Screech- the train's wheels slowly came to a halt as it neared the platform. Rayfield looked out the window holding his head up by his palm. A herd of buffalo ran in the distance as the sunrise painted the sky in a soft gleaming gold filled with warmth.
"Town murdered by a witch! The Evils of magic and why we must ban it!"
Rayfield turns his head to the platform and sees a boy standing on top of a box. He held up newspapers and called out headlines to passers by either getting on or off the train.
"Sheriff driven mad! Whispers from something far beyond?"
A few women who got off the train walked over and bought themselves a copy from the young boy. The boy held out his hand and the women dropped a few coins in it before walking off with the newspaper clutched closely under their arms.
Rayfield squinted his brown eyes as he looked at the boy, something stirred within him at that moment. The boy slowly turned into the visage of his brother, the one he left behind after getting drafted. The one he was never able to say goodbye to.
He clutched his coat. It was the union's army uniform. The blue was faded and it was slowly losing its color, the patches had loose hanging bits off it and it had mud on the collar which seemed to never go away no matter how much one scrubbed.
His disheveled brown hair which grew to touch his collar fell forward as he held his head down. He took a moment to collect his thoughts before he turned back and the image of his brother overlapping with the boy faded.
-Just my mind playing tricks on me, I have been on this train for way too long… But why now… Why him…
His hand curled into a fist which whitened his knuckles before relaxing with a deep breath.
Rayfield was content waiting for the train to depart to the next location, where? He did not know. Perhaps a place to truly be lost.
The door to his passenger cart opened up and a man stepped in clutching what appeared to be flyers.
A foreigner, one of Asian descent. It wasn't anything special, ever since gold has been found in California there has been a massive influx of immigrants. However what was strange was the professional look he had. He stood straight and gave off an aura of confidence which was only exemplified with the suit and tie which seemed to be tailor made for him.
The man: "I am in need of bounty hunters to hunt for the one who killed my master's son! I offer $200 for the job!"
His English was a little rough around the edges but he was clear enough to follow.
The man walked down the aisle and scanned the crowd which was filled with mostly desperate people looking for a new life with nothing but the clothes on their back or those coming for the supposed abundance of gold in California.
The man eventually stopped when he saw Rayfield, his eyes scanned the uniform he was in and nodded.
"I presume that is your uniform? You served during the civil war?"
Rayfield merely nodded and narrowed his eyes. The man smiled in response and eyed Rayfield closer, as if inspecting him.
In his eyes it wasn't one filled with patriotic pride, to him that uniform wasn't a representation of victory or defeat like some see when they view it. Instead in his eyes gleamed something useful, a man who had survived a war and earned great skills because of it.
"Then you must know danger pretty well; you are exactly the type of man I am looking for."
A flyer was pushed into his hands. On it was a picture of a young Chinese man with the words 'Help' at the top.
Below the picture it said: "To anyone who can bring the head of Qu Lin's killers may be offered $200 from the Lin family."
Rayfield examined the help wanted poster before looking back at the man who merely watched expectantly.
"I assume this is a picture of Qu Lin and not the killer, can I have a picture of who I am gunning down instead."
"I am sorry to say sir but we do not know what they look like."
Rayfield merely scoffed before handing the poster back.
"I ain't no detective you hear? This is something you should take to the sheriff or law enforcement instead."
"Well sir the proper authorities have been notified but…"
The man's smile dropped for a moment as if he was reminiscing on something.
"They will be of no use because they just wrote it off so instead I look for those with the skills to investigate. You see, the Lin family, the one I work for, is very wealthy and refuses to let this go and are willing to pay a large sum for your time."
His smile returned as he pressed the flyer into Rayfield's hands once more.
-That is a lot of money…
Rayfield dug in his pocket and clutched at nothing but air. His last dollar was used for this trip, this wandering pilgrimage into an unknown frontier. A place to escape it all.
-This appears to be my stop anyways and it doesn't hurt that this man is offering more money than I've ever seen in my life. Succeed or not I made it rather far enough, no one will find me here nor care to look out here.
Rayfield folded the help wanted poster and put it into his empty pocket before standing up.
"Fine, why not, I ain't got anything better to do."
The man held out his hand.
"Wonderful! My name is Yin Zhao. I work for the Lin family as a servant."
"Rayfield Smith."
He shook the hand of his new business partner. A tight clasp met another as they gave each other a firm handshake.
A deal struck in dust and desperation.