The road ahead stretched out in silence for a long while. Pudding's hooves keeping a steady rhythm.
The sun started to set, its light bleeding gold across the plains. Shadows stretched long and slow. The heat was being replaced with a dry, gentle chill that only came from desert nights.
Neither of them had spoken in hours. Amos's head was slightly down, his good eye half-lidded, his hand still gripping Gideon's coat for balance. Every so often, his other hand would drift to his left eye, brushing at the skin, like he could rub the ache away.
Gideon cleared his throat. "Sun's dyin'. We oughta find a camp soon."
"Mmm…" Amos said tiredly.
"You good to keep ridin' a bit longer?"
"Mmm…"
They rode another mile or two before Gideon spotted a crooked tree by a dried-up creek bed. He pulled the reins, and Pudding slowed to a stop.
Amos slid off the horse, landing stiffly; his legs wobbled from the long ride.
"...It's nice. I like it."
Gideon huffed a laugh through his nose, looping Pudding's reins around a tree.
Amos sat down on a flat rock, trying to wake himself up.
Gideon knelt by his saddlebag and started rummaging through it, pulling out a crumpled bedroll and a dented tin can. "You thirsty?"
Amos nodded. "Mmm."
Gideon poured a small stream of water into the tin and handed it over. "Bonjour!"
He had meant to say bon appétit, but Gideon's an idiot so he didn't know and it wouldn't matter anyway since Amos didn't even know what bonjour meant, so he just thought it meant something like 'Enjoy!'
Amos took it with both hands, his fingers trembling slightly from the chill. He sipped slowly, chugging it all; he hadn't had water in a day. "Blehh…" The water tasted kinda funny. "Gross…"
Gideon snorted. "Yeah, she's got a bit o' rust." He finished laughing. "...I'm gon' build us a fire."
Amos wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grimacing.
He built the fire by gathering a few dry sticks and striking a match. The fire caught quickly, crackling to life. The fire painted both their faces with a flickering orange. Amos stared at it a bit too long.
Gideon sat on the ground cross-legged across from Amos, shaking the dust off his hat. "So, Amos, what brings a kid like you into the Bureau work anyway? Most join cuz of something personal."
Amos didn't answer right away. He sat with his elbows on his knees, staring at the fire like it might blink first.
"I guess it is something personal." He finally said.
Gideon stared at Amos for a moment.
"...I joined cuz a demon killed my family." Gideon finally said.
Amos's good eye flicked up to him.
"I was out cleaning the barn, shoveling shit, feeding the horses, normal farm chores, y'know?" Gideon shifted uncomfortably, but he tried to mask it. "Once I finished, I walked back home, and I saw the house in pieces, most of it destroyed somehow. So I ran to see what happened."
Gideon swallowed. "Before I even stepped inside, I could smell blood, but when I did step inside, I saw Pa in half, his blood and guts everywhere. Then I heard Ma screamin' upstairs; I ran to check on her just to see her…. Bein' eaten."
Amos kept staring at Gideon, not looking away.
"The demon turned its head, my mother's arm in its mouth, and I remember freezing, like my body stopped workin' and I felt… so powerless. Then Ma saw me and told me to run. Then all of a sudden I had control again, and I ran, and I didn't stop runnin' for a while."
Gideon leaned back on his hands, trying to act nonchalant. "That's why I joined the Bureau. I never wanna feel that powerless again.
He sighed "It's scary how many rangers share the same sorta story. Family bein' killed."
Gideon leaned forward his eyes reflecting the fire "I loathe every demon… Every day I pray that every damn demon on planet earth can just… Die. Disappear." Gideon said, pulling out his cross necklace. "Sorry… that was kinda depressin'." He returned the necklace back into his shirt.
Amos's eye flickered back to the fire. "...I hear ya."
Amos's eye then went back to Gideon. "...A demon killed everybody in the gang I ran with."
Gideon's finger tightened around the tin can. "You rode with outlaws?" he asked, not unkindly.
"I was raised by 'em. I never had a Ma or Pa… Or at least remember 'em." He said flatly. "For as long as I remember, they were my family. They took me in when I was small; they taught me how to pick a pocket, how to read the tracks, how to run when things got messy, how to read, how to write, how to shoot a gun."
Amos exhaled from his nose. "It was fun for a while… till I woke up from bed to all five of 'em dead, their bodies mangled and plastered with bullet holes."
"I dragged their bodies one by one five hundred yards away from where they died to a large empty plain. I dug up five graves and threw them into it, then buried them. Once I was done, I sat down on the hot dirt and listened to the humming of the nature around me… it was… hollow, not cuz they died, but because nobody would ever remember them. They ain't even have a proper grave to be remembered by; hell, I can't even remember where I buried them or their faces. And I thought… that was… terrifyin'. I still think it is."
Gideon listened without blinking.
"Weird thing was I remember not feelin' sad at all… I remembered feelin'… relieved…"
Amos yawned. "Now that I think 'bout it, why didn't I die?"
Gideon looked at Amos for a moment. "Maybe the Lord protected you, cause he knew that it wasn't your time to go or somethin'."
"Pssh...That's stupid."
Gideon cracked a faint grin. "Yeah… maybe."
Amos yawned again, this time longer. "Man… I'm tired…"
Gideon nodded, staring into the fire as it burned low. "Yeah… me too."
The fire had burned itself down to ash by morning. Sunlight crept over the hills, lighting the scrublands in gold.
Gideon woke up first; his neck was sore from sleeping upright. Gideon glanced over.
Amos was still asleep, his head slumped against a rock with his hat over his face and his hair spilling down the rock.
He looked peaceful.
Then he snored. A very loud snore. Not very peaceful...
"What the shit…?" Gideon stared with a baffled look on his face
A few moments later, Amos stirred. "...Mornin'."
Gideon was crouched by Amos. "Mornin'. You snore like a goddamn bear, you know that?"
Amos rubbed his eye, unimpressed. "That so?"
Gideon stood up and gently kicked Amos's shoulder. "Welp, get yer' ass up. We ain't that far from the station."
Amos sat up stretching as he exhaled, relieving the soreness in his body.
"Here ya go; it ain't much, but it'll do." Gideon said, tossing him some biscuits.
Amos caught it midair and took a lazy bite.
"Thanks." Amos said, his mouth still full.
Gideon nodded with a smile on his face. "Puddin's already up. Let's get outta here."
Amos stood up, brushing his coat, and tugged his hat down low as Gideon mounted Pudding.
Gideon patted Pudding's neck. "C'mon, girl. Wakey, wakey!"
Pudding let out a tired snort as Amos climbed up behind him, settling down.
Gideon clicked his tongue, and Pudding took off.
The ride was long and quiet for a while.
Amos tilted his head slightly, the sun shining into his right eye. "You think the Bureau'll like me?"
Gideon smirked. "Who gives a damn? My advice: worry 'bout yourself."
Amos looked down onto Gideon's shoulder, then back up to the back of his head. "Well... you think theres any folks my age?"
Gideon raised a brow. "Why're you askin'?"
Amos shrugged, kicking at a loose stone with the toe of his boot. "...I ain't never had friends before."
Gideon stayed silent for a moment.
"First you gotta worry about yourself; then come the friends." He finally said,
"Besides, ain't I your friend?"
Amos's face turned slightly red. "I—I guess you are…" Amos adjusted his hat to hide his face, but under the hat there was a big fat smile on his face, and he didn't quite understand why.
After that the ride returned to being quiet.