Discussions became arguments, arguments screaming matches, and the yelling was shortly followed by violence; in short, things escalated quickly.
Thus, the town was split between the existing ranch hands and the newly arrived farmers. The pastoral peace of yesteryear was a thing of the past, and conflicts brewed round every corner.
The farmers were the first to bring in hired guns. The Somethington brothers and their gang—a bunch of lowlifes—started parading around, and sensing a threat, the ranchers hired groups of cowboys who knew their way around a gun. This only added fuel to the fire. The town now had two groups of toughs as liable to shoot as they were to breathe, and the upshot was that constant gunfire could be heard inside town and out.
Since the farmers had bribed the town’s sheriff, the law wasn’t stepping in; the mayor’s authority was but a wax ax before a flamethrower. If this had merely filled the medic’s beds with convalescent gunshot-wound victims, that’d be one thing, but it wasn’t long before lots of people were turning up dead. The mortician ran short on coffins, and the priest had to started prepping the next funeral before he even learned the name of the deceased.
The stalemate continued, with nothing but bodies to show for it. The ranchers were the next to act. They hired Hyatt Harp and his brothers—well-known bounty hunters—but the firepower advantage didn’t last long. One of the oldest and most powerful ranchers discovered his son (and that son’s wife) had been kidnapped.
They received a threatening letter demanding Hyatt and company to leave town if they wanted the young couple back alive. The ranchers gnashed their teeth, and the town sided with them—no matter the day and the age, trying to win through despicable tactics did no one any favors. The saloon, butchers, grocers, doctor, and bank all turned on the farmers. When they angrily brandished guns, this only cratered their reputations further—but the ranchers’ hands were tied.
This second stalemate led the mayor to finally flexing his political muscles.
“Staring each other down will get us nowhere. If shooting starts again, it’ll continue until only one side is left standing. I cannot stand idly by as the countdown to destruction commences. I propose that we settle the matter with a duel; may the fastest hands win.”
Both groups begrudgingly accepted these terms. Neither side could bear any more losses.
“If the farmers win, they’ll be allowed to construct a massive agricultural belt. If the ranchers win, the farmers will be forbidden from expanding any farther. Additionally, they’ll have to surrender the fields they plowed without consent to be turned into grazing land. No matter who wins, the hostages will be released.”
But since they did have hostages, the farmers’ side added a condition. The ranchers were not to put their hired gunmen—the Harp brothers—in the duel. If they tried, the rancher’s children would be killed, and the feud would continue until one side was wiped out. The more time this took, the bigger the advantage the farmers’ wealth would give them; the ranchers accepted those terms and turned to the mayor for a proxy gunman.
“And you turned to us,” Haruhi said, putting her fork down. She seemed very pleased with this. “We’ll take care of this! I’m great at contests. I can’t remember ever losing one. I’ll make them regret going with me instead of those Whyahat brothers.”
She’d skipped the bit where we decided who to put in the duel, but never mind. Letting Nagato handle it would mean a totally foregone conclusion—but even when dreaming while napping in class, I couldn’t picture Haruhi not stealing the limelight at a moment like this.
Smiling confidently, Haruhi reached for her coffee cup.
“So when is this duel? And is it in a field? The pastures?”
“Noon tomorrow. On main street, in front of the town’s only saloon.”
Haruhi nodded and knocked back the coffee.
“Is there an inn? Preferably one with a bath.”
“I imagine we’re short on tubs, but I’ll arrange one with a shower. There is but one inn.”
“Does it have hot water?”
“Um…I imagine so?” The mayor clearly didn’t remember that granular a detail. “Let’s say yes. Yes. Hot water it is. As of right now. I’ll even throw in a tub.”
He seemed to have received a broadcast, and a decisive one.
In the seat next to me I heard Koizumi make a noise like he was stifling a laugh. I looked over and found him wiping his face with a napkin, hiding the smirk behind it. I fully agreed.
“This world sure is malleable,” I said, turning back to the mayor.
He made a show of having a coughing fit.
“Well, now you’re fully briefed! Best of luck tomorrow!” he cried, rising to his feet.
And the scene immediately shifted again. We were now in the lobby of an old-timey, two-story wooden hotel.
“Whaaa…huh?” Asahina said, with an adorable head tilt. She still had her hands up like she was holding a knife and fork and was staring at her empty hands in confusion.
We received keys at the front desk and retired to our rooms. Single rooms for all of us. After a long day, we all wanted to get right in the bath to wash off the dust of travel, and prepare for the events of the next day.
The bathroom had a tub with a shower next to it. Very Japanese. This place sure was accommodating.
We spent the night there and regrouped the next morning. The mayor arranged a meet and greet with the ranchers, and the SOS girls, plus two new deputies, headed out to face the ne’er-do-wells.
And that’s it for summaries. Let’s get back to the original scene, still in progress.