X10 (standard:adventure, 7245 words)
Author: DreamWeaver	Added: Jul 30 2003	Views/Reads: 3417/2353	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Nobody chose the lifestyle of an outlaw, the lifestyle chose them. Quite frankly, nobody ever grew to enjoy the lifestyle as they generally didn’t live long enough. Gáol and Deben however were the exception.

X-10 

Prologue 

The two figures glided down the street, idly chatting as they went. To
look at, they were very different. One was a tall slim figure with 
curly brown hair worn short, and long sideburns that were occasionally 
allowed to creep down his face and meet under his chin. Glasses 
sometimes shrouded the friendly warm eyes the face possessed, but as of 
late, they were shielded by the frown created by his course eyebrows. 
His clothes suggested he was the kind of man not to be annoyed. He wore 
black denim trousers, a black shirt and a black denim jacket that 
neatly hid the shoulder holster hidden within. The other was slightly 
smaller, and slightly better built. He too had short brown hair, but it 
was less curly than his companions. His dark eyes were piercing, and 
were presently shrouded behind thin sunglasses. He wore black combat 
trousers with plenty of pockets. They were fastened at the top and 
joined to a thick belt that had small leather pouches around its 
length. A black t-shirt covered his torso and partly covered the band 
that was worn around his neck. Atop all this was a long black coat that 
flowed behind him as he walked casually down the street, held back only 
by the rifle that rested comfortably over one shoulder and across his 
back. The barrel and scope glinted in the moonlight as the two walked 
down the street, towards a small bar at the end. 

G ol was suddenly aware of footsteps behind him, and spun to observe the
figure of a middle aged man standing in the middle of the street, legs 
shoulder width apart, silver badge glinting in the moonlight. He stood, 
not moving, his weapon drawn and aimed at G ol's head, finger on the 
trigger. Deben, suddenly curious why the conversation and his companion 
had stopped turned also to observe the character. "What is your 
business here?" "What business is it of yours to ask, you god forsaken 
son of a bitch" was the harsh, but frank response G ol gave. He was not 
a man to mince his words, and felt it his duty to speak his mind, voice 
his opinions, whatever the situation may be. It had landed him in 
trouble in the past, and right now, was looking like doing so again. To 
his credit, he had the temper and attitude to back it up, and few 
people lived long enough to speak ill of him. "You are out after 
curfew. If you do not present identification and state your business, 
you will be detained" was the response by the officer. "Here officer, 
I'll think you will find them in order" exclaimed Deben as he handed a 
bunch of papers to the officer. He stepped backwards and glanced across 
at G ol as he did so, the faint traces of a smile drawing across his 
face. He could tell that the patience of his friend was wearing thin, 
and the smile soon faded. He flicked his eyes downwards to see G ol's 
hand slip inside his jacket and grasp the moulded grip of his Eagle. 
The officer shuffled through the papers until he came to a particular 
page and froze. The colour drained from his face and his heart rate 
quickened as he slowly raised his head. "I... I... I'm s sorry sir. 
I... I didn't realise you were..." "Not to worry officer, that will be 
all," grinned Deben as he retrieved the papers from the shaking 
officers hands. With that, the officer retreated and thanked his 
blessings that he had gotten off lightly. Had he known the truth, he 
would have been in deeper trouble than he assumed he was. G ol and 
Deben watched as he made his hasty retreat down the street and round 
the corner at the bottom. 

"What the fuck was all that about?" questioned G ol in a slightly
apprehensive tone as he turned to face his friend. "Told you they would 
come in handy one day" smiled Deben. 

Deben was the complete opposite of G ol in every way. He didn't posses
G ol's fiery temper and carefree attitude. He was a thinker, a planner. 
Every move he made was carefully planned and every outcome mapped out 
in his brain. He often had to stop his friend landing himself in hot 
water, but this was made up for by the number of times G ol's sheers 
balls had saved his ass in the past. 

"You're one crafty son of a bitch, my friend," smiled G ol as he
released the grip on his Eagle and placed a hand on Deben's shoulder, 
"One crafty son of a bitch!" The pair's laughter echoed into the night 
air as the continued walking down the street and entered the small bar 
at the end. 

Chapter One 


Click here to read the rest of this story (528 more lines)