The story continues from here. The new title for this story? ”Last Dahl Standing”. Oh yes. Let the fun begin!
Like I said this story has been in my head for years. Dahl is actually a family name and I’ve decided to use it because I’m going to connect this story to two other stories that are either in progress or planned. It will be a anthology of sorts and I’m really looking forward to writing it and making it rock your socks. The Anthology Title? ”A Fistful of Dahl”. This isn’t the final title, but it sure sounds like a winner!
Onwards to the first chapter of the story!
It was about six in the morning when Jacob awoke from a troubled sleep. The cold from the Gold Mountains had settled into the walls of his home, taunting him from the corners. He could have remained where he was and slept the day away. This would have led to some terrible consequences for those that depended on the thirty year old grizzled mountain man. This wasn’t to say he didn’t consider it for but a moment in passing as he groaned and grumbled through the frigid bedroom picking up the worn pants and slipping them on. Jacob Dahl was a man with scruples and morals. He’d never hear the end of it if he failed to show up to any of his impending appointments throughout the day. His wife would be the first to slap him sideways. She might even have done it twice if she found the motivation.
Esmeralda was not a woman to be trifled with. Even on her best day it was well advised to avoid crossing her any which way. Some in the town had alleged to have seen her actually spit fire. It didn’t help that those adept reporters had not yet crested five feet. School children were always the best critics and the worst students. Esmeralda Dahl or “Ezzie” as Jacob had taken to calling her was the dark lord of the classroom. He knew a different side of her and it was this side that had inspired their marriage. A loving relationship born of adventure and laughter had been the foundation.
One week ago the world that foundation had been laboriously built had taken a dark turn. It had taken five shots from a pistol. Jacob hadn’t been in town when his grandfather was felled but word had quickly spread to his homestead.
Otto Dahl had been the sheriff and ranger for the town of Coldstone for as long as anyone could remember. Quick with a pistol and slow on a sly smile he’d protected the five thousand citizens with such zeal the darker fringe of society had stayed clear of the fledgling city. Jacob had retired himself to the farther edges of the city with his farm and serve in silence. He’d served his time in the gun sworn legions. Otto had understood that.
Now the legend was dead and buried six feet under the frozen dirt.
It hadn’t taken a week when the first robbery had happened. With two banks in town it was only a matter of time. Three people had been shot in the ensuing chaos and two were called to heaven. The third was still recovering in hopes he’d survive. Jacob had heard whisperings of men coming to businesses in town to suggest donations to a protection fund that would enable them to continue practicing their craft in peace. A few had refused.
The embers still smoked as the smell of burnt wood and flesh stung the nostrils of the townspeople.
Jacob hadn’t found out about the latest tragedies until late the previous evening when his younger cousin had rushed to give him the news. Jeffery Dahl wasn’t sixteen yet but he thought himself something. He idolized Jacob to the ends of the earth and the older relation was content to find a way to keep the boy on the straight and narrow. The news hadn’t surprised him. He was sure of one thing.
He didn’t want to get involved. He had said that when the death of his grandfather occurred. He repeated it to himself when they laid his tired body to rest. He had told his wife several times the next day. Affirming it with his friends over the last week had been part of his mission to convince himself that indeed he would not get involved in whatever war this was to become. He’d had enough of war.
Then his daring cousin had given him one last piece of news last evening. There was a letter. A will that had been drawn out a few years ago by Otto Dahl. It detailed what should occur when he passed from this earth. It also told of what to do if he was to be removed violently from his position.
This was the part where Jeffery’s eyes lit up like a thousand stars in the night sky.
“It said to call the family back. What does that mean cousin?” Jacob Dahl had swore twice and then apologized to his younger relation for his offense, adding for the scowling wife in the hall that swearing was not good and the Lord didn’t take kindly to it.
Then he had told Jeffery to go home and call on him later the next afternoon. He had spent most of the night sleeping fitfully trying to understand just what his grandfather had been thinking. Bring the family back? Was he raving mad?
He finished dressing and pulled his suspenders up over his shoulders. A moment later his twin pistols were holstered and strapped in for the day. The battered brown duster then slipped over his body and rested comfortably on his built frame. A battered cowboy hat littered his head and he was out the door and into the mild sunshine.
The Dahl family had called Coldstone home since the family had originally traveled across the ocean from Portsmouth back in the day of the discovery of the new lands beyond the old. A rich history had been founded by Otto’s grandfather. It was only a matter of time before everything unraveled. Otto and his wife bore seven children. Of those, three brought grandchildren into the world.
The Plague soon exploded from the depths of the Gold Mountains and struck the Dahl family. The sons and daughters of Otto Dahl were all killed within a year of the disease appearing. It left grandchildren without homes and parents.
Some had been sent back to Portsmouth. Others had been old enough to strike out on their own. And yet some like Jeffery remained in a city stained with death.
Jacob spit at the memory of those years. They threatened to spill froth from his mind and he growled as the emotions pushed at the dam at the top of his throat. He wouldn’t let this bother him today. Jeffery was his charge, his mission and one of the few last hopes left in the city. Jacob intended to get his younger cousin out and away from the shadows of the Gold Mountains before they had a chance to take him.
Taking a deep breath he looked towards the very mountains that had brought Coldstone into existence. They had long run short of the resource they had taken their name from but now lesser minerals were pulled from the scraggly rockfilled mountains. It had allowed Coldstone to remain standing but it had also brought darkness with it. Those that had depended on the gold supply had turned to the shadowy work out of desperation. It had become a ugly cloud above the city that Otto Dahl had been fighting for far too long.
It had finally taken him.
Jacob growled again. He would damned if he let it take Jeffery.
