Somebody Else Needs to Get On That FANFIC!
May. 8th, 2011 06:04 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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Just Kidding ... I do feel like a spammer sometimes ... Here's another 100 Tales.
Wind
Hannibal Heyes glanced upwards for the fifth time in as many minutes.
"Heyes, will you quit worrying?"
"Can't help it, Kid. I'm a city boy. This damn prairie weather leaves me all abroad!"
Kid Curry sighed and kicked his pinto into a trot. Heyes, his eyes on the sky, didn't notice for a moment, and his chestnut hauled irritably at the reins.
"Dammit, Kid, wait up!" He gave the horse his head, and pulled alongside his partner.
"Heyes, even if that storm does blow this way, there are plenty of gullies to take shelter in."
Hannibal Heyes stared wide-eyed at the other youngster. Shelter ... in a gully? Outside? During a thunderstorm? He shivered violently.
"Oh, for Pete's sake, Heyes, you ain't gonna melt if you get a little wet! We got tarps, you know."
"But what if there's lightning?"
The Kid rolled his eyes. "Damnation, your Ma and Pa sure spoiled you. I can't believe you never even went camping."
"Why would I want to?"
Kid Curry stared at him for a moment, then turned back to guide the pinto toward the distant line of green marking the river. "Heyes, I ain't even gonna try to answer that. If you're planning to be an outlaw, you're gonna have to learn how to rough it."
Hannibal Heyes stuck out his bottom lip and stared at the back of his horse's head. "The idea is to make enough money to afford a decent hotel room."
"Yeah, well right now we got a grand total of seventeen cents between us, so you can just get that idea out of your head. At least until that mail coach comes through."
Heyes brightened at the thought of the coach. The mine had tried to keep things quiet, but a professional -- and Hannibal Heyes was a professional -- could always ferret out the truth. The payroll was going to be delivered with the next mail, disguised as just another package. It would have been a perfect plan except for the fact that they were up against one Hannibal Heyes.
He and the Kid had found the perfect ambush site, where the coach had to pass through a narrow canyon. All they had to do was set off the dynamite at either end, trapping the coach inside, and hold them up from the safety of the rocks. Heyes glanced upwards yet again. Assuming, of course, that they could keep the dynamite dry if that blasted storm hit.
A clap of thunder overhead practically paralyzed him. He managed not to fling himself from the saddle and start digging like a prairie dog to escape the storm. He stared wide-eyed at the Kid. "We should get.... somewhere!"
"Heyes, that had to be at least three miles off!"
"We gotta stay away from trees because lightning -- it was?" Hannibal Heyes narrowed his eyes. "Just how did you come up with that figure?
"Easy." The Kid pointed to the horizon. The sky lit up. He counted out loud. "One second, two seconds, three seconds ... When he got to fourteen, the rumble of thunder sounded overhead.
"Every five seconds is about a mile."
"I'm impressed, Kid. That's a mighty useful trick." He watched the horizon and counted under his breath after the next flash. "Ha! Two miles."
His eyes widened. "It's getting closer!"
"Lord, Heyes, do I need to make you a dolly to hold?"
"Kid, you are getting perilously close to finding yourself in a fist fight."
Kid Curry did not look impressed. "Considering you're the size of a bantam rooster, I think I can take you. And if you don't quit whining, I might just turn you over my knee."
Hannibal Heyes flung himself from the saddle. "That's it, partner! Get down here and take your punishment."
The Kid rolled his eyes. He opened his mouth, and then his jaw dropped.
"Heyes, get back on that horse -- now!"
"No way, Kid, you got this coming."
"Heyes, there's a damn tornado headed our way!"
Heyes practically levitated back onto the horse. The animals were already prancing, hearing the odd whine in the distance, and it took little to urge them into a gallop. They headed for the nearest gully. Heyes glanced back over his shoulder. The black clouds had a yellow tinge. A fat black rope writhed across the horizon -- and the Kid was right. It was following them!
They spurred the horses down the banks of the gully at rather higher speed than was recommended. The Kid leaped down from the saddle and grabbed both their reins. Heyes scrambled off his horse and helped tie the animals to a tree in the deepest part of the gully.
The wind now roared like a freight train. Hannibal Heyes felt every hair on his body stand on end. His goose bumps had goose bumps.
"No time for the tarp," the Kid yelled. "Grab onto something!"
Hannibal Heyes threw himself to the ground and wrapped his arms around the base of the nearest tree. His heart pounded almost loud enough to be heard over the roar of the storm. The Kid sprawled on top of him, wrapped his arms around Heyes, and crushed him against the prickly bark of the cottonwood tree.
Heyes barely noticed the discomfort. The tornado sucked all the air out of the gully, and he struggled to draw breath. His eyes were so wide they hurt. He tried to blink, and couldn't move. He glanced upwards, shivering. The sky roiled overhead, black and green and yellow. Everything twisted in a great circle, hauling anything not nailed down up into the maelstrom. He could see tree branches and tumbleweeds. He thought he saw a jackrabbit fly past.
As suddenly as it began, the wind vanished. The sudden silence startled him. He took a deep breath and blinked several times. The Kid scrambled off him and went to check the horses.
Hannibal Heyes lay there for a moment, trying to suck some air back into his lungs. He suddenly became aware that a cold, soaking rain had accompanied the twister. He shoved himself to his feet and took stock of the situation. Rain dripped down his face and the back of his neck. His clothing was soaked through to his skin. He thought his boots might be full of rain. He shivered and hugged himself. An errant gust of wind dashed a handful of rain up his nose, and he sneezed.
Kid Curry glanced up from behind the horses. He'd unpacked both tarps, and was stringing them between the trees to form a rough lean-to. He stared at his partner, and burst into laughter.
"You look like a drowned kitten, Heyes!"
Heyes glared from beneath lowered brows and dripping bangs. "When I manage to get all this damn weather out of my clothes, you got a serious beating coming."
"C'mon. At least get under here out of the rain."
Heyes squelched over to the tarp. It did keep most of the rain off -- though the wind had an annoying tendency to whip sideways at random moments, dowsing them with cold water. He huddled miserably until the rain finally drizzled to a stop. He glanced up from beneath the dripping tarp. The clouds had faded from black to gray, and he could see patches of blue here and there.
Kid Curry clapped a hard hand on his partner's shoulder. "Well, you survived your first storm in the open, Heyes. Congratulations!"
He grinned. "Although camping out usually don't include tornadoes."
Hannibal Heyes ran a wet sleeve beneath his nose and sniffed. He was probably going to get a cold from all this damn water. He shivered again, thinking about that black, twisting snake.
"I hate camping," he muttered.
Wind
Hannibal Heyes glanced upwards for the fifth time in as many minutes.
"Heyes, will you quit worrying?"
"Can't help it, Kid. I'm a city boy. This damn prairie weather leaves me all abroad!"
Kid Curry sighed and kicked his pinto into a trot. Heyes, his eyes on the sky, didn't notice for a moment, and his chestnut hauled irritably at the reins.
"Dammit, Kid, wait up!" He gave the horse his head, and pulled alongside his partner.
"Heyes, even if that storm does blow this way, there are plenty of gullies to take shelter in."
Hannibal Heyes stared wide-eyed at the other youngster. Shelter ... in a gully? Outside? During a thunderstorm? He shivered violently.
"Oh, for Pete's sake, Heyes, you ain't gonna melt if you get a little wet! We got tarps, you know."
"But what if there's lightning?"
The Kid rolled his eyes. "Damnation, your Ma and Pa sure spoiled you. I can't believe you never even went camping."
"Why would I want to?"
Kid Curry stared at him for a moment, then turned back to guide the pinto toward the distant line of green marking the river. "Heyes, I ain't even gonna try to answer that. If you're planning to be an outlaw, you're gonna have to learn how to rough it."
Hannibal Heyes stuck out his bottom lip and stared at the back of his horse's head. "The idea is to make enough money to afford a decent hotel room."
"Yeah, well right now we got a grand total of seventeen cents between us, so you can just get that idea out of your head. At least until that mail coach comes through."
Heyes brightened at the thought of the coach. The mine had tried to keep things quiet, but a professional -- and Hannibal Heyes was a professional -- could always ferret out the truth. The payroll was going to be delivered with the next mail, disguised as just another package. It would have been a perfect plan except for the fact that they were up against one Hannibal Heyes.
He and the Kid had found the perfect ambush site, where the coach had to pass through a narrow canyon. All they had to do was set off the dynamite at either end, trapping the coach inside, and hold them up from the safety of the rocks. Heyes glanced upwards yet again. Assuming, of course, that they could keep the dynamite dry if that blasted storm hit.
A clap of thunder overhead practically paralyzed him. He managed not to fling himself from the saddle and start digging like a prairie dog to escape the storm. He stared wide-eyed at the Kid. "We should get.... somewhere!"
"Heyes, that had to be at least three miles off!"
"We gotta stay away from trees because lightning -- it was?" Hannibal Heyes narrowed his eyes. "Just how did you come up with that figure?
"Easy." The Kid pointed to the horizon. The sky lit up. He counted out loud. "One second, two seconds, three seconds ... When he got to fourteen, the rumble of thunder sounded overhead.
"Every five seconds is about a mile."
"I'm impressed, Kid. That's a mighty useful trick." He watched the horizon and counted under his breath after the next flash. "Ha! Two miles."
His eyes widened. "It's getting closer!"
"Lord, Heyes, do I need to make you a dolly to hold?"
"Kid, you are getting perilously close to finding yourself in a fist fight."
Kid Curry did not look impressed. "Considering you're the size of a bantam rooster, I think I can take you. And if you don't quit whining, I might just turn you over my knee."
Hannibal Heyes flung himself from the saddle. "That's it, partner! Get down here and take your punishment."
The Kid rolled his eyes. He opened his mouth, and then his jaw dropped.
"Heyes, get back on that horse -- now!"
"No way, Kid, you got this coming."
"Heyes, there's a damn tornado headed our way!"
Heyes practically levitated back onto the horse. The animals were already prancing, hearing the odd whine in the distance, and it took little to urge them into a gallop. They headed for the nearest gully. Heyes glanced back over his shoulder. The black clouds had a yellow tinge. A fat black rope writhed across the horizon -- and the Kid was right. It was following them!
They spurred the horses down the banks of the gully at rather higher speed than was recommended. The Kid leaped down from the saddle and grabbed both their reins. Heyes scrambled off his horse and helped tie the animals to a tree in the deepest part of the gully.
The wind now roared like a freight train. Hannibal Heyes felt every hair on his body stand on end. His goose bumps had goose bumps.
"No time for the tarp," the Kid yelled. "Grab onto something!"
Hannibal Heyes threw himself to the ground and wrapped his arms around the base of the nearest tree. His heart pounded almost loud enough to be heard over the roar of the storm. The Kid sprawled on top of him, wrapped his arms around Heyes, and crushed him against the prickly bark of the cottonwood tree.
Heyes barely noticed the discomfort. The tornado sucked all the air out of the gully, and he struggled to draw breath. His eyes were so wide they hurt. He tried to blink, and couldn't move. He glanced upwards, shivering. The sky roiled overhead, black and green and yellow. Everything twisted in a great circle, hauling anything not nailed down up into the maelstrom. He could see tree branches and tumbleweeds. He thought he saw a jackrabbit fly past.
As suddenly as it began, the wind vanished. The sudden silence startled him. He took a deep breath and blinked several times. The Kid scrambled off him and went to check the horses.
Hannibal Heyes lay there for a moment, trying to suck some air back into his lungs. He suddenly became aware that a cold, soaking rain had accompanied the twister. He shoved himself to his feet and took stock of the situation. Rain dripped down his face and the back of his neck. His clothing was soaked through to his skin. He thought his boots might be full of rain. He shivered and hugged himself. An errant gust of wind dashed a handful of rain up his nose, and he sneezed.
Kid Curry glanced up from behind the horses. He'd unpacked both tarps, and was stringing them between the trees to form a rough lean-to. He stared at his partner, and burst into laughter.
"You look like a drowned kitten, Heyes!"
Heyes glared from beneath lowered brows and dripping bangs. "When I manage to get all this damn weather out of my clothes, you got a serious beating coming."
"C'mon. At least get under here out of the rain."
Heyes squelched over to the tarp. It did keep most of the rain off -- though the wind had an annoying tendency to whip sideways at random moments, dowsing them with cold water. He huddled miserably until the rain finally drizzled to a stop. He glanced up from beneath the dripping tarp. The clouds had faded from black to gray, and he could see patches of blue here and there.
Kid Curry clapped a hard hand on his partner's shoulder. "Well, you survived your first storm in the open, Heyes. Congratulations!"
He grinned. "Although camping out usually don't include tornadoes."
Hannibal Heyes ran a wet sleeve beneath his nose and sniffed. He was probably going to get a cold from all this damn water. He shivered again, thinking about that black, twisting snake.
"I hate camping," he muttered.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-08 11:12 pm (UTC)The tornado was a good idea, and well written. Glad they took time to tether their horses!
(You call them youngsters, but to me that's rather vague, and I wasn't sure how to picture them. I'd have rather you put just how old they are.)
no subject
Date: 2011-05-09 12:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-09 02:43 am (UTC)I love me a young Heyes and Curry.
And you needn't fear, because I'm working on a very angsty piece right now. <3
no subject
Date: 2011-05-21 09:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-21 09:25 pm (UTC)Все прикольно сделано!
Date: 2011-06-30 10:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-26 06:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-15 10:40 am (UTC)