Dust to Dust

♠

It was early in the morning, but the sun was already ripping the horizon of the Mojave. A golden curtain of dust waved eerily in the distance, filling up the air with the promise of the merciless heat yet to come. In this inhospitable landscape three figures roamed side by side. The odd ones out had only the vultures above their heads as a company besides one another, which is to say the same thing. They didn’t talk for awhile, entranced by the distant scene as they were, they kept walking lazily and breathing deeply, with each step sinking in the burning sand and only a thick hazy air to fill their lungs.
 

They walked for what seemed hours, until one of the carrion birds landed right in front of the group, making them all split up from one another. She stared at first with a tilted gaze and walked flamboyantly with her black coat from side to side.

"This must be a curious one." Said the man with the red hat.

"Or a very hungry one." Proposed the youngest, attempting a joke.

"Shut the hell up." Yelled the oldest. And as this one raised his hand, his blood-soaked sleeve waved gloriously in front of the condor.

She stretched her head high and spanned her wings from side to side, as if to welcome the newly arrived in good grace, or to make fun of their inevitable fate. She flapped her wings once without effort before the old man shot her square in the chest.

 

The other two flinched briefly and looked at him in silence until the young one asked: "Why waste bullets though?"

"Shut the fuck up Billy. All of this is your damn fault cause ye’re a stupid kid. And I should have known better than to listen to you." He raised his hand towards the man with the red hat and their eyes locked in a challenge. One with a gun on his hand, the other slowly moving his towards his waist.

Seeing things going south, William tried to defuse the situation. "Alright fellas look, we need one another to make this through. The route of the caravans is only a day ahead of us, if we can get there I’m sure you can settle your scores without having to kill each other…"

"You see?" Said the old man. "You’re a good shooter, but you’re as dense and dry as the rocks on this dust bowl kid. That’s why you lost your gun, and that’s why robbing that train was the stupidest idea you could have had in your life. The road is three days east not one day, and each of us has only got enough water for just one day. And what do you think will happen when we get there? I’m a wanted man… And so are you." And he raised his gun.

 

While the old man was talking William was playing the dice on his mind. On a normal day, he’d bet on the youngest one to win this standoff, not because he was probably faster but also because he knew the old guy couldn’t hit anything 5 feet away from his nose. Today however, he would have to bet his life on the worst shooter in this street, not because he trusted luck, but because he had already taken the bullets from the other one’s gun while they were all resting. So the odds he was concerned about were more about whether or not he could reach the old man’s face with his dagger before he shot twice.

When the grip on those guns flashed forward, so did he. One click, no sound, he was halfway there with the dagger in his hand. Another click, explosion and smoke in front of the old man’s face. William jumped to the side as the gun was now pointed at him and as the second bullet passed right next to his left ear, he grabbed the man's wrist and pushed the blade into his stomach. Again and again with precision and intent, while the other unloaded his revolver into the sky and until he fell on his knees.

There was silence for a while.

 

"Billy!" The other man called faintly. "Help me out partner."

William got up, picked the revolver at his feet and then walked towards the other one while loading the gun.

"My piece didn’t fire, man. He shot me in the chest, I’m not sure I..."

"Aye, I saw that mate. It’s alright." - William placed one of the bags beneath the man’s feet and crouched next to him. Mouth full of blood and a big hole in his chest. He tried to grab his canteen but William grabbed his hand.

"I need water buddy, give me water. Please." 

"Alright." - William opened the canteen and poured some of the precious liquid on his friend’s lips, slowly letting it flow into his mouth. He choked and coughed and then looked at William with tears in his eyes.

"Why did you take my bullets!" - He coughed and shivered. - "You…"

William held him down, so to no let him collapse.

"Honestly mate?" - He breathed deeply - "I thought you were going to be the first to snap out here. You’re a much better shooter than that dead bloke. And you are also very much a heavy sleeper." - While he spoke the other one carved his nails into William’s arm in pain and anger. - "Alright, you think I didn’t know? You brought me to this job, partner, but you planned to get away with the cash with that crazy redhead who was shooting everyone inside that fucking train? You and her both, fucked this up, not me. Don’t you dare to lie to me! Hey.." - While he spoke the other man shook his head in denial. William slapped him twice and then pushed a finger into his face. - "Don’t you fucking dare!"

"I loved her man." - He cried.

"And now you’re carrion meat brother."

William rested all day and walked all night until he reached the old Indian route, now used by the poor and the outlaws alike. He walked up a small hill not far from the main road where two dead trees made vigil, and climbed the tallest. He was beyond exhaustion but he couldn't rest just yet. In the distance he noticed there was a sizable encampment right next to the road, but they were all thugs. He had two guns but not enough bullets for them all. But then he noticed a lonely camp far out of the thug's sight, and the silhouette of a horse against the campfire's light. "My lucky day."

The camp was not more than just a fire and the remnants of a dead tree where the horse's rein and saddle were tied to. The owner being completely submerged in a blanket next to the crackling campfire meant he had two choices, steal the horse while he slept, or cut the man's throat, eat a hearty meal and then leave.

He moved silently, patiently prowling and closing in the distance without making any noise. He managed to reach the man without disturbing him even once. "Who the hell sleeps with boots on?" He thought before pulling the blanket. And as he did, he pushed his hand against the man's mouth and pulled his head back so to expose the neck, but then he notice, his hand landed on an empty pillow. William removed the whole blanket and all there was, was more blankets and some boots in the end.

The road was long and hard on his way back from a visit to Las Vegas, but he was determined to make it back as soon as possible without any issues. So as he went day after day, he took every precaution he could on the open road. When he was only a couple more days out from home he decided it was time to make camp. 

The horse was hitched and given some food. It was only a short walk to a stream to grab a bucket of water for him as well. He couldn't make some of these trips if he didn't take care of his trusty steed. Now it was time to find himself some food....

The Hunt

It was going to be dark soon so he quickly grabbed his bow and a few arrows. John wasn't the best hunter, but he knew how to be quiet and sneak up on a target. So he would use that talent to hopefully get some grub. As he walked slowly through the woods he spotted some deer tracks. Fresh and heading south of his current position....

Slowly but surely he made up ground on the deer until he came to a clearing where the buck stood with his head down eating. The arrow felt slightly heavy, but he put it in place. Drawing the bow back took a bit of strength, but he had plenty. Eventually the arrow was ready to take flight and he just wanted to steady himself. As he shifted his weight a twig snapped under the edge of his boot. 

"Damn..." He said as the arrow was sent flying at a deer that was already galloping off into the woods opposite him. 

Maybe today was going to be the day he went to sleep hungry. The rest of his food was either consumed during the trip or went bad by now. John really did not want to miss out on a good meal. Just as he was heading back to his camp he spotted two large rabbits hopping at the edge of the woods. 

"They would make a good stew." He thought to himself.

About an hour later....

The stew was hot and tasty as he sat down in front of his fire to eat it. There wasn't going to be much sleeping comfortably tonight though after enjoying this meal. There were others camped nearby and if they didn't have food then they might just come searching for some.

So after he finished up eating his bit of stew for the moment, he went and created a fake "sleepin cowboy" to take his place just in case anyone showed up. Then he made his way a bit away from the camp to sleep by a tree. 

It wasn't long before he was almost watching the inside of his eyelids that he spotted a figure sneaking up on his camp. The adrenaline started to pump as he searched for more....but he seemed to be the only one for the moment...

The hammer on his revolver pulled back slowly as the barrel found a new home on the back of the young man's head. John always made sure to be careful when he was camping. Especially with that other encampment nearby and the thought in the back of his mind that he preferred not to get bushwhacked tonight. Although this man must have been on his own as well since a big group like that would have probably made a show of it all to wack him.

"So feller, you have a good reason to be sneakin' up on my camp like this? Or should I introduce you to this nice bullet in my gun?" John tilted his head to get a better look at the mans face.

He seemed hungry and tired as hell, "Ah damn't. You were tryin' to get my horse weren't ya?"

The man nodded slowly as he turned to face John. He didn't like the prospect of getting bushwhacked, but maybe this man would be a bit of help to deter anyone else from trying to do what he did. There was strength in numbers.

"How about you and me share the rest of this rabbit stew I made. Then just before dawn we go get you a horse from that other camp and ride out of here? Between now and then you can entertain me by tellin' me who the hell you are and why I shouldn't change my mind back to introducing you to that bullet." John put the hammer slowly back into place.

He didn't put the gun away and kept it at the ready, but he offered the man a bowl to put stew in before getting himself a second helping. Once they took a seat he turned to the man waiting for the explanation...

"Thank you sir." 

William sat next to the fire and buried his attention into the bowl, shoving one spoon after the other filled to the brim with stew. Almost two days without eating and only a few hours of sleep under an unforgiving sun left him wondering whether or not he would just pass out after this hearty meal. So he stopped halfway through and looked up to this odd cowboy.

He seemed to be in his mid thirties, but his face carried the expression of someone who had lived at least two lifetimes worth of trouble. He chewed calmly and patiently without taking his eyes out of him. By the looks of his clothes and posture, it was clear this man wasn't a hard-working honest fellow of any kind. If William lied though, he would most certainly be killed, but he wasn't too sure if this man was a bounty hunter of some sort, so he decided to go with as much truth as he could spare.
 

"Name's William sir. Me and some friends ran into some trouble while travelling aboard this train three days ago. I fled the train by jumping in the middle of the desert, and ended up having to cross it all by myself. And now I'm here." The cowboy's expression didn't change for a few seconds, while neither of the two broke eye contact.

"And the blood?" He finally asked pointing at William's shirt with his spoon and a raised eyebrow.

"Leaving the train wasn't exactly a peaceful walk away."

"Only fools and desperados rob trains nowadays. It's not profitable anymore." He chuckled. "You're not a fool now, are you son?"

William stared at the man with a challenging look.

"Gotta say, the drawing on your bounty makes you justice Mr. Walker." The cowboy got up and approached the campfire. "A cold blooded killer and a dangerous gunslinger, wanted dead or alive for the grand total of sixty thousand dollars... Have you made sixty grand robbing those trains of late?"

William kept looking at him without saying a word, head high.

"I didn't think so as well. The name is John." The cowboy lit a cigar and threw the matchstick into the fire. "Marston."

Fuck. 

"Like I was saying, outlaws don't live long, but these days we have to raise our game if we're to survive at all. I could use a man of your potential but I must warn you, my line of work is not what it used to be."

"What exactly are you proposing mister Marston?"

"Have you ever heard of the Italian mob?"

John waited as the young man's face seemed to change from concern to confusion......

"I said, have you hear of the Italian mob?" He lit a cigar, "Also known by some as organized crime in the big cities, stretching across the country, and even across the Atlantic Ocean." 

It was clear that William had some idea of what he spoke of, but most likely was still on guard as to what John's intentions were in this whole situation. The knowledge of who exactly he was and the bounty on his head was enough to rattle any man. Especially a man who had just spent plenty of time crossing a desert after an attempted train robbery.

"Well, Mr. Marston I have heard of it. Although I have not had much if any interaction with that sort of criminal. Honestly this is the closest I've come to a large city like Seattle. I tended to stay away from the larger populations as to avoid the law. Why do you ask?" William spoke with a bit more confidence as he pushed for John's intentions.

"There is a man in Seattle known as Coltrane, who runs things and he gave me his 'blessing' as they call it to run my own gang as long as I stay within their rules and follow his lead. This led to me starting my operation underneath Leo Maranzano in Ballard. With all my problems with the law, it seemed the best option to help me keep my neck out of the noose. So I went from running with a few hardened men to a couple dozen. Plus I now have the support of the whole of Seattle's criminal underworld. It is a profitable and powerful organization." John took a few puffs of his cigar and then went rummaging through his bag.

"Ah! There it is..." He thought to himself. Out of the bag came a bottle of whiskey. A couple of swigs and then he offered it to William who politely declined. The focus was on what this offer might be.

"So, I'm always looking for more men with your talent and also an understanding of how things used to be. Not just how they were, but how times are changin' and how we need to change with them. From how rough you look, I think you're finally seeing how things have become quite tough for the outlaw in the not-so-wild-west."

"You're asking me to join your gang in Seattle?" William interjected.

John chuckled to himself, "Yes William, I'm askin' you to join my gang in Seattle. You'll have to put in hard work in order to earn my trust and the trust of those around you. It won't all be as easy as robbing a carriage on the open plains. It'll be different than what we were used to, but I think you could make the change just as I did." John scooped a small amount of stew into his bowl for seconds and finally put the gun back in its holster.

".....Well.....I think I don't have much of a choice if I want to survive.....but what's to stop the law from grabbing me with the bounty on my head once we're in Seattle?" William asked.

"That's a fine question. The law in Seattle is paid by and influenced by the Italian mob. Which is why I've been able to survive once I joined underneath Coltrane's. Not only is it a profitable decision, but it's a safe one as well. So, what do you say?" John place a spoonful of stew in his mouth and savored the good taste.

"Yes. I'm in." William was quick and confident in his answer which made John smile. He was hoping that he wouldn't have to end up shooting the young man. 

"Now, how about we go get you a horse for yourself from those fine men over in that other encampment?" John smiled. It was a little while since he had a bit of good 'ol fun.

William brought a hand to his forehead and pushed his hair back. He felt the dried dirt mixing with the sweat and probably some of the old man's blood in his hair.

A horse would come in handy, yes. However, I haven't slept since last night, do you mind if I rest for a bit before?

By all means. John walked up to his saddle and grabbed a small bag from it. I'll wake you before dawn. And threw it at William so he would have something to lay his head on.

William laid down awake for a while, feeling the soft breeze on his face and the warm fire at his side, thinking about all he had still to come down on his path. He had once met a man in Los Angeles who was part of this Italian mob. He wasn't so sure about whether these fellas from Seattle were anything close to what those LA gangsters were like. But when he met Santo the two sparked a great friendship together. He was a great getaway driver and William was fast at convincing the bank owners to get their coffers open. The two soon had a few partners running deals with them, and the family his friend belonged to was very appreciative of his business strategies, despite the fact that he wasn't one bit Italian, and that the Irish mob was moving into town with an aggressive stance towards them. Their appreciation was so high that one day, he was invited by one of the family capos to meet with the bosses and discuss a proper integration of his within the family.

He passed by the fancy room where a dining table had been set, and followed Santo into a smaller room where five other men were standing, dressed with classy suits like most Italians would be known to. Each at their turn greeted him warmly, but neither of them gave their names, and then someone grabbed him from the back, locking his arms, and each as they had greeted him with a smiled, complimented him with a punch on his stomach until he fell down.

"Are you working for Dwyer?" "Who sent you to work with us?" "I've seen you down their street the other day." Everyone had their share of hate towards him despite the fact that he had never seen any of them before, or had any connections to the Irish people. He felt a gun being pushed against his face and when he opened his eyes he saw Santo with a very red distorted face, shaking. "Wake up." He said. "Wake up!"
 

"Wake up mate!" John kicked the bag below William's head. "It's almost sunrise, and you were grunting. Bad dreams?"

William sat up and shook his head. "Let's go."

The two lifted camp and after saddling the horse they walked closer to the camp where the thugs were, behind some boulders. It was dark but they could see one of the men was sitting next to a now dead campfire.

"How much do you want to bet that one is sleeping as well?" William asked.

"I'm going to leave my horse back here, and we're both going to sneak up on them. You said there were five of them in there right?"

William nodded. "Aye. Two on the far right, there's another one next to the one who is seated and there's someone inside that tent. That must be the boss. I'll get the one who is supposed to be on guard. Can you get the two farther to the other side?"

John nodded, and the two men sneaked in, almost synchronized, a dagger in each one's hand and guns on the ready. Trying to avoid any dead grass or sticks, they slid inside the camp without raising any alarms. William stood behind the one seating and waited for John to approach the two men that were laying next to each other. As he did, John looked over to his partner, who was just a back silhouette in front of dark blue sky, between them there was only the snoring coming from inside the tent.

William pushed the man's head back as his dagger sliced the man's throat. At his turn, John's dagger went deep into the neck of one of the two men laying in front of him, the thumping sound however was loud enough to wake the other one up. He rolled to the side and tried to get up, but just as a yell was about to come out, the dagger came out skillfully and forward again into this one's mouth from below, nailing the tongue to the top of his mouth. John left the dagger and took the gun from it's holster, shooting the man in the head and turning to the other one who was still groaning and contorting in the ground.

William was still holding his target. Pushing his head back by the mouth with the dagger now buried in the poor man's back, while he arched and tried to walk back and forth. John's shot was loud enough to wake up the entire camp and now the other one laying close by had woken. "Shit!" He yelled, before opening fire at the two men locked in a deathly embrace. The bullets met his partner's stomach and chest before William was able to grab his gun.

Just as William was starting to unload lead on him, someone came out of the tent with a shotgun in hand. This one was definitely the leader, he was huge and angry. "Wake up!" He yelled, and then aimed at the man shooting at his partner. Before he could shoot however, John appeared from behind him and shot his head twice at point-blank.

William dropped the dead thug and checked to see if the other one was still alive before turning to JohnMarston.

"That was insane!" William said, and John chuckled. "I take it you're not injured. I'll see what we can take with us, prepare the horses, we can make quite a few with them on our next stop."

John found some clean cloths for William inside the tent and also a pair of colt revolvers in impeccable condition. After saddling one, and locking the reins of the other horses to his and John's saddles, William noticed that the horses had been stolen. So before leaving, they laid the five men next to each other with a sign around each's neck saying: "Horse Thief".

John was impressed with the the kids ability that he had shown so far, although there would still be some experience to gain along the way. It wasn't that long ago that he was also on the run and without a gang to call home. The outlaw life was fading and men were who tried to keep it alive were finding themselves dead. Many friends had found their necks in nooses or with a bullet in the back over the years. The chance he was getting in Seattle to be apart of something different and something bigger was one that he couldn't pass up if he wanted to save himself from that same fate. 

He looked over at William who was now riding beside him and saw that he was off in his own thoughts as well...

"You make sure to keep those colt revolvers nice and clean. They'll save your life more than once while you're ridin with me. The life of organized crime ain't much safer than that of small outlaw gangs. You still interested in coming back to Seattle with me after all that, right?" John smirked hoping the action hadn't scared him off. 

The situation he was in now was a bit too familiar to him....

<font color="#FF9900" size="1">Las Cruces, New Mexico</font>

On the Road, 1915 

The sun was as unforgiving as ever and the need for water was rising as John and Frank were riding along the road. There was a long stretch of nothingness that they had been making their way through in order to get to Las Cruces, New Mexico. A retired lawman turned crook had given them a good bit of information on a side business there that was bringing in plenty of money. The law had driven them more and more south away from the rest of the gang so they figured they'd try to score some cash before circling back north. 

Finally some building came into view on the horizon which gave them some motivation to push their horses harder in order to reach the town sooner. The building came upon them quickly and the saloon was their first stop. As they hopped off their horses and tied them up to the posts in front of the building John felt the need to ask Frank something...

"You sure you still want to be apart of this gang Frank? You've only been with us long enough to see one big mess of a job. Then get chased this far south with me as your only company. I wouldn't honestly blame ya if you wanted out now." John chuckled a bit at their misfortune since the young kid joined up with them.

"I ain't known much of a life or any sort of excitement before I met you and the rest of the Van Der Linde Gang John. So I'm in this till the very end whether that's tomorrow or years from now." The kid had some spunk to him, but that excitement could get men killed just as quick as being dumb.

"Well let's not get too far ahead of ourselves with the whole idea of dying. We just rode through a whole lot of nothing and I'd rather think about the nice drinks and ladies inside this here saloon instead." John patted Frank on the shoulder and they made their way inside. 

After a few drinks and some good laughs between the two John started to notice something was off inside the saloon....

The bartender was a bit sloppy with his pouring and the men playing poker weren't quite rowdy enough. Besides that, the women seemed on edge and barely even came by to flirt or inquire about services. That was when John finally saw the pistol slightly sticking out from the back of the Bartender's pants where he had hidden it. 

"Fuck..." John said under his breath as he realized the law must have guessed where they would be heading. That or the intel they got was bogus and only meant to set them up. 

John turned slightly towards Frank who had a dumb grin still on his face, "Frank keep that dumb look on your face while I speak. The bartender and every other man in here is law. We're trapped and it ain't good. I count the bartender, the five playing poker, and the other three men sitting about the saloon with their drinks that they've barely touched."

The color seemed to have left Frank's face, but at least he kept that dumb look upon his face which would hopefully keep them alive long enough for them to make the first move. 

John deciding to take over let out a large bit of laughter while patting Frank on the back, "You aren't the brightest tool in the shed Frank, but god do you deserve another drink after that long ride. Hey! Barkeep can you get my friend here another glass of whiskey?"

As the bartender finally came over and began to pour, John quick as lighting pulled one of his revolvers and placed it against the man's chest. Without a second thought he pulled the trigger blowing the man back against the bottles behind the bar causing all sorts of noise and mess.

"Go! Behind the bar kid!" John yelled as they dove over the bar.

A bullet winged john in his left shoulder as he fell to the ground. The sound of shots filled the saloon and bottles began shattering and showering them with alcohol. Frank had his revolvers drawn and seemed to be pumping himself up. Everything went into slow motion for John....

"Nooo!...." John reached to try to stop him, but his left shoulder limited his ability to reach out as Frank rose from behind the bar and began to fire.

Four shots.....four shots was all he got off before he was filled with lead. His body slumped to the ground next to John, lifeless. The anger and frustration raged within John. Frank hadn't even made it to 20 years old and John led him right into a trap. With a deep breath John picked up his revolver and slid to the end of the bar. 

He peered around the corner to see one of the men dragging his friend away, "At least Frank got one of 'em." John thought to himself. 

Another two were slowly creeping up on the bar so John slid out in order to be below their field of view firing three shots and dropping the two of them to the ground. The others began firing upon him so he rolled and knocked over a table in front of himself. One bullet came through the table and hit him in the right leg. 

"Ahhhhh!" The pain was immense as it added to his already injured shoulder. 

There were still five other lawmen in the saloon with him. His extra ammunition was on his horse and all he had left was three bullets in one gun and six in the other. The odds were not good that he'd actually get the rest of them with just nine bullets. Another volley of bullets came in and one busted through and went right through his right side. This time the pain dropped him to the floor and made him release his gun. 

The remaining men came charging after they saw John's gun slide from behind the table and they all pointed their guns at him. He reached for his revolver and one man stepped on his wrist.

"This is the end of the line for you Marston. The noose is waiting for you." He grinned at John with the thought of his death on his mind. 

John was about to say something to the man looking him straight in the eyes when blood burst out of his head. Shots rang out in succession dropping each of the lawmen as they ran for cover. The last lawman was hiding behind the table next to John. Even with all the pain of his injuries, John pulled out his knife and grabbed the man from behind. The knife sank into his neck and John fell back to the floor with no energy left. Blood was flowing now from his wounds....

Dutch came into view, "John! John! Are you alright? Where is Frank?"

John slowly pointed to behind the bar...

"Javier go check on Frank! The rest of you help get John outside and see to his wounds. I don't know if you'll make it John, but we aren't giving up on you boy. You're one stubborn bastard." Those were the last words before John passed out.

John realized he had missed whatever it was William began to say to him as he shook himself out of his deep thoughts. This situation was a bit too similar to his time with Frank. This young man WilliamWalker reminded him too much of Frank with his energy and so many years left ahead of him.

"I'm serious William, this life will always be dangerous. You could do anything else if you tried or you could get a normal job and earn an honest living. Plenty of people I've worked with are now six feet under and I'm sure others will follow." John's expression and mood had changed quite a bit at the memories of Frank.

He looked up from his horse to William who was still looking at John and waiting for a chance to respond....

"Of course I am." Will replied with a natural conviction. "I might have been a bit too eager in accepting your offer, but I'm not the sort of person to act on a whim! I've been thinking about changing my business style for a while now and don't take me wrong, yours came as if an answer had been delivered from the gods themselves." He chuckled. "I don't take it for granted either. I will work my way up whatever goals you have set your mind into, have no doub..." He talked a bit before noticing that John wasn't even paying attention.
 

"You could get a normal job and earn an honest living."

It resounded awfully to what he disliked the most, that people cared too much for him. He didn't want Marston to be another person telling him that he was "wasting his potential". That he ought to drink less, rest more and stop wasting his time around easy schemes with low pay and high risk. He was very aware of what he ought to do. He knew hard work and earnest living much better than most goons he had crossed path with. Everyone's an honest man until they can get all five fingers into your pocket, and he wasn't very keen on being the next fool on the line to collect a deflated pension from a country he had given his entire life to, and be ever so grateful of those meager crumbs.

"I don't know where I'm headed but I'm not going that way Mr. Marston." John looked at him with a surprised look on his face. He was ready to strike a joke but William continued. "My father was an educated man, you see? A farmer. But he knew his way around making decent money. We were driving a car through San Francisco before most people even entered a stagecoach, but I spent most of my early days working with him in his orchards and practicing my shooting skills so he could take me hunting. I thought I'd be doing that for the rest of my life, it was hard work but it was honest."

John kept a straight face, without saying a word. William was not the type to reminisce about the past but John seemed to be an honest listener. And if they were going to work together and in a line of work that could go as personal and demanding on one's character as the Italian mob, he'd better keep the "plates clean" with at least one person to count on with all the honesty he would need to spare later on.

"When I was of age, he sent me to Berkeley so I could study commerce and have a proper education, and that's when things went south. Before I knew it my father died, and his company had ceased his entire business, the land, the cars, most of everything besides the house. I was told to finish my studies and I could be hired. Have a decent position in the company." William shook his head and sighed. "Fucking crooks. I didn't finish anything though, I just robbed my dad's car back from one of their store houses. I had the keys anyways. So I drove south to LA and joined a gang there. It didn't work out, the Italians thought I was affiliated with the Irish mob so I had to run away. Been living in between California and Texas in the past six years, doing heists, robbing banks and trains."

"There is not a whole lot for me back in there. I have alot more to offer in this path, and I'm committed to it."