They were waiting outside, what was left of them. But they were undecided. The Razors had owned this place, and been proud of it. That we had come in and wiped half of their crew was a mark of dishonor.
Yet they were undecided, leaderless, and could not figure out which was more important, their honor of their lives.
I had reloaded my weapons as the smoked clearer, revealing the pile of bodies on the floor. Who ever came in now would have to be careful they didn't slip on the blood or trip over a dead arm or leg.
I had taken my fun, but now I was tired.
"You still out there." I called.
"Yeah, and you ain't coming out alive." Someone yelled back. A Razor, trying to sound tough.
"Half of your crew is pushing up daisys, the rest of you can do the same if you like." I called back.
"Fuck you! Come out here if you are so tough." They challenged.
"Why don't one of you come in and we can talk, like reasonable people." I said back.
They didn't say anything, but I could hear them discussing it among themselves. "You'll kill the first person who comes through."
"Alright, I'll keep my pistol holstered." I promised.
"Really?" They didn't believe me. Such little faith.
"What the hell? Of course." I said, and meant it.
"Alright."
One of the Razors, a slimy looking fellow with a red mohawk and leather armor marked "Razors Rule, Fuck All Else" hesistent walked into the door.
"You holstered?" He asked.
"Yep."
"Good." And he drew.
But wasn't fast enough.
One single bang, and the man fell flat on his back, a new hole in his forehead. I reloaded my six shooter, even as the barrel continued to smoke.
"You said you wouldn't shoot." Called one of the Razors.
"He drew. Now are you ready to talk?" I asked.
"So talk."
"This here was between o'neil and me. He screwed me on a deal about a year ago, and now I got my pay plus compensation for time. Do you understand."
I look down and picked up O'Neil's body. It was heavy in death, heavier than I thought it should be considering the my shotgun and blown most of his chest and belly away. I put the body on the bar and looked around, saw Jake near pillar, reloaded, watching me.
So I picked out a surviving bottle of scotch and tossed to him. "Drinks are on the house." I said.
Then I reached down and found the hatchet that O'Neil had kept behind the bar. Not as good as an axe, but it would serve.
But the Razors weren't convinced. "Yeah, right. So what's with all the shooting."
I whacked at O'Neil's neck with the hatchet.
"When you put a dog down, sometimes you got to kill the fleas too. Your crew ran and protected O'Neil. It was business. But O'Neal's dead and I got no dispute with you. So move on."
I whacked it again, and a third time. It was tough to cut through the bone. But the head came free on the fifth whack.
"This is our place." They said.
"And you can keep it. When I finish my business I'm movin' on. But in the meantime I want you out. I am renting this place for the next few hours. Come back tomorrow and it's yours." I called back.
"We can kill you when you leave." Although the tremor of the voice indicated a lack of confidence.
"If I see a single one of you, I will kill each and very one of you motherfuckers." I said. I picked up O'Neil's head by the hair and looked at his sorry eyes. Yes, you really shouldn't have fucked me and thought you'd get away with it. And then I said something else, for added effect. "And then I will kill all your friends and all your family."
"Bullshit." Said one,
"Ask him." I said, and threw O'Neil's head out the door. It rolled a ways down a small incline and then stopped in the mud.
Jake smiled. At least someone appreciates my sense of humor.
"You still there?" I asked, "Or do I have to come out."
But there was no answer. The rest of the Razors had gone.
Jake took a peak out the window, then another. THen he turned and nodded. "They're headin out the gate."
"Well we best be quick before they realize they got balls and decide to come back. " I said. And then in a louder voice. "Alright boys, time for a little shopping spree."
