Red Star Sheriff Chapter Seventeen ~The Quick And The Dead~ Part Two: Story Time With Tim

Here we go with Act Three of my first MAJOR novel that I self-published a few years ago! I’ll be posting the whole work here with links to where you can find the novel on sale, to read completely, and author pages to check out all the other work I have available out there! Feel free to support the cause! Or just enjoy all the free reads I’m giving you. No worries. No hate. Just continue coming back and reading my work! I am Timothy Scott Purvis and THIS is Story Time With Tim!

Red Star Sheriff is a work inspired by several sources. First off, it is a sort of light homage to the Dark Tower series written by Stephen King. It doesn’t go overboard with the inferences, but the travails of a lead character who isn’t very emotional overall lends the weight to a protagonist who will go out of her way to get the job done. Secondly, this work was initially inspired by the video game series, Wild Arms. I had once considered this sort of an anime’ in literary form. A high octane lead character driven to become the best gunslinger in the solar system. Third, and definitely not least, I drew significant inspiration for overarching details from the show Westworld.

Many elements came together to make this work what it is. It is a long story coming in at just under 190 thousand words in total. Yet, it is a quick read, if I do say so myself with a lot of intense action and interesting characters. I’ll post links below for where to find this novel in its complete form so feel free to support the cause and check them out. I will also include links for prior chapters and postings throughout this venture so that it will be easy to keep pace of where the story has been so that the reader can keep up with the story.

Anyhow, Aidele Wilson is the lead protagonist. Her father was murdered so the story starts out with a quest for revenge. Then, a journal he’d written becomes the focus of a fast paced journey across the Wastelands trying to evade Union soldiers who want the journal for what lies within its pages: key technology specs that will alter the balance of power in all of the colonies.

Thanks for reading and read to you again next week! See you then.

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ACT ONE

RSS Chapter One Part One, RSS Chapter One Part Two, RSS Chapter Two Part One, RSS Chapter Two Part Two, RSS Chapter Two Part Three, RSS Chapter Two Part Four, RSS Chapter Two Part Five, RSS Chapter Three Part One, RSS Chapter Three Part Two, RSS Chapter Four Part One, RSS Chapter Four Part Two, RSS Chapter Four Part Three, RSS Chapter Five Part One, RSS Chapter Five Part Two, RSS Chapter Six Part One, RSS Chapter Six Part Two, RSS Chapter Seven Part One, RSS Chapter Seven Part Two

ACT TWO

RSS Chapter Eight Part One, RSS Chapter Eight Part Two, RSS Chapter Nine Part One, RSS Chapter Nine Part Two, RSS Chapter Ten, RSS Chapter Eleven Part One, RSS Chapter Eleven Part Two, RSS Chapter Eleven Part Three, RSS Chapter Twelve Part One, RSS Chapter Twelve Part Two, RSS Chapter Twelve Part Three, RSS Chapter Thirteen

ACT THREE

RSS Chapter Fourteen Part One, RSS Chapter Fourteen Part Two, RSS Chapter Fifteen Part One, RSS Chapter Fifteen Part Two, RSS Chapter Sixteen Part One, RSS Chapter Sixteen Part Two, RSS Chapter Seventeen Part One

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RED STAR SHERIFF: ACT THREE: CHAPTER SEVENTEEN ~THE QUICK AND THE DEAD~ PART TWO

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THE PLASMA DOORS buzzed open as Aidele reached the Praetorium’s main foyer. She could hear voices echoing out as she started up the grand stairwell listening intently for any clue as to what Asta was up to up there. Asta’s voice boomed as she commanded someone or some people to leave, offering no room for argument. Blood hung in the air, the taint of copper and fear-filled sweat thick and angry. Strangely, Aidele didn’t think it was Asta’s doing this time. This wasn’t the sort of haunt a hunter like Lynch would grace unless she was forced to and there was no other option.

  Aidele checked her revolvers and lowered the settings to just between two and three. No sense getting too violent in the halls of government, she figured. Her right revolver she left in hand and holstered the other. Then began the ridiculous march up the foyer stairwell. She was halfway up when a group of people started down. Two were assisting a young woman who looked shot in the thigh and was bleeding profusely in spite of the bandaging over her dress jeans. The other man she recognized immediately as Senator Sonoros. That son-of-a-bitch… Should’ve known you were involved somehow.

  Asta was nowhere to be seen.

  “Oh great. If it isn’t the instigator. Come to tell more tall tales, Ms. Wilson?” Sonoros remarked snidely as the group stopped just ahead of her. The man to the woman’s right, Asta’s man she knew—Drevan, glared at the senator with the sort of malice reserved for rabid mangers. She liked him already.

  Aidele glared at Sonoros. “Looks like all the tall tales, as you say, jus’ came ta pay you a visit.”

  Sonoros’ scowl deepened but he gave no retort. Drevan gave a slight grin and nodded to her. “Assassin named Nielson was gunnin’ fer him’n mah daughter here, Amelia. This here’s Curt.”

  Curt grinned. “Pleasure to meet you. Wish it were under better circumstances, uh…?”

  “Aidele. What’s the score?”

  Drevan grimaced. “Asta’s got ‘im pinned behind a pillar. We showed up when we heard Amelia was in trouble. Got her jus’n time. Sorry, Aidele. We were forced ta hunt ya on a… General Berricks’ orders.”

  Aidele scowled. “Yeah. Me’n him are acquainted already. Thought it strange ya’ll out in the Sutures. Not after… well, that business’s behind us, ah suppose.”

  “Glad ta hear it, yung’un. Cuz Asta shore could use yer help. Nielson’s real trouble. Dangerous man, so… keep yer eyes open. Ah don’ hear no shootin’. Gotta reckon it’s still a standoff.”

  They heard Asta saying something but it was indistinct. Likely a taunt at the Nielson fellow. Aidele nodded. “Ah’ll git her side. Bring her out in one piece.”

  “‘Preciate it. Would like mah children’s mother comin’ home with all her bits attached. Shoulda set down, y’know, when we had the chance. Instead o’gittin’ drawn inta the Union’s grip once ag’in.”

  Aidele tugged on the brim of her hat. “Ah’ll do all ah ken ta make sure ya git one more chance at that.”

  He nodded and they all parted ways, Aidele pushing up to whatever fight was waiting.

#

“WHATCHOU WAITIN’ FER, Nielson!? Fraid ah might whoop yer ass? Din’t take ya fer such a yeller belly!” Asta took a light step to her left. Nielson had yet to make a move and her gut alarm was singing a symphony of tension, the focus on all her surroundings as sharp as it’d ever been. He was being too cautious all of a sudden. He had to have realized it was just her and him now. Had even taunted him with it, yet he wouldn’t even respond. “Ya up’n die back there?”

  If she tried to circle the pillar, he would do one of two things: keep the column between them, or try to surprise her with his own patient assault. A ‘poof’ echoed out followed by a smattering like something electronic had just exploded. On the panel by the lifts, a section of interface was sparkling as if it’d been punched by something hard and fast. A brow raised up and she smiled as the digital number display above the lift indicated that the elevator car was currently lowering to their floor. She shook her head. Nielson had discovered a third option she hadn’t anticipated and it made her want to laugh at how absurd the idea of it was. Seriously? Yer callin’ fer a lift?

  Asta steadied the iron in her left hand, ready for any act on his part. It could still simply be a diversion, after all. She didn’t have long to wait for which it was as the lift doors slid open and Nielson flung himself out of cover and raced towards the waiting interior, his guns in hand preparing to fire at her. Asta grinned and shot his leg out from under him. He pitched forward landing face first into the marbled floor, guns dropping from his hands as he gripped his thigh and gritted his teeth. The assassin flopped over onto his back as the lift doors re-shut with a very pleasant ‘ding’. No words came from his mouth, but a guttural groan was making its way out of his throat despite his obvious attempt to the otherwise.

  Asta walked until she was within six-feet of him, gun aimed right at his head, then stopped. “Got yer mark now, don’ ah? Only prey ya like’re what looks ripe fer the takin’. Any serious threat’n ya dart off like a gulley hare. Yes, sir. Ya done showed me true. Always doin’ yer killin’ skulkin’ ‘round the shadows. Well, son, ah do mah killin’ face-ter-face. Any last words?”

  Nielson lurched for his gun and she fired a round into his shoulder sending him sliding back a foot and out of reach of his weapons. Spittle flew forth from his mouth as blood pooled out of the fresh wound. Damn shame, she thought. Helluva day ta fergit yer body armor. Her eyes narrowed savagely as a cursing insult flew her way.

  “Sorry. Ah din’t git that. Care ta repeat it where ah ken hear ya?”

  So focused on punishing Nielson, she almost didn’t hear the footsteps coming up from behind in a slow, patient cadence. Asta pulled her right iron and pointed it to her side and behind, her eyes trailing towards the newcomer, her left iron never leaving the scowling Nielson rocking on the floor. A young woman she was quite familiar with came to a halt. Both met eyes and, for a moment, neither said anything. Asta broke the silence as she swallowed hard.

  “Aidele.”

  “Asta.” Aidele walked towards Nielson in a slow, deliberate manner, one of those lethal hand cannons in her gloved right fist hanging loosely, ready to be wielded. “Met Drevan on the way in. Said ya might need help. Looks like ya gots things under control. Still, ah ain’ here fer fuedin’ wit’ you. No, ma’am. Been tol’ this here’s Berricks’ hound. Guessin’ he’s got some singin’ ta do. Bet his howl is divine.”

  Asta cautiously holstered her revolvers as Aidele stopped before Nielson, raised her own Iron towards the assassin, her eyes narrowed and an angry, dark gaze holding his own. Somehow, incredibly, the assassin managed a smile and a chuckle.

  “Hate to break it to you, Ms. Wilson, but I was never one for song.”

  “Might explain what yer doin’ on the floor right now bleedin’ out,” Aidele didn’t move a muscle save for her right thumb triggering slightly some disc on the inner pistol grip. “Ah know you. Gave me advice about how ta fit inta find mah man. Funny you should be workin’ fer the guy who’s actually in charge o’all this carnage. Responsible fer mah father’s death. Allow me ta return the favor’n offer up mah own advice. An observation o’you people, really. Mah weapons are mah voice. An extension o’mah body. Actin’ in concert wit’ every thought, every move. Not jus’ weapons, limbs. As natural to use as a finger, a toe, or mah sight. Yet, to you people, they ain’ nothin’ more’n a tool. Jus’ an instrument ta point’n shoot. Ya don’ respect ‘em. They’re easily tossed aside. That’s why you will always lose. That’s why yer layin’ there, pretendin’ ya ain’ afraid when ah ken smell the fear wafting offa yer flesh like the stench from a rotting carcass. Now, were your guns yer limb, yer life, yer voice, ya might not be here right now. So, my advice to you, if’n ya manage ta live through this night, consider lissenin’ ta yer voice a little harder. Now, onto our business, where’s Berricks?”

  Nielson burst out laughing. “Nice little lecture. Charming to the core. I’ll consider it when I get out of here. However, to your query, do you really expect to hold your own against the general?”

  Asta bristled. All Aidele had just said was sage advice. The very core to learning to survive in the Wastelands. Yet, Nielson dismissed it as if he’d just discovered a rotten core in one apple in a batch and lazily tossed it aside. She really wanted to shoot him now. And expected Aidele to call him out on his dismissal. But she seemed to be more focused on other matters than the man’s slight to their way of life. So Asta held her tongue.

  “Took his arm off, din’t ah? Seem ta recall ah was pretty done in too when ah did it,” Aidele cocked her revolver. “Ya ken either tell me where he is an’ ah put ya down quick, or say nothin’ an’ ah stand aside’n watch Ms. Lynch deal wit’ ya her way.”

  The laugh in Nielson’s throat faded and his grin disappeared as he stared at Asta, her arms crossed, waiting. “You can’t get to Berricks. You have my apologies. He’s back on board our dreadnought. In orbit. It’s the Invicta if you want to try your luck boarding it. Course, you have to have special permissions and an access code to lower the defensive network. Meaning you’d need one of our shuttles. Somehow, I doubt you have one in your possession.”

  Aidele frowned, uncocking her Iron. If Berricks was now off world, that complicated matters significantly. Her mind raced looking for a solution. Could she somehow convince him to return to the surface? Could she just grab another shuttle, figure out a way to gain security access? The Council wasn’t going to help, that was for sure. What could she do? Use her revolvers and shoot her way in on board the waverider? She lowered her revolver and was quiet. Asta watched all of this saying nothing. She could tell Aidele was weighing her options of dealing with Berricks. And, secretly, wanted to help. But after all their years of conflict, would the young woman accept it? There was also a growing emotion in her heart. Aidele was so much like her mother it was sending a tremble through her body. She tried to push it to the side as she spoke.

  “Not gonna finish him off quick like?” Asta’s voice brought Aidele out of her thoughts.

  Aidele shook her head. “Naw. Ah’m thinkin’ we jus’ leave ‘im fer the law ta deal wit’. Hell, Berricks’ golden boy being incarcerated might actually convince the Council they gots a Union problem.”

  She glared down at Nielson, who had gone pale and was keeping silent. The tremble in Asta’s body became a tremor and before she knew it, a flood of emotion had overcome her. A sob echoed out. Aidele turned to see Asta with a hand held to her lips as if trying to hold in the sick. A tear found its way down Asta’s cheek and Aidele furrowed her brows.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Asta dropped to her knees, crying. Aidele’s mouth fell open as she came rushing to her side and knelt down beside Asta. A hand reached up and gripped Asta’s shoulder.

  The two women remained there a moment, Asta sobbing, Aidele not knowing what to do.

  Then Asta let loose, “Ya remind me… so much… o’yer mother. Ah ken see her in you in so many ways! An’ ah’m… jus’ more sorry fer what ah did than ah ken ever say. She was mah best friend, Aidele! Practically a sister… No, she was mah sister. We rode tagetha fer decades. Ah always had a quick temper… never could hol’ mah tongue when ah felt betrayed. But… ah wasn’t betrayed. Ah betrayed her! Ah forced her into that horrible standoff! Ah couldn’t unnerstan’ why she took off… Couldn’t unnerstan’ why she did what she did’n tol’ me nothin’! But, instead o’jus’ askin’, ah blew up! This li’l voice in mah head jus’ kept screamin’, ‘Kill me, then! Kill me now! Ah’m already dyin’ cuz mah sista hurt me!’ An’, when ah fired, ah fully expected Mirra ta put me down… She was always faster’n me, y’know? But, she din’t… ah… She never even reached!”

  Asta drove both of her palms into her eyes and tears streamed between her fingers. Aidele stared at the floor seeing their dim reflections in its sheen. It felt as if someone had her in a choke hold and her face flushed a deeper red. Hot and angry looking. Yeah, she was still angry. Still wanted to put Asta down. Swore she would if she ever saw her again. Swore it in their last, bitter conflict. But that had been two years ago. When she had first decided to track Asta down. She could see the smile on her mother’s face clearly. And could remember her dying words as she lay there on the ground bleeding to death.

  Aidele exhaled a slow, deliberate breath and gathered herself. No. She couldn’t disrespect her mother. Not now. Not ever. She brought her up better than that.

  “I… hate you…” Aidele said looking Asta straight in the eyes. Asta dropped her hands to meet that gaze. “I hate that you… took so much away from me. It’s a pain that will never go away.”

  “Ah know. An’ ah deserve that hate. Ever ounce o’vit.” The tears continued to flow, but the sobbing had stopped. “Ah ain’ lookin’ fer yer forgiveness. Ah… kent even fergive mahself.”

  Aidele shook her head. “Well… ya weren’t fully ta blame neither. Ma used ya too. Ta track down those really responsible fer our misery. Men like that bleedin’ cuss right there,” she pointed to Nielson who was trying to stealthily reach his gun an arm’s length away. “An’ ah ain’ gonna let ‘em git away wit’ it. Ah’m gonna bring true ‘Justice’ ta these men. Hol’ ‘em accountable. An… an ah am gonna fergive ya. Cuz… what ah’ve come ta unnerstan’ lately, is that was all business between you’n mah mom. An’ the way ah figure it, our business is done. That cloud hangin’ over yer head, ya jus’ wave it away. Y’know, jus’ before mah mom died, ah remember her sayin’ somethin’. She said—”

  They saw Nielson grab his gun and force himself to his feet in a raging howl. Aidele and Asta both pulled their revolvers and came to their feet in practically the same motion. Nielson had no chance to pull the trigger on his own gun as all four revolvers unloaded into his torso. His body went flying backwards and, by the time it had hit the ground, was little more than a splattering heap of pulpy wet mash. There were several squishy sounding thumps, thwamping fwumps, and crunchy bumps before the corpse came to rest. Blood and viscera were pooled all over the floor and the lift walls. Somehow brain matter was crawling down a lift door. Though most of the body was still intact, it was barely recognizable for the man it once was.

  They holstered their arms and Aidele turned to Asta, wrapping her arms around her neck. Asta embraced her back, short on words and high on adrenaline. Aidele spoke into her ear.

  “When my mother passed, she said, ‘Don’t let them take the Wastelands. Don’t let them take Hinon,’ to my father.” Aidele let go and stepped back. “At the time, I thought she was talking about you and yours. But, these last few months have shined a light on a different truth, men like Berricks and Nielson. The Union hasn’t given up its war. An mom was involved in fightin’ them, I think. No. I know. She never told nobody because she… was a Red Star Sheriff, and had to keep her activities quiet. Mah father was involved too. It’s why everybody has been after his journal. He created technology that could help the Union finally conquer Hinon. Not for them, of course. But for… my mother. To help her in her fight to drive the Union back. To discover who was helping them. Likely someone on the inside of our government. That was why she didn’t tell you anything. That was why she didn’t want you tagging along. She was afraid you’d get in the way or get hurt and too much was on the line. I can’t say that was it directly… but I feel that is the truth of it, because everything I’ve learned about her and her life that I didn’t know about, all points to her leaving all of us to do this task she felt only she could do.”

  Asta felt the heavy weight on her lift, felt strange emotions surging through her. It all made a sort of sick sense when one stood back and looked at all the little details. “That’s… well, ah don’t know what. Yer momma was a Red Star? Ah… that would explain so much.”

  Asta stared at the floor putting all the pieces together. Yes, that was a strong conclusion. That first time they met and the hurry she was in to get Fenton away. Disappearing for months and years at a time only to return and continue riding. At first, she had to have just found Asta a useful tool. But, then when it came to that final showdown, that wretched affair… ‘I wish I could’ve told you. But this is so much bigger than the two of us…’ Damn it, Mirra! Why didn’t ya let me in! Ah could’ve helped ya! Even if’n ya were worried fer mah safety! Family don’ stand aside fer business like that!

  Aidele tried to smile, but she was exhausted and just wanted to sleep. Now though there was a bloody mess to contend with. Footsteps raced up the stairwell towards them and they saw Drevan hurrying across the foyer. He slowed down once he saw them. Aidele took a step to the side. An expression of concern was etched on his face but soon gave way to relief. He stopped between them and looked down to what was left of the man on the floor.

  “…Shit. Nielson’s pretty gawddamn dead.”

  Asta crossed her arms, cheeks still wet, and shook her head. “Ah thought ah tol’ ya ta git the kids outta here?”

  Drevan looked back and forth between the two women and took a deep breath. “Ah did. They’re waitin’ out front. I heard a whole lot o’shootin’n that Sonoros feller bolted. Guess he decided he din’t need our help after all. Din’t even say ‘thanks’. Speaking o’which,” he looked to Aidele. “Thanks.”

  Aidele nodded with a slight smile. “Tweren’t nothin’, sir. But, yeah, that Sonoros is as untrustworthy as they come. Ain’ worth worryin’ ‘bout, though. How’s the girl? Looked wounded in the thigh.”

  “Ayup. Shot by that bloody cur right there. She won’ let me dig it out, though. Insists on goin’ ta the hospital.”

  “Hospital? What’s wrong wit’ jus’ diggin’ it out now?” Aidele raised a brow, grin threatening to broaden.

  Drevan tried not to chuckle. “Ah know, right? She’s turned inta quite the city girl. Though, we probably should git her ta the doc’s asap.”

  “Fer we do that, should probably alert the authorities,” Aidele started. “Well, ah ken. Ya’ll git yer girl ta the hospital. Jus’ ask the zipcoach where it is.”

  “Ya sure ‘bout that? Don’t ya need any help here?” Asta furrowed her brows.

  “Gonna call fer help now. Don’ worry, we’ll take care o’it.”

  “Awright. Ain’ gonna argue.” Asta nodded and then walked to Aidele to rub her shoulder. Aidele looked up at her, her face tired but relieved. “If’n ya ever… an’ ah mean, ever, need anything. Ya jus’ let me know. Ah owe ya a lot, yung’un. We’ll be in town fer a spell, ah’d think. Ah know ya got this crazy thought circlin’ yer mind ta go after Berricks. Ya ain’ gotta do that alone.”

  “Yer family needs you. I won’t take you away from them.”

  “Ah… ah think yer family too. Ah done messed up once, kent do that again. Not fer Mirra’s sake.”

  Aidele nodded. “Okay. I’ll… keep that in mind. Now, you two get off to take care of your daughter.”

  “Will do.”

  Aidele tipped her hat and Asta nodded as they parted. Aidele crossed the hall to the holo-index. She waved her hand in front of the console and holographic displays popped out into the air. She triggered an open line and after maybe twenty seconds, Durante answered.

  “Aidele! Where have you been? We’ve been worried about you.”

  “Uhm, long story. Get Grandfather. I need his help.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “I’ll explain when you get here.”

  “Here?”

#

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Thanks for reading and hope you had fun! There will be more to come next week! Until then, have a good week!

~Timothy S Purvis

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Amazon Kindle Author’s Page–> Timothy S Purvis

Smashwords Author’s Page–> Timothy S Purvis

Red Star Sheriff On Amazon Kindle–> Red Star Sheriff Volume One Kindle

Red Star Sheriff On Amazon Paperback–> Red Star Sheriff Volume One Paperback

Red Star Sheriff On Smashwords–> Red Star Sheriff Volume One Smashwords

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I would appreciate if you have Kindle or even if you want some paperback goodies if you’d head on over to my page and maybe show me some love there. I mean, if you’ve been reading a while and see something you like, wouldn’t you like to have it in your personal library? I have some cool short stories available for cheap. Also Tales From A Strange Mind that collects my short stories (there’s also a Kindle edition but, for some reason, Amazon wouldn’t let me link them together) , Tales From A Strange Mind II which collects my old novellas, Red Star Sheriff (Which also has a Kindle edition but Amazon, am I right?) my first novel ever released, though, yes, it does have some grammatical errors and drags on for way too long, sigh. But I still love it and I will be writing a follow up sometime within the next few years. I have a collection of my poems called MisAligned: The Heart Waxes Poetic which collects my old poems but not some of my newer ones included those flash fictions! I’ll probably do that in the future as well. And if you love the perfectly inane, why not check out my Star Cloud scripts presented in book form? Star Cloud The Original Scripts. Another one where Amazon was being difficult with me in connecting the Kindle and PB versions. Still, the paperback they let me sale for cheap and it’s well worth a look if I say so myself. Or, if you don’t want to click on individual links (all of which will take you to my author’s page anyway), just click on my author’s page directly by tapping my name: Timothy S Purvis See for yourself what all I’ve published since I began this venture in 2016.

I mean, if you like my work, of course. No pressure. Just trying to find my way in this world without working menial tasks and suffering physical and mental issues as a result. If only I could merely stay home and write. That would be my most epic fantasy brought to life. Well, if you don’t want to do that, you could also donate to my cause down below after all is said and done. It would help. You know, if you liked what you saw and all. Up to you. I don’t have a lot of reviews on my materials because of low sales. I mean, very, very low sales. In the single digits. Right now, I have to rely on Pubby for reviews and those people only read your synopsis and recap it for a five star review. I want honest opinions. Not mean ones, but honest. So, if you ever find yourself buying some of my work, I’d certainly appreciate some feedback. Again, up to you.

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