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If anyone would have ran into Nathan Rhames as he walked down the street, they wouldn't have known it. He appeared to be about 25 years older than usual, with a long, whispy white beard that came down to his chest. He walked more slowly than usual, with a slight, almost unnoticable limp. Gone was his somewhat muscular frame, exchanged for one more thinner, and slightly frail looking. His clothes were torn in various places, and none of them fit him right. He smelled five days ripe, and the few people that did pass his way quickly moved to the farthest possible part of the side walk. He could hear the various comments about "dirty, lazy bum" resounding in their minds, but it did little to phase him; his mission was important, and he was determined.
It was late afternoon; the sky was clear and the air was warm. Over the hills outside of town, a gentle breeze sang across the desert landscape. In town, Nathan crossed the street, heading over to the old abandoned train station. It had been many years since the "Gold Train" had brought anyone into Searchlight. Many years ago, the station had been vibrant with life. Miners had come by the dozens, in search of new claims and ways to get rich instantly. New families had came, with deeds to land that they planned on working. Small children had clung to the skirts of their mothers, as the train roared in and out of the station, bringing in fresh blood, and takem back tired bones.
But that had been many years ago.
Now, it stood just an empty shell, only a reminder of what had once been. As Nathan approached a shaded side of station, he started to open a brown paper sack he had been carrying with him. From the shade, another man looked up, his eyes squinting, even though he was in a shaded area. He smiled, showing dirty teeth, or gaping holes where teeth should have been. He too smelled terrible, and sported the same clothing and beard that Nathan now appeared to have.
"That you, Jim?" the bum said softly, his eyes appearing...hopeful, as they stared at the brown bag. "You come out to look after ole Red again, have ye?"
"yeah Red, it's me. It's your ole pal Jim," Nathan called in return, a smile already forming on his face as he drew closer to the man. "Red" simply stayed seated on the ground, patting a spot beside him with his hand. "Have a seat, Jim. Have a seat." he said, his eyes never leaving the bag.
Nathan felt a swell of pity for the old man, who sat here often, wishing only for something to eat, and a safe place to rest his head. Red knew of a few kind folk who had taken pity on him, and allowed him to sleep in their basement at night. It was an act of kindness that Red had not been shown very often. Nathan, who went by "Jim" in this form, sat on the ground next to Red, and pulled a sandwich out of his bag. He handed it to the hungry man, who began to devour it as though it might disappear any moment. After a few large bites had been taken, chewed, and swallowed, Red looked down at the rest of the food. "I'm sorry Jim, this is yer sandwich, you want half of it?" Red asked, placing his hands on either side to tear it in two. "Naw, I'm not hungry or nothing, you eat," *Jim* replied, resting his head against the back of the building, watching as Red smiled gratefully, and continued to inhale the sandwhich. Finally, both men sat quiet and motionless, as the sun started to fade.
Suddenly, there was a flash of lighting across the clear Eastern sky.
"Did ya see that, Jim?" Red cried, turning to look at his friend. Nathan, however, was nowhere to be found. He had vanished into thin air. Red looked all around himself, the empty brown bad the only proof that anyone had been there at all.
A few miles to the East, Nathan appeared as normal, and walked the last few steps up to his General. Micheal stood a few feet from him, but did not turn to face Nathan in greeting. Something was wrong.
( Fallen Comrade )
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