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"Can I help you, sir?" a voice asked the bladeslinger in an Edwinian accent. David turned to the voice and he came face to face with a rather sharp dressed ferret in a dark brown suit and an equally colored bowler hat. From under the hat, the ferret's black hair poked out slightly at the bangs, and on his waist were two holstered revolvers.
David cleared his throat and said, "Um, yeah. The sheriff sent me." This brought a smile on the ferret's face as he asked, "Ah! You were the one who nabbed that rascal, Kyle, weren't you?"
"...Yes, I was," David admitted, not really wanting to revisit the subject. He shook the thought out of his head and explained, "The sheriff mentioned something about free room and board?"
The ferret nodded and replied, "Certainly, sir." He then held his paw out to the tiger and said, "Willem Sanders, at your service. Allow me to show you to your room." David took the paw and introduced himself before following Willem to the room.
"Good evening, sir." The Panther greeted, his voice containing only a slight trace of an Edwinian accent. The Sheriff nodded, a suspicious look in his eyes. The Panther didn't miss a single detail. "I know this is most certainly not the normal attire of a doctor, but I am a cautious man, and have learned that a well-armed and intimidating individual deters any unwanted attention, particularly of the criminal element." Turning a few looks to the jail behind the Sheriff, he began again. "As you have no doubt figured out, I am here for the arrangement of transportation for one of my escaped patients." he pointed behind him to the stagecoach he arrived on. It had two burly looking guards dressed similarly to Anderson. One was a hyena with a scar down his right eye. The other was a wolf, half of his right ear cut off. Both had Lever-action rifles at ready, though pointed down.
The Sheriff answered. "Their's been a few difficulties. He's shot a couple of my deputies, and we need to go through a few procedures. He'll be released to you in the morning, mr..."
"Anderson. Doctor Joseph Anderson." he said. "And that is perfectly fine. I understand that the law may sometimes be complicated."
With that, Anderson returned to his stagecoach. As it made its way to a nearby Inn, he looked away from the disappearing sun. His gaze froze, as the last bit of sunlight illuminated a brief movement. The glint of a cannon.
"That greedy Bastard has return." he muttered.
As soon as he finished the shot, he turned in his stool to look around the bar. Several waitresses wearing provacative outfits served alcoholic drinks to several different patrons, some of them making passes at the women. A few of the townspeople sat in a corner, playing a game of Texas Hold 'Em.
'Funny,' he thought to himself. 'It's almost as though nothing happened earlier today.'
Almost everything had changed in his appearance. His clothing, the way he carried himself, but their was one thing that hadn't changed. The cane.
Jack had successfully escaped not only imprisonment, but had changed himself so thoroughly, that no one would believe it was the same person. And Jack was already planning on how to break his buddy out.
He was about to order another drink when he felt a pair of eyes staring at him from the room. He turned his head and saw a fox looking at him from the other side of the bar. Something about the fox seemed familiar, but he couldn't tell why.
Perhaps it was just the fox looking at him, but he couldn't help but shake the feeling that something ws about to happen. Maybe he was just getting paranoid, he thought.
And to think, that if Jack stayed in civilized society, he'd be safe from all this mayhem. Then again, he was never one for a simple life.
Kyle was about to spring his plan. The sheriff had gone out to meet the doctor, and like he thought, his begging for death instead of this had caused the Sheriff to rethink giving him up to a doctor who may have been involved with questionable testing methods.
The sheriff had walked back in to see a form huddled against the back of the cell. Because of the lack of light, he couldn't make out exactly if he was asleep or faking. Whichever, the sheriff went over to the lamp. Strange that it had gone out so soon. Taking a match from his desk, he struck it across the desk.
As the small match lit up a small area, The sheriff saw a bright flash of light before everything went dark.
Kyle had escaped from his cell using a few hidden tools in the lining of his clothes. HE had waited until the sheriff went for a light, then used the cuffs as a bashing weapon. It was effective. Crouching near the prone form of the sheriff, he put two fingers against the neck. He was alive. Unconscious, but alive.
"Better arm up." he whispered, as he ransacked the small prison. A few other criminals were there, but sleeping. Within minutes, he had retrieved his revolver and knife. The Doctor was in for a surprise in the morning.
David shook the memory out of his head as he lay down on the bed. Before he closed his eyes, however, David slid the knife that he kept in his boot and hid it under his pillow. He was always cautious that someone would kill him in his sleep.
Jack watched as David went into his room, before approaching it, faking a limp to provide his cover identity. Taking a piece of parchment tucked under his shirt, he read the note mentally.
The note read,
"Enjoy your night of respite. In the morning, you're going to find yourself in a predicament indirectly caused by what may have seemed like, to a mercenary of your calibre, just another day's work. I sincerely hope your a good horse rider. You'll need to be to catch up to us."
Jack smiled. It was short, straight to the point, and gave just enough information to keep things on track. Leaning against his cane, he refolded it, and slipped it under the man's door. Without further delay, he half jogged, half-limped down the stairs, and out of the bar. Halfway down the street, with no one to see them, he seemed to be healed of his limp. Another figure rode up on a dark brown horse, another horse similar in color being lead beside him. Jack hoped onto the horse, and both took off away from both the city, and advancing mercenary team. As they left, One of them drew a revolver, aimed it up in the air, and fired one shot.
David leaped up in his bed at the sound of the gunshot, drawing his knife on reflex. His green eyes scanned the room quickly, and when he was completely sure that he was alone, he placed the knife back down on the bed. David then picked up a small box of matches, struck one against the box, and lit the candle on his nightstand.
Sure enough, everything was the same as it was when he fell asleep. At least, that was what he thought, until his eyes caught sight of the sheet of paper in front of his door. He moved over, picked up the note, and read what was enclosed.
Perhaps it was just the fact that he had just woken up, or his anxiety from the sudden gunshot, but David was confused at the notes meaning. All he did was turn a criminal in, and the sheriff said that a doctor was coming to take him back.
Whatever was going to happen, he certainly wasn't groggy anymore.
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