Part Thirty Seven: Excitable Boy

	Caleb and the Cultists simply glared at each other, each wishing the others ill health to the best of their abilities from the inside of their own myopic minds. It was a fragile peace based purely on a force of concentrated animosity; for the moment each side was just too hateful to let the other one go. Instead, they all wanted to see the other squirm, something that Caleb was still managing to make his opponents do despite the fact he really no longer had any control of the situation anymore. No matter how much sheer malice he could throw their way the Cultists still had him, even if the gunslinger's mere presence alone was still enough to have them all barely able to keep more than a shaky nervous grip on their various weapon triggers. This truce of enmity could only hold for so long. Someone was going to have to fire the first shot.

	Someone did. Caleb's expression changed from one of absolute loathing to that of total surprise as the balcony above him was suddenly cleared of all opposition. The Cultists, who had been up to that point concentrating all of their attentions on the form of the betrayer, had been completely unprepared for any kind of volley coming from their own level. Not one to be caught with his pants down for long, Caleb promptly caught one of the falling rifles that had previously been discarded by one of those slain above him and fired several shots in the direction of one of the two entrances into the room. He then ducked down onto the floor as yet more bullets whistled through the air which only moments before had constituted the area of the gunfighter's head. Caleb span round and returned fire from a prone position on the floor, successfully neutralizing both of the targets that had been amassing on his level.

	Satisfied that he was no longer in anyone's gun sights, Caleb rose to his feet and glanced up at the balcony again, only to see a surprisingly familiar face starring back at him. A thin pale boy dressed in a black trenchoat and hat was considering him from above, a sinister looking machine gun still smoking in his clasped hands. His face showed no emotion, but the boy's eyes still managed to probe their way into Caleb's own, making him feel as if they were staring into his very soul. It was almost the exact same feeling he had felt back in the swamp, back when he had first suspected he was being followed. How exactly the boy had managed to both keep track and keep pace with him Caleb would never know, but he was here now, and for his own part the old gunslinger was grateful.

	"I believe these men still have something of yours" Johnny said in a voice far more assured than Caleb had ever heard it before. "I hope that by my actions today you will finally be able find it." A fury of movement could then be heard from somewhere off in the near distance, and Johnny wasted no time in discharging his weapon and running off after it. The sound of cacophonous cries and heavy weapons fire then filled the castle as Johnny carried on with his own chosen work. Caleb for the moment said and did nothing. The boy remained a very great mystery to him. Why had he not headed his own warning to stay out of this whole business? Did he feel as if he owed the old gunfighter something? Why had he willingly decided to stay embroiled in someone else's crusade?

	As the shouts of the Cultists continued to grow louder and louder even as they became more and more distant Caleb eventually decided on an answer. He had indeed given the boy something far greater than returning his freedom or saving him from the fiery clutches of the hell hound. Johnny really was indebted to him for something far more important than all that. Just like Caleb the boy had lost everything he knew at the hands of the cult, but unlike Caleb, the cult had also been able to take his own rebellious spirit from him as well. Through the gunfighter's own example Johnny had not only been able to regain the will to fight, he had also been shown the way to fight. Caleb had granted the boy the option of dreaming of a better world free of the Cabal's influence. Through the actions of his own despair the old gunslinger had managed to inspire someone else's hope.

	Even with all that being accepted though, Caleb did not think that Johnny had ever really owed him something anymore. The boy had after all already given him something immensely valuable in return for his help. Through Johnny for the first time since Tchernobog's betrayal Caleb had really managed to form an actual human connection with another person. Johnny had allowed him to express his own humanity, and even though he had forced and shoved him away, that connection had remained just as strong. Even without the help of the scroll Caleb now felt as if he had been given something of his own life back. Still, such thoughts of nauseating sweetness could only last for so long, and before Caleb knew what was happening he was once again staring down the barrel of yet another gun.

	"Crudux cruo!" the Cultist bayed excitedly, having stumbled upon the gunfighter while Caleb was still being consumed with his own thoughts. Before Caleb had the wherewithal to respond however a stream of bullets started to impact their way into the robed man's back from somewhere else, as the illusive form of Johnny once again appeared to act as Caleb's own resident variety of deus ex machina. Even though he only saw Johnny's face for a mere instant as he had rushed passed, Caleb could have sworn that he saw what looked like the appearance of a satisfied smile on the young man's face.

	"Well, he's just an excitable boy!" Caleb remarked as a broad smile arrived on his own lips, right before he too moved to once again throw himself back into the fray.

Hamish Paul Wilson
November 16, 2014