Pearson Saga:Where The Strong Survive

                      THE PEARSON SAGA BY: LANCE PETERSEN
                                                    BOOK I
                          WHERE THE STRONG SURVIVE: Nick Pearson
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                                                  CHAPTER 1
              The misty haze finally lifted from my eyes and I finally came to. I was on my back in a slushy puddle with my own blood mixed in. I was sporting a .45 bullet in my side and to top the pain that I felt it was raining hard as anything that I’ve ever been in.

         I tried to sit up but my entire body was stiff and the bullet was piercing my abdomen making the slightest movement torture. I wasn’t having the best of nights. Finally after much struggle I crawled to a nearby stump on the side of the muddy pathway I was laying in and propped myself up against it. My clothes were drenched to the bone and I was groggy from blacking out.

         It all started just before the torrential rains began. It was a nice night then and I was shooting the breeze at the Zenith Saloon with a little game of poker and a couple drinks of fine brew. I knew the men I was playing against were shady characters, but I didn’t care much, I was there to win. From the start things were going well for me and it kept going. I could tell that it wasn’t making the other players very happy. Each hand I did well on they became increasingly angry and each one eyed me with suspicion. One had a long scraggly beard and a beat up looking face. the other smoked a rolled cigar down to the stub and he watched me with a dirty face that looked like it hadn't been washed in years. There was one more, a shaky young man with red hair. He was probably a cow hand and thought he would try to win some money he was just paid. Well he sure wasn't winning anything that night.
         After a couple hours the kid was out and he looked as if he was about to cry. I usually feel sorry for people like that but when you play poker, it's cut throat. But I tried to cool him down...Maybe I should kept my mouth shut. Oh well it always gets me into trouble anyways.

            "Hey kid, no hard feeling's aight? You played a good game, you'll get it next time!"

         I thought I was convincing anyways, because in reality he played horribly, like it was his first time, and your first time I recommend playing a friendly game so you don't lose anything. I also seriously doubt he was gonna win anything the next time he played either. Oh well you win some you lose some I guess.
It wasn't long before the last man folded, I had a enormous pot of around $1,300 and a mob of unhappy men after me. They were angry that they were beat by a stranger to the area. After my big win I gathered my earnings and put them into my thick wool jacket, went to the bar counter and quickly swigged a glass of whiskey. After finishing, I payed and walked out into the brisk air of a cold November night in Northern Minnesota. The town of Duluth was homely and it was bright out, not only from the street lamps that dimly lit the road, but also from the moon reflecting off the light dusting of pure white snow. This gave me a calm feeling as I walked the empty street with my hands in my pockets and my mind not paying attention to anything but the peaceful serene feeling that I got from the autumn night.
         I definitely wasn't paying attention as I walked passed a dark alleyway, and didn't notice until I was grabbed by dark figures and pushed up into the pitch black alley          
         "You owe us some money boy!" Said a gruff voice. I could tell it was the scraggly bearded guy with the beat up face. The next to speak was the cowhand.

         "Yea....Yeah! It was unfair! I wa...Want my money Chea...Cheater!"

         "Now you know we all played a fair game friends! Ill be taking my leave now gentlemen." I said trying to avoid the inevitable. No such luck. I was grabbed roughly by the men and pushed up against a building in the alley.

         "We aint yer friends and you best pay up or it's gonn get real ugly here right quick!" Threatened another.

         "I really don't wanna fight about this, fair is fair and I won fairly in poker so I will take my earnings and go!" I was quickly getting annoyed with these fellers.
Suddenly I was punched squarely in the jaw by one of the men, followed quickly by a jarring kick in the side by another, sending me crouching and gasping for breath. Now they made me mad. I can take that they were mad about losing their money, maybe even them cussin and threatening me a bit. But once you sucker punch me, you crossed the line. Not only a sucker punch, which by the way whoever did it hit like a girl, but I got a hard boot to the side too.
         I got up from my crouched position as a figure came at me. From what I could make out he was skinny and tall, I figured it was the cowhand. He took a swing at me in the dark. It must have been him because he knew just about as much about fighting as he did about poker. Nothing. His punch was wide, giving me enough time to give him two quick hard jabs to the face and stomach. He made a little yelp, then sent him to the ground with another hit to face.
         I heard another run at me from behind. I elbowed him full in the face as he was running at full speed for me knocking him to his feet, dazed. Before anymore punches or kicks could be thrown a door to one of the buildings facing the alley swung open, light pouring into the dark alley. A pretty lady probably in her thirties was standing in the doorway.
"Horace! Val! Burt What are you thinkin, fightin like this in the alley? Ye' old drunks get on home before Sheriff Tate puts ye in a cell for the night! And Little Jimmy Sanders? Working with those rough cowboys aint good fer you I see! You get on Home too!"
The group dissipated at the mentioning of the lawman, they all left grumbling and looking back at me with hateful glares. The lady looked straight at me.

         "And who in god's name might you be mister?" She asked.

         "Names Nick Pearson Ma'am, Im just passin thru."

         "So mister Pearson, why are you causin' trouble in my town?" She glared at me with searching eyes.

         "Well ma'am we were just playing a friendly card game and it got a bit outta hand that's all." She looked at me still searching me. Then she seemed to soften a bit.
         "You sure must of beat em bad at that game! Anyways this here is a café and inn if you need a room we have some vacancies."
I nodded in appreciation. "Thank you kindly again ma'am, I think I will be staying over for a night or two." Veera smiled and held the side door open for me, and walked in out of the wintery night.
         Inside the old café it was cozy and warm. The chairs were stacked atop the tables and her son who looked about 12 years old or so with light brown hair and rosy cheeks was sweeping the wood plank floor cleaning up the dirt from the days traffic into the café. I smiled at the boy as he looked up from his sweeping

         "Ben, here's your dime for all the work you've done today, now run and get room 7 ready for this man will you?" Ben left off from the sweeping, took the dime from his mother's hand and ran up the stairs at the back of the café with the keys to the room.
After a couple of minutes I went up to the room, after paying for the night and went thru the door labeled room 7. Ben was hurrying to clean up the room and make the bed.

         "Here ya' go mister, it's all ready for ya'! Anything else you need sir?" Asked the boy.

         "No Ben that's all for now, here's a nickel for your troubles friend!" I said and flipped the boy a nickel. I could see the excitement in his face at making 15 cents in one day. He left my room and shut the door.
I dropped onto the bed with a huff and kicked off my dusty boots, it felt great to free my feet from those hot old boots. Soon enough I was out like a light. I didn't even know why I was so tired but I didn't care, I was fast asleep.
         When I awoke the sunlight was streaming brightly through the halfway closed curtains, unusually bright for a November in the north. My family was from Colorado, but I moved to Minnesota a few years back because the land was cheaper and still new as of yet. It was a rugged territory like Colorado, but there was no mountains at all, only some Bluffs to the way south. It was a land of extremes, a tough land I liked very much. It was extreme in the summer, with hot humid days and lots of mosquitoes. But The winter on the other hand was another extreme. It was so cold, that some days that if you spit it'd freeze before it got out of your mouth. That’s why I liked it though the cold weather made me feel alive and strong.
         After I dressed and freshened up I went down to the café where it was the morning rush. The café was bustling with old and young eating the good smelling breakfast that Veera had made and drinking morning coffee. Veera came up to me and greeted me while holding empty cups, plates and forks on a tray.

         "Hey there mister Pearson! Did ya sleep good?" She asked with a southern accent very unusual for the north.

         "Yes I did Veera thank you, but the bright sun woke me up early this morning." I said making conversation.

         "Yeah it's quite a warm day for November in this frigid place! It feels more like  where I come from in Tennessee!" She answered. Then she waved and said a hasty goodbye as she went back to work trying to take care of everything going on in the busy café. I put on my hat and stepped out onto the walkway in front of the café squinting as I looked towards the sun bright in the morning sky. It was a warm day.
         I spent the uneventful day wandering around the bustling town of Duluth. It was a town that was growing rapidly and in a few years it would be a major city. It was completely dependent on the huge Lake Superior. Fishing and shipping to other states like Wisconsin and Michigan as well as other states along the great lakes was the biggest businesses for the growing town.
         As the sun went down, I sat on a dock of the clear unfrozen lake, look out at the beautiful sight of a fishing boat way out on the horizon of the seemingly endless freshwater. The lake was quite different indeed, it was freezing cold all year long, but it never froze completely, being so big. Quite suddenly the clouds on the lake started to look ominous and stormy. There was a storm brewing on the waters much like storms on the open sea. I figured I should start walking back, I didn’t want to get caught in a storm, seeing as it was so warm it would probably sleet and snow at the same time. Sleet is rain mixed with snow.
         I figured right. Before I could reach the main stretch of road through town it was already pouring rain and sleet, soaking me as I walked through the muddy roadway. It was pitch black and the rain and snow was making it slippery and slushy. I had to side step many slush puddles. I could see the lights of the main part of town looming closer into view and I hurried my pace because the temperature was dropping rapidly with the ice cold rain and snow.
         Out of nowhere there was a loud thunder crack ripping into the stormy sounds. I looked around, but saw no thunder and then realized that it wasn’t thunder. It was the report of a gun. I saw a large hole in my jacket and when I opened it there was a large blood stain and hole in my shirt also. That was unexpected.
         I fell to the ground as shock started to wear off and the real pain of hot lead in my side came. I was kneeling holding my right side where the gunshot wound was and trying to figure out what happened when I heard the slosh of footsteps on wet snow. When it stopped I heard a sneer from the shooter.

         "I Gotchya yew liddle cheatin' thief! Now Im gonna get my money, and ya better stay down!" I figured it was Horace the bearded and unpleasant man from last night. He seemed to be more than just the town drunk. I tried to turn and look at him but I was kicked in my wounded side. I went sprawling into a slushy puddle, I was convulsing from the extreme pain of being kicked and then everything went blurry as ice cold water splashed my face. The last thing I remember was seeing the sole of a boot coming in contact with my face and then I was out.
         That brings me to my present situation waking up in a puddle of water and slush with my blood in it and sporting the .45 in the side. Now while in the road I happened to be in the path of an oncoming wagon that was driving into Duluth. When the person driving the wagon saw my condition they stopped. It was a middle aged man, probably a farmer who needed some emergency supplies and he most likely got caught in the storm too.
                "You alright mister?" Asked the farmer concernedly to me.

         "Well if ya call getting shot in the back alright then yes I am. Thanks for stoppin I'll be needing a ride, I don't think I can walk it!" The farmer bent down and helped me to my feet and then to the covered wagon he was driving. I was so exhausted from the ordeal that by the time we were well on our way into town I fell asleep and didn’t wake up until the wagon came to a stop near the cafe/Inn. I told him that was where I was staying and he helped me inside. The café was closing but when Veera saw my predicament she came running over to me and the farmer as we came in the doorway.

         "Oh my Lord what happened to ye Pearson? Your shot!" She said in a shocked voice. I stumbled over words as I winced in pain when I tried to sit on a chair.

         "Yeah, well it seems one of my good friends decided to take his revenge to the next level. I believe it was the man Horace. He shot me in the back as I was strolling the street, then he gave me a couple a good boots and I was out! He took all the money and everything then left me for dead out there!" I explained. Veera's faced changed from a concerned motherly look to an angry expression.

         "Why that Horace! I'll get the sheriff ta find 'im in no time donchyou worry Nick. In fact I'll have my husband fetch Sheriff Tate now!" She said in a huffy voice. She turned to call her husband......
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                                              CHAPTER 2
              After The Sheriff came he asked me a couple questions, but he took into consideration that I had just been badly injured and needed my rest so he said he'd come back in a couple days after he did some investigating. So I answered that Horace had come up from behind and told em he wanted his money, he'd shot me in the back and I explained the rest of the ordeal. He then said his goodbyes and apologies for it happening, then he took his leave.
              Veera finished cleaning and bandaging me, the bullet had gone straight through so she didnt need to pull anyhting out of me, luckilly. After that I went the room I was staying in with the help of her husband and her son and because I was so exhausted, I fell asleep almost immediately. I rested for 2 days straight, hardly waking up atall, only to eat and go to the bathroom which was torture.
            After the second day I forced myself to move about. I walked down to the cafe from my room, wincing and limping lightly down the steps and into the cafe. It was late morning time, about 11 o'clock and the sun shown brightly thru the large window pane at the front of the cafe. It wasn't too busy yet inside, the lunch rush would be around 11:30, when the workers in town came for Veera's hot soup and sandwhiches