Reload 1: Back in Town

The heat in the dust-choked border town of Oakhaven was nothing like the damp, smoggy chill of San Francisco. For six months, the silence had been the hardest thing to get used to.

Vadars leaned back against the tire of Shirley, wiping grease off his hands while watching Janda flick tiny, suspended droplets of water into the air to cool himself down.

"You're wasting energy," Janda muttered without looking up.

"I'm fine-tuning," Vadars shot back, tapping the freshly reinforced frame of his bike. "Navier put his soul into this engine before we pulled out of the Bay. The least I can do is make sure it doesn't sound like a dying lawnmower."

"Do you even know what you're doing?"

"Absolutely not." A gear popped out and Vadars cursed.

"I swear to Death that if you just broke your bike..." Janda muttered.

"I didn't! It's just a gear." Vadars straightened himself. "Besides, we're right next to a town. We just have one simple job and then we're out. No need to worry you big oaf."

Janda scoffed before heading into Oakhaven. The town itself wasn't grand or spectacular like San Francisco but much more old-fashion. Dirt roads, wooden infrastructure, plenty of horses and merchants up and about to run business and cowboys and other shady characters in their own affairs. They eyed the Killright with sore glares but Janda kept cool. He had changed after the six months, his hair growing out evenly. Now, two bangs floated over his face, his nasty eye scar visible to the world. The back of his hair was put into a tie.

"Wait up!" Vadars shouted and bashed in Janda. They fell over and Janda glared, kicking Vadars. 

"What the hell is your problem?!" he yelled.

"What the hell is yours?" he replied in equal volume.

"You were busy standing around like an idiot like always." Vadars spat. "I thought you stopped daydreaming like an idiot."

"We're getting off track." Janda got up, rolling his arm. "We should getting to the sheriff's department."

"Since when are you so dedicated to the job?" Vadars asked, eyebrow raised.

"Somebody has to have the maturity here," Janda replied and began to head to the sheriff's building. Vadars shook his head and followed his colleague. They passed street vendors and performers, salesmen with dark intentions and a tiger-dog hybrid. A circus group rolled a cage with a insanely huge Barmybear, a unique desert bear that is rarely docile. Pushing past shoulders and carts, they finally arrived at the department. It was wide in length and single story. The surrounding area was almost deserted. It was common to see amongst towns; law was always a bad sight as they were just as bad as the criminals they persecuted.

Janda and Vadars entered the building abruptly, synchronized in step. Vadars realized this and hobbled a bit to get out of Janda's step rhythm.

"Killrights West Division Branch 1, Janda Elliot. We're here for the sheriff around here so bring his ass out before I start getting mad."

And I thought he had changed, Vadars thought.

"I'm here!" a little body literally rolled out and hopped. The man was no taller than Janda's knees and had a cartoonishly big moustache. His hat was large and so was the pistol on his hip. "I'm Hubert Shoebuckle, I'm the person who requested you to help me."

"Shoebuckle?" Vadars asked with a confused face.

"I get that a lot," Shoebuckle replied. "It's me ma's surname and my pa loved her so they kept it."

"You come from an odd bunch of folks," Janda replied.

"I also get that a lot. But the mission, yes." The sheriff waddled over and gave them a wanted poster of a stern faced man. His neck was thick, his hair long and blonde swept back, his huge chest wrapped in a vest and tattoos hatching across his skin like a museum work of a madman. "His name is Gallows Vance, leader of the Paithons. He may be a new face but don't let it fool you, he's the nastiest man I have ever dealt with."

"He looks ugly," Janda said.

"Uglier than you," Vadars chortled before getting whipped in the face by a punch. Vadars punched back but before an altercation could arise, Shoebuckle loudly cleared his throat, demanding attention.

"Please, focus on the mission."

Vadars and Janda scoffed before forcing their attention back onto the sheet of paper. 

"So you want us to kill this guy," Janda said.

"No! Heavens no! That's much too brutal," Shoebuckle said, waving his hands about. 

"'Wanted for trafficking, gang wars, violence, murder, illegal trade...' We kinda have to kill him."

"Dude! We kill Desperados!" Vadars shouted.

Janda rolled his eyes. "Fine, just don't expect his face to look any better. Where is he right now?"

"He should be hanging about in one of the bars. He recently ordered out the brothel's entire catalogue of women. His power is simply nothing to sneeze at. Please, do be careful young men."

"Don't you worry, short dude!" Vadars grinned. "We'll get those guys out for you in no time. You count everything on me though. Just make sure to fund all the payment into my account and not this half-baldie nimrod's."

"Ignore the clown," Janda said before making a dash to the location. The race began and Vadars was already behind. With a frustrated huff, Vadars made way and chased after Janda. 

The sprint through the city was brief. As they approached the saloon at the distant end of Oakhaven, the vibrant frontier vibe started to diminish. Street vendors hurriedly packed up, lowering wooden shutters over their goods. 

Two local cowboys slipped into an alleyway as soon as they heard the muffled, chaotic noise resonating from the two-story wooden structure in front of them. The tall blonde man featured on the wanted poster didn't merely lease the brothel; his gang had essentially commandeered the whole block. 

Janda came to a stop at the base of the saloon steps, his bangs moving gently in the arid desert wind. Within, music dissonantly echoed, paired with the loud thump of boots on surfaces and the breaking of glass.

Vadars hurriedly arrived, coming to a halt next to him without a breath out of sync. He repositioned the strap of his Death Arm, gazing up at the fortified wooden doors with an increasing, perilous grin. 

Janda stopped at the foot of the porch steps, staring up at the swinging double doors. The bass from a saloon piano buzzed through the floorboards.

"So," Vadars gritted, cracking his neck left then right until his spine popped. 

"Are we being professional, or are we going in through the wall?"

"I’m walking through the door," Janda said coolly. "You do whatever stupid thing you’re planning."

"Wall it is."

Janda busted through the doors with great strength and Vadars decimated the wall. Inside revealed the messy and unsightly bar of women, bandits and booze flooding the floors. Faces of different shapes and sizes glowered at the two young men. In the centre of it all was Vance, a well-sculpted arm over the shoulder of two women at his sides. 

"Party's over!" Vadars yelled, deploying his Death Arm, HE-V, from his back. "It's either you punks wrap this up or I'll be sending you to kingdom come."

"Who the hell do you think you kids are?" a man shouted.

"Yeah!" one agreed. "We're the Paithons!"

"And we're Killrights! We're government police if you didn't know!"

"You lawdogs can go suck a fat one!"

"Who the hell said that?! Bring yer ass here!"

"Silence!" Vance shouted and the room shut into silence. Janda and Vadars eyed the powerful man who shoved the women away and walked over to them. He was tall, taller than Janda, and a distinct aura about him that made him somebody that commanded respect no matter the being. "If I remember correctly, Killrights only take on Desperados. Am I that much of threat that you guys have to stop me?" a toothy grin splayed on his lips. "I'm honestly flattered. Rising starts always shine the brightest. But, I'm not in the mood to be flaunting my guns so let me cut you a deal: scatter and let my men and I be happy. We ain't causing much trouble."

"We're not here to negotiate," Janda said. "I'm not gonna ask again so listen up. You're going to ask your men, one by one, to line up and put on some cuffs. If you don't comply, you'll be praying to wake up the next morning not as a vegetable."

"Ballsy, aren't ya? You and what army?"

"Well, that was easy," Vadars said, kicking in the face of an unconscious thug. The bar had been separated of frightened women and men out cold. Vance, body on the ground but mind conscious, began letting loose a stream of tears. Approximately 92 bones were broken and two pints of blood were lost. Vadars had dealt the most damage but Janda threw in his fair share of blows. 

"Please... no more..." Vance begged.

Vadars crouched down and placed his ear out. "Huh?"

"No more..." Vance whispered.

"HUH?! I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"

"NO MAS!!"

"Good. At least you know how things are ran. And they're definitely ran without you."

Vadars winded up a punch and let loose followed by a deafening shriek.