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Lefty, Post Apocolyptic Gun Slinger

April 8, 2008

Lefty stood on top of his crawler, battered brass spyglass to his right eye, scanning the distance. He whistled tunelessly to himself, the sound lost in the wind and sand swirling past him. Four men. Four men wasn’t so bad. He collapsed the spyglass and tucked it into one of the many pockets of his battered brown duster. Brass goggles protected his eyes from the blowing sand. Black hair was mussed into vague spikes by the constant wind, making the horn nubs fairly obvious. He stepped off the edge of his vehicle and started up the dune, big strap-covered boots digging into the sand as he walked. He checked to be sure his fingerless leather gloves were in place and grinned slightly as he mounted the slope.

The four men were circled around a metal door set in the ground, working away at it with a cutting torch. Lefty cleared his throat, “Hey fellas, don’t suppose you could… spare a drink?” voice with a light friendly drawl.

The men jumped and turned toward him, the one working the torch cursing. The leader of the group tapped him back to work and stood up to step over to Lefty. “No handouts here. What’re you doing out here, stranger? Not someone sneaking out a second door to deal with us, are you?” Hand settled on the gun at his side.

Lefty steps forward, holding his hands out to the side, “Nope, just passing through and hoping for a place to get out of the storm.”

The man eyes him up and down. The two lackies not working on the door step up to flank him. “I’m thinking you should turn around and head back where you came from.”

Lefty shakes his head a bit, violet eyes glinting with amusement behind the goggle lenses. “Nope, afraid I won’t be doing that. There’s a storm coming and putting a hole in a nice door like the just before a storm would be an awful shame.”

The leader started to draw his gun. Before he could finish clearing the holster, Lefty brought his head crashing into the bridge of the other mans nose, sending him crashing to the ground bleeding and cursing, gun lost into the sand. Lefty laughed and stepped into the man to the left, rolling around him for cover while drawing his revolver. He caught the back of the mans collar before he could follow him around and leveled his gun on the second man.

“I’d recommend you drop the gun and start runnin’ for cover,” said Lefty.

“I think you better shut your stupid mouth,” shot back the thug leveling his gun.

Lefty nodded his head to the right and the mans hand jerked, firing into the sand. Lefty twisted his pistol around and brought it down hard against the back of his human shields skull, then followed the hand down to catch his belt to give him a good toss into the shooter before he could finish recovering.

As the pair crashed to the ground Lefty grinned and brushed off his hands, only to take a crowbar to the back of the head. He staggered forward. “Damn it all! Ow! That bloody stings!” He turned to glare at the man who had stopped torching the door to attack him. The man was staring at the slight angle his crowbar had taken with the blow. Lefty pointed to the horn nubs on his head. “OBVIOUSLY not normal. OBVIOUSLY should grab your buddies and run before I decide to feed you that crowbar.”

The man stared at him for another minute, then grabbed his bleeding leaders shoulder and helped him up to start scrambling off into the distance. The shooter sorted himself out from his buddy, still cursing. Lefty holstered the revolver in a right under-arm holster and drew the sawed off breach barrel shotgun from his left thigh and leveled it at the man. “Help your friend up and follow after before I change my mind.”

The man glared, then slapped his friend awake and started off after the other pair. Lefty watched them go with an amused grin. “Wow, didn’t even have to waste a round. That must be the single worst group of bandits I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.” He shook his head and crossed over to the door, turning off the torch. He glanced around for a moment, then shrugged and picked up the tank for the torch and banged it against the door three times before giving a shout, “They’re gone now and now I’ve got a lovely cuttin’ torch to trade for a drink.”

There was a pause before the door slowly opened. Three men stood ready, guns leveled. Lefty already had his hands up. “Just sayin’, its a pretty good trade. And it’d be nice to get inside before the storm if you don’t mind a guest for the night.”

They stared a moment longer, then the old man behind them tapped his cane against the ground sharply. “Put down the guns and let him in. The least we can do is share a drink with him. And grab the torch, I’m sure we can find a use for it.”

Lefty grinned and bobbed his head at the man, “Thanks sir, I appreciate the gesture.” He the ducked his way into the doorway. Lefty stood a good six inches taller then the others, but the slight lanky hunch he walked with hid most of it. Somehow he managed to move smoothly even though he seemed to be shaped just a little off. As he walked a black scaled tale poked out from beneath his coat and started creeping its spike toward the flask on one mans belt. With out a word Lefty snagged the tail and shoved it back under his coat while he walked, friendly grin never slipping from his face.

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