A Family That Travels West Together, Stays Together: A Steampunk/adventure in the American West

Benjamin poked at the crackling fire. Its amber glow danced on his face, warming his cheeks. He kept telling himself to go to bed, but he didn’t wish to lay down, feeling wide awake. Every few breaths, he’d let out a sigh.

A muffled coughing spasm came from inside his wagon. He glanced up at the covered buggy and felt a weight sink into his gut. He also didn’t wish to lay next to his daughter, in her current condition. Benjamin placed the stick down and steepled his hands. His forehead pressed into the side of his curling fingers.

“Please, Father of Understanding, let my young Amber be stronger than her mother against this illness,” he whispered.

Another set of coughs pipped up from inside the wagon. Benjamin’s prayers fell silent as his daughter’s coughing spasmed into a loud hacking. He reached for his stick to poke at the fire once more. He jabbed at the logs until a hissing crawled into his ears. He scanned the surrounding darkness. Thick oak trees and jutting rock formations cast their shadows around him.

“Jacob? Jacob? Where are you,” he asked.

Snapping twigs echoed in the distance. Benjamin rose to his feet. He reached for his rifle leaning against a nearby tree. A small figure took shape as it emerged from the treeline. Benjamin clutched his rifle with booths hands. The shadow stirred and quickened his pace.

“Father, wait,” came the voice. “It’s me.”

Benjamin felt the muscles in his chest ease. A sigh slumped his shoulders forward. A cold inhale filled his lungs. Benjamin stiffened his chin at the apex of his breath. His knuckles whitened around his rifle.

“What’re ya’ doin’ out there, Jacob,” he asked. “Are you tryin’ to get killed out here?”

The fire’s illumination reached out for Jacob as he emerged from the night’s shadows. His lowered head shook back and forth in response.

“No father, I apologize,” he answered. “I was trying to-”

Trying to what,” Benjamin interrupted. “Get ya’self killed? Is that what you were tryin’ to do?”

Jacob flinched back half a step. He shook his head again. He revealed an old rifle from behind his back. The wooden stock had faded over the years. Dents hinted at a well-used history. Benjamin’s eyes widened at the sight of the rifle. He snatched from his son’s hands and waved it in his face.

“Don’t you ever touch this! It’s all I have left of your grandfather! You think I want you out in the woods so the savages out there can take everything from me?”

Benjamin kicked up dust with a spin of his heels. He marched to the wagon, glancing over his shoulder at his son. Jacob pulled his other hand from around his back.

“I knew gunpowder would brake it, so I was trying to get it to work again,” whispered Jacob. “With these.”

Benjamin winced at his son’s words. He turned back to face Jacob. His eyes twitched at his son clutching a bundle of arrows. Benjamin felt his chilly fingers bead with sweat. The arrowheads were fashioned with keen rocks. The shafts were of a thick wood and endowed with turkey feathers as fletchings. Benjamin pointed to them with a trembling, calloused finger.

“Where…where did you find those,” he asked.

Jacob pointed to the treeline.

“Beyond that tree there,” he replied. “Hiding under a bunch of brush and leaves. I figured they were abandoned.”

Rustling leaves caused Benjamin to whip around in all directions in search of the noise.

“Put them back, Jacob, now,” he said. Benjamin took in a deep breath to relax himself. “Do as I say, please.”

Jacob cocked his head to one side.

“But father-”

Benjamin’s cheeks reddened as he shouted his interruption.

“Now, Jacob!”

His father’s bark was all Jacob needed to scurry back several steps. Jacob felt his knees trembling. His mind shuffled through attempts to recollect exactly where he found the arrows. His thoughts were dashed as a shriek pierced the veil of night. Jacob spun back to find his father scanning the ridgline.

“Father, what was that,” he asked.

At first, Benjamin didn’t respond. The high-pitched voice cried out again. Sweat beaded his brow. Several coughs followed the outcry down the ridge. His body numbed. Benjamin felt his knees wanting to buckle.

“They have your sister!” Benjamin pointed to the covered wagon. “Jacob, get to the buggy!”

Jacob wasted no time listening to his father. He dashed after the wagon. Every step kicked up dust. Benjamin followed behind his son, double-checking over his shoulder for anyone chasing them. By the time he leapt onto the wagon, Jacob already grasped for the reigns.

“Take the rifle, and keep it steady. Ya’ hear,” Benjamin asked.

Jacob sat in stunned silence. His pail cheeks signaled Benjamin to swipe the reigns from his thin hands.

A snap of the leather straps brought the horses to life. Their neighing alerted to thundering hooves. The two stallions whipped around the tree line and down a beaten path.

Thin birch trees splintered under the pressure of the wagon’s impact. The horse’s neighed in protest once more. Benjamin snapped the reigns again. The frightened beasts answered with a quickened pace.

“Father!”

Jacob pointed to two horse men on a parallel trail to their left. Dust kicked up behind their mounts to gain a lead in front of Benjamin’s wagon. Jacob felt his father pull on his shoulder to guide his vision. His father’s calloused finger pointed to the closest of the horsemen.

“Aim for the rider,” he shouted. “Do your best not to hit either horse!”

Jacob’s hand trembled. The musket rattled in his clammy grip.

“B-but father, what about last time,” he asked. “Grandfather’s rifle?”

Benjamin’s anger boiled in his cheeks. Spit flew from his mouth as he shouted at his son.

“These men have y’er sister! I need you to put aside y’er fear. Can ya’ do that for me? For your sister?”

Jacob swallowed his fear against the pins and needles in his throat. His knuckles whitened around the musket. He nodded his head, then rested the rifle into the soft flesh of his shoulder.

A cloud of gunpowder blinded Jacob from his target. The musket’s stock drove into his shoulder. Jacob lost his breath to his back slamming down on the wagon’s seat. His eyes stung as he fought to see through the veil. The wagon took a sharp turn to his left, throwing Jacob into his father.

“Argh, Jacob, you need to aim!”

Jacob narrowed his burning vision on two blurry mounted horses. His father pulled further to their left. A snap of the reigns encouraged his horses to run through any pain they felt.

“Like this!”

Benjamin reached behind his seat. He unstrapped a leather brace to draw a long-barreled pistol. Made with a long, silver barrel and an ivory stock, his father never let it far from his sight. Jacob remembered it being Belgian, but nothing else. No thoughts could rise above his heart pounding in his ears.

Jacob’s father aimed the pistol at the nearest horseman. He held his exhale, and fired. Another cloud erupted around them. A man screamed through the darkness. His voice cracked. When Jacob peered around his father, he found one of the horsemen slumped over. That’s when Jacob’s father handed him the reigns.

“Take these!”

Jacob reeled away from the leather straps.

“Father, I-”

Benjamin took his son by his collar and forced the reigns into his hands.

“They’re aimin’ for the mountain trail,” Benjamin said. “Cut through the forest! The way we rode in on, ya’ hear? I need ya’ boy!”

Jacob blinked through the swelling in his eyes and took the reigns. He nodded to his father.

“For Amber,” he said through a crackling voice.

Jacob’s father returned the nod. A glance to the side sunk Benjamin’s features and paled his cheeks. He turned his back to his son.

“I’ll see you on the far side of the ridge, my boy!”

Benjamin looked back for the horse they were closing in on. Jacob never took his eyes off the creature, slowing with its limp rider still mounted.

“Closer, son!”

Fear choked Jacob out of speaking. Instead, he thought back to his sick sister, and how these people have her. An anger tightened his grip around the reigns. He gnashed his teeth together. Jacob tugged to the right with all his might. The wagon rattled behind the horses pulling it across the rocky trail.

Benjamin leapt forward. He slammed onto the back end of the horse. It sneered and charged faster. Benjamin held onto the saddle with one hand, and the limp man with his other. Jacob watched his father hurl the man over the horse’s far side. His body rolled through clouds of dust. His arms twirled in the air until he tumbled out of sight. Jacob looked back up to find his father properly mounted on the horse. He looked back at Jacob and pointed to his left.

Jacob turned ahead to find the road splitting. To his right, the rocks took shape and guided desperate travelers across a narrow ridge. To his left, the trail lowered into the valley road. More commonly traveled, Jacob saw why he was told to go left. Raw nerves ate at his stomach. He swallowed hard. He knew now wasn’t the time to disobey his father. Jacob snapped his reigns to the left, guiding the horses out of Benjamin’s sight.

Benjamin watched his son descend into the valley. As clouds of smoke trailed behind Jacob, Benjamin focused onto the carriage ahead. His narrowed, almond eyes caught sight of a small shadow sitting behind the buggy driver’s chair.

“I’m coming Amber!”

Tears streaked down Benjamin’s cheeks. The cooling air stiffened his muscles as gusts of wind rose up to meet him. Benjamin slapped the back-end of his horse.

“C’mon ya’ beast,” he shouted. “Bring me to that wagon!”

The horse thundered across the rocky road. Benjamin never took his eyes off of the wagon swaying with each turn. A sharp left turn threw it onto its right wheels. Benjamin found the bend in the road and pulled his horse toward the gap.

“Make the jump, ya’ filthy beast!”

The gray mount took three hard galloping strides before lunging off the stone ledge. Benjamin white-knuckled his leather saddled as the cool air guided his chestnut hair. His tears streaked back to his ears. Benjamin looked down to see a small trail of smoke kicking up in the valley’s trail. The thought of Jacob warmed Benjamin’s chest. He wanted to apologize to his son for shouting. An anger replaced the warmth, tensing every muscle in his chest.

The flexed position helped absorb most of the impact as the horse found the far-side of the gap. Three hooves clacked onto the rocky road. Benjamin threw himself forward to counter their horse’s misstep. A snap of the reigns threw the horse back into a sprint. Rattling wood rumbled in Benjamin’s ear. He looked up to find the wagon getting closer. Benjamin snapped the reigns a final time.

“Stay still! I need you to stay still!”

Benjamin placed a foot on the lower neck of his horse, while his other boot found his saddle. He stayed crouched until he knew he could make the leap. He pushed off the horse with every muscle in his legs.

A cool breeze pushed against his back. His arms stretched out for the back-end of the wagon. Benjamin’s calloused fingers found a wooden shelf, and latched onto it. His feet kicked and dragged against the dirt and rocks. Benjamin looked down to see the road beneath him. He peered back up and over the wooden board his fingers clung onto. All he could focus on was a large man, in furs, driving the wagon.

Benjamin fought against the pangs in his shins as he pulled his feet under him. He leaned back on his heels to stand upright. Dirt sputtered into clouds behind his heels.

“Papa!”

Benjamin heard the young, soft voice cry out. He looked up to find his daughter. Pale cheeks, and her nightgown stained in vomit. She pointed up to find the large man aiming a pistol. Benjamin ducked. Splinters erupted between his hands. Thin wooden pieces peppered his face.

Benjamin peered back up. His vision was disrupted by a sharp left turn. He leaned into it. The wagon jolted back and forth, lobbying for his release. Its wheels rumbled in a desperate attempt to remain in place. Benjamin felt a rhythm in the motions. He threw himself into a hard turn.

Another sharp turn hurled Benjamin over the back end of the wagon. He landed on in the wagon on the tip of his shoulder. Benjamin sprawled out on his hands and knees. A scent of vomit plugged his nose. He looked up to find a little girl, bound at the wrists and ankles.

“Amber!

“She’s mine! I need her!”

Benjamin had never heard the voice before, but felt hate travel from his ears to his thoughts. His hand reached for the nearest loose item near him. A box of ammo rattled near his ankle. Benjamin wrapped his long fingers around it the wooden box. Heavy in his palm, Benjamin already had a plan.

He hurled the box at the driver. The large man turned his head in time to notice the box spiraling at him. Loose bullets popped out in all directions. The driver ducked. As he picked his head back up, Benjamin had scrambled behind him. A stiff fist met the driver’s jaw. His teeth clacked together.

Benjamin hurled a second fist beneath the temple of the man’s head. The driver drove his elbow back. He leaned back to find Benjamin’s gut. Benjamin’s knees buckled. He fell over onto the man. Benjamin’s arms coiled around the man’s face, muffling his words.

Every breath came shallow to Benjamin’s lungs. His peripheral dimmed with each failed breath. A gust twirling down from the mountain struck the side of the carriage. Its momentum filled Benjamin’s lungs. He leaned back and forth to disorient the still-blinded man.

Benjamin planted one foot down and torqued his hips. His flexed arms guided the man’s head to the edge of the seat. Benjamin released the driver at the apex of his throw. Momentum hurled the driver off his seat and onto the dirt road. A cloud of dirt coughed up alongside them. Benjamin looked back to see a spiraling body slow to a stop on the stone ground. Splatters of blood marks his landing points.

“Papa!”

Benjamin spun back around to see only sky and tops of trees. He no longer saw the horses. His only thoughts were of Amber. Benjamin dropped down and clutched his daughter. He held her tight and tucked himself into a corner of the wagon.

“Hang on to me!”

Benjamin tucked his head beneath his shoulder as he stretched out to cover Amber’s head with his arm. A shift in speed plummeted their stomachs to the wagon floor. Benjamin wished to lose his meals, but resisted at the thought of it being all over Amber.

A shake dropped the wagon. Wood cracked and snapped in all directions. Benjamin’s teeth jarred together, spinning his vision. The canvas ripped and tattered as pine and bare trees clawed exposed them. The ground shook twice, giving a loud neigh as something heavy flew over head and crashed behind them.

Benjamin opened his eyes to the battered wagon. The cold air snapped his hair in all directions. He never released Amber as he peered over his shoulder to look ahead. His first and only sight came as a stone growing larger by the second. Its jagged appearance tested Benjamin’s strength in the wagon. He clutched his daughter tighter and braced for impact.

The wagon collided with the granite protrusion. Benjamin felt himself get flung from the wagon. His shoulders ached and popped, but never released Amber. Her small body curled into his through the air. A lightness carried him further into the air.

Benjamin plummeted back to Earth with his back landing first. Momentum spiraled him through the air three more times until he found the ground once more. The impact on his side stunned Benjamin. He released Amber, who tumbled into the dirt. Benjamin followed, but stopped several steps before her.

A steady heel-toe pattern woke Benjamin. His blurry vision spun the night sky. The boots didn’t stop. They were getting closer. Benjamin fought to remember where he was. He propped himself up with his arm locked out behind him. But a deep breath spun his vision again.

When Benjamin caught himself with his other hand, he looked up to see a girl in a nightgown.

“Amber?”

Her name returned Benjamin’s focus. He remembered where they were and why he was in so much pain.

“My apologies,” came a deep voice.

Benjamin felt a chill crawl down his spine. The cocking of a pistol stiffened his ears. He turned around in a steady and slow manner. His eyes gazed up at the barrel of a pistol aimed for him. Tears swelled in his eyes. He cleared his throat to fight back against the fear choking him.

He followed up the firearm. His muscles stretched the leather surrounding his arms. Past the man’s shoulder, he followed up a neck with veins bulging at its base. Covered by a leather hood, he gave no hint to his features. Benjamin had forgotten about the second horseman until he looked upon the tall man.

“W-why are you doing this,” he asked.

The man shook his head. A cloud puffed out from beneath the hood. His pistol trembled in his hands.

“I dun’ wanna to do this, ya’ know.” The stranger spoke in a deep voice. “But d’em natives said if my friends and I got a child for d’em, they’d give us safe passage back ‘ome. Up nort’. My apologies for needin’ to do this.”

Benjamin shook his head. His mind raced for anything he might be able to say that could convince the man to stay his hand. Fear choked him. As his mind scrambled for what to say, the man rose his pistol. Benjamin looked up at the man to find him looking back. He leaned to one side, avoiding the firearm’s immediate direction, to see a cloud of dirt from the trail. It closed in and made a bend in. Benjamin heard the man gasp.

“It can’t be. I thought I ran him off the road.”

Benjamin felt his strength returning. He leaned more to the side to get a better look. Through the trees came a buggy, guided by a familiar black and chestnut horse. Benjamin smiled as Jacob came into sight. He looked back to Amber, still, but breathing. Benjamin looked to Jacob to gauge his distance.

When Benjamin looked back at his son, he noticed a long barrel pointing forward. He narrowed his vision to see a rifle in his son’s hands. Canvas had been strapped to its side, creating an airbag where its hammer and flint once rested. Benjamin looked back at his assassin, still focused on Jacob. He took the opportunity.

Benjamin snapped his arm upward, finding the pistol’s barrel. He turned it away from he and Amber. The man looked back down at Benjamin.

“You’re not leaving here! I’ll take them both!”

Benjamin kept one hand on the firearm. The other lunged for the man’s collar. He held the man still, resisting his struggle to step away. The man thrashed for freedom, but Benjamin did not yield. The man grunted and groaned in defiance.

“What are you doing?”

Benjamin spoke through gnashed teeth. A pointed smile broke through his scowl.

“Helping my son aim.”

The man flailed as Benjamin’s words sunk in. He tugged and pulled but to no avail. Benjamin peered around the man in time to see Jacob pull the trigger of his customized rifle. The canvas airbag shriveled, launching a fletchless arrow through the air.

Jacob’s arrow sliced through the man’s neck. The man’s pistol fired, sending up a cloud of smoke. Dust puffed into the air, marking the bullet’s earthen landing. A man’s gasping and wheezing for air broke over Jacob’s fading horses and wagon.

Benjamin felt the man’s resistance fading. He stood up and pushed the man away from him. A limp body smashed against rock. Bone cracked with its impact. Benjamin stepped out of the cloud of gunpowder to see his wagon pulled over, not far down the trail. A small shadow came rushing toward him. Benjamin scanned the surrounding area. His heart still thumped in his ears.

“Amber, are you alright?”

Jacob’s voice broke through the still, night air. Benjamin scoured for their two little outlines in the darkness. The moonlight broke out from passing clouds to reveal Jacob unraveling Amber’s bonds.

“I…I think I am,” came a weak voice. “I’m so thirsty.”

Benjamin walked up to his kids and placed an arm around them both.

“Are you sure you’re alright Amber,” he asked.

Benjamin’s eyes made out Amber giving a slight nod.

“Mostly. My wrist hurts more than anything,” she replied.

“Father,” Jacob sunk his head low. He didn’t have the courage to look Benjamin in the eye.

“What is it Jacob,” Benjamin asked.

“What do we do now,” he asked.

Benjamin placed a firm hand on his son’s shoulder. His other hand motioned to Jacob’s rifle. It was only at that moment, Benjamin realized it was his father’s old rifle held together with straps of leather.

“How did you make a rifle fire one of them native’s arrows,” he asked his son.

Jacob shrugged. He examined the gun from its stock to the tip of the barrel. A deep breath puffed out a sigh.

“I don’t know, father. I just knew that if I didn’t think of something, I’d lose you both.”

Benjamin felt a smile tightening his cheeks.

“Saving your family rallied you to make this,” Benjamin asked.

Jacob shook his head.

“Being a family, father.”

Benjamin felt tears swell in his eyes. He placed both hands on Jacob’s shoulders.

“Then, that’s how we’ll do this. We’ll get out of here by working together. As a family should.”

END

Thank you so much for reading my story! If you liked this story, please ‘Clap’ it and follow me! Don’t forget to check out my other steampunk story ‘Blinding Revenge,’ which is also on Medium. Or my steampunk/erotica series here on Amazon.

Kyle Newton is an author from the White Mountains of New England and is Mount Washington Cog Railway’s current, two-time ‘Steampunk Author of the Year,” as well as a #3 daily best seller on Amazon for his Steampunk/Alt-History, ‘Revolution’s Reign.”