Justice Ch. 04: Old Scores

...

That night, Danni called and told me what happened.

"So, they want to see a copy of Grandma Lizzy's journal?" I asked. "Really?"

"Yes," she said.

"Do you really think that's the house they lived in?" I asked.

"I do," she said. "Everything seems to fit."

"Well, if it'll help, I guess so," I said. "I already have all her journals scanned and saved as PDF files. I also have some photos I've scanned. I can email them to you and you can give them a copy."

"That's a great idea," Danni said. "That way, we won't have to mess with mailing them and it'll be a lot quicker. Yes, please email them to me and I'll get a copy over to them tomorrow.

"Okay," I told her. "Consider it done. Wanna talk to the kids?"

"Sure," she said. After talking with the two youngsters, she spoke with me one last time.

"I miss you, sweetheart," she said.

"I miss you too," I told her.

"Love you," she said.

"Bet I love you more," I told her. We ended the call and I headed for the office. After I emailed all the files to Danni, I turned back to the children. As I started to get them ready for bed, there was a knock at the door.

...

The man looked at himself in the long mirror and smiled. It had been seven days since he climbed up from the well at the old Jones place and he noticed that his corporeal form was finally beginning to take shape and solidify, just as his boss/benefactor said. It still wasn't perfect, but it was good enough for what he had in mind that night.

According to the being who sent him back, he needed something called "Eye Dee" and modern money. He was told where to go for that, so he decided to make a visit. Because he was still in flux, he was able to move through solid objects at will, the same way he came up through the ground. He looked out the window of the old abandoned warehouse where he was hiding and looked at the lights of the town outside.

Hard Rock had changed a lot since he was here last. The place had grown considerably. The streets were paved and people moved around in strange-looking carriages that moved without the benefit of a horse. In fact, he had yet to see an actual horse since he got here. They even had big metal birds that flew through the sky. What kind of a place is this, he wondered.

He had spent the last few nights prowling around, hiding in the shadows so as not to be seen by the locals. He observed the people walking around, shocked at how little clothing women wore these days. They might as well be naked, he thought. He looked in the stores and browsed all the items that were available for purchase. They had nothing like this when he was alive. And people seemed to be much better off as well.

There was very little of the town he remembered. The old saloon where he was shot was gone, as were almost all of the other buildings. If he looked hard enough, he could see a reminder here and there, but otherwise, nothing here was the way it used to be.

Once upon a time, he had dreamed of owning this town and all the land around it. But those dreams were shattered when Eli put a bullet in his chest so long ago. Damn him, he thought. He remembered his promise when it happened, and now it was going to be fulfilled.

His benefactor was also interested in seeing Eli pay, but for a different reason. Nowadays, Eli called himself, "Justice O. Peace" and generally made a nuisance of himself, repeatedly stymieing the being's efforts. He had good reason to be upset with Eli, but the reason didn't really matter. All that he was concerned about was putting the man down, once and for all. And if necessary, his progeny.

But he had other priorities at the moment, namely, food, drink and pussy, and not necessarily in that order. Of course, he didn't really NEED the food or drink, but he wanted them, since it had been so long since he had tasted a thick juicy steak and a glass of whiskey. He also missed sinking his meat into a nice warm pussy.

He was told that he would be very well equipped for that, and he looked down at himself. Sure enough, his manhood, even though not completely formed, was much larger and thicker than most men, and certainly much bigger than he remembered.

Now that it was dark enough, he closed his eyes and willed himself to his destination. He opened his eyes and looked around. There he was, the man who would give him his Eye Dee and whatever else he would need to pass for a local in this modern version of Hard Rock. He cleared his throat to get the man's attention.

"Geez, you scared the shit outta me," the man said when he turned around. "Dontcha know how to knock?" His tone changed as he looked at the being before him. "Oh my God, it's you," he said. "What happened to you? Did you get burned or something?"

"Don't worry about me and don't ever use that name around me," the man said. "Are you Johnson?"

"Yeah, that's me," Johnson said.

"You have what I need?" The frightened man nodded his head and went to his desk.

"Right here," he said. His hands shook as he held out the small packet. The man took the packet and looked through it. There was a wallet with something called a driver's license and it was full of crisp $100 bills.

"Where's the Eye Dee?" he asked. Johnson pointed to the license, frightened.

"That's it," he said. "Your ID -- identification. Your driver's license. You'll need that to do pretty much anything these days. It's already got a picture and everything." The man looked at the license and saw it was inscribed with his old name -- Jackson Abercrombie. It even had a picture that could pass for him. Good, he thought.

"What about clothes?" the man asked.

"Right over here," Johnson said, walking to a rack filled with men's clothing. "I went by the instructions in the email I got. Take whatever you want. There's shoes, boots and socks if you want them. You'll blend in perfectly, trust me."

The man went to the rack and browsed through the clothing. He selected a pair of denim jeans and a plain long-sleeve shirt. He put on a pair of socks and slipped his feet into a pair of black cowboy boots. He couldn't help but notice how much better they felt -- clean and soft, not hard and scratchy the way his old clothes felt. He looked at himself in the mirror and liked what he saw.

"You got a hat?" he asked.

"Yeah, right here," Johnson said, handing him a black Stetson. The man nodded in approval and placed it on his head.

"Very nice," he said as he looked at himself again. He turned to Johnson. "Tell me, where's the best place in town for steak and women?"

"Well, there's a bar and grill over on Main, called 'The Joint,'" Johnson said. "Food is great, and the women, well, they're to die for."

"Never saw a woman I'd die for," the man said. "I usually make other men die for their women. These women, do they like sex?"

"Oh hell yeah," Johnson said.

"They married?" the man asked. "I prefer married women."

"A lot of 'em are, yeah," Johnson said. "They usually go there to get laid."

"Sounds like my kind of women," the man said. He looked around Johnson's place and was impressed. It was certainly a lot more comfortable than that old warehouse and probably even had a real bed. "Tell me, do you live here alone?" Johnson nervously nodded his head.

"Yeah," he said. "So, when do I get paid? I was told you'd take care of that."

"And you were told right," the man said. "Why don't we settle up right now?"

"That would be terrific," Johnson said. "I could really use the cash." The man smiled as best as he could, then approached Johnson.

"I bet you could," he hissed. He reached out and took Johnson's head in his hands. Johnson's eyes grew wide as the strange man began to crush his head. "Don't worry, you won't need cash where you're going," the man said as he squeezed harder.

The man wasn't just crushing Johnson's head -- he was sucking everything he could from Johnson -- memories, knowledge and yes, his life essence. Suddenly, Johnson's now-emaciated body was wrapped in a strange red glow and the man could hear him scream, even after he had disappeared in a brilliant red flash. Johnson's clothes fell to the floor in a heap.

After absorbing what Johnson had to offer, the man realized he had a set of new memories, and new knowledge to go with it. He rifled through Johnson's pants and grabbed his wallet and his keys. There was a nice wad of cash in the wallet, along with a couple of cards, which he slipped in his pocket. He looked around what he now knew was called a "condo."

As he looked, he realized that he knew what every appliance was and how to use it. He also realized there was something called a "computer" in Johnson's office. He knew how to use it, and even knew all of Johnson's passwords. He went into Johnson's bank account and saw he had over $100,000 sitting there. Damn, he thought. These people are fucking RICH! He looked at the credit card in his pocket. Time to celebrate, he thought to himself.

He looked at himself in the mirror and noticed that his body was solidifying quickly now. Out of curiosity, he lowered his jeans and saw that his manhood was also completely formed. It was also huge, just as his benefactor promised. Flaccid, it had to be at least eight inches long.

Digging deeper in Johnson's memories, he noticed something else. The man liked to watch naked women on his computer. He went to one of the websites in Johnson's memories and was shocked at all the choices available to him. His enlarged penis grew painfully hard as he watched several movies. It seemed these women were willing to do just about anything, anywhere, he thought. Yes, it's time to celebrate, he thought.

He left the condo and went to the garage, where he saw Johnson's car, something called a "Camaro." Using his new-found knowledge, he opened the door and slid inside. He got the car started and managed to back it out without destroying anything. He found rather quickly that having the knowledge to drive this thing and actually doing it were two different things. Everything felt so strange, and he hadn't quite developed the coordination required to operate something like this.

After a few abortive starts and some test runs in the parking lot, he finally figured out how to make the thing work and headed for The Joint.

...

I went to the door and looked through the peephole to see who had knocked. It was my Grandpa Elijah, so I opened the door and invited him inside.

"You don't have to knock," I said. "My house is your house."

"I know, just like to be polite," he said. "Thought I might come by and spend some time with my two favorite grandkids," he added, looking at the two youngsters.

"Wait a minute," I said, smiling. "I thought I was your favorite."

"You are, but they're my favorite great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandkids," he said, ticking off the nine "greats" with his fingers.

"Well, that's different," I said, laughing. He played with the kids until they were about to drop from exhaustion, then helped me put them to bed. They fell asleep the second their heads hit the pillow. Grandpa smiled and kissed them on the forehead, telling them he loved them. We went back downstairs, grabbed a beer and went out back for a smoke.

"I hear Danni's in Hard Rock," he said, taking a drag off his cigarette.

"Yeah, she's doing something for the governor's historical site commission," I said. "Didn't you used to live there once upon a time?"

"Yeah, once, a long time ago," Eli said. "How long is she planning to be there?"

"Maybe a couple days, I don't know. Why?" I asked.

"Oh, just wondering," he said.

"C'mon, Grandpa, there's more to it than that, isn't there?" I asked, concerned.

"'Fraid so, son," he said. "We may have a problem there."

"Well, she did say she thinks the place she's checking out was the house you used to live in," I said. "Does it have something to do with that?"

"It could," Grandpa said. "Let me tell ya a little story. I think it was in 1855. There wasn't much to Hard Rock back in those days. We lived about seven miles outside town. Took the better part of the day just to go in, stock up and get back home. I was out tending to the herd one day. A piece of crap named Jack Abercrombie came by with two of his boys. They'd been pressuring my folks to sell the place. Jack was what the southerners would later call a carpetbagger. Came from New York with delusions of power and thought he could buy everyone out.

"He did manage to swindle a few people out of their homes, but after a while folks started standing up to him. So he upped the ante. That day, he came and threatened my folks. Pa told him to go to hell. He left, but then he saw Lizzy out in the garden. His boys grabbed her. She screamed when they took her and my younger brother William ran out to stop them.

"They shot him in the leg and took off. Bullet went clean through him. He never walked right after that. Anyway, I heard the shot and came running. By the time I got there, Travis and my parents had gotten Bill back into the house and were tending to his wound. I saddled up, jumped on my horse and took off after 'em. I followed their tracks and realized they were heading to town.

"They already had a pretty good head start on me, maybe an hour, but I had a pretty good idea where they were going. I figured they'd head for the saloon, and sure enough, that's where they were. I went in and saw my dear sweet Lizzy, tied up and dressed like a damn dancing girl. Jack said she was going to be their entertainment.

"I lost it. I pulled my pistol and shot them fellers, just like you did with that Roscoe guy and his two thugs, remember?" I remembered all too well.

"Yeah, I remember," I said.

"I'll never forget it," Grandpa said. "He was laying on the floor, bleeding. Blood was coming out of his mouth and his chest. He looked up and me and said it wasn't over. Said he'd crawl up out of the pit of Hell and damnation itself to get back at me. Of course, I didn't believe him at the time.

"That was the first time I ever killed a man. I'll never forget it. I felt like I had no choice, though. They had my wife and woulda done God-knows-what to her if I hadn't stepped in and done something," he said. "Little did I know that five years later, I'd be fighting a war."

"And you think this Jack fella has actually come back?" I asked. He nodded his head.

"I think so," he said. "I never woulda believed it was possible, but I've seen way too much since then. Believe me, son, anything's possible."

"I know that," I said. "But how could he have done that? Couldn't you have been warned? Couldn't they let you know? I've seen it happen before, right here."

"Well, son, ya gotta remember there's two sides in the grand scheme of things," Grandpa said. "And I've made quite a few enemies doing what I do. Some of 'em are pretty eager to get back at me. I reckon there's a lot of old scores to settle. And you have to remember there's a whole different set of rules at play here, what you might call dynamics. It's too complicated to get into right now."

"So, what are ya gonna do?" I asked.

"I need to get to Hard Rock," he said. "Take a look around, see what I can see. I've met the sheriff there and he seems like a good fella. I'll need to talk to him."

"Maybe I should go with you," I said. "Especially if Danni's in danger." He shook his head.

"No, son," he said. "The best thing you can do is stay here and look out for yer young'uns. Believe me, if what I think happened has happened, there's nothing you or yer Winchester can do. I gotta take care of this myself."

"Maybe I should call Danni and let her know," I said.

"That might be wise, son," he said. "Careful what you tell her, though. I want her to keep an eye out, but I don't want her jumping at shadows. It may be nothing, but then again..."

"True," I said. "Plus, she's with that Sheriff Caldwell."

"That's even better," Grandpa said. "Besides, I don't think anything will happen tonight. Maybe I can speak to both of 'em at the same time." We finished our beer and our smokes and stood up. "Don't worry, son," he said. "I'll look after Danni."

"Thanks, Grandpa," I said. He looked at me for a minute and gave me a manly hug before he left. I sat back down and looked at the time. I knew Danni would probably be asleep, so I sent a text message asking her to call me first thing in the morning before she did anything else. I checked on the kids and headed to bed.

...

Jack Abercrombie, or rather, the reconstituted creature known as Jack Abercrombie, sat at his table in the restaurant of The Joint, enjoying his T-bone steak. It melted in his mouth and he savored every bite. The cold beer he had with it was also good, much better than the swill Jake used to serve in the old tavern. And he didn't even need to suck on a piece of hard mint candy.

When he finished his meal, he paid the bill, shocked at how much they charged, and headed into the bar. The area was packed with people, drinking, dancing and having a generally good time. He ogled the women and took note of their skimpy attire.

The place also had a small stage where three women were dancing topless. All they wore were tiny strings around their waists with a bit of cloth that barely covered their crotches. Things sure have changed over the last 165 years, he thought to himself. He sidled up to the bar and took a seat.

"What'll you have?" a young bartender asked.

"Whiskey," Jack said. The young man looked at him for a minute before saying anything.

"Uh, what kind of whiskey?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Jack asked in response.

"We have all of the most popular brands," the bartender said. "Take your pick."

"I don't know," Jack said. "What do you like?"

"I like 'em all," the youngster said. "But my personal favorite is Maker's Mark. Would you like to try that?"

"Uh, yeah, sure, I reckon," Jack said. The bartender poured some into a small shot glass and placed it on the bar in front of Jack.

"That'll be $5.50, please," the bartender said. Jack was stunned. Five and a half bucks for a tiny shot of whiskey? The last time he bought a shot in Jake's bar, he only paid 12 cents. No wonder people were so rich these days, he thought. They had to be if they wanted to buy anything. He pulled out $6.00 and placed it on the bar.

"Keep the change," Jack said. "How much for the whole bottle?"

"Sorry, pal, we don't sell by the bottle," the bartender said. "Shots and mixed drinks only. A mixed drink will cost ya $8.50. If you want a bottle, you'll have to go to the liquor store, and they usually charge about $35.00 or so, depending on what you get."

"Okay," Jack said, disgusted. He couldn't believe what he just heard. He took a tiny sip of his whiskey and felt the familiar burn. He had to admit, this stuff had a much different flavor and was much smoother than the rotgut Jake used to pour.

He looked to his right just as a very attractive brunette in the skimpiest dress he had ever seen walked up to the bar, a few feet from him. He checked her out from top to bottom. Her hair was long and wavy and the top of her dress was little more than two pieces of cloth that came up over her breasts and joined at the back of her neck, exposing her cleavage almost to her navel. Her back was completely bare and it was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra. The bottom of the dress fell a couple inches below her ass and was slit up one side almost to her waist.

She looked at him and smiled as she checked him out. He was surprised at the way she openly stared at the bulge in his crotch.

"Hello there, cowboy," she said in a sultry voice.

"Well hello there yourself, pretty lady," he responded. He wondered what guys said these days when they wanted to pick up a woman. He searched through Johnson's memories and recalled some of the videos he watched earlier. "Say, you wanna... fuck?" he asked. She laughed, her face blushing at his candor.