A Song for Winter: Western One Off

William woke from his nap as the train whistle signaled that it was pulling into the station. He always fell asleep on trains if there wasn’t a poker game to hustle. There was something about the movement of the train over its tracks that had a lulling effect. As William stood, the butts of his silver-plated six shooters knocked against his hips. They were his trusty sidearms that cost a pretty penny, but when one of the folf’s bounties saw the silver reflected in the sun, they knew their time had come. William had a large bowie knife strapped under his vest with its handle faced down for a surprise quick draw if needed. Inside the large rucksack, the folf carried off the train with him was a repeating rifle for when he was ready to track his quarry. William turned down the brim of his black ten-gallon hat against the sun when the click of a revolver cocking sounded next to his head.

 

“Ya know, you’d think there’d be a warmer reception for the person who took a bullet for you back in the war,” William smirked as he turned to look at the person who had drawn a gun. The folf’s left eye shone green in the sun while his right had a black leather eyepatch over it. “Ain’t that right, sheriff?” A grey and white deer fox stood there, one hand on his gun while the other rested on a second revolver on his hip. His antlers reflected a soft blue in the summer sun as the cervine hybrid stood firm on his hooved feet.

 

“You know damn well that bounty hunters ain’t welcome in Deer Pines,” the dox stated without relaxing his stance. “I handle the law in this town, and we don’t need freelancers making a mess of the place.”

 

“See, that's the thing there, Ewan,” William chuckled as he opened his vest enough to reveal a metal badge in the shape of a star in a circle, “I’m working for the federals these days.” Ewan looked at the badge and then back at William before he uncocked his gun and shoved it into its holster. 

 

“How on earth did that happen,” Ewan laughed as his stance relaxed. “What happened to the ‘ain’t no way I’m selling out to the  government’ bounty hunter that was carving a trail of blood across the west.”

 

“Buy me a drink, and I’ll tell you all about it, antler boy,” William sighed as he looked around for the nearest saloon.

 

A few minutes later, at the Howling Crow Saloon, Ewan bought William a pint of beer and a shot of whiskey. The two reminisced about their time serving as army rangers during the war and caught up like old friends. Finally, William spilled and explained that he finally gave in and signed onto the government payroll after a bounty hunt went sideways. The folf wouldn’t say much about what happened, but it did weigh heavy on his soul. After what happened, William took a federal commission as a Federal Ranger.

 

“They sent me here to figure out how a sheriff with no deputies or backup of any kind keeps a logging town in the middle of nowhere crime-free,” William explained as he pulled a stack of papers out of his rucksack. “Also, they have some questions about your requisitions as of late. They’ve been filling them, but I want to ensure they are all used appropriately. Rather than to arm some personal militia.”

 

“We’ve been through a lot together and seen many a strange thing, but I don’t think you’ll believe me if I explained truthfully; you’d think I’ve taken leave of my senses,” Ewan sighed as he looked over the stack of requisition forms he’d sent in over the last year. “Half the time, I don’t believe it myself, and I lived through it.”

 

“Try me,” William dared his former comrade in arms as he drained the last bit of his drink. Ewan motioned for the folf to follow him and left the saloon as it wasn’t the place to discuss this business. On the edge of town, just a few feet from the pine woods, the pair stopped, and the dox sheriff explained everything that had happened over the last year. Things initially seemed normal, like making peace with the local native fox tribe or eliminating the local criminal element by being the quickest draw in six counties. After that stuff, those events started to trend toward the fantastical. Ewan claimed to have been cursed by a wendigo. As a result of that curse spent most nights hunting the beasts.

 

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me,” Ewan said as he saw the disbelief on William’s face. He started to say something else when a loud crash echoed from the pines. Quickly Ewan drew his lever action rifle from across his back and cocked it. William pulled his from his rucksack and followed suit, unsure of what would happen.

 

“EEEwwwwaaaannnnn,” a dark ragged voice called from the darkness as a pair of red eyes lit up. Ewan started firing shots in rapid succession as the crashing noises got closer.

 

“Don’t just stand there! Shoot the fucker,” Ewan shouted, totally dropping his polite demeanor. “They're getting bolder coming this close to town. Don’t look it in the eyes, and don’t say your name. You don’t need their curse on you.” William didn’t need to be told twice. He started to unload his rifle at the thing in the woods. Moments later, a ten-foot-tall emaciated creature with a cervine skull head top with blood stain antlers emerged from the woods. It roared a mighty howl that shook the night. The creature ignored the rifle rounds pumped into its body and charged the sheriff. Rifle empty, William drew his six shooters and began to fire them off, but despite the bullets that ripped apart its flesh, the wendigo remained determined to kill Ewan. With his axe, the sheriff kept the beast’s long claws away from him. Determined to get the beast to notice him, William holstered his guns and drew his bowie knife from under his vest. As the wendigo ignored him, the folf ran behind it and drove his blade into the thing’s leg, hoping to hobble it. Still calling out Ewan’s name, the aberration kicked the folf like a startled horse and sent him into a nearby shed through the air. Shaken, William stood back up in the collapsed remains of the shed to find it was a dynamite storage building.

 

“Get clear; I have one of those crazy ideas that won us the war,” William yelled as he tied a bundle of dynamite to his knife. He lit the bundle and ran at the beast as Ewan ducked a claw swipe and backed away from the wendigo. William leaped high and plunged the knife into the creature’s back. It stuck firm as the folf scrambled away for cover. There was a moment when the beast tried to get the knife out of its back. It failed to retrieve it as the explosives went off. A cloud of dust kicked up to obscure William and Ewans’s vision from their hiding spots. 

 

“Still as reckless as ever, I see,” Ewan coughed as dust swirled around.

 

“If it works, it works,” William smirked as the dust settled. “By and by, you owe me a new knife.” The pair started to laugh but stopped when an eerie howl sounded. From the dust cloud, the wendigo stumbled forth with half its body blown to pieces. It set its glowing red eyes on Ewan and called his name more raggedy than before. The destroyed body and arm reformed as the sheriff drew his revolvers.

 

“Take my axe and go to the abandoned church north of town,” Ewan ordered as the dox pointed to his axe in the dirt. “It's after me. I’ll lead him the long way there. There’s something under the old altar that can end this fast.” William started to argue, but Ewan fired off a couple of rounds at the wendigo before he took off into the night. The abominable aberration chased the grey deer fox and completely ignored the folf. Seeing no point in disobeying the order he had received, William grabbed the axe in the dirt and his discarded rifle before he headed towards the abandoned church.

 

The old abandoned church sat on the shores of the lake north of Deer Pines. A massive lock and chain sealed the splintering doors shut. With Ewan’s handaxe, William managed to bust the lock off the chain without damaging the weapon. He made a mental note to find out what it was made of to get his next knife made of the same stuff. The church doors creaked loudly into the night as William pushed them open. With the help of his pocket lighter, the folf ranger made his way through the dark building towards the busted altar. William kicked the wooden dais aside, revealing a disassembled Gatling gun in a hidden alcove.

 

“Hid some big boy toys here, didn’t ya,” William remarked as he pulled the gun pieces out and began to reassemble it rapidly as he had done many times before. Within minutes he put back the Gatling gun together and loaded it. Ewan was nowhere to be seen, so William reloaded his rifle just to be safe. As the arctic folf chambered the last round, the gunshot flash briefly illuminated the sheriff and the wendigo not far from the church. William braced himself against the crank of the Gatling gun and waited for a clear shot.

 

“Now,” Ewan yelled as he dove to the church floor. William required no extra prompting and immediately started cranking the gun. High-caliber rounds tore through the wendigo’s flesh as its hulking form of the creature. The folf kept firing the weapon till it clicked empty. It continued despite the four hundred rounds of ammo that completely decimated the aberration’s flesh and left little more than a heart on a skeleton torso. William swore as he grabbed his rifle and aimed it at the beast’s heart.

 

“Unleash,” the one-eyed folf whispered to his rifle. Runes on the barrel of the gun lit up with pale blue light. As the bullet left the barrel, the ambient temperature in the area dropped drastically. The wendigo’s heart was simultaneously torn apart and froze simultaneously. Finally, the beast collapsed dead as ice overtook its body. Ewan turned dumbfounded to the folf ranger. “Federal Rangers,” William introduced himself again with a pause before he finished, “Special Defence Regiment.” 

 

William explained why he was sent to Deer Pines as the two disposed of the wendigo corpse. His job that went sideways involved him running afoul of a fey queen that, up until then, he didn’t know existed. Since a mystical creature marked him and he was an excellent hunter, the Special Defence Regiment swooped in to recruit the folf. For the last few months, he hunted supernatural creatures and put them in the ground.

 

“Then why did you look so disbelieving when I was telling you my story,” Ewan asked as he hacked off the head of the Wendigo corpse. 

 

“I was about to ask you if ya had proof of these claims, but it found us before I could,” William answered as he watched the dox make a small fire and burn the skull. “I’m going to report that you have this situation under control. I don’t want to get stuck out here fighting these things constantly. Plus, you’ve got this under control for now.”

 

“This one was bigger than they usually are, but yeah, for the most part, I’ve got this handled,” Ewan grimaced as the wendigo skull shrieked one last time as it burned.

 

“After I return to the capital with my report, I’ll send you a mountain of paperwork,” William informed the dox sheriff. “Fill it all out and send it back, and you’ll be made a Federal Ranger under the offices of the Special Defence Regiment. You’ll get a pay bump and access to far better weapons than the government provides you.” That said, the folf set off to find someplace to sleep for the night.