Yankton

Chapter 3

Chapter 3 Let Us Return to Those Thrilling Days of Yesteryear

When all the humming stopped and the room returned to a normal light, I checked the computer screen, a message read;

CHECKING, VERIFYING,

DATA

0.3753424 DAYS

0.0156392 HOURS

0.0002606 MIN.

0.0000043 SEC.

/parsec….0890045623006788843200

August 28 1876, Monday

Fucking incredible! I waited a few more moments then opened the door, f*****g pitch black, the light from the machine cast it's glow into the tunnel, this time a cold musty smell greeted me, there was a lantern hanging just outside the entrance, with a metal box marked "matches" sitting on a crude wooden table there was also an envelope sitting on the table as well, but first I lit the lantern until it cast it's yellow glow around the tunnel. Opening the letter, I read;

Dear Brian:

If you're reading this, I can only assume you've taken up my offer and curiosity has gotten the better of you. Be advised that you have now left civilization well behind you, welcome to the "middle ages."

Rules to remember;

No killing of anybody famous, near famous, or possibly famous, we have no idea how this would affect the time/space continuum. Leave nothing modern behind, however cartridge cases might be the exception, as they deteriorate and aren't readily noticeable. Above all, realize that the people you will encounter do not think like 21st century Americans especially here in Deadwood. Please know that there are some very bad people living not only here but in the west as a whole. You will also meet some very honorable people as well; do not judge them by 21st century standards. For all intends and purposes, you are now back in Afghanistan, watch your back. Please look up a lady who goes by the name of "Montana" whose real name is Abigail Carter and give her the letter I gave to you. Treat her with trust and kindness; she will be your greatest ally. In addition, a fellow by the name of Charlie Utter can be approached, pass my name to him he will know it. Use the money I gave you carefully and sparingly, above all DO NOT let anybody become aware of how much you are carrying there are some very desperate characters here.

ABOVE ALL ELSE, remember this; You are not entering a western movie set, this is not Gun smoke, Have Gun Will Travel, or Bonanza, a .44 slug from a black powder pistol will kill you just as easily as a 9mm round from a Glock. With that in mind, go forth into the world and enjoy yourself.

PS….In the cabin I installed a composting toilet (ground's too rocky for a privy) the instructions I left describe how to use them. Also, make sure the primitive re-charging equipment I've set up is working and charging the time machine.

I lit two more lanterns in the tunnel noticing that he deep freeze and refrigerator as well as the chest were gone.

At the end of the tunnel, a pipe sticking out of the rock wall with mortar or concrete packed around it. The pipe was rigged up to feed into a cistern carved out of the floor of the tunnel, with what looked like an overflow set-up. This must be where the cabin's water supply came from. I guessed that when they originally dug this shaft, they ran into water and abandoned it. The doctor turned their problem into his gain; he had a very clever set-up for water.

The steel security door was now a rusty looking iron door with rivets all over it and cross strapping; however it had a modern high security lock on it. Leaving everything but my .45 in the chamber, so ready for anything, I cautiously opened the door.

The door squealed as I opened it, I immediately detected movement in the cabin. Backing against the doorframe I called out, "Whoever is in here down on the floor NOW! Hands out where I can see them, make a move and I'll blow your f*****g head off!" I then heard sobbing coming from somewhere in the cabin, which sounded most definitely female. "All right lady," I announced, "Who are you and what are you doing in my house?" There was a silence for a few moments then, "Oh please don't hurt me I'll go with you only pleas don't hurt me." "What the f**k?" I thought "Lady I'm not going to hurt you, what is it you are talking about?" Slowly a young woman slowly stepped out from what was obviously another room into the center of the large main room clearly crying. Lowering my gun, I said, "What's your name and what are you doing here, Hell! How did you get in there should be a lock on that front door." "There is," she sniffed, "I found that window unlocked and slipped in that way."

I got her to sit down and continue with her story. "My name is Melonie Bishop; I came out here from Michigan in answer to an advertisement in a Chicago newspaper for young ladies of distinction to work in a hotel. When I got here, I met the proprietor, E.A. Swearingen who then informed me that I was expected to dance and perform other "duties" for him in his Gem theatre, which turned out to be prostituting myself. When I attempted to leave, he accused me of stealing money from him and threatened to have me arrested, I then broke away and found my way here, I fear I have only brought trouble not only on myself but you as well, but I beg you sir, please don't turn me over to him." "Swearingen," I thought, "That's the guy Ian Mc Shane played in the TV series." I then sat down across from her and calmly said, "Ma'am my name is Brian Yankton, I know of this Swearingen creep, and I assure you I have no intention of turning you over to him, in fact feel free to remain here under my protection, I…" Just then, there came a banging on the door, I instructed her to go into the tunnel where I then closed the door. "Who is it?" I shouted. "We want that woman you got hiding in there!" came the reply. "Step back from the door, and I'll come out to talk," I replied. Looking through the small peephole, I saw that they did as I requested. Against my better judgment, I slowly opened the door. Outside stood two men, obviously Swearingen's henchmen looking mean as junkyard dogs. "Whew!" I gasped, "What do you guys do for a living…Shovel s**t? Both men were armed and one of them was acting very jittery, "We want that woman," said the first man, "She stole money from our boss." I grinned and replied, "That's not what she told me, says f**k face Swearingen wants to turn her into a w***e, sorry about that boys, but that just aint gonna happen." Suddenly the second man tried to make a move; I swung my .45 at his middle and put three shots in his belly and another three into his partner's face before they knew what hit them. Well I'd done it now, I had no idea if killing these shits would make a difference in history but what was done was done.

There wasn't much left of the first mans head and the other man's was quite dead as well.

Looking around I knew that I wasn't in Kansas anymore, Van Buren street was now nothing but a rutted trail up a steep hill, I could see an assortment of wood shacks scattered around farther down the hill and what was obviously Deadwood in the distance. Something else told me the professor's machine worked, "What the f**k is that stink?" I wondered to myself, "Christ! It's enough to gag a goat."

By now, Melonie had come out and gasped when she saw the two dead men. "I don't think they'll be bothering you anymore ma'am.

"By the way, ma'am, what is that God awful stench?" Melonie gave me a confused look then snapped out of her shock, "What stench? Oh…That! That's just Deadwood." Giving me a concerned look, she added, "Mr. Swearingen is going to be very angry at you for killing his men, I'm so sorry for bringing all this trouble on you good sir." I stepped over to Melonie and looked into her eyes, and quietly said, "Ma'am, in the first place I'm not "good" in the second place, don't call me "sir" I work for a living, and third, I'm no stranger to trouble, I'm a regular heartbreaker and life taker, however I can be a perfect gentleman, your welcome to stay here without any conditions whatsoever, I've read of this Swearingen guy, pardon my French but he's a piece of s**t, I'd go down there right now and blow hid goddamned head off but for reasons I will explain later, I can't do that, but I do intend to pay him a visit and get him squared away on a few things."

Melonie began to cry again and I reached out to comfort her, "Shhh, now everything's going to be all right." Pulling away, I looked at her and said, "Ma'am, right now, you know nothing about me except my name, were I able to somehow completely understand who I really am you would be simply astounded, but for right now, go back inside, and make yourself at home, while I dispose of the garbage here, by the way do you have any idea what time it is now?" She thought a moment, "Sometime after two pm I should guess." "Well you go back inside, and lock that door, don't open it for anybody, I have the key so when I return, I will unlock the door. Oh, wait one." I stepped over to the dead men and removed their gun belts and picked up their pistols, one was a Colt Patterson model the other was a Smith and Wesson, handing the pistols and belts to Melonie I said, "Take these, be careful, they're both loaded, I'll be back as soon as I can."

Rifling the men's pockets turned up almost four dollars in coins, these guys were rich! Finding nothing else of value I found a sort of pushcart near the cabin, perhaps the professor used it to collect firewood, I hadn't had a chance to really look the cabin over very well, but it was most definitely not the cabin I left in 2013. I piled the bodies in the cart and proceeded down the hill. It was pretty rough travel and I almost tipped over the cart on a couple of occasions. Nobody seemed to be around, this being a Monday no doubt everybody was at work in the mines or busting their backs panning for gold in the nearby creeks. I came to a sort of ditch off to the side of the trail, and maneuvered my cart so that when I tipped it, the two bodies rolled down the hill behind some rocks. I clambered down to where they lay and finished the job by covering the bodies with more rocks until they were completely covered.

Continuing on into town, I was amazed at the difference between the old grainy daguerreotypes I'd seen in books of old Deadwood I also noted that Sergio Leone had it right with all the dirt and grit he presented his "Spaghetti" westerns in. Jeezist! This place was a f*****g dump. And the stink only got worse, there were villages in the 'Stan that looked like suburbia compared to this place. Making my way down the crude boardwalk in front of the shops, I studied the faces and was amazed at the number of beards I had a two day stubble but most of these guys all looked like they had raccoons curled up around their faces. Finally, I spotted the Gem theatre across the street, making a last minute check of my gun I crossed the mud pit that passed for a street and went in.