Lauren Starr's Last Stand Ch. 02

A cloud of dust and dirt and hay whooshed over her, enveloping everything as Starr uttered a cry of infinite frustration.

*

It was her, Cross thought. It was really her. He'd seen her face, and she'd seen his, and she'd tried to kill him. Now he was sure of everything, and an electric thrill triggered through his veins.

"Ho there! Halt," a voice came from the entrance of the barn. Cross made out the form of Sheriff Markus and the white-haired stable idiot. He licked his lips, thinking his cover in town was officially blown. The heat would come down swift and heedless, burning everything he'd earned in its wake. In other words, time for Christian Cross to leave Blue Oaks with a not-so-fond farewell.

Cross swirled through the cloud of dust and dashed out the side door.

*

Starr fought her way through, coughing and clawing her way past the suffocating cloud. Her stomach smacked against the bottom of a window, and she pushed it open and collapsed through to the other side, her breaths gulping in the unpolluted air with a rare greed, the side of her face splashing into a soggy puddle of mud.

"Hey, hey! Miss, you ok?"

Starr peeked open one eye and saw the skinny, old man with the crazy white hair standing above her. He reached out a feeble, trembling arm to help her up out of the mud. She didn't take it for fear that his arm might break off if she allowed him the chance to pull any weight against it.

"Where is he?" Lauren said, getting to her knees. Filth covered her. A film of dust and dirt had turned her into a tan ghost.

"Who?"

"Cross," Starr said and barked a ragged cough.

"He's gone," a tall, mustached man said, walking over to them. The man bore a silver star on his chest. The star twinkled in the sunlight. Starr recognized the sheriff and hoped he didn't plan to arrest her. For his sake.

"So close," Lauren whispered to herself. Then louder: "We have to find him." She struggled to her feet, picking up her pistols and clutching them so tight that her knuckles turned pasty white.

"We will, ma'am. Don't you worry about that. I'm going to round up some men. He can't have gone far. We'll get him wherever he goes," the man said, brushing his mustache with two fingers.

Starr wasn't so sure.

***

Cross snatched the little belongings he had from Loretta's room while she watched on with haunted eyes.

"Where will you go?" she tried. Cross shook his head.

"Away. Every bounty hunter and lawman with a thirst for fame or justice will descend upon this town like the fucking Bubonic plague," he said.

Loretta wanted to ask him what Boob-tonic plague was, but she held her tongue. She knew better than to interrupt, and she had more important questions on her mind.

"Gotta go and keep going until it dies down," he said, checking his guns and shoving them into the holsters at his sides.

Loretta said, "I'm coming with you."

Cross opened his mouth to refuse, looked at her with a searching gaze, and replied, "Get your things. You've got five minutes."

Dooley shuffled his feet at the entrance to the room, nursing his sore testicles with one hand. The bandage on his ear dripped blood. It fell to the floor with a tiny plop. Dooley just loved a good near-death experience to get the juices flowing, and they could always use a whore wherever they might be going.

Dooley figured it was straight to hell.