Chapter 1
It’s high noon and the two deadly mudslingers are facing off on the main street. Dressed all in black, ScoMo is packing an old Coal 45. He arrived by coach two days ago and comes with a fearsome reputation: they say he has God AND the Minerals Council backing him. One thing’s for sure, he outdrew and outgunned both the Turnbull Kid and “Speedos” Abbott, back east; the notorious bounty hunters “Noisy” Cormann and “Spooky” Dutton were said to have fled over the border. Legend has it that ScoMo sings “Praise the Lord” as he executes his man.
Today he’s facing Albo.
Known everywhere for his battered white hat, Albo is the working folks’ hero. He fought for the Union in the war with the Confederates of Industry, and carries many scars. Albo kept a low profile and stayed out of trouble while Sheriff Shorten ran things around here. But then Shorten stupidly shot himself instead of the baddies. So, Albo’s now stepped up to stop the Media Baron, “TheMaster” Murdoch, from building a railway line through the centre of town, to a new coalmine up north. Albo recently added to his rep when he ran the trouble making Cowboy out of the wild frontier town of Setka. Albo knows his guns and has been a straight shooter since back when Derryngers were still in favor. Being both left and right handed, Albo has sawn-off “Widowmakers” strapped to each leg, though they say he tends to lean more to the Left. He has given pet names to his guns: “Kristina” and “Keneally”.
Unflinching, the killers calmly eye each other in the smokey, brown haze spewing from the chimneys of the town colliery. A bead of perspiration forms above Albo’s right eyebrow. He is desperately trying to concentrate … but at the back of his mind is a nagging worry about why a bag of cash was anonymously left on the Sherrif’s desk this morning. At the other end of the dirt street, ScoMo is distracted by a fly that keeps buzzing from horse poo to horse poo. Being an obtuse thinker, he decides to give the fly a name: “Pauline”.
A deathly silence has descended on the entire town … broken only by the annoying crowing of the big, fat rooster, that the locals call “ClivePalmer”, that scratches the dirt behind the saloon kitchen.
Upstairs in the saloon, in “Skye’s AfterDark Brothel”, town tart Miss “Foxy” NewsCorp – wearing an extra layer of makeup – is peering through the window lace curtains and waving a silk handkerchief, pretending to be distressed. She is still seething at ScoMo’s role in the execution of her long-time favorite client, “Speedos” Abbott, whom she had wooed for years; he had affectionately called her his “ABC of Love”.
Foxy also can’t stand Albo’s adoration by the common folk and his damn, interfering Unionists who won’t allow good, profitable, workplace slavery. But whatever the outcome today, “Foxy” knows she will still have one bed partner tonight …
Fractal City 