News

Those villainous denizens of the sink-hole that sits on Aftermath’s doorstep - that blight on the countryside named San Luis  - showed their true clours once again last night. The bandido gang of Los Lobos had promised to come to Aftermath City’s aid in the event of an indian attack but instead took the opportunity to add to the town’s woes in a series of roguish acts af villainy.

Their betrayal became obvious when their onrushing “rescuers” diverted into the town bank - a muffled thud was shortly heard as they attempted to blow the safe (the patented Rudyard and Pingley lock withstood their efforts - and is available by stage for a very reasonable $12).

Next the slippery dogs gunned down one of Jim Royal’s deputies as he left the Gem theatre and saloon to add his gun to the defence of the town. The bandidos were not to have things all their own way, however, as none other than Preacher (ably supported by 2 of Lt. Meehan’s troopers) burst into the bank in an unparalleled feat of riding atop his horse Angel and opened fire on the miscreants as they attempted to make off with the city safe. In the ensuing gun battle the mexicans were able to make good their escape with the heavy vault.

The mexicans also laid several fires - including along the west wall of the Gem Theatre - to cover their escape. The desperate citizens trapped inside the Gem saloon grabbed bottles of the nearest liquid to douse the spreading fires - and despite this being the Gem’s “finest whisky” according to the labels the liquor curiously had the desired effect and smothered the flames.

Surely a punitive raid on San Luis is now in order for Sherriff Royal and his Aftermath allies? And, perhaps more importantly, what is the answer to the question on every one’s lips:

“Where were the Pinkertons when we needed them most?”

Taking advantage of the diversion of attention elsewhere this reporter is sad to have to announce that the scourge of Aftermath City in recent years - Heartbreaker Eddy of the Wild Cards gang - has escaped from his incarceration in the Pinkereton’s gaol.

Heartbreaker Edddy was awaiting trial for three counts of murder and numerous robberies and petty larceny. Their can be no doubt that he will have once again surrounded himself with ne’er do wells and brigands who will stop at nothing in their pusuit of personal gain by illicit means.

Sherriff Royal has issued a Wanted price of $25 dead or alive for the recapture of this infamour villain.

The brave citizens or Aftermath were counting the cost this morning as the sun rose on the smoking remains of their once proud city. Last night’s Apache attack, the redskins taking advantage of the moonless night to launch their long expected raid, has left the town reeling and several of its inhabitants injured.

The attack began when rancher Jackson, owner of the Southfork ranch, was struck by an arrow at the main barricade to the east of the city. Rancher Jackson had brought his cow hands into the city to bolster its defences in the realisation that his own isolated steading was indefensible. The next minute Apache braves were streaming through the flimsy defences of the city - looting the Stagecoach office before swarming over the Undertaker’s offices. Clem Wheeler and his wife were hard pressed on several sides by the despicable natives - though they showed that the citizens of Aftermath are no pushover and saw off no less than 4 braves between them. Mrs Wheeler was heard to bellow at one marauder “You should be ashamed of yourself - what would your mother say?” as she pushed the tongue-lashed brave from the stairway. Things became even more desperate as the underhand apache fired the building beneath its stalwart defenders, who included Doctor Fondly and an unidentified cavalry trooper. Sadly Clem himself fell in combat towards the end of the evening and only time will tell if his funereal presence will ever again grace the streets of Aftermath.

Although the brave lads of Lieutenant Meehan’s patrol stemmed the flood, it was undoubtedly the timely arrival of those inscrutable oriental fellows from the Green Dragon Laundry who began to turn the tide - efficiently and methodically carving their way through the attacking tribesmen with practised ease: if the laundrymen of the far east are like this, woe betide anyone who ever meets their warriors!

Sherriff Royal’s posse were once again at the rough end of things and several of their number rapidly fell to indian attacks, but the Sherriff himself orchestrated the desperate defence with both panache and bravery: it was his ringing of the alarm bell that set the defenders in motion. Special mention should also be made of those brave brawlers “Crusher” O’Reilly and “Fightin” Bob Tracey who, after initially deserting their posts at the barricade (ostensibly to alert the town to danger) soon threw themselves pell-mell at the onrushing barbarians - clubbing one after the other to the ground in an awesome diplay of pugilistic skill and the effects of righteous anger. One unfortunate indian was knocked unconcious into an open grave in the cemetery by these two fist fighters and then repeatedly buffetted as he lay moaning atop the uncovered casket!

The indian assailants got as far as the Green Dragon Laundry, robbing that establishment as its owners were out of the street battling for their lives, and assaulting Micheal O’Shaughnessy who had been detailed to man the barricades on that side of town. Michael is recovering in his bed this morning, but swears that his attacker was none other than the feared Apache leader Wily Coyote himself - and this reporter is inclined to believe the usually trustworthy publican.

As the sun began to rise, after several hours of desperate fighting, and with the smoke of burning buildings obscuring the defenders’ vision, the majority of the Apache tribesmen melted back into the woods to the east of the city, isolated tribesmen who were unable to make good their escape being roughly treated by gangs of Aftermath citizens in a series of revenge beatings.

Mayor Swanton had this to say, by telegram from San Francisco (where he has been looking after his elderly aunt), “Brave defenders of Aftermath STOP so much is owed to you this proud morning STOP sorry not to have been with you in your finest hour STOP”. 

This reporter is sure that we have not seen the last of the indian menace!

This reporter is sorry to have to report that the recent trouble with the local aboriginals of the Apache tribe seems to be escalating and that our beautiful town seems to be poised on the very brink of bloodshed on a veritably apocolyptic scale. The trouble seems to have begun recently when the local Army detachement, acting on orders from Washington it is believed, attempted to move on part of the tribe from their chosen summer camp (see last issue of the Sentinel for more details of this caowardly ambush on our brave boys in blue).

Since then Indian activity has been on the increase: the weekly stage coach from Tucson was attacked and only just succeeded in escaping a war party made up of young braves and, more ominously, war drums have been heard nightly in the foothills around Aftermath City. Indian experts, such as Clint Patterson (owner of Pattersons Gun Emporium and a veteran of past indian wars), say this may well be a call going out to dispersed elements of the tribe calling them to arms.

The town mayor, Jim Swanton, has urged the townsfolk of Aftermath to remain calm in the current crisis, to stockpile food within reason, to lock their doors at night and keep their guns handy. Speaking to a worried throng outside the Gem Theatre, Aftermath’s unofficial town hall, Mayor Swanton said:

“I do not believe the red man is foolish enough in this day and age to try his luck against our superior weaponry - he has learnt in years gone past that native steel and bravery is no match for the combined talents of Messrs. Smith, Wesson and Colt. That being said I know that I can rely on every single citizen of our beloved town to leap to her defence should we be in anyway threatened.”

Further signs of the perilousness of the situation were evident today when the local army detachment led by Lieutenant Meehan decamped to the town itself for the duration of the crisis. It can only be hoped that an urgent despatch has been sent to bring reinforcements and end this brooding siege that has gripped Aftermath.

Those gallant soldiers of the US Cavalry were hard pressed today following an appalling attack on them by the local APache tribe. Several soldiers lie injured in the Army sanatorium and further bloodshed is feared now that the indians have tasted blood.

 The army were called in after the apache, the scourge of peaceful Aftermath in years gone by, settled in a summer camp close to the town. Anxious ranchers pleaded with the local army detachment, fearing for the safety of their livestock. Accordingly the cavalrymen, complete with horses that have recently arrived from Fort Salute, approached the indian encampment as dawn tinged the horizon. Politely requesting that the indians pack up and move on fighting broke out following the wounding of Liutenant Meehan’s horse. The army retaliated - taking down 2 indians - before a further 7 indians revealed sprung form cover and bushwhacked the courageous troopers.

Things went from bad to worse as the beleaguered troopers were engaged on all sides in desperate hand-to-hand fighting: 3 troopers succumbing to the plethora of viscious attacks. The remaining cavalrymen escaped for the open, taking advantage of the slaying of one indian brave and the opening it created.

Reports from the army Fort indicate that at least 1 trooper will take some time to recover from his wounds - meanwhile surely it cannot be long before the indian menace is felt here in Aftermath itself? Will nobody stop these crazed aboriginals??

That den of iniquity that lurks just over the river from our glorious town of Aftermath once again showed itself to be a sinkhole attracting the very worst that the West has to offer this week. Although this reporter was not on hand to witness events, fearing for his life in crossing the river, rumours have been circulating in the taverns and saloons of Aftermath all week and this is what I have gleaned.

It  seems the troubles began when a wild looking band of desperadoes crossed the river early in the morning, intent on finding somewhere to hole up and stash their loot. This naturally attracted the attentions of the feisty Earp girls and their allies, ladies who have determined to stamp out the evil menace of San Luis and return it to its former glory. Sadly the outlaw band were no newcomers to shooting irons and quickly picked off 3 of the Earp deputies for no reply.

The situation became more confused, however, when the Arizona Ranger girls, contravening their remit in pursuit of the bandidos said to haunt San Luis, entered the fray. These dead eye shots soon took out both a bandido and one of the outlaw newcomers, and Ginny Earp herself gunned down another outlaw before Winnie Earp was critically hit in an exchange with the outlaws. The Earp sisters and their confederates realised they were outgunned and called it a day leaving their Ranger allies facing both the outlaws and the bandidos (who, it became obvious, were aware of their approach).

There was no honour amongst theives, however, and it is clear that the bandidos were as unimpressed with the attempt of the outlaw newcomers to muscle in on their turf as they were with the Rangettes persistent attempts to bring them to justice. The bandidos quickly drove the remaining outlaws out of town (rumour has it they skulked into Aftermath that night) .

The Arizona Rangers proved to be a tougher nut to crack however - despite taking out no less than 4 of the plucky ladies in a series of brilliantly executed ambushes in the tight streets that the bandido leader knows so well - the Rangettes were able to withstand the onslaught and force the cowardly Mexicans to flee. Sadly their lack of numbers meant that the lawgirls were unable to bring the ruffians in - perhaps this feud hasn’t run its course yet?

The funeral in Aftermath’s Chinese community of the former rail worker known only as Hong was spoilt today when pandemonium broke out following the hurling of as yet unidentified incendiary devices, believed to be firecrackers, at the cortege.

The funeral of the immigrant worker, gunned down in crossfire recently during the apprehension of Heartbreaker Eddie, was going well initially - the cortege proceeding from the Green Dragon Laundry and making its way peacefully to the graveyard where Virgil Swanson awaited to inter the body. As the cortege passed near Patterson’s Gunshop, however, a miscreant - believed to be one of the Wild Card Gang - was seen hurling a smoking stick at the passing procession. Two funeral procession members split off from the main group and tackled the assailant. Questions are being asked as to why seemingly peaceful funeral attendees should be so heavily armed with an array of edged weapons. In the end the outlaw, believed to be no less than Jim “Deuce” Hicks, leapt from the balcony rather than be carved up by the irate “laundrymen”.

The situation degenerated however, with shots ringing out from across the street and a second gang member appearing to fan his sixguns at the funeral group from the doorway of the Undertaker’s opposite the churchyard. Despite this unwelcome attention the Chinese funeral was able to proceed and inter the body before dealing in robust fashion with the group of assailants. One Wild Card member, if such they were, preferred to surrender himself to the arriving law enforcement officers rather than face the vengeful fury of the sword armed orientals. This reporter was on hand to witness their unbridled fury - a sight to behold - and it is clear that the tightly knit community (dare we call it a gang?) has become a force to be reckoned with in Aftermath City.

This reporter is sorry to report that those crazy cowpokes from the ranch east of Aftermath have been up to their old tricks and causing havoc in the fair city of Aftermath again. They arrived mob handed at the Aftermath City Saloon and played a few hands of poker before one of their number was caught dealing from the bottom of the deck and a rumpus broke out. After trying to talk his way out of trouble the ranch hand flipped the poker table and a fight broke out - only the timely intervention of the bar owner Michael O’Shaughnessy armed with a chair, who despite being outnumbered 3-1, broke the fight up as the cow pokes headed upstairs to try their luck with the ladies of the tavern.

 The arrival of the law at the saloon saw the cowboys nonchalantly weaving their drunken way across the road to the Gem Theatre and saloon, leaving Mr. O’Shaughnessy to pick up the unconcious Fiddler from the saloon floor and put his bar back in order. The cowboys will no doubt receive a stern warning from the city law enforcement officers who, whilst they were on the scene, chose not to intervene - preferring to watch the progress of the fight form the safety of the street instead!

 The ranch hands devilry didn’t stop there however - back at the Gem they were up to their old tricks again only this time they had reckoned without the sharp eyes of Smiling Clyde, the local poker shark. He immediately called out his cheating opponent and a short gun battle ensued in which neither party was wounded. The cowboys have been banned from playing poker at the Gem for a month.

The town’s beloved Preacher, the enigmatic moral guardian of the city of Aftermath, lies wounded in his bed after he was mercilessly gunned down by as villainous bunch of rogues as this town has ever seen breezed in from the East yesterday. Preacher had gone with Virgil Swanson to inspect his handiwork in the churchyard when the posse approached him before drawing iron in an unprecedented assault.

Preacher, no stranger to a gun himself, covered the flight of Virgil, seeing the gravedigger safe, before returning to the fray in an attmpt to prevent any of his flock becoming their next victim. Despite being outnumbered 7-1 Preacher took the time to read the scriptures to the bunch of no-gooders and exchanged shots with them as they cowered in Clem’s undertaker’s. It was at thast fateful moment that a lucky shot from one of the outlaws caught Preacher in the shoulder, throwing him from the saddle of his beloved Angel. As Preacher lay in the dirt the outlaws opened fire on the hapless Clem and even shot at Angel too!

The gang eventually skulked out of town under the cover of darkness, but not before one of their number, a mere kid, had been taken into custody. He will stand trial for his crimes next week. The local sherrif has posted wanted pictures of the remainder of the gang, and the entire bunch of desperadoes now has a price on their heads - $10 a man and $15 for the gang’s cold-blooded leader. Will no -one bring these evil men to justice?

That sad character who trails the byways of Aftermath, Barton Funk, was the victim of a vicious assault at the hands of several of the Pinkerton Agency’s detectives last night. Barton was, in his words, enjoyig a quiet stroll through the centre of town when he espied the agents standing outside their agency. Having left his pocket watch in his best trousers, Barton claims, he went to enquire of the agents the time. At that point his ancestry was called into question and a fight broke out, Barton flailing wildly with a “medicine” bottle that he was carrying to his sick Aunt Agatha, in bed with consumption ( Ed: consumption is not his uncle’s name) . The next thing Barton recalls he awoke in the alley behind the Pinkerton Agency with a sore head and he thinks that he may also have been robbed by the agents as he unable to locate either his medicine bottle or the $1.26 he had on his person.

The local sherriff has visited the Pinkerton’s and seems happy with their version of events, though he has promised to keep a close eye on the private law firm in future.