September 5, 1890
Dear Momma --
Casey's gone.
And I took my first head today.
I know that I'd have to write both of those statements eventually. But I'd hoped they'd be a lot longer in coming.
I don't like to kill -- I never have, although I've had to become good at it to defend myself, my friends, and this small, dusty town that we love. And after I awoke from being shot down in the street, I've liked it even less. But again, this time with a sword instead of a gun, I've become good at it. With an group of teachers like mine, I didn't have much choice! But that's ok. We may argue a lot, but we're still family -- and I think we always will be, whether we're in the same town or scattered across half the planet.
But I was never sure if I could kill in cold blood. Take the head of a man I'd beaten.
I've been Immortal nearly 5 years now, and I'd always allowed one of my teachers to take any of the rare challenges that came along. They insisted on it -- none of them wanted me fighting for myself until they were sure that I was strong enough (physically and mentally) to handle it. But there was no way in hell that I was going to let one of the others take down this bastard.
The son of a bitch killed my wife!
oh...oh, God, I didn't think it would hurt this much to actually put the words in writing. But Casey's dead -- and I have to figure out how to go on without her. It helps, a bit, seeing Chris sitting at the next table as I write this between sips of whiskey. I can see the look of experience in his eyes. He's been here before, and it helps to know that I'm not alone in the pain. That while I'm searching for answers, there's someone watching my back.
I've been halfheartedly trying to understand the new images in the back of my head for hours now, trying to figure out why. Why here? Why Casey? It feels like I'm flogging a dead horse -- working a lot, but not getting anywhere. Which is probably for the best - any explanation would probably just make me angrier at a guy I've killed once already.
It took us three days to track him down. He hadn't tried to hide the trail when he rode away from the cabin Casey and I had shared, but he'd had more than half a day's head start, and Chris'd refused to kill the horses to catch him. I knew he was right, but that didn't make it any easier to wait. Originally we'd planned to take him back into town for the Judge to deal with. Even I'd agreed to it. It wasn't easy, but I still believe in justice. And as a sheriff, I had my own oaths to uphold -- I know that Casey, wherever she is now, would have wanted it that way.
But it couldn't work out like that. The five of us in the posse had only barely started to surround the bastard's small camp that twilight night, when I felt the Buzz ring through the back of my mind, and saw his head turn straight towards the shadowy boulder that I was crouching behind. As he turned, the sword in his hands flashed in the firelight, and I knew we didn't dare take him in alive. And I'm not sure, by that point, that I wanted to. So I holstered my pistols, stood up, and drew my sword.
The rest of the challenge and the fight are still just fragments of memory, and I don't really mind. Maybe when this is further in my past, I'll remember more. The next thing that's truly clear was the bastard's face as he crumpled in front of me, when I pulled my sword out of his gut. He knew he'd lost, but he still looked me in the eye as I drew back and said "This is for Casey", as I swung for his neck. His head went flying across the desert sand as his body hit the ground. I had just about enough time for two deep breaths before the lightning came.
All the guys had tried to tell me what a Quickening felt like -- I'd even witnessed a few -- but there's nothing quite like taking one yourself. It's.... I don't know... it's like walking through a fire that burns your soul instead of your body... having to concentrate on the center of who you are, so that the other presence in your mind has no place to hide... nowhere to take up residence... no way to take over... a mixture of the worst of Hell and the best of Heaven... And then, all at once, it was over. And I collapsed on the ground, gasping for air.
We camped there that night, after two of the guys tossed what was left of the bastard over a nearby cliff for the wolves and coyotes. It took us three more days to get back to town. We rode in this evening and I went to the boarding house to get some rest, but couldn't stop thinking about what happened this week enough to be able to sleep, despite my level of tiredness. So I went down to the saloon to have a few drinks and catch up in my journal.
I think I can sleep now, Momma, or at least I'm going to try again. I don't know what's going to happen next in my life -- but I can think about that tomorrow.
You and Casey take good care of each other up there in heaven for me, OK? I think you'll get along. After all, she worried about me almost as much as you did, even after I became Immortal. She made me promise that - whenever she died - that I'd go on. That I'd do my best to have a good life, and to be happy. And I'm going to try -- so tell her that I haven't forgotten my promise -- and I never will.
All my love to you both...
JD
