Billie and Brandon: Untamed

6

Brandon balanced precariously on the thin block of wood beneath his feet, the rope around his neck slightly constricting his breathing each time his small movements tugged him a little bit off center. Like Ezra, he had his arms out on either side of him to help keep balance and a deathly glare aimed at the two fuckheads who had been tasked with their hanging. He was dehydrated, and his arms and body were starting to grow tired, but there was no way in hell he was going to show any weakness in front of them.

Two of the sheriff's deputies, Everett and Sam-Brandon was sure they had been appointed by the mayor himself-had stripped the two of them naked and were now gambling off their items. Among one of the items was Brandon's late father's prized, obsidian, one-of-a-kind Colt pistol, the only thing he had left that belonged to his father. He had just watched Everett slip it into his holster.

Brandon's eyes narrowed dangerously as Everett and Sam bet for Brandon' favourite black hat.

"Woo wee!" Everett cheered, slipping the black cowboy hat on his greasy head with a hearty laugh, "I got me a new hat."

"Not for long..." Brandon growled, eyes glaring daggers at his head, "Just wait until I get free..."

"Wait until you get what?" Everett taunted, "I'm sorry, I just think it's real funny how you think you're in any position to threaten us."

They both burst out into laughter and continued their stupid game of dice to determine who would become the new owner of Ezra's throwing knives.

"So...You got a plan Brandon?" Ezra asked nonchalantly, glancing at him out of the corner of his eyes with a raised brow, "Cuz I don't know about you, but if we don't die from staying like this all night, we sure as hell could still get eaten by coyotes."

"What is it with you and your fear of getting eaten by coyotes?" Brandon rolled his eyes, "I'm working on it..."

"Well work fast, because I don't know how much longer I can stay like this. Plus my nuts are getting cold."

"It's more than ninety outside, Ezra."

"Tell that to lefty and righty. I swear they're shivering."

Brandon tuned him out, trying to think of how they could get out of their shit fuck of a predicament. As it stood, they could barely move a fraction of an inch. Any more than that and they would probably kill themselves. It was too delicate of a situation, and he doubted they would be able to even move their arms without putting themselves in danger of falling off the log and snapping their necks in two. Even worse, they had no clothes and none of their weapons or anything to fight with. Getting out was one thing. Getting out without getting shot on the spot was another.

"I mean, is this really how you want to go? Butt naked and tied to a damn tree standing on a log?" Ezra continued, sighing when Brandon didn't respond. He was in one of his deep thinking trances again.

Brandon had already gotten used to the idea that attempting to kill the mayor would probably be a suicidal mission, and he knew he was going to die in the process eventually, but he didn't want to die like this. This was beyond humiliating and dammit if he got killed before he had the chance to put a bullet in the mayor's fucking head.

Everett and Sam finally bet off the last pair of items, Ezra's boots, and stood up in their new apparel, grinning from ear to ear.

"Well boys," Everett said chidingly, "Looks like we're just about done here. Enjoy your trips to hell."

"Enjoy you freedom for now," Brandon responded cryptically, "You'll be joining us soon enough."

They laughed raucously again, slapping their thigh in amusement while Brandon seethed, gritting his teeth in irritation. Everett tipped Brandon's hat at them both with a wide grin as the two idiots climbed up onto their horses a little bit away. Situated on his saddle, Sam took out Brandon's father's pistol and aimed at Brandon, an amused smile on his lips.