Issue 14 YEAR THREE OCTOBER Author: Lonni Holland

HAWKEYE Armed with a high-tech arsenal and the surpassing skill to use it, Clint Barton dons the familiar purple costume and fires justice from his bow.

The Good Old Days (Part Three)

cover art by Kevin Newburn

In the old west Hawkeye, the Two Gun Kid and the Rawhide Kid are pursuing a group of villains armed with some of Kang's technology. On the way to the intended target, the President of the United States, they take a break from their hard trip and hear some rather odd gossip about the President, too. Our story opens on the proverbial 'morning after the night before'.

Mornings of extreme pain were becoming a habit for me lately. I woke up with my head pounding, my stomach churning and my mouth tasting like something had died in it probably about three days ago. I was lying on my stomach and sure wasn't ready to turn over and face the world just yet. My body was slowly becoming reconnected to my brain and, as I became aware of each part of it, I realized just how very hung over I was.

I ran through the checklist:

Head.. there, and throbbing

Neck... stiff as a poker

Arms and hands... there, left hand resting on something soft and round and

oh... my... God!!!!

I leapt to my feet as I realized that it was a woman's naked breast I had my hand resting on. Jumping up that fast was a bad idea, my head spun, my stomach flip-flopped, and I knew I was gonna puke, right then. Emily, lying on the bed, opened her eyes and saw the panic in my face. She sprang to her feet and whipped open the window that lead out to the back alley, grabbed my arm and dragged me towards it. She was naked, and that made me remember what I had done and what I had said last night and just made me feel even sicker.

I leaned out the window and looked down onto a back alley, which, from the sight and smell, had obviously been used for this purpose by many others, in the past and recently too. That did it. My guts lurched, I bent forward and lost every meal I'd had in at least a week, and even a couple I had only thought about.

I laid against the windowsill, breathing heavily, sweat running down my body. Emily pulled me back into the room and forced a drink of water to my lips. I wasn't sure if my stomach would keep it down but it got some of the taste out of my mouth at least. She led me back to the bed and got me sitting on the edge of it, shaky as I was. Lord, what was I going to say to her? I opened my mouth but she stopped me.

"Before you even start, don't think you're the first drunken cowpoke to offer to marry me and take me away from all this." I guess my face gave me away because she frowned. "Don't you be feeling sorry for me either. I enjoy my work; I get well paid, and in another four or five years I'll be able to afford to move back east, and live in comfort where no one will know my past. I might even go up to Iowa, I have cousins there that would like me to stay with them."

"Uhhh..." Well, she didn't want chivalry, and she didn't want to marry me, thank God. Iowa? Oh Lord, she might even be one of my ancestors. That's it, I was never gonna drink again... well maybe not never, but I'd make sure I stopped, especially when I didn't know what I was drinking or how strong it was. "Look I didn't mean to..."

She laughed, tossed me my clothes and started to dress herself. "Clint, you don't have to explain anything, You were tired, you had a lot to drink, and I have the feeling that you don't drink often." I was going to deny that, but decided I'd better just leave well enough alone. She continued, "So, I bet you're already married anyway."

I shook my head. "No, I was. I'm widowed."

Now it was her turn to be embarrassed. "Oh Clint, I'm so sorry. I had no idea..."

"Hey, we both made assumptions about each other, let's just forget it, okay?" I was still pretty hung over and didn't feel up to a long 'I'm okay, you're okay' session. I'd made a fool of myself and now I just wanted to find Matt and Johnny and hopefully salvage something out of a day that had started really badly. Besides I had no idea what I should be saying to her anyway.

We headed downstairs, an uncomfortable distance between us. Rawhide was already there sitting down to breakfast. The smell of eggs fried in bacon grease wrenched at my guts again so I just snagged a cup of coffee and tried to ignore it. He looked disgustingly chipper and that made me feel worse but then I saw Matt staggering down the stairs and decided that he looked even lousier than I felt, so I guess it wasn't that bad after all.

Johnny cheerfully packed away a big meal while Matt and I glared at him and drank coffee, both of us trying not to slurp it loudly enough to abuse our splitting heads. The girls had deserted us totally. When we were just about ready to go Josh came over to see us.

"Look, I know you're heading up to Winslow, so how about delivering this letter to President Hayes, if he really is President Hayes."

Oh brother, he was back on that kick again. I wasn't up to arguing so I just agreed, took the letter and stuck it in my pocket and we got ready to go. The guys went up to grab our bedrolls and saddlebags. I was going to get the horses and pay off the livery stable. I looked at the kid, decided I trusted him, even if he was a bit goofy, so I pulled him off to the side and pressed some cash in his hand. "Josh, do me a favor. Make sure Emily gets this. I tried to give it to her last night but she wouldn't take it, and I'd really like her to have it." He nodded solemnly and put it away.

I got up and went to find Emily. I still felt a bit awkward about speaking to her but I owed her the courtesy of a good-bye at least. She was standing outside, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders against the early morning breeze, wisps of blonde hair playing across her face. I took stock of my emotions and realized that she was right, I hadn't felt anything for her except mild affection and booze induced romanticism that was likely just pity, maybe tinged with a fair bit of drunken lust.

I touched her shoulder and she turned around to face me, a kind of wistful smile on her face. I guess there really wasn't much to say so I just held her for a minute, kissed her cheek and then left. As I headed for the stables I glanced back and she was still standing there, watching me, and smiling sadly.

We were pretty quiet on the trail. Neither Matt nor I felt up to much conversation and Johnny just grinned at us a few times and kept his mouth shut. Wise man, that Rawhide Kid, a guy lives longer that way. The miles melted away and my head gradually felt normal again, or close to it anyway. We had gotten pretty near to Winslow now, and the trail passed into a natural corridor between a couple of thirty foot rock faces. It looked like a pretty good place to set a little trap of our own for Iron Mask's band. Rawhide had backtracked a bit earlier and figured they'd be along in about an hour or two so we got busy.

Soon we were set up and waiting for them. Rawhide and I had staying there to get things ready. Matt, well known as a respected lawyer, had ridden on into town to try to alert the authorities but he expected to be back before the action started. While we waited for him we got down and dirty, setting up piles of loose rock and debris at the tops of the cliffs to block the trail with, and scouting out the best vantage points to pick them off. We knew we wouldn't have a lot of time, and if we couldn't disable that machinery they had then we could end up just as bad off as in our previous confrontation. Well, I may not be that smart but I usually learn from experience, especially when experience hurts a lot.

When Two Gun came back we got into place on the tops of the cliffs. There was dust in the distance so we knew that someone was approaching and it was likely our quarry. Matt & I were on one cliff, Johnny was on the other. Matt hadn't had much luck in town so it was up to us where we were. As soon as the bad guys were in position we'd be able to block their passage. We waited.

As I lay there on my belly on the hard rock I found my mind wandering a bit, both to the events of the last few days and back to my own team, or maybe I should say forward, in time at least. Even though I had been here before, the old west sure wasn't living up to my recollections. It was hot and dry and dusty; riding all day in a hard saddle wasn't nearly as comfortable as zipping over the Los Angeles skyline on a skycycle or flying across the country in a air conditioned Quinjet. The Kids weren't quite how I remembered them either. Sure Matt and I had picked up a few gals and had a few laughs when he came back with me to my time but this was his turf and I guess I had been expecting the same squeaky clean image that I was used to from those dime novels I read as a kid, not two adult men who did what adult men are prone to do, especially if they have a few drinks and some pretty, willing girls. That reminded me of Emily and how badly I had botched that, so I let my thoughts go elsewhere.

I wondered how the Whackos were doing. I had left Jack in charge and he wouldn't let me down. I knew he'd do me proud, he was the type who would never let anything happen to besmirch the Avenger name. I worried a bit about Simon, he was so remote and I just couldn't seem to get through to him. On the other hand I had to smile when I thought of Sam. Cannonball was just what the team needed, lots of power and a good healthy outlook, with no attitude to deal with. Tigra seemed to like him too, of course Tigra liked everyone. I still wanted to beef the team up a bit and wondered if Pietro had returned my call. * We'd worked together many times, although he'd never been there with me as chairman. Ah well, Quickie was a good man, he'd adjust just fine.

* see AWC 108

A poke in the ribs brought me out of my reverie. Matt whispered, "Better wake up from that catnap, Hawk, we've got company,"

I was gonna tell him I hadn't been napping but my attention was drawn to the riders and wagon that were just passing between the two walls of rock. I scrambled up to my knees and made sure that Rawhide was watching too. He waved quickly and started to push at a few rocks. I held my hand up to restrain him. We knew what we had to do. When they were in precisely the right spot I dropped my hand and both the Kids started the rock slides. In minutes we had them penned in. As Matt and Johnny started shooting at them I let fly with a cable arrow and slid down to the ground. I needed to be able to draw a bead on that blasted machine of Iron Mask's.

I hit the ground and rolled back a bit to get the right range. There were shots firing all around me but most of them were directed upwards to where Two Gun and Rawhide were carefully picking off our opponents. I snapped off a couple of blast arrows just to keep everyone off balance and then started to get ready to take out the machine.

I really needed Iron Mask to turn it on for my EMP arrow to be most effective. I saw him start to fiddle with the controls and I got ready. Then the unthinkable happened. More rock started to slip from the top of the cliff and Matt came sliding down with them. I saw Johnny start to skid down his side of the cliff, picking a trail wherever he could, trying to get at ground level to help out. I switched arrows fast to keep the yahoos away from Two Gun who was now lying on the ground looking pretty battered.

Iron Mask took advantage of the situation to keep messing with the controls of the machine and holler at any of his men who were still standing. He was trying to direct them to clear away some of the rocks so they could escape. I had almost reached Matt when I saw a shadow rising up from behind me. I glanced back and saw a rattlesnake, but it was already over twenty feet long and still growing and slithering towards us. Damn it, we had been maneuvered into facing another mutated desert creature, and this time one of us was already down for the count. I could see venom dripping from its fangs and hoped Hank had packed some antidote in my med kit, just in case. I tried to drag Matt away but then I felt the snake start to coil around me. Shit, I didn't know that rattlers would try to constrict. Maybe it was just holding me in position so it could strike.

Rawhide dove at the snake's neck to divert its attention from me. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Iron Mask dragging one of the machines off the wagon and onto a horse and taking off. Matt was pinned under the snake's tail and it was thrashing its head, trying to dislodge Johnny. I was having a lot of trouble breathing because it had me gripped pretty tightly but I managed to wriggle my arms free and that helped. I still had my bow and I hoped it hadn't been damaged as I reached for the one arrow that I figured would help.

Ignore the pain, ignore the dizziness, the burning in your chest, the almost frantic need to gasp for breath, ignore Matt, ignore Johnny; there is only you... and the bow... and the arrow... and the target. The shot had to be perfect, and I never miss. I channeled my concentration on nothing else, then there was only the target. I drew back, sighted one last time and felt the arrow release from my fingers as blackness flickered into the sides of my vision. I suppose I fainted about then.

I came around with Rawhide shoving me up on my horse. I wasn't quite sure what had happened. He had Matt slung across the back of his mount and as soon as he realized I was alert enough to hang onto the pommel horn he leapt on his own and lead the horses away, fast. I turned my head and vaguely saw the snake slumped in a torpid heap, its eyes barely open. It seemed to be shrinking back to normal size too.

"What the heck did you do to that varmint, Hawk?" Johnny pushed his hat back and grinned at me, his freckles making him appear younger and more befuddled. He made good use of his good ol' boy look to let his enemies underestimate him at times. "Now I ain't complainin' mind you, but I thought we was goners, then that ol' sidewinder just folded up and quit."

I took a couple of deep breaths, made sure I could talk without sounding too incoherent, and answered. "Yeah, well it was a freeze arrow. I figured that snakes are cold blooded and they hibernate when the temperature falls so I thought it'd stop him. I guess it worked." I glanced at the other horse. "Is Two Gun hurt bad? He fell quite a ways."

"I don't rightly know what you're talkin' about but I reckon it did work." He shrugged. "Matt looks a bit bruised but I figure he'll be okay when he comes to. How are you doin'? And where should we be headin' anyway?"

I took mental inventory. "I'm pretty good, a little sore but I've been worse, and recently too. We better be heading for Winslow, that's where they'll be going and the President is due there soon, if he isn't there already. We'll just have to try again and hope it's third time lucky."

We rode into Winslow but there was no sign of Iron Mask, the Fat Man or Red Raven. There were a few mangy looking characters hanging around but when I spotted my own reflection in a window I realized that I likely looked even worse. From all the hoopla and bunting that was all over we figured the President had arrived so we asked someone then headed straight for the hotel where the he was staying. Matt had tried to warn these guys but had been brushed away. He likely hadn't been firm enough so I figured I'd take a shot at it. I headed in and demanded to speak to the head man.

We waited in the lobby while there was some shuffling around, then finally a sort of stocky looking guy came out. He was a bit shorter than me, had a full beard and reddish hair and for some perverse reason he reminded me of Gyrich, but I decided not to hold it against him. He introduced himself as Agent Nevins, head of the President's Secret Service. Hmph, some secret when he admitted who he was to everyone and he looked way too out of shape to be any kind of a decent guard.

I explained what had been happening in no uncertain terms, and told him he'd better get cracking and beef up security. He just laughed at me. I was too damned tired to put up with that for long so I grabbed at his arm as I tried to get it past the red tape and through his thick head that the President was in danger. Seconds later I was bent over with a perfect view of the ground, my arm pulled back behind me and my hand twisted up almost to the top of my head. Man, it hurt!

"Okay, rainey, you gonna settle down now?"

"Yeah... sure... anything... you want." He was a lot stronger than he looked. My arm was contorted so far I could feel the muscles stretching and tears running down my face. He gave it one last yank then let go. Bastard! I stood upright rubbing at my aching shoulder and considering whether or not I should belt him when Matt took over.

He calmly explained it to Nevins again, even showed him some of the bruises he had accumulated in our last outing. The stuffed shirt almost looked like he believed it, even though he kept flashing me dirty looks, when there was a flurry of activity behind us. The President was coming down the stairs and everyone was hustling to get the bystanders out of the way.

As we got shoved back into the street I saw some men riding hard into town. Blast, it was Iron Mask and he had the machine balanced in his lap and his men were driving some pretty big steers in front of them. I hated to think what mutated steers would do to the President, hell to the whole town. I ran out into the street and fired an EMP arrow just as Iron Mask aimed his little toy at the herd that was bearing down on me. I saw the smoke and flickers of flame shooting from the machine as Rawhide tackled me and knocked me out of the way of the lead steer.

The cattle raced past. Iron Mask's men started to turn tail and run but some of the Secret Service guys headed them off and corralled them a ways down the street. I scrambled up and was dusting myself off when the President appeared on the steps of the hotel. He strode forward to where we were standing. I figured he was gonna thank us. Boy was I wrong.

'That's them, they are the ones I told you about." I had no idea what he was talking about but a bunch of his guards grabbed us. "They tried to kill me. They are behind the plot against me. Where is the circuit judge? If he isn't here then I'll supervise the trial myself. I am your Commander in Chief after all. I want these men convicted now!"

He had to be joking! Johnny, Matt and I all tried to speak up but we were bound and dragged to the jail in a matter of minutes, and pretty roughly too. I'd heard of mix-ups before but this was ridiculous. I was an Avenger for heaven's sake. Of course, on reflection, I realized pretty fast that wasn't going to cut me much slack in the here and now.

A few hours later we were still in a jail cell. I had remembered the letter that Josh had given me and had convinced one of the deputies to at least take it to the hotel, hoping that the President might come to his senses after seeing it. It was a forlorn hope, but it was all we had. There was no one on the outside that was going to come and rescue us. Then we just waited, and waited. Finally the sheriff came in with a few of the President's men. They opened the jail cell. About bloody time this mess got straightened out.

We were lead out into the street, but they had taken the precaution of tying our hands behind our backs first. We were hustled towards a hastily constructed podium in front of the hotel. Moments later President Hayes appeared, flanked by dozens of men, but I did notice that his chief geek, Nevins was conspicuous in his absence. Hayes started to speak.

"These men have committed the ultimate crime. They stand accused and convicted of plotting to kill the President of these fine United States, of treason in it's most insidious form. I sentence them to hang by the neck until dead. Sentence to be carried out immediately. Take them." He turned and left.

As we were dragged down the street I objected. "Tried? Convicted? There was no trial. This is a joke right?"

One of the deputies muttered, "Oh, there was a trial all right. The President gave all the evidence, presided, convicted and sentenced you. You guys musta really rubbed him the wrong way."

I tried to protest that it was unconstitutional to have a trial that way, that the accused had a right to defend themselves, that the accuser couldn't be the judge or jury either. All it got me was a hard smack in the mouth. I spat out some blood and prodded a loose tooth with my tongue. Two Gun and Rawhide faired no better when they spoke up. We were hauled to a gallows that was just on the outskirts of town.

I was pushed up the steps, still asserting our innocence. The only response I got was "Ya wanna blindfold, big man?" I shook my head.

This just couldn't be happening. He slipped the noose over my head. I felt the rough hemp cutting into my skin as he tightened it. My disbelief started to fade, replaced by cold hard fear. I'd faced death lots of times but this was different. I felt my guts turn to ice, heard the lever move, felt the trapdoor beneath my feet open, myself start to fall, the rope cutting into the cords of my neck....

"Oh, shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!!!!!!!!"

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

And that's another fine mess he's gotten himself into. Next issue, a few surprise guest stars appear, hopefully in time to rescue Hawkeye. And we'll unravel the mystery of President Hayes action as well, otherwise I may have to rewrite a lot of history books. The Good Old Days concludes next month.

Check out the World Without arc in AWC (starting in issue 109) to see what Clint has to come back to. Hmmm, perhaps he should stay in the old west.

I have gotten so much feedback on this series, I am obviously going to have to start a letter column next month. Writing Hawkeye is a dream for me. This is the character that got me back into comics after a very long hiatus. I have a very clear definition of his personality in my head. I can't believe how many people think that my interpretation of the Hawkster is on target. Of course hanging around this guy I guess I should never miss, right? Thanks to everyone for the support.

Lonni Holland
April 4, 1999

lonni@paratime.ca