Story 'The End of the Road'

A slightly modified version of my first ever ASJ story, written in December 2019 for the advent calendar of that year.

Eight years with no amnesty leads to the guys feeling they have little choice but to split up. This is not a character death story so have faith. :)

April 1893

Kid Curry woke just as the sun came up and shivered at the nip in the air. He stretched his fingers and toes and winced as they cracked.

Wyoming had yet another new governor and a trip to Porterville had confirmed their worst fears. The deal had been reset yet again. Eight years with nearly as many Governors and amnesty felt no closer than the first day, but they'd both changed too much for outlawing to really be an option for either of them anymore. Sometimes it was lack of money that stopped them from heading to Mexico, but more often, Curry knew it was just simple stubbornness that kept them on this road.

Curry looked over at his partner who perhaps surprisingly was still asleep and shuffled off to relieve himself, before quietly moving round their camp to get things set up for breakfast.

He'd always tried to avoid fretting over things he couldn't control- it was difficult enough managing the things he could – but the news had thrown them both. Their lives would continue to depend on either Curry's ability with a gun or Heyes' silver tongue, likely both, depending on the situation. While he didn't doubt his skill, he knew age was no friend to speed and accuracy and he admitted if only to himself that lately he'd had to practice more just to avoid getting slower - he was still faster than most, but he wasn't foolish enough to believe that would always be so.

They'd also found that people were becoming less easy to convince with Heyes' silver tongue. He thought it was more a sign of the changing times, then any actual reduction of ability, despite his teasing to the contrary. It was a fact though that with their main skills in danger of failing them, life was only going to get harder and it was hardly easy now.

The Kid sometimes felt that Thaddeus Jones and Joshua Smith had become almost as big a target as Heyes and Curry. Targetted by a different level of folks maybe, but no less dangerous for the difference. It was probably time to switch names, but neither of them would be happy with that- their aliases were like old friends and provided a kind of comfort.

“Hey, Kid. You wool gathering again ?”

Curry had been so lost in his thoughts that he was startled enough by his partner's voice that his hand automatically went toward his gun. His mind caught up with his body and he returned to viciously poking the dead fire, trying to coax it back to life as he answered. “Somethin' like that.”

“You okay?”

His tone must have been as sombre as he felt, because Heyes' voice held a note of poorly concealed concern. The Kid turned to meet his friend's gaze and was caught by the worn expression and the lines of strain around his eyes. He considered distraction or briefly even downright lying. But he knew Heyes wouldn't be fooled and if he pretended to be it'd only delay the inevitable.

“Just thinkin' 'bout the future, amnesty don't seem no closer than when we started. We gotta face that we might never get it. I can't protect us as well as I'd like anymore.” Heyes opened his mouth to argue, but Curry talked over him. “I ain't blind or stupid- I know you worry.”

Heyes shrugged and shifted uncomfortably before answering, “ You know most times I say anything I'm only teasing. You're still a better shot than most. Between us we can manage.”

Curry waved that away, his mind spinning on ahead. “We've talked about splittin' more than once and we always decided against it, but I think we gotta consider it again. We're getting too much of a name for us to stay out of trouble together. “

“I'm meant to do the thinking Kid.“ Heyes' voice held little conviction.

Curry shook his head, determined that even their most enduring and comforting lie wouldn't be allowed. “C'mon Heyes, that's not been true for a while now, this damned amnesty has meant we've needed more than just one of us thinkin or shootin.”

Heyes expression told it's own truth as he acknowledged the reality of it. “Well maybe that's for the best Kid- means we've adapted and that we're still best sticking together.”

“I ain't sure we are Heyes. We seem to be findin' ourselves in over our heads far too often lately. We might find it easier if we're only worryin' about ourselves.”

“I thought you were the only thing keeping me alive, Kid.” Curry knew Heyes was just trying to lighten the atmosphere and would normally have appreciated the effort, but at the moment it just irritated him. He had things he needed to say and it was hard enough without the distraction. “That ain't been true for a while now neither.”

Heyes sighed and glared at him, but appeared to accept that they were having this conversation whether he liked it or not. “Look, Kid, you ain't convincing me that splitting up is our best option, but I don't want a fight. I just wish you'd change your mind.” They locked gazes for a few seconds and it was Heyes who looked down first, muttering as he did so, “But I know you're not going to.”

Curry knew nothing he or Heyes could say would make this any better, but he tried anyway. “Maybe this new Governor will give us what was promised. I'll find ya if he does.”

Heyes' eyes were suspiciously bright and Curry could feel his own burning as they looked at each other. Curry broke the strange stand-off, unable to stand the too obvious pain in his partner's expression any longer and stood to make breakfast.

They ate the meal in subdued silence. Curry glanced at his partner frequently and was aware Heyes was doing the same. He wondered if he was making the right decision, but he could see no alternative. He knew Heyes was trying to find a way to talk him out of it, but firmly decided he wouldn't be swayed. As Curry finished eating he gave into a sudden impulse to rest his hands on his friend's forearms unable to meet his gaze directly, but felt a smile as Heyes grasped his arms tightly. They sat like that for a while as Curry contemplated a life out on his own- something he'd not experienced for over fifteen years.

In the end Heyes didn't even try to argue with him, just watched him as he packed up his belongings. As Curry rode away he felt Heyes' gaze on him and was sure he could still feel it, long after it was really possible for it to be so.

Six Months Later.

Heyes rode into Gunnison. It wasn't the first time he'd been there, he and the Kid had stayed here a few years ago, but he'd never visited or robbed it as Hannibal Heyes. The town was peaceable, and the sheriff had no cause to wonder who he might be. Heyes had been on the receiving end of a good run of luck and his pockets were full. Life should have been good, but the empty space next to him still felt too large to be right. The whole town looked freshly painted, so it was obviously prosperous. Heyes intended to stay for a couple of days. He headed towards the nearer of the two restaurants, after stabling his horse. As he sat at a vacant table, and waited to be served, he picked up an abandoned newspaper.

KID CURRY SHOT DEAD

Jedediah 'Kid' Curry, alias Thaddeus Jones, shot and killed by Boulder Sheriff.

Curry was staying in town under his alias Jones and after causing trouble he'd been politely asked to leave by Sheriff Thompson. He had refused and provoked a gunfight between them. The notorious gunslinger's true identity was only discovered on his death. There was no sign of Hannibal Heyes and further investigation has strongly suggested that Heyes and Curry parted on poor terms when Kid Curry took exception to his partner in crime deciding to leave their outlaw life behind him. Heyes is lucky that Curry did not shoot him- maybe the gunslinger wished to save his bullets.

Heyes' throat constricted, he couldn't believe the story, it sounded nothing like the Kid. There had to have been more to it. He re-read the article trying to look for clues. But there was a strange buzzing in his ears and the room was beginning to spin and go fuzzy.

“Are you alright, Mister?” a pretty-eyed waitress had appeared at his table, her expression concerned.

“Fine, fine. Just tired from the ride in. “ He waved vaguely toward the street. She smiled and waited expectantly, but all thought of food was gone, he mechanically ordered coffee.

Heyes drank the coffee, barely registering it, threw some money on the table, and went to reclaim his horse. The livery owner's boy was still tending him and looked up in surprise at Heyes' sudden reappearance. Heyes was in no mood to explain, but tipped him quite generously and rode out of town, conscious of a heavy weight on his shoulders.

He had to find out what had really happened and ensure his friend had a proper resting place. That thought brought a deep biting pain that drove him on.

Heyes made camp when he and his horse could go no further. Ten hours in the saddle was more than enough for both him and his mount.

Heyes picked at his supper as too many memories filled his head. Unshed tears made his eyes burn and he felt jittery and ill at ease, but complete exhaustion allowed him to sleep. It was a restless and broken effort, far too full of dreams to leave him well-rested.

He woke well before the sun and with just coffee for breakfast he hit the trail. As he rode he wondered if he should have tried harder to convince Curry they were still better together. But he recognised that all that would have done was provoke an argument and Curry likely would have left anyway. Heyes made it to Boulder quicker then he'd imagined, due to pushing himself past exhaustion. It was the only way he could sleep.

On arrival Heyes looked for the Sheriff's office and aware of the irony, stomped towards it and slammed in through the door. Thompson looked up from his desk as the heavy door banged. He was an older man with strong features, greying hair and calm brown eyes.

He was very unruffled as he looked Heyes up and down before waving him into the chair on the opposite side of the desk. Heyes threw himself down and turned a fierce look on the Sheriff. Thompson remained totally unintimidated and merely said politely,“What brings you to Boulder, Mr?”

“Smith, Joshua Smith.”

Thompson met his gaze and Heyes was surprised to see his eyes warm and a small smile break out on his lips. “Ah, Mr Smith, I've been waiting for you.”

Heyes considered going for his gun, but if this man had out-shot the Kid, even at 100% capacity, beating him would have been unlikely and he recognised he was barely at 10%, so instead he merely glared, hoping his expression aptly conveyed his dislike.

Thompson kept his gaze and his smile became kind. “I bet you've got a lot of questions and a real urge to kill me, but read these first before you make any dumb moves, Mr Smith.” The drawl he gave the name left Heyes in no doubt the Sheriff knew exactly who he was and Heyes was suddenly certain he was missing something vital.

Thompson held out two paper packages which Heyes took suspiciously. He opened the top one. His name stared out at him in bold lettering. Amnesty, awarded in full. Seven months ago it would have meant everything, but now it felt like nothing more than a poison chalice. He dropped the paper heavily onto the desk feeling empty and wondered what he was supposed to do now.

The Sheriff patted him gently on his shoulder, his voice reassuring as he said, “It'll mean a whole lot more, son, when you read the other one.”

Dear Heyes,

I sure do wish I could have done this in a better way. These six months ain't been real easy.

“Can't see how this makes a spit of difference, Sheriff. Still sounds like he's dead."

The Sheriff's smile broadened and he indicated Heyes should carry on. Too worn to argue, and despondently eager to discover the truth, Heyes continued to read.

A few weeks after I left you, I headed to Arizona to visit Doc Donovan. I weren't real sure why, but it seemed as good a plan as any. Figured he still owed us a favor. He agreed without much persuadin' and suggested Sheriff Thompson here. We came up with a plan to kill both Kid Curry and Thaddeus Jones. Now before you get all angry, just keep readin'.

Two weeks after the Sheriff shot Kid Curry, Deke Simpson rode into town, bought a farm and settled in to wait for his new partner Hannibal Heyes. What's takin' you so long, dammit?

Heyes finished reading, then carefully unfolded the contract. Curry's untidy scrawl was easily recognisable despite the unfamiliar name. There was no doubt the Kid had written the letter, he'd been able to almost hear him in the written words. He needed the confirmation though, before he was willing to fully believe and asked softly his gaze still on the paper. “He's not dead?”

“Nope, but he got grazed running from a posse just before he reached the Arizona border. He decided he needed a way to stop being a target one way or another."

“The Kid came up with this?” Curry wasn't stupid, but Heyes had never known him to be this imaginative. It was a plan even he'd have struggled to think up.

Thompson laughed and shook his head. “To be honest it wasn't our plan, Doc knows the Marshall out at Dodge, and he remembered something he told him once. So he and Dillon gotta take most of the credit. But I was glad to play my part. Your friend is mighty likeable when he sets his mind to it.”

Heyes snorted and shook his head still slightly stunned at events, but the Kid was alive and everything else would follow from there. His world was firmly back on its axis and his- no their future looked bright. He looked again at the contract and was aware of Thompson watching where his eyes settled.

“It isn't far from here. I'll take you there, tomorrow.” Heyes started to stand, ready to protest that he was ready for the ride, but Thompson put a firm hand on his shoulder pushing him back to sit. Heyes realised that the sudden release of stress and his still tangled emotions had left him as weak as a day old kitten and he reluctantly agreed to the delay, reasonably sure his rubbery legs wouldn't hold him up for long if he tried to ride.

He lay in the comfort of his hotel bed unwilling despite his tiredness to give into sleep before he'd thought over the possibilities that were suddenly open to them. He doubted either of them would stay farming, but it was good to have a starting point. With that comforting thought he drifted into probably his first truly restful sleep in six months.

The next morning he was up early, almost before the sun, but he felt energised and full of hope. He was mildly irritated that Thompson hadn't yet finished his morning round and wasn't ready to go. Heyes knew he could've have set out himself, but felt he owed it to the older man to wait and decided to go eat breakfast.

His eyes swept the still quiet street for somewhere that was open and felt a familiar sense of being watched. His gaze followed the feeling to its source and with a jolt of pleasure recognised the Kid standing on the opposite side of the street, arms folded in a relaxed stance. Curry started toward him, just as his own legs began to move. They met half way and clasped each other's arms tightly as their laughter rang out loudly in the quiet air.