Short Story: The Wagon Driver

This is a short story that leads into our third one-shot: The Hunt

The sun beat down on the man driving the wagon. He wiped his brow and scanned the horizon, never slowing down the horse’s pace. He had been hired by the Lammier Mining Company to carry supplies to a new operation out in Hillcrest. He had done many such contract jobs but something was different this time. The hairs stood up on the back of his neck and he felt like he was being watched.

"I must be losing my mind, Millie," he said to his horse, laughing slightly, "Ain’t no one around fer miles, just us crazies. What am I so worried about? Sun must be gettn' to me!"

Millie continued on her way.

Suddenly, a shadow appeared in the distance and started approaching. The driver shifted to put a hand on the rifle by his side. As he squinted to get a better look at what was ahead, he heard horses gallop up from both sides. A rifle shot rang out.

"If you done value your life, you’d better stop that there wagon!" A deep booming voice shouted out.

Millie whinnied and kicked. It was all the driver could do to calm her down enough to stop. "Easy girl, easy, ain’t no point in gettn' all worked up. We ain’t gonna outrun these fellas with this heavy load and we ain’t gonna try."

Soon, the riders were on either side of the wagon, their guns pointed at the driver. He put his hands up. "Easy fellas, I ain’t gonna cause any trouble and I ain’t got no money, just this here cargo." Even more sweat dripped down his face, and his eyes darted back and forth between the three armed men. They were dressed all the same: dark dusters covered in dirt and filth from the trail, wide brimmed hats low over their eyes, and red bandanas that covered their faces. Their eyes were hard and severe.

"That cargo you’re a hauln' is exactly what we want!" The shadow from ahead drew closer. It was a man on a black horse. "Now, why don’t you step down off the wagon and leave that there gun behind?"

At the sight of him, the driver began to shake. He was tall, taller than the rest. He dressed similar to the others except no bandana hid his heavily scarred face. His mouth was set with a smirk. His eyes were dark as night and filled with a calculated hate.

"O…​ Okay, mister…​ I don’t want no trouble. You fellas just take what you want. Just please, don’t kill me…​ or poor Millie!" The driver stammered as he climbed down, his eyes never leaving the man with the scarred face.

"Relax old-timer, if we killed you, how would Lammier know who was after him, huh?" the leader said in a raspy voice and rode in closer to the driver. "And I want him to know!" He laughed and the driver couldn’t help but shudder at the sinister sound.

Before long, the men had unhitched Millie then hitched one of their own horses to the wagon. The driver was left standing on the trail holding Millie’s reins.

"Now you go back to Star City and you tell Lammier and his cronies that Cane sends his regards," the leader said to the driver. "And if he wants to send more supplies to that new mining operation of his, well, we look forward to relieving him of those as well!" He began to laugh. "You tell him that if he wants this to end, he knows what he needs to do." The riders turned and rode off.

"Well, Millie, at least we’re safe," the man said, petting the horse’s face. "But I’m gonna need a strong drink once we get back to Star City."