Arrival

Chapter One: Savior of Appaloosa

The sun was high with not a single cloud to be seen. The weather was hot and dry, just like the west always was. In the distance, a train could be seen coming into the station.

Various types of ponies were on board the train. Some coming from the big city to sight-see or to visit relatives and friends. Others were coming to start all over. One pony in particular was doing just that. He wore the standard cowboy gear; blue jeans with brown chaps, a black button up shirt with a brown vest on over it, brown cowboy boots with spurs on the back, and a slightly smaller hat than the others. His name was Six Shooter, son of a banker from Manehatten.

“Now arriving at Appaloosa!” the conductor said. Everyone on board began to gather their bags and items. Six Shooter stood up and stretched. The long train ride was getting to him and having finally arrived at his destination was a relief.

Eventually, the train came to a stop and everyone that needed to get off departed. Shooter stepped out and gazed at the town. He was amazed at what he saw. This old town had various shops. He could see a place to buy food and supplies, one that sold weapons and ammo. He even saw the saloon that just sat a few yards away from the train station.

His stomach growled. Thinking that something to eat and drink would do him just right, he set out for the saloon.

As he got closer, he could hear shouts coming from inside. Shooter was just about to enter when the swinging doors suddenly opened and knocked him down. Three strangers, wearing the usual cowboy gear but with a bandanna wrapped over their face, walked out with their revolvers raised and waiting. One looked over at Shooter.

“Hey, we got ourselves a wannabe,” the one looking at Shooter said. The others turned quickly and took aim at him, but were interrupted when a shot was fired from a distance and made the three duck.

“Shit, it’s the sheriff!” another one proclaimed. The last of them whistled and a station wagon pulled up with two others at the front. The three got into the back and took off.

The sheriff ran over to Shooter, giving a deep sigh. “Damn, not again,” he muttered. He looked over at Shooter, who was still on the ground, and holstered his weapon, “You okay there, friend?” he asked as he helped him to his feet.

Shooter was too scared to verbally reply, so all he did was nod his head.

“Say Partner, I never seen your face around here before. Are you new?” the sheriff questioned.

Shooter took a few calming breaths before he replied, “I just got here today, sheriff.”

The sheriff crossed his arms and sighed, “Well Partner, you came here at a bad time. Appaloosa has gone to hell in recent months, ever since those bandits moved into the hills.” He paused for a moment to reach into a pocket on his vest and pulled out a cigarette, then offered one to Shooter.

“I don’t smoke, sheriff.” he said, waving it away.

The sheriff shrugged and put the rest away. He lit his cigarette and took a long drag, “I’m the eighth sheriff this town has seen in the last month.”

Shooter’s eyes widened at the comment the sheriff just shared. To think that these bandits have done that in the last month is unforgivable. And scary.

“I’m sorry, I never properly introduced myself. I’m sheriff Dawn Star,” the now known sheriff said, gesturing towards Shooter for a handshake, which he gladly took.

“My names Six Shooter,” Shooter replied while they shook hands.

“Nice to meet you Six Shooter. Now, what brings you to Appaloosa?” Dawn Star asked him as he threw his cigarette butt away.

Shooter smiled, “Well, I used to live in Manehatten, but I felt out of place there. The hustle and bustle of the big city was too much for me, so I decided to move out here.”

Dawn Star smiled along with him, “How about I give you a tour of the place?”

{~}

“Well, that’s just about it,” Dawn said as the two came to the last building at the end of the road. “This here is the sheriff’s office. You can come here if you are looking for work. I would be more than happy to help you out. There are times when a wanted poster will be up.” The sheriff pulled out another cigarette, lit it and took a drag.

“That’s mighty kind of you sheriff. I’ll think about it.” Shooter said as he started walking away.

The sun was now setting to bring in the night. Six Shooter walked away from Appaloosa and set up a small camp for the night. He started a fire and prepared himself a meal. After he was done eating he began to get situated for the night.

The next day came rather quickly. Six Shooter awoke when the light from the sun beamed directly into his eyes. He got up, stretched and packed away his gear.

On the short walk back to the town, he realized something, he never got that drink he wanted. Shooter made his way over to the saloon and this time no one came barreling out of the entrance and knock him over.

When he entered, the whole place went silent, everyone stopping what they were doing as they looked at him. Shooter looked at each individual with a nervous smile. After what felt like hours, the others deemed him as nothing and returned to what they were doing.

Shooter made his way to the bar. A muscular looking man sat behind the counter, cleaning out a cup. Without even taking his eyes off the dish, he spoke to him, “What can I get for you, stranger?”

Shooter placed five bits on the counter, “Give me a glass of some whiskey.”

The stool next to Shooter moved as someone sat down, “Make that two, Ale.” the stallion said.

The bartender, Ale, grabbed two clean glasses and set them on the counter, and after pulling out the whiskey bottle, poured each of them a glass. After the bartender set the bottle of whiskey down, Shooter helped himself to his glass, as did the man next to him.

“Howdy, stranger. What brings you to Appaloosa?” the man asked.

Shooter took a sip of his drink before replying, “I came here to start a new life.”

The man chuckled at his comment, “A new life, you say?” he downed his drink in one go, “And you choose to start it in the worst town.” he poured himself another drink.

Shooter sighed, “I heard about what’s going on around here, and it's a shame.”

“I know,” the man sighed as well, “someone needs to step up and do something about it.” The man reached for the bottle, but instead of pouring himself another glass, he drank what was left of it.

“Well, you have yourself a good day,” Shooter said. The man groaned in response as Shooter got up to leave. When he turned around, he accidentally bumped into someone.

“My apologies, mister,” He quickly said, but the person he collided with was furious none the less. Shooter had spilled the pony's drink all over himself. The pony grabbed Shooter and pulled him in close.

“You. Me. Outside. Now.” the angry pony spat. He shoved Shooter away and walked outside.

Shooter sighed and followed him. The two walked out into the middle of the street for a quick draw. The man from earlier came out too.

The pony that got his drink spilled on him growled, “I’m going to blow that head right off your shoulders.”

The two stood facing each other, anticipation building in the air.

“DRAW!” the man shouted.

Time seemed to slow around Shooter. He did not want to kill the pony so his best option is to disarm him. He concentrated on his opponents right hand. As soon as the man drew his weapon, Shooter took out his revolver and shot.

Shooter’s opponent held his hand and cried in pain as he walked away a broken stallion. The pony from the bar approached Shooter in awe.

“I didn’t even see you draw your weapon till you shot him!” he said, patting Shooter on the back.

Shooter smiled and rubbed the back of his head, but stopped when he realized something, “Excuse me, but I never got your name.”

“The names Dusty Wind, friend.” he said grabbing Shooter’s hand and gave him a violent shake. Dusty was wearing the same kind of outfit as Shooter, but he had a duster coat and a repeater rifle holstered on his back.

“So, how does it feel to be a wanted man?” Dusty asked.

Shooter froze like a statue, “Wanted?” he repeated, the color draining from his face.

Dusty Wind laughed at Shooters expression, “That stallion you dueled was no ordinary pony. He is a member of the bandits that I have been hunting for a while. And when he tells the rest, its only going to get worse from here on out.” Dusty rubbed his chin in thought, “Say, why don’t you help me out?”

I-I-I don’t know about that,” Shooter stuttered out.

“Well, the way I see it friend, you have no choice. That gang will hunt you down to the end of your days.”

Shooter hung his head in defeat. Dusty was right, he had no choice.

“Meet me back here tomorrow. We set out to scout out a known location of one of their camps.” Dusty said while he walked off.

Shooter sighed, he really dug himself a hole now.

{~}

The next morning came rather too quickly for Shooter. Before he even had a chance to get up and ready Dusty Wind came to his little camp and dragged him out. The two walked away from the town heading north. They crossed the open plains until they came upon a ravine.

The two followed a shallow slope to the bottom and hugged the walls until they came upon a small camp.

“This is the place.” Dusty said.

The two were hiding behind some large boulders just outside of the camp. Dusty unholstered his repeater from his back. Shooter took out his father's revolver.

The camp in front of them contained at least five tents. Each tent looked big enough to hold three grown stallions. Yet, there were only eight of them in total.

“Shit,” Dusty swore under his breath, “The rest of them must be out causing mischief while these ones are left behind to guard the camp. But…” He grew quiet as he thought.

“But what?” Shooter asked.

Dusty turned to look Shooter dead in the eye, “But why leave ponies behind to guard a camp? Unless there is something worth guarding!” Cash signs seemed to appear where his eyes used to be.

Shooter stopped himself from facepalming at this.

“Now remember kid, shoot to kill. Leave none of them alive.” Dusty said in a low and scary tone.

Shooter shook at this thought, “I don’t want to kill anypony.”

With that remark, he received a slap across the face, “You dumbass. If you leave one of them alive, that is another man that wants nothing more than to see you hanged by your entrails.”

The young cowpony stopped himself from delivering whatever he had to eat this morning to the ground.

“Also,” Dusty began looking over the rock to the camp, “These ponies have already been dead. Once you become a bandit, the only way to redeem yourself is through death's embrace.”

A shiver went up Shooters back.

The older cowpony sighed at his younger counterpart, “Its now or never kid.”

With that last remark, Dusty sprang from the rocks and opened fire on the first bandits in front of him. He dropped dead as the bullet passed through his skull. Soon the whole camp was out and firing at their location. Three bandits lay dead while the rest hide and shot over their cover.

Every once in awhile when the shooting stopped, Dusty would poke out, wait for someone to pop up and fire.

For Shooter, this seemed like it was a never ending nightmare. The loud shots from everypony's weapons. The shouting, the cursing...the screams!

This was all too much for the young pony. He was hyperventilating as the world around him descended into utter chaos.

Author's Note:

This is something that I did a long time ago. I do not plan to finish it as it was never intended to be published. But, I do want to know what others think.

Also, this is from Red Dead Redemption if you couldn't guess. I had to go through and change a few things around. If you see anything in there that mentions a human, please let me know so I can go back and fix it. Depending on how well this first chapter does, I might add more.

Till next time!

Carpe Diem

Rokkurin

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