My Full Confession

Victor, Get Lost

I was able to steer Redbeard towards the road, and before long we were trotting at a reasonable pace along the dust, with the poor old thing heaving heavy breaths just five minutes in. He used to be able to ride for miles and miles, yet that was when we had both been much younger. He was in better shape, and I was much lighter. Redbeard wasn't the only one suffering, however. John was clinging to my back with weakened fingers, holding onto me for dear life as he let his forehead fall against my back, wincing and aching with every bump in the road, and every quick movement of the unpredictable horse on which we rode. I was just hoping that we made it to town without running into anyone we knew, there were two cars which I surely hoped would not interrupt our flee to safety. Irene would ask too many questions, should she find us trotting along, and Victor of course wouldn't have to ask, he'd already guess by seeing the two of us. We would have to tread carefully, if we wanted our escape to be unnoticed.
"Are you alright back there?" I asked John, knowing of course that not much could be done for him now, even if he was on the brink of death.
"I'm fine." John assured me, yet his voice sounded rough and harsh, as if he was forcing the words through his teeth.
"We're almost to town." I promised him.
"Yes I know." He agreed. "I'm fine." I nodded, deciding that I ought not to probe him any longer, and encouraged the horse to pick up the pace, even if he was struggling. We reached town in the next ten minutes, knowing of course that this little stretch would be the most nerve-racking of all. If we were spotted, just by anyone who knew us enough to know something was going on, well then suspicion would be aroused. And with suspicion there always comes investigation, and God knows we didn't do too much to ensure that an investigation would be inconclusive. I eased Redbeard into a reasonable pace, and merged with the traffic of the town. All of the horses, wagons, and pedestrians formed a great clump of people, all of which formed an inaudible roar as they talked over each other, and held their own little side conversations. I tried to keep my head down, wishing that I had brought some sort of hat to shield my recognizable face. Anyone could be lurking out here, it would just take one set of observant eyes to ruin this entire operation...
"William!" called a voice, a painfully recognizable voice. John's fingers clenched upon my arms, yet he didn't lean closer, for the fear that our proximity would be frowned upon. I looked to find the caller, knowing of course that whoever it was had just damned us either way. It might be the executioner himself, and it would be no different than if it was just some passerby who happened to recognize me from the bookstore. I had decided right then and there that I was destined to die, and as I turned to see who had called upon me I dare say that I wasn't surprised to see Victor atop his horse, trotting up to meet us. I figured that it was the same either way; I figured that some higher power was going to try to stop us and so plant the one man who could arrest us within striking distance. And here he was, the sheriff himself, sitting high and mighty with that beautiful smile, and those wicked venomous eyes. John gave a groan of misery, for surely he too understood the severity of Victor's entrance. Yet as of now, the sheriff seemed genuinely delighted to see me, and his suspicion had not been aroused.
"Hello Victor." I muttered, keeping Redbeard moving so as to try to send the message that I was not in the mood for conversation.
"And Mr. Watson, too. How lovely...oh dear. What ever has happened to your face?" Victor wondered, just now taking note of John's mangled appearance.
"He got in a bar fight." I said immediately.
"I was not aware that there was such a thing." Victor muttered. "Usually I'm called by the wives of the injured fellows."
"Well he doesn't have a wife, you see. So it was hushed up." I insisted.
"You should see the other guy." John managed, just to embellish the story more. Victor chuckled, tightening his grip on the reins and staring at John with a very hateful expression. Yet his smile remained.
"I should like to." He muttered quietly, and turned his eyes once more to me. "Where are you boys off to so early?"
"The doctor's." I muttered.
"Well you're going the wrong way for that." Victor corrected.
"We're first getting breakfast. So if you would be so kind as to let us be..."
"You're packed, too. Interesting that you might be taking a bag to the doctor's." Victor observed. "Surely William, you have an explanation for this as well?"
"Just because you're the Sherriff doesn't mean I have to answer all of your questions. My business is my own." I snarled, kicking Redbeard a bit more abruptly so as to make him trot a bit faster. All the same, Victor's horse kept pace effortlessly. His was a stronger beast, much younger and more fit. I knew that I could never outrun him, if it came down to that. So I would have to keep talking, to save my own skin.
"Oh William, do tell me you're not trying to run away. I do find it cowardly when men leave their wives so early on." Victor begged.
"What have I to run from?" I growled.
"The question is more along the lines of what do you have to run to. Or rather...to take with you." He looked towards John once more, and let a quick breath of annoyance escape his mouth.
"We're not running away. We're getting breakfast." I growled.
"Then let me join you, surely. Let us have a nice breakfast together, as it may be the last time I may see you as a bachelor." Victor proposed.
"Victor, get lost." John growled, as his own way of finalizing this conversation. Victor scowled at him, yet he obviously couldn't continue on in this fashion. Either he would have to flash the star badge and force us to dine with him, or he could follow John's demand and keep the peace for a while longer. I was so relieved to see that he chose the latter, however reluctantly.
"Well, if that is your thoughts on the matter, Mr. Watson, I suppose I cannot impose." Victor decided.
"It was nice seeing you." I muttered through my teeth, hoping that would be flattery enough to keep him away.
"And nice to see you as well, William. Always a pleasure." Victor agreed, slowing his horse and leaving us to ride on. I knew that he would be watching, and so I turned as quickly as we could, down one of the side streets so that we might avoid his gaze long enough to get to the town's border. When I looked back I saw no one, yet all the same I had a terrible feeling of being watched. Perhaps it was the guilt, finally beginning to manifest. Or perhaps it was just my own paranoia, after having survived a brief brush with death himself.