“Billy! Billy!”

Billy’s body shook as Damian’s sickly face faded into view, his eyes inches away from Billy’s. His eyelids were outstretched, showing the entirety of his sclera.

Billy wheezed, turning away and covering his mouth with his left arm as he hacked. Damian released his grip from Billy’s shoulder, stepping away.

The cowboy’s hands were dry and cut. Looking at his arms, and behind his back, he confirmed that his entire backside was covered dust and dirt. He could also feel the hair on the back of his head was tangled and sandy.

“Goddamn it, what happened?” Billy shouted.

“You were lying here, knocked out when I got up. We better get going before the owner of this property spots us.”

Instinctively, Billy looked down at his watch. 07:24. Not too late.

Damian grabbed Billy’s jacket from the empty stable.

“Thanks Billy,” Damian said, a small chuckle escaping as he handed him the jacket, which was clean.

The fuck? Does he think this is funny?

Billy snatched the jacket from Damian’s hands. He didn’t want to put it on, the dirt would probably get on the inside of his jacket, and he’d never be able to get it out. Hesitantly, he slid his arms through the sleeves.

Continuing along the main road northwards, Billy and Damian got farther and farther away from the port square. The outskirts of the town, past the older district, was more spread out. The few properties weren’t reminiscent of the compact, multi-windowed, pastel-coloured houses seen near the port, nor of the outdated cobble and brick houses that surrounded the inner metropolis. They were large properties, mostly garden or farmland, with large chateaus sitting centrefold.

“There it is," Billy pointed with a wavering finger towards one of the houses; a huge, rectangular creme chateau with several floors, denoted by the symmetrical pillars and windows. A tall iron fence separated the property from the road, and even inside a maze of short green hedges sat between them and the mansion—although it wasn’t hidden at all, due to its massive size and height.

Damian ogled at the mansion with wide eyes. From the right angle, Billy could peer through the gaps between the iron bars and the bushes, and he could see the two twin white doors that led into the manor, into his old home.

“Lionel! Lionel!” Hurried knocking came from behind the white double doors. Billy looked up from the chessboard to the door, as his father got up from the opposite side of it, moving towards the door. He turned his hand and there was a steely click, and swung open the left side door, revealing the sound of deafening rain. In the doorway, a slender, middle-aged woman with drenched black hair held a small toddler in her arms, but naked as a newborn babe, and acting as such.

“Barbara! What are you doing out? I thought you were asleep!," the man shouted. “And who is this?”

“I was feeling sick and wanted some tea, but we were out. So I went along to the tea shop-,"

“The tea shop is closed at this hour, as always," the man replied.

“I know, I wasn’t thinking straight. Of course, when I got there, the store was closed and the door was shut, and then my headache just worsened. And then I thought I heard a faint scream-”

“Why would you chase after a scream in the middle of the night?”

“It sounded like a young child. I ran towards the sound, which sounded like it was coming from the forest, and then I found this little boy, all alone, crying," the woman coddled the little boy.

Billy’s father stood in the doorway, flabbergasted. “Well, come inside.”

His mother looked to his father with pleading eyes, as Billy’s father shut the door behind them. “We have to take him in. This child doesn’t have anywhere else to go.”

Looking at the child with bewilderment, the man took a deep breath, turned, and then kneeled down to Billy’s level.

“What do you think, Billy? Do you want to have a baby brother?”

Billy looked from his dad’s clownish grin to the wide, shining dark eyes of the baby, staring at him from his mother’s arms.

Those eyes hadn’t changed one bit. Hands gripping the gate, Damian turned back to Billy after he had gotten a good look at their old house.

“It’s all coming back to me now. I remember how fun it was playing Zanro the Hunter in there, we were so short and small that we could weave around the bushes without seeing each other,” Damian said. “It felt like an actual hunt, on a grand scale.”

Billy smiled. “I’m glad you remember something.”

Staring intently at the doors, Billy thought maybe someone would come out from the house to greet them. Of course, no one came. It was silent, except for the cawing of crows. There was no movement, except for a squirrel running up the bushes. The household was a resting gator with open eyes—it showed signs of life, but none of motion.

“Well, let’s go on,” Billy said, turning away from the house and redirecting northwards once more.

Damian nodded, and the two men continued along the road.

After exiting the town’s three ‘layers’, the cowboy had finally reached his destination. Damian looked up for the sun— it was blocked by grey, but he could see some light sticking through at approximately forty-five degrees above the eastern horizon. Tapping him on the shoulder, Billy showed Damian his watch— 07:49, they were just a few minutes late. That was probably a good thing, the attendees had already gathered in the centre of the cemetery, dressed in all-black. They wouldn’t pay attention to Billy’s arrival.

I just wanted it to be you and me, but it doesn’t matter. Five years, dad. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, but I know you were a sucker for round numbers, so I thought this would be a good one.

As Billy strutted down the hill, his eyes watered. It was like a humble procession; the two stone pillars on either side of the gap that Billy walked through, a clear, centred line of sight between himself and his destination. The chirping birds, usually an needless annoyance, were the choir to Billy’s ceremonial march.

The sound of galloping horses appeared in his mind, as if they were leading him to his destination, magical Pegasi gloriously making way for his reunification.

“Stop right there! You’re under arrest for the murder of Lionel Henry Gruissem!”

Billy’s euphoric trance was interrupted by the boisterous voice. Towering atop the hill stood six lovely couples, or no, threesomes: six men on six horses, carrying six muskets. Their muskets pointed down on Billy, they were an invading army who had breached the enemy lines and had their weapons pointed into the trenches at the one helpless remaining soldier.

Billy stood in shock. How did they find us?

Billy didn’t know what to do, so he did what he always knew to do when he didn’t know what to do: he slowed things down.

And when you slow things down, you often find what you’re looking for.

Hidden behind the tall legs of the horses was a short, stout man with a small nest of thin white hair and a wrinkled face. Mr. Cantas, the man they had visited just the day before.

Billy pulled out his gun and aimed it between the legs of the horses, pointing it at the head of the bald white man.

“Billy, no!," Damian jumped towards Billy, tackling him to the ground. The revolver slid out of Billy’s hand, tumbling down the hill.

“Grab them! And get that toy musket, or whatever that thing is!" the front man yelled, and the other guards chuckled, planting their boots on the ground. Three of the men hustled over, one headed straight to grab the revolver while the other two pointed their muskets at the two scrambling men.

Billy shoved Damian off his chest, and was greeted by the muzzle of the musket in his face.

“Stand up and put your hands behind your back,” the guard commanded.

Billy and Damian complied, and then two of the other guards came over, grabbing their arms and tying rope around their wrists. The rough rope etched into Billy’s skin.

“Get moving," the guard pushed Billy up the hill, and the tied-up men began walking. The guards got back on their horses, ready to tug him and Damian towards their demise. Billy got one last look towards the graveyard where his father laid to rest, the very father that he was accused of murdering all those years ago.