Crackshot

On the outskirts of the South end of Morissey, Freddie Bass was driving by at the standard speed limit of the city. In his mind, he thought of Chance and McSweeney heading out to Quitely Island, or rather the region close to it, Hauser, regarding the Hellfire Arm user, Mustang.

"Those two will probably handle it. There's McSweeney on board." Ford said in the passenger seat. He and Freddie agreed that they would check the South part of town. "Say Freddie. How'd you end up with the Havertons?"

"Grew up in Oyster Bay." Freddie explained. "About 4 years ago."

"So that means you're above Chance Gordon?"

"Just in experience. I used to serve on the Oyster Bay Guard, was there for a while til somebody gave my profile to the Havertons. Here I am now." Freddie sighed. "

"Be honest." Ford asked as they were at a red light. "Whadya think of Valefar? What came into your mind soon as you saw him?"

"Either's he's the Devil himself, or something close to him. When I found Red Rocket for the first time rest assured people around me were terrified, I saw them shaking their bones to the absolute, especially when they saw Valefar.

"Remind me not to piss that guy the fuck out next time." Ford exclaimed as he was using part of his American flag cape to polish the All-American. "These Hellfire Arm users are already bad in and of themselves. Last thing I need is him doing something crazy as a demon, whatever the hell he really looks like underneath that human shell of his!. Say, why the hell we ain't moving?"

Freddie peeked out the window of the police wagon he and Ford were in. Behind them were other police wagons, each with Thompson rifles in the trunks. The Haverton heard the glaring horns from the cars around him. He saw many people of different groups; caucasians, african-americans, italians. They were all honking their cars horns louder than an emergency siren.

He went out of the car, followed by Ford. The rest of the MPD officers were behind them. When Freddie took a few steps onto the sidewalk to get a better path to walk, he took a few steps before he saw what was causing the cars to pile up in a jam.

"Whaddya see?" Ford exclaimed as Freddie was still silent. Freddie himself swore he saw the outline of a man with a barrel revolver on his head, and extended barrels on his arms.

"Ford." Freddie spoke without yelling. His voice was clear enough to reach the HAST member. "It's a Hellfire Arm user."

"What? Shit." Ford went to the patrol car he was in with Freddie before, before tuning the police radio. "This is HAST officer Ford. A Hellfire Arm user has been spotted" he started before he took the details from Freddie. "Suspect has extensive amounts of barrel revolvers on his body, hands and arms included. Has a distinctive scar in the shape of the..American flag?"

Freddie shrugged.

"We'll try to hold our ground, get Valefar ready to head to Becker street in the South End, just a few miles before Pembroke."

"Two of us Hellfire Arm users might not be enough." Freddie spoke.

Ford looked at the Haverton and nodded. As he sighed, he spoke onto the radio. "Detective Bass believes that an additional HAST member must be around to assist us. Gather any officers and decide which one of them is willing to use one of the Hellfire Arms we have confiscated, Dr. Goodlife, Krieg, Rambler, Solstice. Anything except Aftershock."

"Aftershock?" Freddie raised an eyebrow.

"Crazy ass Hellfire Arm that Chance and I found in Pembroke. The thing can cause Earthquakes, we can't have that around Morissey, wouldn't want these buildings topping over like fucking dominoes."

His words were cut off thanks to the sound of people screaming, in addition to the sight of a car flying in the air, thrown over to the end of the street like a baseball.

"Ford!" said an officer behind. "I just got word from central command on behalf of Valefar! Be on the lookout for Earl Wayne Johnson, he's got Chaos Freedom Cannon!"

"Someone get back to the 9th precinct and get another HAST member over here. The rest of you, either support me and Freddie, or get the civilians in check." Ford took out the All-American, before he ran up to the front followed by Freddie.

Ford himself stood in silence at the sight of Johnson. "Son of a bitch." he said.

Johnson himself stood on top of the roof of a car by the time his barrel revolver head started to shoot bullets upwards. On the side of his arms were two long extended barrel revolvers, both of the edges charred out slightly. Ford squinted his eyes and saw cylinders in the palm of Johnson's hands.

He's a living gun, Ford thought, as he saw various men behind Johnson, wielding all sorts of firearms; handguns, shotguns, rifles, then he saw one figure wearing what seems to be a heavy set of protection, almost metal like.

"You're got to be fucking kidding me." Ford complained before he saw Johnson turned to him. Johnson himself gave a wide smile.

"The law protects us at times, but it also limits our freedom, especially when they take orders from the higher dogs in this here city!"

Ford flinched slightly at the vibrance of a red missile passing through him, raising his cape slightly. The edge of the missile dented Johnson's head slightly, yet when the damage was done, it healed itself.

Freddie looked at Ford after that shot was fired from Red Rocket. "Less staring, more shooting?"

Ford grinned, just as Johnson yelled at the two Hellfire Arm users and their police backup behind.

"Well looks like the cavalry's here boys!" Johnson exclaimed, his voice was loud and wide, clear to the men wearing black clothes over the lower parts of their faces. Some of them had belts of bullets. "Let's have some fun!"

The South's gonna be raining bullets, Ford through as he fired a shot, followed by what would be thousands more.

***

Chance stood upright as his shadow was cast onto the ground. His hands were near his gun belt, where Showdown was strapped tightly.

So far Mustang had been a crackshot, Chance felt luck was on his side ever since the encounter, those Deadly Shells of Mustang's could have turned him into dead remains. Wonder what deal or connection he had with Bright, he wondered, whilst Mustang had Tombstone strapped onto the hostile Hellfire Arm user's back.

If you manage to injure the bastard, then end him quickly, the disemboweled voice came from Showdown again.

"Who the hell are you!?" Chance demanded.

The one from a time where killing turned boys into men, Chance looked at Showdown holstered, before he saw a transparent looking man with a hat, wearing a similar attire to Chance's current appearance. The outline of the jacket, the trousers, the boots, the man looked almost the same, albeit his appearance had no color, just as transparent as glass.

"I had a good look into your head, Haverton." the Transparent Man spoke. "A man who had his share of time in the war, but still is hesitant to kill in some cases. Understandable I suppose, sometimes. Too much killing can really put a man straight out of his mind."

"Buster Hardin!" Mustang yelled out loud to the Transparent Man, who was clear as day in the hostile old timer's eyes. At this point, Chance could see from the windows of various buildings; civilians were shivering, some not daring to turn their eyes at the scene unfolding.

"Mustang McDonald, as I live and breathe!" Hardin laughed cynically. "You poor bastard, using some other old timer's body? I expected better from a dead man."

"I want Dark Dice!" Mustang yelled.

"Like hell would I know where he's at." Hardin claimed. "Right now this is a Showdown. Haverton, remember, no dishonorable shots. The only thing I had more than cranky people, are cowards."

Hardin decimated into mist and went back inside Showdown, the Hellfire Arm. Dust from the streets began to rise following a piece of destruction thanks to Shelby's hooves, when Mustang pulled her to a heavy stop.

"Tsk, I can't believe that bastard is still around. Look at you Haverton! That Showdown belonged to a deadly man back in my days! Don't be surprised why you got voices in your head!" Mustang started. "But I ain't here to talk." he clenched his fists.

Chance swore he heard an eagle screeching, then took a few moments to see that it was indeed an eagle in the sky, but it wasn't the crimson eagle from Bright. It was a bald eagle.

Something I don't know about Showdown, Chance thought about his Hellfire Arm. Buster Hardin was already a surprise in itself.

Chance's eyes bulged, he picked up Showdown as Mustang did the same for Tombstone.

Mustang's finger was already on the trigger on Tombstone, as the two bullets went at lightning speed, before Showdown curved slightly to the left, hitting Mustang on the right side of his stomach. Tombstone's bronze bullet slashed Chance across the left side of his upper chest. Both men felt down following the impact of their bullets.

Dammit! Chance thought as he felt specks of blood gushing out of his wound. It was as painful as the next Hellfire Arm, burning inside even.

If it weren't for Showdown, who knows what damage that thing's bullets could have done, he thought as he started to reload.