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Here's another short story that follows Dr. Jones in Taxtin County.
I decided to break it up into four, more digestible parts, since it's a total word count of 5870.
Contains scenes of violence and strong language. Not for sensitive viewers.
Part 1 of 4
As Dr. Jones got closer to the bridge heading into Orlandria, the wretched stench grew stronger. This wasn’t just a physical smell, but rather something far more sinister. It reminded him about a time, not that long ago when he rid the county of Shadow Demons, led by a Prowler. It came at a cost though, as it always does. Major Brown had lost his life in that battle. As hard as he tried, Dr. Jones couldn’t help but feel as if there was something more he could do.
‘I told him to be completely honest, yet he wasn’t. I did everything I could.’
As reassuring as the thought should be, it wasn’t. He was used to losing parts of himself, however, he could never get used to the loss of others’ lives. The battle for Taxtin County certainly took its toll on him. As for the Prowler, it simply disappeared, which bothered him even more.
The hooves of the horse gently clacked against the dusty road, and an occasional squeak rang out from the wheels of his wagon.
‘I need to oil those damn wheels when I get there.’
As Dr. Jones passed another bend in the road, he noticed the bridge up ahead. He’d been to Orlandria before. This time, it looked very different.
“Hmmm,” he thought out loud.
When he was there 3 years ago, he remembered how beautifully welcoming it appeared. There were children about, already running next to the very cart he was towing. Brush filled with flowers arched across the bridge, filling the air with a sweet, honey and lemon aroma.
Aside from the Forrest leading towards the town, the rest looked barren and worn.
“Whoah!” he yelled at the horse, as they came to a stop just before the bridge.
The town was surrounded by water. They split the river running through it into three parts. One branched left, the other right, and met up with the main river back at the bottom. The surrounding moat provided protection against trespassers. The likes of bandit groups roaming the lands.
As he looked at the rancid-smelling water, it was clear that this had been used to dump all sorts of waste. Human excrement, dead animals, and all sorts of decomposing elements floated in the water.
This wasn’t his immediate concern though. Dr. Jones investigated the bridge. Some of the wooden slats appeared to be rotting, as he walked along and tested them with his feet. It seemed as if it may hold up. Luckily, his wagon was relatively small. Just big enough for him to sleep in with all his equipment to the side.
He slowly led his horse across, as the bridge croaked under the weight. When he reached the midway point, one of the slats cracked. His horse neighed and shook its head.
“Whoah, easy girl. Easy,” he said, soothing the mare while gently rubbing her nose.
“Come now, I’ve got you.”
They slowly managed the rest of the way.
“There, I told you we’ll be okay.”
They stood by the bridge, as Dr. Jones looked about the town. It’s similarly fashioned to the river and the moats, just at a 90° angle to it. Buildings were running straight down the center, with others arching along the sides in an oval shape. The usual bustling and bright flowered streets were empty and barren.
Occasionally, someone would peek through the curtains of their window, however, quickly drew them closed when he looked in their direction.
“Right, let’s go find the saloon.”
They made their way around the right side. If the saloon was still where it used to be, they’ll find it a few buildings down.
Even though he carried his cowboy hat low down on his forehead, Dr. Jones was observing everything.
‘A man stepping onto his porch with a rifle.’
‘A woman scurrying away at the sight of him.’
‘The smell of rotting flesh down the alley.’
‘The curious eyes of two children peering around a building.’
He came to a stop in front of the saloon. The sign looked ragged and dusty, with a part of the name missing.
‘Bil Saloon. That should be Bill’s.’
As he tied his horse to a post, a few men started making their way to them.
‘I’m not in the mood for this now.’
Dr. Jones headed into the saloon. Aside from one man laying with his head on a round table, it appeared empty. He decided to grab a seat at the end of the bar, allowing him to keep an eye on the entrance.
There were a few men gathered outside, and he could hear their muffled debates about whether they should go inside or wait for him to come back out.
It didn’t take long before the barkeep made an appearance as he emerged from the back. He was quite young for a barkeep, however, his appearance came across as tired and worn out.
The energy he spoke with surprised Dr. Jones. After everything he’d experienced in this world, there wasn’t much that still surprised him.
“Good day Sir. I see you’ve caused quite the commotion outside. I just wished they’d come in and spend some coin.”
“It appears as though you don’t get many visitors around here anymore?”
“That be true Sir. So, you’ve been here before then?”
“Many years ago. What happened to the old man that used to work here?”
The young man sighed.
“He passed a few years back. Just as well, you know. With everything that’s been going on here lately. It’s like he knew what was going to happen and left before this –“ the young man was interrupted when the swinging doors flung open, almost unhinging them with the force.
A big, burly man stepped in, followed by four others.
“Oh, come now, Billy. You almost broke the doors from them hinges.”
“Shut up John! We’re not here for you. I want to know what that stranger’s doing lurking around here?”
Dr. Jones ignored the bombastic rambling.
“Do you have any cold ale, John?”
“Uhm, yes, sure. Just gimme a second,” John said, as he headed to the back.
“Mr. You think you being a smartass? I asked you what you’re doing here?”
“I’m sorry, Billy. You didn’t ask me what I’m doing here. You spoke with John.”
Dr. Jones removed his cowboy hat and placed it on his lap.
“This guy does think he’s a smartass, ain’t he?” Billy said, as he looked left and right at his companions.
They all muttered and shook their heads in agreement. He took a few more steps towards the doctor, then pulled out his revolver, pointing it squarely at his head.
“I’m not here to fight with your town folk. I’m here to help.”
Right at that moment, John came out the back with a cold ale, almost spilling it when he saw what was going on.
“Come on Billy. What ‘ya doing?”
“Just stay out of –“ a loud bang and a sharp pain disrupted Billy, as the gun twisted in the opposite direction, snapping his index finger, before falling to the floor.
Dr. Jones stood there, with his revolver still smoking at the barrel, and another pointed toward the group.
Billy grabbed his hand, shouting, “You shot my hand.”
“No, I shot your gun. As I said, I’m not here to make trouble, I’m here to help.”
With that, Billy turned on his heels and headed for the door. The rest of the party quickly hurried away, weary of this strange shooter.
“Who are you, mister?”
“My name is Dr. Jones. Can I have that ale now?”
John put the ale down on the counter, “You mean, the Dr. Jones? The one that, you know, fights with them demons and stuff.”
“Yes.”
Dr. Jones took a big swig of the cold brew before wiping his mustache.
“I’m looking for a man who goes by the name of Anthony. He said you’ll know who he is.”
“Well yes. Anthony was a good friend of mine. Used to come here all the time, ya know. Until things started, well, going wrong.”
“Where can I find him?”
“He works at the mansion on Caldero street. Never comes out there anymore. I’m tryna think what it’s called. Uhm, right. Lord’s Retreat.”
“Thank you,” Dr. Jones said as he took another big swig, then abruptly got up. He flipped a coin to John, then walked off.
“This is too much,” John called.
Dr. Jones stopped and turned his head to the side, “Do you know where I can get oil for my cart?”
“Well, yes. There’s a store further down called Ricky’s Emporium.”
“Thank you,” he said, as he proceeded out the door.
