Lara Croft's Wild West Adventureã
Tomb Raider Fan Fiction
Lara Croft's Wild West Adventureã
Tomb Raider Fan Fiction
If you arrived here via a search engine, you can
click here to go to the beginning of the story.
Chapter Three - Silverado
A subdued group of people emerged from the doctor's office ninety minutes later. "Alive" again when the doctor swiped their nametags through a device similar to a credit card reader, they were discouraged by their first encounter with the reality of Silverado. And having to wait the mandatory hour after being made alive again didn't help their mood at all.
Standing beside the railroad track, they had watched in silence when the train pulled away without them. The outlaw gang had mounted their horses and Spade pointed down the track. "Town's that way, folks," he called. "Just remember what I told you: This is MY town. Stay outta my way or there'll be trouble."
They'd been forced to walk a mile and a half in the hot sun, and Lara could tell some of the cockiness had been knocked out of them. For her part, she was enjoying herself immensely, and she watched the reactions of the others with great interest.
"Now what?" asked Billy the Kid as they stood in the middle of the street.
"What'd you expect, Billy?" replied Wyatt. "You think you'd just come ridin' in and start shootin' up the town?"
"Well, why not?" Billy retorted. "We're payin' a fortune for this week. We should be able to do what we want."
"I think it's great," put in Hickcock. "Whoever's runnin' this show has their act together pretty well. Sure, it's a little different than I expected, but so what?"
"Billy's right," argued John Wesley Hardin. "I came here expecting to rob a bank and shoot a bunch o' lawmen. Now we've got nothing. Anyone here got money to pay for a meal or a hotel room?" Before leaving Reception Station, they'd been given special "Silverado Dollars," the official currency of Silverado, to pay for their food and lodging. Now they were penniless, thanks to Spade and his outfit.
As the conversation flowed around her, Lara studied the others. Hickcock and Belle were genuinely having a good time. Wyatt she wasn't sure about. There was something about him that wasn't quite right, but she couldn't decide what it was. Billy and John Wesley were a couple of spoiled brats and she wondered if they'd last the full week.
She glanced fondly at Little Britches. The young woman's eyes were alive with interest, her glance darting back and forth as she studied her surroundings. She'd handled herself well on the train. But she hadn't said much since getting killed, and Lara wondered what she was thinking.
Hearing footsteps to her left, Lara turned to see a man coming up the wooden sidewalk toward them. Barrel-chested and well over six feet, he was an imposing presence, and pinned to his shirt opposite his nametag was a badge.
"Howdy, folks," he called, tipping his hat. "I'm Matt Branson, sheriff of Silverado. I heard you had a run-in with the Spade gang."
Billy wasted no time. "What the heck's goin' on, sheriff?" he complained. "I didn't come all the way out here to be left with nothing but my pants."
"Yeah," agreed John Wesley. "How are we supposed to eat or sleep without money?"
Branson scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Well now, I sure am sorry to hear about your troubles, fellas, but the town is not responsible if you get robbed or killed. When you left Reception Station, Slim told you to be ready. Seems to me you were mighty careless to get held up like that."
"Now wait a minute…" replied Billy hotly.
The sheriff held up his hand for silence. "On the way over here, I discussed your situation with the Mayor. He's arranged for the town to pay for your meals and your hotel room until the next train leaves for Reception Station. That's tomorrow morning at ten. Any of you who want to go back on the train are welcome to do so. You'll get a fifty percent refund."
"What a rip off!" declared John Wesley.
"You got that right," agreed Billy. "Which way's the blasted restaurant, anyway. I'm starved."
Branson pointed across the street. "Miss Jenny's Café is right over there. And, of course, the hotel has a dining room, too."
With a final glare at the sheriff, the two young men headed across the street.
"Sheriff," asked Belle. "Were you serious about us getting only one day's food and lodging."
"Yes, ma'am," Branson replied still watching Billy and John Wesley. Then he turned to face them. "Havin' to fend for yourself is part of your adventure, folks. Are you gonna stand around and complain? Or are you gonna do something about it?" He waved a hand. "This place is set up to be a challenge. You've got the town and 5000 acres to explore. How you do it is up to you." He tipped his hat again and turned away. "Y'all have a nice day."
* * * * *
Lara turned the key and pushed open the door of her hotel room. The corner room was larger than she expected. A pair of twin beds flanked the side window and she was glad they looked like modern beds, not some straw-filled thing from the last century. A large, antique dresser with an old-fashioned mirror stood against one wall and an equally old-fashioned clothes closet stood against the other. An oil-filled lantern sat atop the clothes closet and a pair of small straight-backed chairs completed the room's furniture.
"No TV set?" asked Little Britches, coming in behind her.
Lara smiled. "No phone either. It is quite satisfactory." It would be nice to forget the world for a few days. Her staff knew how to get hold of her, but had been instructed not to call unless it was an emergency.
"The dining room was great, too. I was famished. Hey, look here," Britches said when she opened the closet. "They delivered the rest of our clothes. I was afraid I'd have to spend the whole week in this outfit."
Lara sat on her bed. "Britches, come over and sit down a minute, would you?"
Puzzled, the younger woman joined her and sat down on the other bed.
"Are you all right?"
"All right?" Britches replied. "I don't understand."
"I saw your face when the man shot you this morning. And you haven't said much since then."
The blonde woman's face paled. She looked down at the floor and when she spoke her voice was very quiet. "I saw him standin' in the door, and I forgot for a minute that it was just pretend. When he pointed that gun at me, I felt so helpless. I knew I was gonna die and there wasn't a thing I could do about it. And when he fired, and I felt something hit me, I…I thought I'd really been shot."
For a moment Britches was silent. Then she looked up. "I've been practicing fast-draw a long time, Annie. I guess I was expectin' to come in here and show everybody how good I am, that sorta thing. But this was so different. I was scared."
Lara got up and went to sit beside her, slipping an arm around Britches' shoulders.
"I thought you were very brave."
The younger woman's eyes grew wide. "Really?"
"Of course. Your instincts and the way you handled yourself were just right." Lara smiled. "I'm proud to have you as my partner."
"But what about…"
Lara tightened her arm around Britches' shoulders. "You did just fine, young lady. It's perfectly all right to be afraid. Everybody is in a dangerous situation. But you didn't freeze up like Doc Holiday and his wife."
Britches turned to face her. "Who are you, Annie? You seem so sure of yourself. You always seem to know what to do. And I never seen anybody handle guns the way you do."
Lara smiled. "Sorry, but I can't tell you. Let's just say I've been around the block a few times. Ask me again when the week's over. Maybe I'll tell you then."
Britches nodded, obviously disappointed. "What are we going to do now?"
Lara had some ideas of her own, but wanted to encourage the younger woman by getting her to talk. "Well, let's think for a minute. Spade took our guns and money. Where do you think they might be now?"
Britches thought about it. "Last I saw them was on the train, we left them on the seats."
Lara nodded. "Correct. And did you see Spade remove them from the train?"
"No. They got on their horses and…" Britches' eyes widened. "They wouldn't still be on the train would they? I mean, it couldn't be that easy, could it?"
Lara shrugged. "Why not?"
* * * * *
Silverado was laid out pretty much like old west towns Lara had seen in the movies. Two long rows of buildings made up the bulk of the place, with the hotel, the two banks, a saloon/dancehall and other storefronts, including an assay office, telegraph, and newspaper. A large rooming house stood slightly apart and she'd been told the summer-only employees used it as a dormitory.
All in all, it was a very nice place. And although a real effort had been made to keep everything in period, Lara had noticed some modern conveniences had been allowed to remain for guest comfort. The beds in her room were one example. There was only one bathroom for all the guests, down at the end of the hall, the same as it would have been in 1880. But the antique bathtub had both hot and cold water from the tap, something definitely not available a hundred years ago.
Lara and Britches headed down the sidewalk toward the train depot, trying not to attract attention. It was, of course, impossible, since both were good looking and walking together they were definitely worth a second look from the men who saw them.
They passed the livery stable and Lara couldn't resist looking at the horses milling around in the corral.
"Do take a look over here, Britches," she called. "Which one do you like?"
The blonde-haired girl walked over to the fence, looking a little uncomfortable. After a moment, she shrugged. "Oh, they all look okay, I guess."
"I beg your pardon?" Lara snorted with an upraised eyebrow. "Okay? These horses are in excellent condition. Anybody can see that."
Her friend didn't reply and Lara wondered at her reticence. "Tell me. Which one do you like?"
Britches stood next to the fence, her arms together on the top rail, and her chin resting on her hands. She definitely looked uncomfortable. "The brown and white pinto, I think," she replied without much enthusiasm. "She's pretty."
Lara thought it a good choice. She'd already picked her own favorite and they'd have to go riding soon.
"Can I help you ladies?" called the voice behind them and they turned to see the farrier coming toward them. He was a short, wiry man, with the dark tan of a man who was outside a great deal.
"Hello," replied Lara. "I'm Annie and this is Little Britches. We just arrived this morning." She glanced into the corral. "Your remuda is in great shape."
"Thanks, 'ppreciate it," he replied with a smile. "Take your pick, ladies. Any one you like."
"Britches wants the paint," Lara replied when the young woman said nothing. What was the matter with her?
"She's a nice horse," he replied. "Name's Brownie. One of the sweetest dispositions I've ever seen." His eyes twinkled. "And she does like to run." He turned to Lara. "And you?"
Lara looked over the fence. "I like the palomino." Anyone who knew Lara Croft would have guessed that she would pick the best horse in the corral...provided it was also the most beautiful.
"Her name is Feathers. Mighty fine horse, too."
After being assured the animals were theirs for the whole week, the two friends headed for the train depot, located a few hundred yards past the end of the street. A small brick station sat next to the track and the train itself was sitting a little further away, near what looked to be a repair facility. Several other buildings were nearby.
"The place looks deserted," said Britches, noting the 'closed' sign in the door.
Lara didn't see anyone around, either. "Let's go check the train."
They walked down the tracks toward the train. They were almost to the locomotive when they saw a small sign next to the track. "Railroad Property. No Trespassing."
"Are we gonna get in trouble?" asked the younger woman.
Lara grinned. "Only if someone sees us."
Britches laughed. She had brightened considerably at the prospect doing some investigating, and Lara thought it was good to see her smile again.
A moment later they climbed the steps of the passenger car. Their hopes were soon dashed. The car was empty. They checked the second car. It was empty, too.
Britches sat down dejectedly. "I didn't think it would be that easy."
"Maybe not," Lara replied. "But this was a good starting place. Maybe if we…"
Britches suddenly sat up straight. "Annie!" she whispered quickly. "Somebody's coming!"
Lara whirled around and looked outside. A man was walking toward the train from one of the nearby buildings. He was carrying a rifle.
"Get down!" Lara ordered quickly.
"Do you think he saw us?" the girl asked anxiously as they knelt in the aisle.
"I don't think so," Lara replied. Staying low, they quickly moved toward the exit. Seconds later, they climbed down the steps on the side opposite the guard.
Having an idea, Lara ran quickly toward the caboose, Britches right behind her. Lara moved cautiously around rear of the train, and watched the guard swing up into the passenger car they'd just left. Turning quickly, Lara sprinted to the train repair facility. The big overhead door was locked, but right next to it was a people-door, which wasn't.
"What are we doing?" asked Britches once they were inside.
Lara peered out the window. "Mainly hiding from that guard." She turned to face the younger woman. "But I'd also like to know what it is he's guarding."
"Like maybe our stuff?"
Lara smiled. Britches was pretty fast. "Exactly. Which building did he come from?"
Britches moved to the window. "Over there," she pointed out. "The little building on the right."
Looking over her shoulder, Lara could see a low, white structure. "What do you think? Can we get over there while the guard is still on the train?"
The blonde girl shook her head. "I don't think so. We'd be in plain sight the whole time." She turned so she could face Lara. "Maybe we could circle around the back way?"
It was a good suggestion, for just then the guard climbed down from the train and headed back to the building he was guarding. The two friends left by a rear entrance and soon approached the low, white structure from the other side, away from the guard. There was a rear entrance here, too, but a big, solid-looking padlock barred them from getting inside.
Lara cautiously peered around the corner. "There's a window on this side," she said. "Let's take a look." Together, they moved to the window, but found it painted over, preventing them from seeing inside.
"No good," Lara whispered. "We could break the window, but the noise would bring the guard around here in a hurry."
"Maybe it's unlocked," Britches suggested.
To their amazement, it was. It was also sticky, and it took both of them pushing to get it open. The window sill was only four feet off the ground and it was not difficult to climb through the opening. A moment later they were inside. It was obviously a storage room, for wooden crates and boxes were everywhere.
"Let's split up," Lara said. "Keep it quiet."
She poked though all the boxes on her side, but without success. Most were nailed shut and covered with enough dust to indicate they'd been here for a while. She headed back to the window. They have to look somewhere else.
"I didn't see a thing," she whispered when the blonde girl rejoined her. "Let's get outta here."
"Wait, Annie," Britches replied. "I hit paydirt."
Lara's eyes widened. "You did?"
"C'mon, I'll show you."
Lara followed her to the other side of the room and saw what Britches was talking about: Seven burlap bags. And sticking out of the third one were the twin barrels of a shotgun.
Lara squeezed Britches on the arm. "Good girl. Let's find out which are ours." It took only a moment for them to find the correct bags and retrieve their belongings.
"What do we do now," asked the blonde woman, checking the loads in her gun. "Do we climb back out the window?"
"No," Lara replied with a mischievous grin. "Let's do it in style." So saying, she picked up a medium-sized box and threw it across the room, where it landed with a loud crash.
"Hey!" said a voice from outside. "What's goin' on?"
Britches' eyes widened in shock. "What are you doing?" she whispered.
Lara chuckled. "Go stand behind the door."
Suddenly understanding, Britches grinned and hurried away.
Lara pulled her guns and knelt behind the nearest box. In a few seconds she heard the door being unlocked. With a squeak of rusty hinges, the door swung open. The guard was silhouetted against the light outside and Lara could see him pointing the rifle through the door. Really a dumb move on his part. She could take him from here.
"Somebody in there?" the man called.
Lara stifled a laugh. "Nobody but the burglar," she replied.
The man came through the door, rifle at the ready. "Whoever you are," he growled. "C'mon outta there."
But just then a shadow moved behind him. "Grab some sky, mister."
* * * *
"So how'd it go?" Sheriff Matt Branson asked the man just sitting down on the other side of his desk.
"Strangest group I ever saw," replied the visitor. "Two of 'em, a man and his wife, froze when we burst in on 'em. They were scared to death. I had to have Chad take 'em back." He shook his head. "We gotta do better than that, Matt."
"You talk with Alison?"
The visitor picked up his coffee cup and took a sip. "Not yet, but I will."
"What about the others?"
"Two are questionable. We'll have to see about them. The couple looks like they'll enjoy themselves. The guy calling himself Wyatt, too."
Branson grinned. "And who else?"
The other man looked embarrassed. "You referrin' to the two gals?"
The sheriff chuckled. "Heard one of 'em almost got away. No one's ever escaped from the train, Spade. You must be gettin' old."
The outlaw leader smiled. "She would've got away, too, if I hadn't just happened to be on the platform and saw her run for the woods." He spooned a bit more sugar into his coffee. "Any idea who she is?"
Branson shook his head. "Nope. Alison wouldn't tell me a thing."
Spade looked up. "That gal is somethin' else, Matt. Prettiest woman I've seen in a spell, even with them pigtails. Looked me right in the eye and didn't blink. It's gonna be a challenge keepin' her busy."
The sheriff smiled. "And how about the little blonde gal?"
Spade set his coffee cup down on the desk and leaned back in his chair. "Different story there. She's a pretty little thing, isn't she? She handles that gun like she knows what she's doin', but she's a city girl, probably had a sheltered life. She did fine on the train, but Arizona told me she was frightened when he cornered her in the caboose."
Branson got up and headed for the coffee pot. "You know we got another bunch o' tour buses comin' this week?" He picked up the pot and poured another half cup.
"Aw, Matt," complained Spade. "Not again? It ruins everything. They don't belong here."
The sheriff walked to the window, stirring his coffee. "I know. I've tried to tell that to management." He glanced out the window and his eyebrows shot up. "Boy, that didn't didn't take long."
Spade turned in his chair. "What are you talking about?"
Branson glanced back at him. "Come take a look."
Spade got to his feet and looked over his friend's shoulder. "I don't believe it."
They watched Annie Oakley and Little Britches walking up the street, grinning at each other. They'd obviously found their stolen guns and money. "How do you suppose…"
"Don't have the foggiest. Think putting a guard out front was a little too obvious?"
The sheriff's smile vanished when he saw the two women turn toward him. "Huh. Looks like they're comin' to pay us visit."
"Not me," replied Spade, heading for the door to the back office.
"What's the matter, Spade?" Branson called after him. "You ain't afraid of tanglin' with that Annie gal again, are ya?"
The door closed behind Spade, but Matt could hear his voice easy enough. "No way, Matt. I'm cookin' up something special for her."
Still chuckling, the sheriff returned to his desk, picked up a wanted poster and pretended to study it. When the door opened, he looked up with a smile and got to his feet.
"Afternoon, ladies," he said. "Can I help you?"
"Good afternoon, sheriff," replied Annie, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "We'd like you to do us a favor,"
"What kind of favor, miss?"
"When you get a minute," Britches replied, "mosey on down to the train depot and untie the stupid guard. He's in the little white building."
A broad grin crossed the sheriff's face. "Yes, ma'am, I'll take care of it. Anything else?"
"I don't suppose there'd be any point to getting a…what do you call it…a warrant for his arrest?" Annie asked.
Branson shook his head. "Nope."
"Why not?" demanded the younger woman. "He was guardin' stolen property."
The sheriff turned to face her. "Won't do no good. He'll just claim he didn't know what was in the building."
"And, of course," replied Annie, "he probably says that once a week, doesn't he? Such as every time you get a new batch of guests?"
The sheriff nodded. "True. And I guess this means you'll be staying at the hotel all week?"
"Of course, sir, now that we can afford it," said Annie with a grin. "It's a very nice place."
"What about the others in our group?" Britches asked.
"What about 'em?"
"I mean, should we tell 'em where we found…"
"Not on your life. Let them find it themselves."
"You're gonna let 'em sweat?"
"Sure," he replied. "At least until train time tomorrow. If anybody wants to get on the train, we let 'em go. They don't belong here anyway. People who opt to stay, well, we drop a few hints, if you know what I mean."
"One more question, sheriff," Britches said. "How do you feel about the bank gettin' robbed? Theoretically speaking, of course."
Branson's smile faded abruptly. "Well, speaking theoretically, you try it here and you'll find me standin' right behind you. Nobody holds up a bank in my town."
"Your town?" Annie's eyebrows arched in disbelief. "I thought this was Spade's town. Are the two of you in a little shoving match, so to speak?"
"Oh, he's not as big as he thinks he is," Branson replied, knowing full well that Spade was in the back room and unable to challenge the statement.
"I think that I would like to pay him a visit some night. Any idea where he hangs out?"
"Nope. 'Course, if you were to ask me later in the week, I might know more about it then."
The sheriff smiled as the door closed behind them. It was going to be a fun week with those two around.
"Ahem," said the voice behind him.
Branson turned to see Spade leaning against the doorframe. "Not as big as I think I am, eh?"
"Oh, hello, Spade. Are you still here? I thought you left."
They were still laughing when the front door opened and a man stepped into the room. He was wearing coveralls and pushing a maintenance cart.
"Excuse me, sheriff," the man said. "I'm Bill Dugan, I'm fillin' in for Scott Wester. I need to do some cleaning."
"Where's Scotty?"
"His mother up in Seattle got sick," Dugan replied. "He went to stay with her a couple of days. Is it okay if I get here for a little while?"
"Sure. Help yourself." He picked up his hat from the desk and turned to Spade.
"How about we go talk to Alison? I need to chat with her about a few things anyway."
"Oh, by the way, Bill," the sheriff said from the open doorway. "You need to dress western. We like to have all employees dress appropriately so you blend in with the town."
"Fine, sheriff. Thanks for the tip."
* * * * *
Dugan watched the door close behind them. Then he pulled his mop from the cleaning cart and swiped it across the floor a few times in a cursory manner. Stepping to the window, he was just in time to see Branson and Spade disappear into the hotel. Dugan crossed to the big desk and knelt down in front of it. He pulled something tiny from his pocket and stuck it to the underside of the desk. Then he quickly emptied the trashcan into his cart and opened the door.
Go to Chapter Four