucked up, huh? Wasn't his real name. Don't ask me. He was an okay guy. We played poker from time to time. The bastard always tried to cheat. He was so bad at it, we always caught him. We laughed so hard..." He had a faraway look, obviously remembering one of the guys I killed. "Can you believe he loved Macaroni and cheese? I mean, seriously... And that damn song he heard all the time... It drove me nuts..."

He kept reminiscing, lost in his own thoughts. It was an overall uncomfortable situation, and it almost made me feel a bit guilty for having killed Edward, the Macaroni lover.

"Anyway," he finally returned to us, shaking his head. "The drugs were eating them all up. Still, how the fuck did you do that? As a pro hitman, you would be worth your weight in gold, you know that?"

I finally understood why we were still alive. That guy was in trouble. He might even have been doomed already. He was clutching at a straw. He needed a miracle, and he thought I might be it. Problem was, I didn't exactly feel like a miracle. I felt like some random accountant, sitting in an abandoned warehouse with his hands tied behind his back.

"Okay, so what's the deal? You would want her to work for you and you want me too?"

"Her? What? Nah. I could let her go. But..."

Yeah, but, I thought. He'd love to use me, but he didn't trust me and he was definitely afraid of me. For him, I was a ticking time bomb. It would be safer just to kill me, but that wouldn't solve his real problem, whatever that was.

"Okay, let's get down to business. You need me."

He just nodded, trying to hide how unhappy he felt about that.

"So what's the deal? She's off the table anyway. I think she never was an option."

"Nah, she wasn't."

I looked over to Felicia. She couldn't decide if she should be relieved or insulted.

"So you want me, the living hand grenade, but you're afraid I'm going to go off in your hand?"

"I don't have much of a choice, do I? You see..."

I would have loved to hear his explanation, unfortunately, we were interrupted by a shot, after which his goon's brain left his head sideways. I knew standing in that window was a bad idea.

Clint lost his cool completely now.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." His voice was even more high pitched now, and I couldn't help thinking he and Traci might be a dream couple.

Time generally seemed to change again. Everything seemed more intense, more detailed again. Crisper. I knew the feeling by then. It was I who was changing, not the world around me. My brain processed more things per second. I saw things, heard things, smelled things and assessed them.

While the nameless goon finished following Newton's laws of gravity, I started to notice smells again with that strange intensity. Felicia's pleasant smell was overlayed by Clint's intense fear. That guy was no slouch, so whatever opponent he was facing must be terrifying.

"Fuck," he added, just in case we had misheard him the first time.

He moved behind me, and I knew he'd either kill me or free me. Killing me wouldn't help him at all, freeing me might add an element of chaos he could use. Felicia looked at us, calm as a desert morning. I wondered if she had entered a similar mental zone.

I felt my zip ties fall away. I heard footsteps near the entrance and knew I had to distract whoever was coming, to protect Feli. I jumped forwards, towards the dead window guy. From the corner of my eye, I saw Felicia running towards the little offices at the back. Smart girl, having to watch over her would just distract me. I heard Clint running out of the room in a different direction.

I jumped towards the dead guy and was sliding to the floor when I felt bullets hissing right above me. I slid to a stop under the window, and I felt him jerking as the bullets hit him. As soon as the shooting stopped, I ran for the office where Felicia was hiding. As soon as I reached it, I looked back.

It seemed the new guy wasn't distracted by my move very long and had decided to follow Clint instead of us. We heard a few shots, then Clint reentered, wounded, followed by the new guy, pointing an absurdly oversized gun at him. It was clearly meant to intimidate, and it worked fine.

The man himself was just as impressive. He must have been very good looking at one point, and in a battle-scarred way, he still was. This guy had clearly seen everything, and survived it. He was huge and oozed cruelty and danger. Seeing him was disheartening.

"Listen, Ricardo," we heard Clint starting to bargain for his life. His high, whiny voice didn't lend him credibility. "I have no idea where the damn money is. Edward had it..."

He was interrupted by Ricardo's fist connecting with his face for what I felt would be the first time of many.

"Where is the money, Clint?" he asked politely, as if he hadn't heard him.

Surprisingly, Clint laughed. "I'm dead anyway, so..."

"Not necessarily. I'll let you live if you tell me. Promise."

Clint looked a bit skeptical, as I would have in his situation. He sighed, obviously not seeing another option.

"Okay, I'll have to trust you. Look in the garbage bin in the courtyard..." and he was rudely interrupted by a bullet entering his head. I wasn't surprised, but somehow, I still felt bad for him. In his own way, I had liked him.

"Money?" Felicia whispered.

"Let's try to stay alive first and worry about spending some later, okay?"

"Good plan," she said, just as she accidentally knocked over some piece of junk. "Shit," she added.

"Come out, whoever you are!" Ricardo shouted, obviously just having been reminded of our presence.

"Fuck," Felicia whispered, un-ladylike but clearly sincere. I chuckled and gave her a kiss.

"Let's make a run out the back door," she said. "If all goes wrong, let's meet in another life."

Problem was, there was no back door, so the plan was pure wishful thinking. We would have to get past Ricardo, which was clearly impossible. Or at least highly unlikely.

"Deal," I agreed.

Suddenly, Felicia stepped out of our hiding place, obviously trying to save me. Ricardo stared at her and looked as if he was struck by lightning.

"Who... who are you?" he stuttered awkwardly. I knew her effect on men only too well, but this was an extreme case.

"I'm Felicia," she just calmly stated and probably gave him her killer smile. I was behind her, so I couldn't tell, but I could see his face and I knew he was toast.

"Ricardo," he introduced himself unnecessarily. "Come with me. This is no place for a beautiful lady."

That was the last thing I wanted. I knew Felicia thought she could rely on me. Problem was, she saw me as some kind of super gunfighter, and at that point, as the rush of the last fight had worn off, I just felt like the typical average guy again, a damned accountant hiding behind a corner while the love of his life was walked out of his life by the villain.

I watched them leave the room and felt utterly helpless. I didn't even have a gun. Clint's corpse, lying in a pool of his own blood, painfully reminded me that this Ricardo guy was dangerous as hell. Clint had been some kind of boss, but he clearly was no competition for Ricardo.

Still, the love of my life was in danger and she clearly counted on me. I had to do something, and cowering in a dilapidated office might not have been what she had in mind. I remembered the dead guy next to the window, who had graciously allowed me to use his body to stop the bullets. Clint had returned without a weapon, but Dead Window Guy definitely had one.

I quickly found what I needed. Unlike the revolver in the store, the smallish, black, modern-looking thing didn't cause a deja vu feeling, but I hoped it would do the job. I ran into the courtyard, just as they were about to reach his car.

"Hey!" I shouted, which was not overly original, but all I could think of.

Surprised, he turned around, loosening his grip on Felicia. She used that opportunity to jump towards his car and hide behind it. His gaze followed her briefly, and he looked mildly disgruntled. He obviously decided to deal with her later and focused on me again.

His right hand held his preposterously oversized weapon. His arm seemed relaxed, the gun pointing downwards, just like my considerably less impressive gun was.

He looked me in the eyes for a few seconds, then he glanced in Felicia's direction and started to smile. Again, I noticed he had been an attractive man once, but years of malice and fighting had changed him.

For some reason, I was not afraid anymore. I wasn't even nervous. That alone should have scared me, but it didn't. The sun was searing. The hot wind was blowing clouds of dust around. I smelled no fear from my opponent this time. I was looking at an evil man, and I knew only one of us would be alive in a few minutes. Still, I felt at ease. This was a situation I could deal with.

He grinned. The situation clearly was as familiar to him as it felt to me. I saw the slightest twitch in his eye, and a tiny movement in his shoulder, then his right arm began to lift deliberately toward me. I saw a bird behind him take to the air, and heard Feli gasp from behind his car.

His gun was huge and impressive, but it was not ideal for a classic duel like this. Mine was much lighter and already aimed at his heart before his arm made it half way up. All my gun had to do now was fire and all I had to do was hit. I pulled the trigger twice. It did, and I did.

The little modern gun wasn't as accurate as the shop owner's "Wally" revolver, but it was plenty accurate to deal with Ricardo.

Felicia's shriek was almost in a class with Traci's. I briefly wondered if they had been practicing together. I heard running feet, then I was just as flat on the ground as Ricardo was, but I was being smothered with kisses and he wasn't. To the victor the spoils, I guess. It didn't seem quite real, but I just relaxed and enjoyed, anyway.

Reality intruded. I think it had something to do with the pebbles from the courtyard poking dents in us. We were just an accountant and a dance instructor again, confused and unsure what to do. We took stock of our situation. There was a building with a few dead gang members, quite a few guns and Ricardo's car. The van we had been brought in was still there, but parts of the driver had been distributed on the inside of the windscreen, and we had no urge to use it. I, being the man, took action immediately by looking around without a clue.

Felicia went to Ricardo's corpse and stared at him calmly.

"I think I know him somehow."

That surprised me.

"Really? You hang around thugs like him a lot? Do they come in for dancing lessons?"

"What? No. I mean, like in a dream... I can't describe it."

"Yeah, I felt it too, Feli. Like I knew him, but it wasn't him. Just someone very similar."

"Exactly! I'm sure he felt the same when he saw me. His reaction was just too strong. Well, whatever, he's dead and we aren't."

"Which is quite fortunate. I mean, with us having our lives together ahead of us."

"You bet, Mister. Still, I think something needs to be done before we ride off into the sunset. This Ricardo guy wanted to get something out of a garbage bin here in the courtyard. It doesn't take a genius to conclude it must be the money Clint talked about. I think it would come in quite handy, don't you think? You seem to be unemployed, mostly because of me. My job pays peanuts."

"Okay, you might have a point there. Let's take a look, but make it quick. I'm afraid someone will come looking for them." That's what I seemed to remember from movies, anyway, and I could just imagine what those El Paso cops would have to say if they found me with yet another batch of dead thugs. Neither consequence seemed desirable to me.

"I'm not worried, I have Mr. Gunslinger to protect me."

I grinned uncomfortably, as I didn't feel like a hero anymore. I felt weak and vulnerable, as I always did when the rush of the fight wore off, but the smile she gave me told me in no uncertain terms that I would always be her hero. I could live with that.

"Look what we have here, my love," she exclaimed, while I was still contemplating things.

Right after the wedding, Feli bought Rosa's dancing school, as she wanted to retire anyway. It didn't make much of a dent in our savings. I never went back to work as an accountant, but I finally learned how to ride a horse, how to dance and how to enjoy life.