Jony - The Bounty Hunter

Hex spurred his horse on and entered the ominous forest that breathed in front of him, I’m getting old for this. he thought as he rolled a cigarette and lit the tip up. He looked down at his shaking, wrinkled hands and let out a puff of smoke, I’m getting old, in general. he thought.

“Easy, boy,” he patted his horse as it nighed nervously. Over the years Hex had learned to not name his horse and got into the habit of calling them boy or girl, “Easy.” his creaky old voice calmed the horse down and the two continued to snake their way through the ancient forest.

It had been years since Hex had been around this part of the world but it still felt the same, untouched by human hands, Except for those fools. he let out another puff of smoke, Those bloody, murderous bastards. he spat and continued his hunt. I’ll bring them to bloody justice. As a bounty hunter, Hex was a relentless pursuer. He had been chasing this group of thugs for three days now. He could sense their fear, he could sense closing in on them.

What in the hell is that? he smelled something. Burnt wood and blood. The smell was coming from a house a short distance away. Hex grunted and spurred his horse into an easy gallop. Bastards. his anger flared as he suspected the gang’s involvement.

As he got closer to the house, he realized how far away from civilization he was. The walls were made of logs of wood and for a roof the house had leaves sewn together to stop the natural elements from disturbing what lay within the walls. Hex grunted as he got off the horse. His back was sore but he didn’t stretch to relieve the tension and went straight inside.

The stench of blood and rotting flesh hit him like a blunt cudgel and forced him to cover his nose. Inside, a girl no older than sixteen sat in a pool of blood. Hex reached for his gun instinctively as he approached the little girl, “Hey?” Hex called out, but the girl stared at the rotting corpse of a man and a woman.

“Hey?” Hex called out again. Hex could see the girl’s knuckles were white from grasping the bloody knife, “Hey, little one?” he called out again inching towards her.

The girl looked at him with dead eyes, “I killed him.” she said, her voice flat and emotionless as if the knife had killed her own soul, “I killed him because he killed my mother.”

“It’s alright little girl,” Hex took the knife from the child and wrapped his old cloak around her shoulders, “What’s your name child?” Hex carefully places the knife aside.

“Jony,” the child spoke, the reality slowly sinking in as she broke into a heart-aching sob. Hex caressed her head and tried to comfort her, but as a bounty hunter, it wasn’t his strong suit.

“It’s alright Jony,” Hex carried her in his arms, “Let’s find you some food.” The bastards will have to wait for their death, I guess

---

It has been an unusually hot summer and the cool evening breeze was a great relief from the stench of the rotting flesh. Jony urged her horses, “Come on guys, you can do this!” there was a flicker of uncertainty in her voice, Can they though? she thought whipping the reins.

“Come guys, we’ve been through so much,” she spoke to her horses, urging them to keep moving. The weight she dragged in the cart had drained her horses. I’ll have to put them down after this one. Although she had learned not to name her horses from her father, she felt a brief pang in her heart.

It was almost night when she finally rolled into the town, “Where is the sheriff?” she asked without pushing the hood of her cloak back.

“That way,” the man said covering his nose, “What is that smell? Fuck, how many did you kill?”

“A handful.” Jony said, “Come on lads, we are almost there, come on.”

The horses rolled to a stop in front of the sheriff’s office, panting and lathering, “Sheriff O’Hara, I’ve got a gift for you.”

A fat man with an unshaven face and dirty shirt walked out of the office, “Jony,” his voice rasped and his breath smelled of alcohol.

“O’hara,” Jony said, pushing back the hood of her cloak, “Got you some corpses.”

O’hara stumbled towards the carriage and began counting, “Holy Fuck.”

Jony undid the cloak and folded it carefully and tucked it in her sack, “Hmm.” she grunted.

“You killed the lot.” O’hara counted, “You killed them all Jony. Why don’t you bring them alive?”

Jony smiled, remembering the words of her father, Hex the Bounty Hunter, “If you kill a killer the number of killers stays the same., so just kill two. Hell, i killed like 17 today.”