Joe took up a fighting stance, fists loosely clenched and ready for fluid responses. The men started to run at him. He counted ten, with more appearing from the dust. Joe pulled more from his cigarillo, his focus intensifying by the moment. A wolfish grin crossed his face as they closed in, he had been waiting for the chance to demonstrate Six-Gun pugilism.

  The first of the Yellowmen reached him, making a wide right swing with a knife. Joe could see all, as if in slow motion. The Critical Moment rang in his head. He gripped the cultist’s arm and twisted, striking with his other hand. Bone snapped underneath his careful, precise blow. He tossed the cultist away to the dust, prepared for the next swing. Dipping aside to dodge a downward crushing blow from a rusty monkey wrench, he slammed his elbow into the attacker’s shoulder, snapping it out of place. Joe followed up with a smashing right hook to his face and the man crumpled.

  Six-Gun hand-to-hand martial arts primarily revolved around pugilism, fist fighting. The fist, properly guided with Resolve, was as strong a weapon as any club or cane. Precise footwork was equally important, and both were taught to all Six-Guns in their youth. There were times when the pistol was not optimal. Other more complicated forms of martial arts were practiced by the Posse, particularly at higher levels. Bodily discipline went hand in hand with control over one’s Resolve. However most Six-Guns could only grapple and box, or fight with knives. Joe was at a level where he was beginning to master his pugilism, and he was itching to let it loose.

  The onslaught continued as the cultists came at Joe in greater numbers. Critical Moments flew through his mind and he acted accordingly. In the wind and the dust, Tornado Joe ducked and weaved through attacks, returning with punishing blows left and right. He left behind him a wake of shattered bones and broken spirits. These corrupted men stood no chance against a proper Six-Gun, whether he pulled his pistol or not.

  In the church, Louey had formed a different hand-sign than the Rite of Release common among Six-Guns. He held his left-hand palm out, ring and middle finger curled downwards, with his thumb tucked. His right hand gripped his wrist. This was the Rite activating remote-sight via his connection to his Familiar. It let him see through the eyes of the Peregrine Falcon he sent after Tyler, and issue suggestive thoughts to the Familiar silently. Louey remained knelt in the church with his eyes closed, focusing on the search for Tyler.

  Chalky’s eyes lit up blue as Louey looked through them. Through the dust, he could see the weak and fearful green energy of the child, being carried away by one of the Yellowmen. Chalky was ordered to dive and the Peregrine Falcon began its iconic stoop. Reaching an incredible speed, it dove towards the cultist.

  As the cultist moved, he felt his ear take a blow. Chalky was like a bullet, tearing the entire ear from the side of the Yellowman’s head. He wailed and dropped Tyler. Chalky came around for another stoop, this time swiping the man’s throat. Chunks of flesh flew from him, spurts of blood following. The cultist fell over, bleeding on the grey dusty road.

  Little Tyler fell down. His energy remained fearful of the monsters and the Yellowmen obscured in the dust storm. More of the cultists ran at the boy, intent on seeing their designs through. Chalky landed atop his knee and let out a screech.

  Joe, still fending off the attackers, back stepped to give himself the breathing room he needed to track the screech. He could tell it was one of Lou’s Familiars, there was no way any natural bird would find itself on the edge of a dust storm. A Critical Moment interrupted his thoughts and he gripped an incoming baseball bat, countering with a powerful right hook to the cultist’s jaw. Joe ran off in the direction of Chalky’s call.

  The storm was upon Joe as he rushed to find the boy. He couldn’t see a thing with his eyes, but he could tell through his Resolve that more of the cultists were coming at him through the dust. He figured they must have received some supernatural guidance. It was time to get serious, Joe thought, no more playing around with these lost men. They had made their choice.

  Joe swiped the pistol from his hip and fired at the magical signature nearest to him. The bullet ripped through the wind and tore the cultist open. Follow up shots killed two more coming at him, Joe’s aim unfaltering. Dead men lay around the crying child. Chalky disappeared in a puff of smoke as Joe reached him.

  “I got you, kid!” Joe shouted through the howling winds.

  The storm left them sensory deprived, with no vision beyond a few feet. The rush of the wind drowned out any other sounds, and the dust carried an earthy smell which covered any other scents in the air. Joe relied on his Resolve to see any other threats. All he saw was Lou approaching quickly. The elder gun found him, eyes fierce.

  “Look alive, Joe! It’s not over. Back-to-back!” He commanded.

  Joe did as he was told, turning around and backing up into Louey’s back. The two stood over Tyler as the winds whipped around them viciously.

  “What’s going on?” Joe shouted back to Lou.

  “It’s Geld. He’s arrived.”

  The thought snapped Joe back into focus. He concentrated on the magical currents around him, studying the flow of energy in the world for any significant disturbances. It emerged, carried on the churning winds. The entity stood in front of Lou, but Joe could still feel its presence, make out its shape. It was humanoid, a very tall man with nothing but denim overalls on. His skin, caked with the brown dust, was covered in yellowed eyeballs. This was an entity of great magical significance, emanating intense tawny energy.

  Lou made out its face, a wide mouth full of jagged teeth below a nest of swirling eyeballs. He was not as concerned as Joe, believing the two of them had the power advantage over it. He was worried about the storm, he felt he could easily lose Tyler in the haze of dirt. He clapped his hands together, breathing out.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  The dust storm was broken by a rather large puff of pure white smoke. A massive barn owl loomed over Lou Cobb, spreading its wings. The brown bird had a wingspan over ten feet, it was the product of careful cultivation over the years. Lou was typically conservative with summoning such a magnificent Familiar, but he wasn’t sure he could beat this creature with Tyler in the way.

  “Go on, Rollo!” Lou barked, “Take him into the bar!”

  The owl snapped into action, scooping Tyler. The boy screamed as the owl swiftly shot over to the nearby building. It wrapped Tyler in its massive wings as it burst through the window. Lou heard the glass shatter.

  “I can just kill him after I kill you two.” Geld grinned, his voice traveling unnaturally through the storm. “It’ll be but a few moments.”

  “Kill him? Don’t you people usually abduct the children?” Lou never blew his shot at some information, “What, are you too scared of that kid to mark him?”

  Geld, struck by the sideways comment, began to cackle. “That is honestly funny! We only mark the ones with any power. Kids like him don’t make their way to the Bastion.”

  ‘The Bastion.’ Lou took a mental note, ‘Kids with power go to the Bastion.’

  “What about men like me?” Lou continued to prod.

  “Men like you get chewed up.” Geld chuckled, “You serve no purpose but disruption. I had this town, all the food I could want. The men, the women, it all belongs to me. You think you can just roll up here in a Taxi and put me down? That’s some decent comedy.”

  “I do, and I wish I could make it slow.” Joe interjected, fed up with the arrogant monster.

  Geld vanished into the winds, appearing right beside Joe’s ear.

  “What was that?”

  He surprised Joe, shaking the Gun’s stance. Lou, who was more experienced in these things, did not spook so easily.

  “I come with the wind.” Geld explained, “I am this world, I’m nature. I’m everywhere.”

  The creature appeared in front of Joe, baiting him to draw. Joe fired in an instant, but it still wasn’t quick enough. The shot tore through only dust. More flickers of Geld shot through the winds, throwing Tornado Joe’s natural calm off. Louey remained still, hand ready to draw.

  The Six-Gun was schooled early on the importance of inaction. True inaction, a clearing of one’s mind to a zero-intent state, gave the Six-Gun a clearer sight of the magical currents. To be like water flowing with them, not an obstacle to their path. Inaction allowed one to be superbly reactive, responding spontaneously and instinctively. The values of inaction and spontaneity were schooled into every Six-Gun as early as possible, but it took years of experience to fully understand these concepts. As skilled as Tornado Joe was, he had yet to embrace inaction like Lou. The older Gun understood this. He was proud of Joe for not shooting at every shadow in this tricky scenario.

  “Easy Joe!” Lou’s words were firm, “Keep your head. He would strike us if he felt he could. He’s not stronger than us. Breathe.”

  Joe tried to center himself again, finding it almost impossible in this storm. The magical currents around him were ever shifting, hard to read. Critical Moments were all over the air, flashing false signs of attack in his mind left and right. With Geld so close, he felt as blind in a Resolute state as he was out of it. A creeping dread mounted in his gut. If he was by himself in this storm, Geld may just have killed him. He was losing his cool. The creature was everywhere at once. Something nicked his face, leaving a red streak to the left of his lip. He tasted his blood.

  “Lou!” His voice almost faltered, “I can’t find the right moment.”

  “It’ll come.”

  Louey’s mind was at work, generating a solution. They had been prepared with the Lotus Rounds, something he was willing to bet Geld was not aware of. Keeping his mind clear of intent, he figured he would take a gamble. Louey lowered his hand, pulling it from the ready posture on his handgun. His shoulder’s slumped. Louey had eased himself into a relaxed stance, completely exposed for attacks.

  “We are the hands of God.” Lou spoke words that had been beaten into Joe, “No weapon formed against us will prosper.”

  Joe’s heartbeat began to come down, feeling the raw power of Lou’s confidence. Geld made his move, keenly judging Lou as a vulnerable target. The correct Critical Moment finally came as Geld materialized to strike. Joe threw up a Rite of Release, his right eye appearing as a delta. He stalled the strike with his delta manipulation, forcing the difference in kinetic energy between Geld and the ground to near zero for only a moment.

  A moment was all Lou needed, his strategy to bait the moment had succeeded. He knew that Geld would not commit to any strike while they had their guard up. He was a coward. However, Lou had placed a bet that the entity was too arrogant not to attempt a strike when he let his guard down. The collateral for this wager was his life. With the speed befitting a master of the Viper School, Louey drew his pistol.

  Gellerite flashed and the shot rang out. The bullet tore through Geld’s skull. The creature reeled as its head was blown apart. Joe breathed in and drew his pistol. The two Guns unloaded into Geld, firing several shots each. As they ran out, they reloaded with practiced swipes at the cylinders, and opened up again. Geld’s body was torn asunder by bullets designed to disrupt magical energy. The creature fell over onto the pavement.

  Almost instantly the winds died. The dust which had been so pervasive began to clear. Sunlight shone through the waning storm, lighting up the corpse of the monster on the pavement. Lou studied it closely. It really did look like a large man. He wondered if this was the end result of the process he had saved Calvin from. It seemed too grotesque to imagine.

  “I can’t believe we got him. He was slippery.” Joe adjusted his hat, still breathing heavily. “Should check on the kid.”

  Joe looked out onto the street as Lou went to the bar. Bodies lay on the ground, the men he had shot, and those he had hit with his hands. The men he beat down were wheezing and coughing, still alive. His attention snapped to the church as the barkeep tumbled down the steps. She rushed over to him, tears running down her face.

  “Did Tyler make it, mister?”

  “He’s fine.” Louey emerged from the bar holding the boy’s hand. “A little shaken, but he will live.”

  She threw open her arms to welcome her brother. Lou let go of Tyler and watched him embrace her. He couldn’t help but smile. Even in horrid times like these, full of hardship and violence, love still persisted in its purest form. This was the fundamental truth that kept Lou Cobb centered. All the death he had seen in his years, all the pain, it could tear people down. It could turn a man against his fellows, like Lou’s old comrade-turned-traitor Gareth Doherty. It could turn a man to seek strength above all else, like his comrade Billy Baird. Instead, it turned Lou Cobb to the people, to protect what little they had to hold close.

  “Tornado Joe.”

  Joe turned to his companion. He could see that sunny look on his face again.

  “You did good. You really did.”

  “So that’s it?” The younger gun asked.

  Lou shook his head. “We’re done here, but we have a lot more to figure out.”