Modern Day Cowboy
(The Modern Gunfighter Chronicles, #1)
Publication date: May 8th 2020
Genres: Young Adult
The Organization or O.W.A, ( Organization of Wealthy Advocates) controls everything. Hundreds of millions of dollars are bet daily via the internet on the ultimate form of gambling. Today’s fighter pay will start at $300,000, and all fights are listed as high-noon types. Only .45 caliber old Western handguns are allowed. Each fighter will take their perspective corner and the countdown will begin. The first fight on today’s schedule will be in the woods, somewhere in Minnesota. Two top fighters will be featured: The Housewife, who is in pink hair rollers and wearing a floral bathrobe; against The SoCal Bunny, a former Southern California Playboy bunny. The second fight will come live from Park City, Utah. It will feature local favorite, Reese, the ex-actress whom most know as Sundance.— Against Amy, known as Aim, a former company exec with a long list of kills. The third fight…
Mattie Pilson had just graduated from high school with no direction in her life. She preoccupied her time with baby sitting Maurice, a mentally challenged kid. Then one terrible day it happened, Maurice was gunned down while under her care. Come to find out, it was a declaration of war from some unseen enemy. Someone set up a row of domino’s and then pushed the first one. At first, all she could do was watch; then one day her boss at the gun shop, Rusty, asked an unorthodox question.—Would she like to be trained as a gunfighter?
Seems she had a lifelong enemy before she was even born. Why? Because enemies are often born at the same time as the other part of one’s soul.—A personal taunt by the universe. Her enemy has wealth, nobility, and power; she holds dreams in her hand. Mattie is simplistic, just a nuts and berries type of girl. Despite her enemy having an entire continent at her whim, she desired the one thing Mattie had yet to appreciate, David.—So she went after Mattie’s prize, with a white wedding dress.
She hears her voice talking, “I feel dark, gloomy, like the other creatures of the night are waiting for me to arrive. Think I’m over-dosing on death. My sickle is a .45 caliber metal sheath. One swoosh, and it’s all over. I am dressed in a dark hooded robe, reminiscent of an ancient Celtic priest cultivating a fire. My rod of spinning magic consists of gunpowder to cast small metal spells in the chest of victims. Slow motion sonic waves of jet propulsion that are aerodynamically sound through mathematical equations of why people die upon contact. I squeezed the damn trigger. Click, pow!” Mattie sits right up, eyes wide, was it a dream?
Sweating, panting as she tries to catch her heartbeat, talk it down from its hyper thought patterns. Her eyes are watered, carrying a certain sleep wetness like babies with bad dreams. Now she’s rambling, trying to make sense of this moment.
“I killed a cancer patient, I let Maurice die, and if it were night I would have an afterglow of guilt,” blurts out in panic mode. “Where in the hell am I? How did I get in the woods? And why are there leaves in my hair?” rattles off as she reaches up as if turning on the bedroom light. “Wait… I was in a hotel room last night, what happened?” She looks down, “There’s blood on the leaves… oh shit, there’s blood on my shirt.” Her phone rings almost in sync, she spins alarmed by the sudden sound, searches for the phone.
“What did you do?” David says with a heightened sense of alarm.
“I don’t know,” darts out as she stands while brushing herself off.
Leaves are torn from trees, broken bark is ruthlessly misplaced and painted blood is part of the scenic landscape. Scuffle marks, torched branches, staring woodland creatures. A squirrel is reading from a prayer book as birds sing dirges. A section was cleared violently. In the distance the sound of a motor is running as faint fumes dangle nearby. Delilah is still warm and in her holster. She’s armed, why is she armed? It isn’t her blood as she feels around reluctantly.
“You killed three chicks last night,” said with the intonation of shock and awe.
“What?” to a state panic.