An Excerpt: Chapter 2 of Hade Hollow by James Paradie

Alright guys, thanks for the response I got for chapter 1 last night. I really appreciate it. I was afraid that the heavy sexual content would offend some people, but that's why I always put ratings on these. Anyway, this one explains a little bit more about Hade Hollow. If you enjoyed the story, please share it with your friends on Facebook or Twitter, it really helps young writers like myself out. Thanks again!

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Rated T for Teen

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August 18^th, 1888

Description of killings: I did the job I was supposed to and did it like I was told to. Gloria Hesha, who went by the name of Ms. Lucille, killed by slicing her throat. Teddy Russen and Glen Becklen, deputies to Sheriff Harold, gunshots to the head. Should make your clients happy.

Favor: In jail, like you told me I would be. Supposed to be hanged tomorrow for my killings. Would like to get out as quietly as possible without killing anyone who’s not on the list, unless it’s exceptional. Some transportation would be greatly appreciated.

Next area: The Sheriff told me of some cabin about twenty miles from here. Said no one goes there due to this family being slaughtered there. I’m guessing since the only one who knows about telling me about the cabin is the deputies and the sheriff, I figured I’d have a good chance of staying there until my next task.

I will wait for your next word.

He folded up the piece of paper, stood on his cot, and set it on the barred window. He stood there and stared out the window for a second, but all he could see was a wall. He decided to get back down and sit on his cot. Some sleep sounded good to him. It wouldn’t be long before he got word of his next commands.

Sheriff Harold had to go and tell Russen’s wife and Becklen’s parents about their murders. Beclken’s father said that he wanted to be the executioner and watch Hade Hollow die, but wanted it slow and painful.

          “I want that sick son of a bitch to feel every bit of pain that we do,” he said.

          “You got it. Tomorrow you will get revenge for all the people he’s killed.”

          After he talked to the next of kin, he went to the saloon to see about the murder of Ms. Lucille. Nobody knew about it.

          The bartender even said, “You know, we’ve had so many bar fights I actually forgot that I said goodbye to him and I didn't even expect any wrong doing."

          “He looked friendly, didn’t he?”

          “Damn right he did. He looked like one of us. Nice folk. But he is as savage as those fucking Indians. How did he kill Ms. Lucille?”

          “Why do you want to know?”

          “She was my friend, Harold. The best damn friend I’ve ever had.”

          “He sliced her throat.”

          “I don’t want to see her body.”

          “You won’t. I took it out the back door. None of the girls saw it. Nobody did. Tomorrow I’ll have Damon put it up on the daily bulletin.”

          “There’s going to be a lot of people who want redemption, Sheriff.”

          “Don’t worry. They’ll get it. You want to know the scary part? He didn’t even seem scared about dying. It’s almost like he’s accepted his fate.”

          “If he wants it so bad, I say no, don’t give the bastard what he wants. Let him rot in jail.”

          The Sheriff shakes his head. “I can’t do that. Billy, Glen’s pa, wants him dead.”

          “Fine then.”

          Harold goes on to leave, but the bartender stops him. “Wait, Harold.”

          He comes back. “Yeah?”

          The bartender slides him a fifty dollar bill.

“Let me rough him up a bit. Just a bit. Lucille meant a lot to me and damn it, I don’t want that asshole to go to the depths of hell without a scratch from me.”

          Sheriff Harold looks to see if anyone’s eavesdropping and when he’s sure the coast is clear, he looks back at him.

“Two in the morning. The back door will be open. Keys will be on the stool by the door.” The bartender smiles, but Harold cautions him, “Don’t kill him. Break a bone, split his lip, but make sure you don’t kill him.”

          “Sounds good, Harry. And thank you.”

          Harold slides the 50 back to him. “Keep it. Times are getting rough here in Rawdin.”

 Later That Night

          Hade is asleep until he hears a slight ting of metal coming from above him. He stands on the bed and where the bars are, where he left his note, is a new note. He grabs it and unfolds it, sitting back down on his bed.

It simply says,

          It’s unlocked.
        He moves to the door of his cell and pushes it and as the note says, it is unlocked. He moves it slightly open and edges his way out to the back door. It’s locked.

          “Shit,” he says lightly to himself.

          He hears the sound of a click behind him, which only means that a gun has been cocked. He turns around and there’s the Sheriff right behind him.

          “Going somewhere?”

          “Yes.”

          “I don’t think so.”

          The Sheriff checks his pocket watch, its 2 am. He puts it back in his pocket.

          “There is quite a few people who want you dead. I want to give it to them.”

          “I was just doing my job.”

          “Yeah? I got to do my job too and that is protecting the citizens of Rawdin.”

          The back door unlocks and Harold knows that the bartender will be coming in and that he will have to make sure he doesn’t kill the prisoner. But nobody comes through the door. Harold moves forward, but doesn’t take his focus off of Hade. He looks out the door and see’s the bartender lying on the ground. Blood is coming out of the back of his neck from a gash. He is dead.

          Harold turns back to Hade and says, “Who’s with you?”

          But before Harold can say anything, something covered in black comes out from the shadows of the alley and wraps its arms around his neck. It squeezes the breath out of him before the Sheriff’s body goes limp and the black figure lets him go and gently puts him on the floor.

          The black figure is looking at Hade. Its voice, a male’s voice, crackles from within the hood he’s wearing. “He lives.”

          “Because he’s innocent?” Hade asks.

          “Yes.”

          “The bartender was not?”

          “No. Greed and rape.”

          “What’s my next step?”

          “Go to the cabin you talked about in your letter. Wait for further instructions.”

          “What about him? He was the one who told me about the cabin.”

          “Wait for further instructions.”

          The black figure then slowly recedes back into the shadows.

          Hade looks at the sheriff and knows he could kill him right now, but it’s against their laws to kill innocents. The only thing he can do is hurt them enough to stop them from attacking him, but that’s it. Killing an innocent is an automatic death sentence for who he works for. He decides against it and heads out the door.

          The figure is gone, but a note is just outside the door. Hade picks it up and it reads:

Take the carriage.

          He doesn’t see a carriage, but turns to the left near Main Street and see’s one as he turns the bend. The streets are empty as he browses every inch he can, before hopping onto the seat, grabbing the tethers and lightly telling the horses to go. The horses take off without a fuss and Hade leaves Rawdin. But not without a final glance, he turns back and feels sorrow. He really liked that town and felt he could’ve retired there and enjoy the rest of his life.