| FAN FICTION Jericho Cross: The Outlaw Path, Revisited - Written By Kansas Jones (Takes place after "Curse of the West", Evil Alignment) Jericho Cross pressed the barrel of the Redeemer pistol harder into the back of the teller''s neck, indicating that the bank worker had better hurry up and get the safe open. An audible click was heard with the safe door swinging open a second later. Cross placed his pistol back in the holster. He shoved the man out of the way and began to gather the silver pieces and paper currency into the saddlebags. Old habits die hard. The bank manager, a skinny man with a drooping mustache, spoke up, "We hired you for protection. This is how you repay us?" Faster then lighting, Jericho swung around, drew the pistol and shot the man. The manager grunted and fell to his knees, clutching his now wounded arm. Warm blood oozed between the fingers. The smell of the blood was enticing to Cross. With his good eye, he scanned the small crowd held inside the bank; no one else had any thing more to say. Jericho cinched the saddle bags closed and slung them over his shoulder. He started toward the doorway, his boots made a clomp clomp sound on the wood flooring, accompanied by the jingling of his spurs. He passed a young woman who gathered the courage to speak. "Mr. Cranston was right. We hired you for protection, not to rob us." Defiance showed in her eyes. Jericho paused and stared at her, a long, cool look. It was true. He had been hired to deal with an uprising of undead Braves who had been terrorizing the town. And he had dealt with the problem. That was then. This was now. Cross grabbed her by the back of the neck and roughly pulled her toward him. His fangs sunk into the side of her neck. No one made any attempt to help her. The town really was full of a bunch of cowards. After a quick gulp of blood, Cross released her and she stumbled backward into the arms of a couple of the hostages. Her hand was clasped over her mangled neck, the defiance in her eyes replaced by a stark fear. Jericho smiled at her. The blue bloods always did make mighty tasty snacks. He tipped his hat to her and swooshed out into the moonlit night, his long black coat spreading out behind him. "Cross! Stay there and don''t move!" The sound of rifles being cocked carried on the cool night breeze. The sheriff and his deputy had finally arrived. Law was slow to respond in this town too. With a smile, Jericho lit a match between his thumb and forefinger and quickly dropped it onto a thin line of gunpowder leading to a nearby barn. The spark reached the quarter stick of dynamite planted at the base of the barn doors, exploding them off the hinges. A half dozen Braves rushed out into the bright moonlight, axes waving, their eyes glowing a sickly red. Cross had captured a few of the Braves for his escape purposes. With the local law now very much distracted with the bloodthirsty undead natives, and townsfolk scrambling for cover, Jericho slipped into a darkened alleyway where he had stashed Shadow. Leaping into the saddle, the midnight black horse responded to Jericho with a whinny. Red steam spewed from the undead animal''s nostrils, his eyes glowing a fiery red. Cross and Shadow were of the same blood, born of the evil that lurked in the night. With a nudge, Cross spurred Shadow out of the town, riding into the moonlight that embraced them, leaving the yellow backed citizens to their fate. Jericho Cross, former outlaw, former Darkwatch regulator, now a vampire outlaw, was free to go where he wanted and wreak as much havoc as he chose too. Un-life was good. Giddy up Hoss. You want to live forever? Back to Fan Fiction |