Damian "Nomad" Kovacs's Story

The Nomad came to town from the east side, riding on his horse at a slow steady walk, as his horse was tired from taking the trails that only a madman would take. His green eyes darted from place to place, trying to figure out where's where in the town of Splitcreek.

Ahead he thought he saw a gunfight, his lips licked and a slow chilling smile started to come across his face, he almost felt tempted to leap into the fray, his gun blazing to get the person on the bounty, he started to chuckle to himself that was slowly starting to turn into an almost berserking laughter, at that moment his horse whinnied, snapping him out of his reverie. he looked at his horse and made towards a drinking trough in front of a particular tavern that a dusty sign read Silver Spur. Looking at the tavern he cocked his head to the side in a odd sense of thinking.

"Maybe a job's open there, unless the town Marshall or someone nabs me to be their deputy or bodyguard." Damian muttered to himself as he dismounted off his horse and let him start drinking before he started to walk in, hearing someone thanking the bartender for a beer as he wandered to an empty table and down, he gave the Man and the bartender a friendly nod before setting his eyes on the table to concentrate on other matters in his head.

Morgan watched the stranger enter the bar, nodding in response to the strange soul who'd drifted in. He looked beraggled, scruffy at best, but a trip through the desert'll do that to you. He wandered over to a table, as if blown by an invisible wind, and sat down, immediately fixing his eyes on the table. A very pensive fellow, indeed.

He could've stayed to chat, but Morgan had already wasted the better part of the day in the Silver Spur, and it was high time he got back to his tidy little office and had himself a nap. He didn't hear any more gun shots, but that didn't mean it was over. More likely, Alex was just being careful with his bullets. Fingering the gun holstered in his belt, Morgan pushed his way through the double door of the saloon and stepped out onto the porch.

Alex's horse was gone, which meant he'd given chase. "Better you than me," he muttered, shaking his head. He himself had walked to the Silver Spur, as his office was only a few storefronts away on Splitcreek's main street, and he headed that way now. His office was in the opposite direction from the chase, which was good; he wouldn't have to listen to the racket of a showdown. Hopefully whatever low-life outlaw had ridden into town hadn't brought friends.

Headed for his office, Morgan caught sight of a new wanted poster that'd recently been put up. It was a woman this time. Uncommon, but not at all unheard of. "Wildcat Kate". He snorted, shaking his head. Well damn, she had herself a proper nickname and everything. For amusement, he looked over the other wanted posters, noting a certain "Richard The Bell-Ringer", among many other outlaws. Seemed there were new posters appearing everyday. He whistled through his teeth as he saw what "Mister Bell" was wanted for, scanning the long list of charges. A very grisly fellow, certainly not someone you'd want to run into on a dark night.

Reaching his office, Morgan headed up the two steps to the porch of the sagging wooden building and sat himself down in a rocker, his hand on his gun as he drifted off to sleep.

"Sprich nicht mit mir, du verrückter Mann!" Jan growled in response to the foolish hermit. If it was any other day he would have thrown a flurry of insults at the kleine Scheißer, but he did not have the time or the patince today. What he had was a pulse pounding headache that shook his body with every heartbeat from last nights events, and a mountain of work to contend with. So long story short, he was not in the mood to argue or fight with any of these yokels today. That would have to wait till tonight at the card table.

Morgan thanked the bartender, stood up, and wandered out of the cool aired bar into the scorching hot desert only to be replaced by another lone wandering customer. It dawned on Jan for the first time that he should do the same, as he had work to do.

Sauntering out from the shaded bar filled with the melody of some slag trying to work the piano, Jan ventured out into the sunburnt and arid desert. The gunfight had long left this part of the small mining and goldpaning town an eerie tone of quiet, though you could still hear yelling and the thuds of hoofs beating the bone dry sand in the distance. The cowgirl stood slack jawed in the middle of the substitute road, forlorn by the yearning to be involved in such excitement.

Unhitching one of his privately owned horses and hopping on (after much climbing and effort) he speed off toward Stanleys point.

Damian regarded the man who nodded at him with a small smile as he continued to look at the table, reflecting on the years he had been hunting outlaws that both deserved and didn't deserve to be outlaws. He never took anyone who stole from a general store because it would seem to him more like someone trying to fend for himself and his family (if the quarry had any).

Sighing Damian took off his hat and set it down on the table with one hand, then a few coins on the table with another, calling out to the bartender. "Bartender, A drink if you don't mind, I'm parched from traveling out in the desert." Running a hand through his rust-colored hair he sighed calmly and hummed to himself as he watched the bartender bring a pint of beer to him, regarding one of the other customers as a sad drunk down on his luck.

"First impressions of a town don't lie." he said to himself, "This town is starting to get on it's feet. However if bandits and outlaws keep comin' an' scaring good folk, it ain't natural." He sighed and took a long sip of his pint before setting it down and watching the saloon with a heaving sigh, wandering if something will turn up to make his day a bit easier.

Damian's pint was empty before him on the empty table as he continued to look at it, deep in his thoughts that reflected upon himself and his past deeds. Despite the fact he was an ex bounty hunter looking for a more quiet job, he couldn't help but to think about the feeling of shooting his gun at an outlaw, a wrongdoer, someone crooked that needed to be punished. He sighed to himself, reflecting on the last few jobs he took as a bounty hunter.

Those memories were none that were good. It brought an unwarranted chill to his bones as he shook, recalling the chilling, yet enjoying last moment as the convict tried to run, but was then given a slug to the back. It made him happy and bitter at the same time. That's one of the reasons something like bounty hunting was unforgiving, one must be required to steel your soul.

Getting up from the table he wandered to the bartender and gave him a few coins. "Thanks for the welcome beer, I hope to stay here awhile and help this town grow." He said in a kind, yet travel weary voice as he wandered to the doors and walked out. He looked about the town looking for the Sheriff's office. He wanted to introduce himself and make known to him that his services were available as a possible deputy.

If that didn't work, well, he'd have to figure out if he had to find a job in the town to fall back on or he came to this town for nothing. He sighed to himself in frustration as he wandered to the fence railing to lean on it. He looked at his horse who was drinking from the water. "I know boy, I know you're tired. We'll find a place to sleep soon. Trust me." He said to the horse as if he was trying to tell him wordlessly that, 'Well, we're here, but now what?'

Bonnie Bohannon stood behind her desk, arms folded across her chest as she idly played with the edge of  the lace collar of her cotton blouse, the smile of her slightly sun kissed face emanating her happiness as she surveyed the new school house. It was wonderful, the room was light and airy, with colourful pictures lining the walls along with shelves full of books, the freshly painted white walls and oak stained floors along with the flowers in vases on the windowsill was a vast difference from usual stuffy and gloomy school house which she had previously worked in. Yet here she was, stood in her very own classroom where she could begin to help bring some hope for a better future to the children of Splitcreek. Bonnie couldn't help the small laugh at her last thought, she sounded like one of those heroines from the adventure novels she enjoyed reading, with a happy sigh the flaxen haired woman gathered her things and walked down the middle aisle of the school house, turning to lock the door behind her. 

Bonnie smiled brightly as she walked through the grassy school yard back towards the town, she could not put into words how happy she was here, although she did have apprehensions about travelling out West but the fresh start was proving to be a good move, she enjoyed this ever growing dusty town, their was never a quiet day and it was a challenge, she like a challenge. 

Stepping out onto the the dirt road, she suddenly jumped back as a man galloped wildly across her path, dropping her books in the process she shook her head, although she loved the town, the inhabitants were another story. "Wonderful" she drawled in her soft southern voice as she bent down to pick up the books she had dropped. Standing up she dusted off her maroon coloured skirt and continued over the road at a quicker pace. Stepping up onto the boardwalk she walked over to the saloon where she would hopefully have a quiet drink and something to eat, although when was anything quiet around Splitcreek. 

As she reached the saloon she noticed a new face standing outside looking over towards the sheriffs office "is everything okay?" Bonnie asked the stranger with her usual large smile and happy demeanour.

Damian was lost in his own mind, from looking at his horse and to the sheriff's office as he sighed with a small dissatisfaction. He rubbed his face, feeling the stubble on it as he then heard something that made him jerk up in a startle. He turned to look and looked at the source of the voice who spoke to him in a kind and cheerful manner. His jaw almost dropped when he saw the beauty of the woman from her hair and eyes. He took his hat off in the tradition of his saying hello to women.

"Well, if you call just coming into town and feeling as weary as a thirsty buffalo alright." he said in a tired voice. "I'm new to this town, and I was half wondering where I can find a place to rest my head." He stated, and as he was gonna continue to explain his stomach started to grumble and groan. "Aw hell stomach, one pint didn't fill ya? Pardon me, I must now be getting hungry. Took me long enough to do so anyway. living off of boiled beans for several days travel makes one hungry."

Damian calmly cleared his throat whilst his horse gave a small whinny at him as if he was laughing at him which caused him to raise his eyebrow at his mount. "Laugh it up Abram. Laugh it up." Sighing he turned to the woman again. "Anyway, I never did catch your name."

Bonnie smiled warmly as the man swiftly removed his hat in greeted, it was good to see chivalry was not a lost cause, she listened as he spoke, from his accent she could tell that he too was a fellow southerner and so that was a comforting fact to know. "Well there's a boarding house just down the road next to the saloon, it's no ritz but it's the best we have I'm afraid" she laughed lightly.

Upon the stranger mentioning food, she took in his thin appearance looks like the poor fellow could do with a good hearty meal "the saloon has a good cook" she smiled before laughing along with the man accusing his horse at laughing at him, reaching out she affectionately stroked the horses long nose "and the livery is just at the end of town where this one can get some rest" she continued.  

"oh forgive me, I'm Bonnie Bohannon and you are?" The blonde asked, out stretching her hand for him too shake. 

Looking behind the stranger Bonnie caught sight of a large group of men riding into the town, frowning she shook her head upon seeing Jan Hass leading them, this did not look good, biting her lip slightly she watched as Jan dismounted and went inside Jethros place "excuse me I need to get the marshal" she spoke quickly before rushing across the road towards the sheriffs office to find the Marshal, failing to see Morgan who was also hurrying down the boardwalk.

Hurrying inside she called his name "Alex?"

"Well pleasure to make your acquaintance Miss Bonnie, My name is-" Damian started to say when his possibly newfound friend had to hurry to the Marshall's office, as if she was in a hurry to see him and tell him something. He frowned to himself and slowly finished the sentence he started out. "Damian Kovacs. Aw heck, why don't I ever talk when it matters, you know what I mean Abram?" he asked his horse in a bit of a peeved manner. Sighing he let the subject drop when he saw a Horseman riding back with a tied-up woman in men's clothing.

"That must be the Marshall." Damian said to himself as he gave pause to think on what to do. "Should I go to him or should I not?" The question was answered for him when he saw the man dismount and talk to several people on a dispute. "Well he's got his hands full then... wait a minute, why didn't he take the prisoner with hi-? Aw Hell no! Opportunity comes knocking at that time for a little bit of a last attempt to escape!"

He then spouted several curses to himself before calming down. "No, I stopped being Nomad years ago. Not gonna start up being Nomad again... I'm going to get something t' eat, Marshall can just catch her again." He muttered to himself before putting on his hat and walking into the saloon once more, walking back to the table he was sitting at, pint and all, dropping some coins onto it as he sat back down. "Bartender, some of your hot food please, soup I reckon'll do." he called in his calm, tired voice.

Damian was starting to eat his soup when he saw the gentleman from before come in and muttered, "Even'n." when he came past him, and continued to eat. As he ate at his soup, he felt his past of being a bounty hunter slowly creeping up his spine. It was a chilling feeling to Damian, because being a bounty hunter causes more pain to one's self morality then anything else, for in the world of a bounty hunter is black and white, there are thieves and robbers and rapists and rustlers, then there's the good people of the town.

However, Damian's black and white world started to fade into gray the more he looked at the bad people who only stole in order to survive. That sank him down to a waist deep kind of guilt. Grim reality sank it's fangs in him, and his mind wandered to just staring at his food. Sighing, he continued his devouring of the soup, knowing that this bowl of soup represented the last of most of his earnings from the last town he had an oddjob in, and was therefore stuck to an almost penniless state.

"Gotta find an earning soon, maybe a barber. No too fancy and risky, my violent hunger would ebb away my sanity in a week." he muttered to himself. "I'll probably ask the Marshall if a deputy slot is open.." Nodding to himself he finished his soup and continued his staring down of the table, his mind drifting away to old memories that never fade.

Damian looked at the woman he talked too earlier when she was getting a confirmation of his name. "Yes'm. Damian. It's not that impressive of a name I know, but folks used to call me The Nomad, cause I drifted from wilderness to civilization and the other way around."

He chuckled and looked around a bit nervously the moment he said the word 'Nomad', for he knew if there was someone in the midst of the saloon that caught wind of the name would think that he was still a bounty hunter. "Heh, well Miss Bonnie, I'd recommend either the soup or any of the other dishes that settles one's weary stomach." Damian then slowly turned his head to focus on the table once more going into his pensive mood, his mind reflecting off his face through the past. "It's also good to wash some old aches and memories as well." he said to make a small comment.

He could say no more at that as his mind reflected on what he did and do for most of his life. Taking people wanted and dragging them back to jail or bringing something as proof of deceased. He nervously rubbed his neck as he kept most of those thoughts to himself.

Damian observed the man he nodded friendly to earlier that day examine a crazed drunkard. "He must be a Doctor then, or something along those lines." He thought. He then half wondered about if he should be of any form of assistance to what the subject about a Mr. Jan Hass getting ornery about some of his money or something being stolen and wanted to organize a posse to get it back. "Optimistic of them." He thought, "Men with a large amount of money or gold runnin away from civilization wind up disappearing by the time the sun sets and cold arrives."

He then looked at the reflection of himself on his soup spoon and rubbed along the side of his face. "Getting a bit rugged there. Need to shave right soon." He muttered to himself as he lowered the spoon. He rested his hand on the table and tapped on it in thought of what to do next. Meeting law enforcement of the town might not be a bad idea, befriending also other people in the town might also increase his reputation. Reputation as just regular Damian Kovacs and not Nomad. Nomad was not a friendly going man. Made a few enemies out of the outlaws he put away.

He also silently observed a saloon gal or some other patron for the bar come in and gave a friendly nod. Well saloon gals aren't a very good start but it's a small start for him.

This would be an interesting time for Damian should he stay long at Splitcreek.

Halley looked around in the saloon. She saw many people in there all, she was guessing, from different backgrounds and places. Everyone in there was holding a secret or past that was just dying to share its way out through the mouth of the holder and into the ears of a willing receiver. Halley looked around and saw a man looking at her. When he noticed that she saw him he gave her a friendly, welcoming grin. She smiled happily back at the patron and knew he was going to be her first customer of the day that she'd be undoubtedly serving in one way or another.

Halley made her way to the bar and looked at the inventory. She saw all kinds of whiskey, wine, beer, and other alcoholic beverages. She bit her lip and remembered how her gang always made sure to keep a full stock of drinks in their camp at all times. She stood up and straightened out her red and black ruffled dress. 'Perhaps he would be one of the nicer men in this town.' Halley thought to herself.

Halley was unsure of what to do with her shift at the saloon. She decided to look back in the bar for something to wash down the tables with. Halley went around behind the bar and found a small closet that held all the cleaning supplies. She looked for her item of choice and found it, an old rag. She poured a bit of water on it and went over to a table near the entrance to the saloon in the front. Halley began to rub the rag against the table, cleaning it from its state of dirtiest from before. Halley was bent over on the table trying to get the other side without having to walk around to it when some drunk, lifted up the back of her dress and spanked her. Halley jumped at the slaps and squirmed begging for the man to stop. The man kept on his joyful playing, so Halley had no choice to stomp on the man's foot hard, causing him to clutch it in pain as she made her way out the door. She needed to take a breather for a moment. As she was pacing just outside the entrance to the saloon, she lifted her head up as the sound of horses running, gun fire, and yelling filled the air. Halley saw two men dash by wickedly fast, one dragging a poor man behind them. She backed up quickly against the siding of the saloon and watched as one cut the rope releasing the man, and they ran off out of her sight.

Bonnie smile at the Doc before turning back towards her drink, which today was a great glass of bourbon, she took Damian turning away from her an indication that he didn't want to talk, not that she blamed him, poor fellow looed exhausted "well if you need anything I'll more than likely be at the school house" she smiled offering him the friendly gesture for him to take or leave as he pleased. Bonnie didn't know how long he was planning on staying for in Splitcreek but she figured it would perhaps make this town a little less daunting for the man, though she figured he had probably seen worse places.

Emptying her glass, the blonde frowned before rubbing her throbbing head, today had been so long but at least everything at the school was completed, now all that was left to do was inform the children of the town and try and persuade their parents that it was a good idea to let their children get an education. For her that would be given, but you'd be surprised how many parents discouraged the idea, shaking her head she shook those thoughts away, they were for tomorrow. "Jack can I have another bourbon please?" she asked with a small tired smile, sliding a silver dollar across the bar.

With a sigh, Bonnie ran a hand through her hair as she observed the people around her, people chatting idly as they played games of cards and drank heavily. She knew she didn't belong here, people quite often told her personally but she would smile sweetly and tell them to shove it where the sun don't shine, she wasn't as fragile as people assumed, the war not only changed men but women too.

Waiting for her drink, Bon drummed her nails on the bar only to hear the shattering of glass coming from outside, startled she jumped slightly before going to see what had caused the noise, frowning to see it was a drunken man on his knees amongst the glass, she picked up the hat that was beside him, holding it out for him "this yours?" she waiting for him to take, her eyes quickly searching for the sheriff, he he saw this the man would spend the next 24 hours in jail.

Damian jumped halfway out of his seat as he looked around sharply, his eyes becoming alert as he heard the noises of gunshots and yellin' out of things he didn't catch. he pulled the bowl of soup he had to him as he then started to drink it all down his throat, something bad was going on, and his soul ached to find out what it was. His faded green eyes had a look of frenzy and wild excitement as he stood up again and walked out of the saloon. His immediate sign of greeting was a poor man, beat to near death with cuts and abrasions from a dragging and a whipping, or just a whipping.

"Never mind." he thought to himself. "Answers soon, for nothing's unsolvable. I've got a twinge of fear going in my spine if I don't get a job as deputy or otherwise, this town's going to chaos."

He slowly calmed down again when somehow he heard a nervous and frightened voice. He turned around and saw a man holding the saloon girl he gave a friendly nod to dangerously close to him, hand to his gun. Anger slowly boiled up, pent up urges blocked by a two year scorning for it was rushing into him like a flood in the desert. A sense of righteous cause slowly made him walk slowly like a cat to a mouse, pulling his gun slowly from his holster.

When he got close enough, he threw his free arm in an attempt to wrap the offending man around the neck in a chokehold, pulling the hammer of his gun and pointing it to his skull.

"Knock knock, mind if the Nomad cuts in?" Damian spoke in a venomous tone. "Gun on the floor unless you want room for an eye at the side of your head you ignorant rapist pig dog from the bowels of hell and back. Get your phalanges of the girl too unless you want to look at the world backwards. Not joking."

Halley got out from the man's grip, when the kind man she had waved at in the saloon stepped in and saved her. She pinned herself against the wall worried she might get hurt by either one of the men. Halley looked at the man who was going to try and take her and saw something on the end of his coat. It was a tiny tag that read Freddy. Halley remembered that in her old gang they sometimes had their names etched into their coats, but more often than never, were the names a cover or alias designed to trick any law enforcement, if they should have ever found an article of clothing, that indeed belonged to them. Halley knew that if this man truly was going to take her he was from a gang, and if he was from a gang, chances were that he had back up running around here.

She made a horrible decision and placed her hands calmly on the kind man's back. "Mister he's my cousin sir. He was surprisin' me from coming to Splitcreek fer the month. Freddy come on, we gotta gets goin' anyways." She said in a shaky, yet convincing voice. She pushed the man's gun down lowering it from his head. If she saved the man's life then it would save hers, she knew this for a fact.

Halley knew how to deal with gangs of outlaws. She knew that if a member was killed the gang would do anything to track down and kill the person responsible for it, and sometimes even people or witnesses as well. She knew that by saving the man she wouldn't be tracked done or hunted like a dog, but on the other hand she knew that he was going to take her and do who knows what to her. But it was either that or death, and she chose whatever he had planned for her. Perhaps he was from a nicer gang, or at least, a better one than the one that she had recently escaped. It seemed to her that she just seemed so attractive and worthy to be part of a gang of criminals and outlaws lately.

Freddy Williams

Williams smiled when the very girl he was trying to kidnap actually helped him. The thought of having his brains covering the wall did not sit well with Freddy and he'd have to thank her later when they were gone from town.

'' That I am.. Why don' you ask next time..'' Williams grunted and took a step back taking Halley by her hand. He gave her hand a light squeeze and a fake smile before he motioned for her to get moving. He'd rather not stay to get himself filled with lead or thrown into a cell. Bell's orders of not staying too long could have been something to follow more closely in later raids, if he was allowed to help out again.

'' Let's go cus' ain't wanna' keep ol' ma' waiting now.'' He said in a cheerful voice as he began pulling her with him away from the saloon and the god damned gunslinger with a taste for glory decided to play hero again. He passed the corner with quick steps and when they were shielded from the people by the alley his grip got tighter and his steps faster as he made his way back to his horse. When he approach his horse Williams didn't give her a chance to say anything before he pulled an old burlap sack out from the saddlebag and put over her head. With quick hands he hogtied her hands and feet before throwing her over the back of his horse, untied the reins from the pole nd mounted up. Poor gal was probably scared to death by now.

'' Don' you worry m'am.. I ain't gonna' hurt ya'... right now.'' He laughed and landed a hard slap on her bottoms before he got his horse moving. Williams put his spurs into the side of his mount and quickly got it to shoot across the desert, his one hand holding onto Halley's dress to make sure she wouldn't fall off.

It wasn't long before he had ridden far enough in a wrong direction so he could start to make his way back to camp. He waved his rifle in the air to stop a certain triggerhappy man called Willy Gunsmoke for putting a bullet in him thinking he was one of the lawdogs. A shot fired up in the air was returned to him as a greeting and he bagan to slow down and by the time he reached Willy's little place his horse was calmy walking and biting on a few patches of grass as he passed them.

'' Williams I should just gone putting one of 'em bullets in ya brain for not doin' what the Boss told ya'.'' Willy said and chuckled as he got up, inspecting the gal over the horse's back. Freddy eyed the man and noticed he was wearing a duster and new hat. Where the hell did he get new clothes?

'' I got a lil' present for Bossman, I think he's gonna' be mighty happy with it.. Say where did ya' get them new clothes?'' Williams said and reached for Gunsmokes' hat put the sentry dodged his hand and took a step back. He seemed to be proud as a farmer with a prize winning hog as he pointed over to a couple of small bushes barely covering the body of a man, now almost naked.

'' We got ourself one of 'em Marshals! Hit him right between the eyes!'' Willy almost shouted and started to laugh as he sprinted over to the body to give it a kick in the side, something Williams was sure he'd be doing for quite some time now. Untill Bell told the crazy man to get rid of the corpse. He had to admit, Willy was one hell of shot. He smiled at the eccentric Willy who almost skipped back to his little camp and lit a cigar, probably a reward for a clean shot.

'' I bet ya' feel mighty proud of yesself' don't ya'? But I reckon I better haul my sorry hind back to Bell.'' Williams said and got his horse moving again. When he got to the outskirts of the camp he was created by none other then Bell with his meathead Baker next to him. The look on Bell's face made Williams go pale and he noticed that Baker cocked his gun.

'' Don' shoot boss! I got ya' a present!'' He said and jumped down, leading his horse over to Bell. He could feel his body start to relax as Bell motioned for Baker to put his gun away.

'' Well well... Mighty kind of you Williams.. Now get out of my sight you son of a whore!'' Bell roared and slapped the man over the face before he grabbed Williams by the collar and almost threw him into the camp. With confident steps Bell made his way to the horse and just pulled the poor girl down from the horse, letting her fall to the ground. As Baker took the reins and started to lead the horse away Bell bent down and pulled off the sack covering his new toy's face.

''Welcome to your new home..'' He said and laughed.

"Lied to.... I let myself get force fed it... stupid stupid stupid. She may have saved my life but she also ended her own, this town is afraid of crime, that girl will probably either be raped or killed in less then a week or more." Damian thought bitterly. He sighed openly, nearly penniless and jobless, his first day in Splitcreek left a bad taste in his mouth. He wanted to badly go after the varmint who decided to force feed the lie, but that would mean going back to his bounty hunting ways. He didn't want it, he no longer allowed himself to bounty hunt.

But why fight for the people when all they do is try to not let him get the bad end of a gun? Why was it that today's event sparked old memories? He felt sick inside. He never could keep his beer down when he thought bitter thoughts. "Doggone it!" he muttered to himself. He wandered to Abram and thoughtfully patted the horse's mane as he saw the doctor tend to the poor near-dead man as best he could. Even if it was a futile effort, at least the poor soul wouldn't die alone in a way.

Reaching inside one of his saddlebags he pulled out a small wooden cross, a gift from a kind young child when he went to look around Dodge City for work before wandering further west to Arizona. He pressed the cross to his lips and placed it back in the bag, before turning around and starting to mutter in a calm, yet pained voice, "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want, he maketh me lie down in green pasture, yea, though I walk to the valley of the shadow of death I fear no evil, for Thou art with me. Rest in peace."

Sighing and taking Abram's reins, Damian walked to the nearest Inn he could see, and leaving his horse outside, took a small pouch from his saddlebag and walked into the inn. Walking to the front desk and dropping two or three coins which he pulled from the pouch he brought, was then given his room key and the book to sign. He signed his name as Damian Kovacs and walked up the stairs.

"I think I'll take a small nap before I get up and figure my next phase of my plans of residence here." He said to himself. He entered the room that was marked with the same number as his key. "Room 13. Boy, I am not lucky today." he muttered as he walked into the room and took off his hat and sand stained coat and settled down into a chair, and staring at the wall as if watching the very paint dry, whereas in his own thoughts, he was looking at a different picture entierly.

The man looked down at Halley, as she looked up at the seemingly giant man atop the horse. Halley was offered a rather big hand, that belonged to the Marshall. She put her small petite hand in his and was lifted up onto the horses rear. His horse seemed rather small and a bit old compared to other horses she'd seen, but nevertheless, she did not complain about the random act of kindness she had been given by the town's new Marshall. She watched from the seat in the saddle, as the man dismounted and untied a mat and tied it back onto the rear end of the horse. It looked like a little make shift saddle fit for a lady of her size. She scooted back from the saddle and onto the seat as Samuel mounted up again on the steed.

As they rode off through the desert back to town, Samuel talked about how his sister looked liked herself a bit. Halley smiled at how kind and sweet the man seemed. She liked that and thought he would be the hero in town, even though he might risk his life for the safety and well being of others, being the Marshall and all, but it was comforting to know that, maybe the next time, a ruthless gang rides into town, they won't leave without a warning. She giggled softly at the Marshall's remark about the saddle and replied over the hooves of the horse, "It's quite alright, Mr. Marshall sir, it suits me just fine, thank ya." She smiled even though she knew he very well, could not see it, but gave him one all the same.

Halley looked out onto the horizon, looking for any sign of anything that might tell her where the hideout to the Bell Gang was. She was always blind folded, from when she had entered and exited their camp site. Even if she knew where the camp site was, she knew better than to tell anyone. She knew from experience that if she said to any type of law enforcement the whereabouts of their location. They would send whoever they could on a manhunt for her, kill her or do worse, in cold blood and revenge for her big mouth. She kept her mouth shut for most of the ride and listened intently to the Marshall make small talk.

As they got to the town, the Marshall began saying, "We'll be in town shortly Miss. I'll be dropping you by the Silver Spur, good place for a hot meal and a clean bed. If you haven't the funds for tonight theres a good looking fella what tends the bar down there name of Jack Westfield. He's a good man tell him to put whatever you need on my credit and I'll take care of it come tomorrow, I've some more business too attend." She smiled and was touched at how kind this man was.

She gave him a small squeeze of a hug and said, "Thank you so much for your kindness, Mr. Marshall. It's mighty kind of ya." She couldn't stop smiling at how nice he was. 'He is going to be a great Marshall, perfect for this town.' Halley thought as he rode up to the front of the Silver Spur. He dismounted and lifted her off his horse, placing her down on the ground softly.

"You stay safe now little Miss, you need anything you come for me or Sheriff Hadwin, we'll keep in touch." He said firmly with a smile. She reached up and gave him a kiss on the cheek quickly and replied, "I promise I'll try, Sir. And thank ya for the ride too. I'll see you soon Mr. Marshall." She smiled and made her way up the steps and into the saloon, as Samuel rode off to carry out his many new duties.

Halley kept her head down avoiding everyone's eyes in the saloon, blushing wildly from her embarrassment of his apparel. She darted into her room. And changed throwing her men's clothes onto the bed and changing into her dress. She let out a sigh of relief and flopped on the bed, relieved to be safe and sound in the saloon again, and in her normal clothes. Halley was surprisingly looking forward to be resuming her work in the Saloon. She put on her shoes, and fixed herself up to be presentable once more. She opened the door and went out into the saloon.

Halley looked around for her boss and saw him and a doctor, tending to the poor, nearly dead man, with his eyes and tongue cut out. She shuddered thinking that that could have been her. She couldn't believe that Mr. Bell would do that to him, but then again men like him and his gang were very unpredictable, there was no telling what was going on in their head.

Halley looked around again looking for the man, who went by the name of Damian. He had tried to save her, but she didn't want him to get hurt or she herself injured because he tried to take on Williams. She felt bad and knew that he thought that she was probably dead by now. She went to work and waited on a table of drunks, and thought that maybe she'd see Damian again in the Saloon, then she could give him a drink on the house, for trying to help her out.