Canyons of Steel - A modern day western

Chapter Nine

2:15 pm. - August 24th, 2002

Johnathon Tiberius Walker tapped the keys lightly. It was over, but he had two things to do first. A call to an old “friend”, and then to see his daughter. It was time to make a better life for himself and his little girl. Even if it meant only for a little while. She deserved to have some sort of a normal life. Away from the shadows that the Sisterhood had built up around her. Away from the corruption that dared to infest her life. These thoughts filled his mind as he found the communication rig. He grumbled slightly, muttering that Indigo was so much better at this than he was. Maybe it was his thoughts that distracted him. He wasn't certain.

But he never even heard Grey Kestrel.

“Tell Malcolm I got his message,” Naomi said in a quiet, calm voice. Walker turned slowly and his eyes met hers. She was alone, no police, no authorities to lead him away to prison. He expected a woman like Kestrel to bring back up. He was a bit taken aback with just the sight of her, alone. In a way, he was a bit relieved.

“Monty always had a way o' sayin' hello,” Walker said with a kind smile. “Means he likes ya.”

Naomi laughed aloud at the thought. “No offense, Malcolm's not my type. But tell him thanks. The small toy went to my son. Petey will put it to good use.”

Walker nodded slowly. Naomi had a son. Maybe that alone would make her understand. “I got a little girl, m'self. I need ta do alla this, all the deception, ta get her to a safe place. I hope ya understand.”

“I may not like your motives,” Naomi replied with a sigh. “But at least I do understand. And at least you tried to help Gerald. He'll never have the use of that arm, but at least he's alive.” Naomi crossed her arms and studied the gunhand for a moment. “The agents of the Sisterhood may have escaped, but at least we captured Dimitri and his agents.”

Walker nodded again as he leaned against the console. “His agents'll rot in some jail cell fer a long time. But 'xpect Dimitri ta get out somehow. He's got friends that like his ... talents. Man's a monster, an' sadly, there ain't no way ta keep a man like that down. Somebody's always gonna want 'im ta keep kickin' 'round.”

“And what about you?” Naomi said as she stepped forward. “You gonna keep kickin' 'round?” She perked an eyebrow with the last two words as she attempted to imitate the drawl of the Texan. Walker just laughed and took out a Pall Mall.

“Oh, I'll be here an' there,” he said, pausing to light the cigarette. “Ya can at least count on that.” He took a long drag off the cigarette and exhaled. “Now, Lieutenant. If y'all excuse me, I got someone ta send a message to. I'm gonna ask ya don't track us. But ya can guarantee that we just might meet again. The world the way it is, our paths'll cross soon 'nough.”

Naomi watched the Texan for just a moment before turning to slowly walk out of the building. “Take care of yourself, Walker,” she called back to him. “Keep shootin' straight.” Walker chuckled as he watched Naomi leave. She and her brother were interesting people. The world needed heroes like them. Maybe, in time, his daughter could grow to be like them. He pushed the thoughts from his mind as he concentrated on the task at hand. It was time to make that call to an old friend.

Wouldn't Lieutenant Christa Rayne be surprised?

Maxwell winced as the doctor looked over his injuries. Naomi stood in the room, watching carefully as Maxwell sat completely still during the procedure. The doctor hummed and hawed, making comment that the injury wasn't too bad, but it could have been a lot worse. For the bumps and bruises that both he and Naomi had, at least they were well deserved. The bad guys had been captured. It made the pain worth it.

“I really hope this doesn't affect my opening comments to the new class,” Maxwell stated through clenched teeth. The doctor just sighed and shook his head. Maxwell looked to the doctor with questioning eyes. “What?”

The doctor looked to Naomi, speaking with a tired voice. “Can you make sure that he takes a few days off to recuperate. The last thing he needs is to stress the injury more.” He looked back to Maxwell and spoke with a stern warning. “And no crime fighting when you get back home.”

“I think that'll be simple enough, Doc,” Naomi stated as she leaned against the wall. She looked to her side and smiled as her son leaned against her leg. “Ready to go back home, Squirt.”

“Mom!” Petey whined as she used the tame nickname. “Can we go to Uncle Max's ranch? I wanna see the horses again.” Naomi smiled at the question and nodded.

“See,” the doctor huffed as he overheard the boy. “Spend time with your family. I'm sure that your employers will understand if you take some time off.” Max shrugged and nodded in reply. He didn't think he'd get anything less from the doctor save stern warnings.

As the examination continued, Naomi walked her son back into the lobby area. Her mind was filled with questions. Self doubt, in a way. What if what she was doing wasn't helping? What if it didn't really matter? No matter how hard she and Maxwell tried, the criminals would always come back. Maybe the public didn't care about them.

She huffed as she took a seat in the lobby. Petey crawled up into her lap and she grunted with a laugh. “You're getting to big for this, Petey,” she said with a smile as she put her arms around him. Then she saw it, another boy in the lobby playing with his toys.

And it was then that she really noticed it.

The young boy had a pair of action figures, but both had something strapped to their backs. Wings. The boy flew them through the air, making his own game, but at the same time, making Naomi realize something.

“Come on, Billy,” a woman called out to the boy. He quickly packed up his toys and rushed over to the woman, perhaps his mother. “Did you have fun?”

“Oh yeah...” the boy cried out excitedly, explaining what he was doing. Stating boldly, that he wanted to be like the two superheroes he saw the other day.

Naomi smiled because she realized that yes, she and her brother do make a difference. One person at a time.