Archive for the ‘Images’ Category

A bad man cometh…

Posted: November 30, 2012 by ebtherabbit in Images, Story
Tags: , , , ,

EB knew that trouble was brewing. Like a storm on the event horizon of the intergalactic plane or just the rank smell of the unwashed masses, he knew it.  EB had been working this beat, the lonely side of nowhere in Vegas for a long time.

It grew on you if your let it.

EB had learned long ago though, to keep moving. Don’t get too close or too deep with anyone. Because when you trusted them, not only would they betray you, but at the worst possible time. So just keep moving…

bad-man-comes-PAINT-RAIN-v1Early that morning, a inbound fast mover settled onto the desert floor. The craft came in hard and low, showing up as a blip on the radar for only the briefest moment. Earth traffic controllers (ETC) at the Vegas Intergalactic Port noted but disregarded it as hash trash or space junk. The ship was a lander, cheaply made one time use for getting down a gravity well. The skin of the craft still smoked from the burn of atmospheric reentry.

A hatchway creaked open with a puff of corrosion. From the dark interior, a man moved forward climbing down onto the desert floor. Raising his arms over his his head, he stretched and roared in the dark morning air. In the distance, he could see the lights of Vegas. In the distance he knew a rabbit was going to die. The man pulled the slide back on his gun, racking a bullet into the chamber. Flipping the safety off, he shoved the gun into the back of his pants. Today was to be a day of vengeance. Today EB was going to die. It didn’t matter where, it didn’t matter how, it just mattered that he would breath no more. With that thought in his mind, the man started walking toward Vegas.

As he walked, the man though about what he had lost. A sense of hollowness, when there is nothing left but the conclusion. Once this was done, he would rest. Long into the night. Perhaps in this desert place, away from the city and it distractions. The sweet release of peace without the burning emptiness that he ever felt in his heart.

There was once a girl. daughterHis daughter that brought him joy in way he had never know. Her sweet voice, her funny laughter and her brilliant  mind. But that was long ago, he spoke to himself. I shall not be distracted. I will rest when this is over and on the morrow.

The man came with only what he was wearing. No luggage. No tooth brush. No soul. His gun had twelve rounds in it. One for every sorrow. One for every joint in a rabbit’s body he thought. Feet, knees and hips. Hands, elbows and shoulders. Then it would be over. Then he would rest.

The morn came stingingly bright. Burning his eyes and his heart. His flesh felt weary as he entered the Vegas strip. He didn’t know where he was going, he just knew the feeling that guided him. The man walked on. Past the crappy older casinos on the out skirts of the strip. toward the “Disney Land” like atmosphere of the massive casinos.

Hookers solicited him. A good time honey they promised. There wasn’t any good times to be had here or anywhere. To look for something he could find was a pain he just couldn’t take anymore. Hope had fled like the morning mist from the rising sun. All that remained was just the burning.

Walking along he realized he was thirsty. He had been walking for six hours and had covered almost twenty one miles. The man entered a seven eleven and purchased a large quart of water and some beef jerky. He sat on the sidewalk outside and drank the water. The feeling of cool permeated his throat as he drank. This awoke a feeling of hunger in him. He quickly ripped open the jerky and started to chew a great handful. Soon he was pouring the bag into his mouth spill jerky and crumbs onto himself and the ground.

A women walk past him with a disdainful look. Another bum on the strip. Another day in Vegas.

His hunger and thirst satiated. The man looked about and realized he was close to east Cheyenne avenue. Closer. He could feel it stronger now. The rabbit was close. Ducking down an ally, he reached behind him and pulled out his gun. The comforting weight of his gun brought an almost peace to him. Or at least a sense of resolution. He could live with that. Or die with it. Either way, it would be over. And if there was a heaven or hell or something on the other side he would get to see his daughter again. Damn the gods, he wished for that above all else.

Making sure his shirt covered his gun tucked into his belt, he quickly started walking. Down Cheyenne he walked. Dust stinging his eyes he continued forward. The area where he was walking was a down trodden blighted area. Industrial construction yards filled with equipment that were begging to rust covered acres of land.The man continued to walk. As another hour passed he began to loose hope. Perhaps he had lost the trail? The feeling he’d had when he started this journey seemed to have deserted him. With that though, he stopped abruptly and gazed wildly about. Sanity seem to hold it’s claim only by the slimmest of threads. That’s when he saw the the sign. In front of an old two story building. Swedish massages, Book keeping and Tax prep. The last line was “Problems? Solutions! EB the Rabbit – Private Detective 702-555-1212. Time seem to slow for him as he started to shake. His hands trembling, he reached for his gun. Holding it down at his side he headed for the building entrance.

The halls were dark marred paneling with a carpet of indeterminate color. He felt his feet dragging as he walked along the hall. At he end of the hall a door sign read “EB the Rabbit – Private Detective”. Pulling his gun up level in his right hand, he reached forward with his left hand to open the door. The door knob turned toward the right clicking as the lock disengaged. Shoving the door open with a bang the man saw that the office was empty. As he looked around, he notice another door.

Gun-v3-sm

His vision narrowed and the knob on the door started to turn. Slowly it seemed to turn. He raised his gun trembling and pointed it toward the door. Feeling like he couldn’t hold the gun much longer, he pressed on trigger. The door opening, the shock rang out as the 9mm bullet departed the muzzle of his gun. The door as opened as the bullet crashed into the person coming through.

It wasn’t a rabbit.

Blood dripped down from his chest. He felt so tired. He just wanted to sleep for a while , just a while. As he began to slowly crumple down to the floor, he noticed that there was a girl on the floor. She looked very familiar. She whispers as he fell next to her in the spreading pool of blood on the wooden flood… Dad.

………………..

EB felt the dark omen that morning. He had lived to tell the tale, but Candy didn’t. Neither did her Dad. Jesus, what happened to him? EB holstered his weapon, picked up the phone to call the police and felt a tear roll down his furry rabbit cheek…