Chapter 7

"I'm going to kill that old man," thought Dusty as he groaned painfully and rolled over.

When he came to, he found himself face down in a field of grass.

He looked around, and he could see what looked to be a dirt road to his right and trees off in the distance.

As he stood up he realized that it looked like he was no longer in the city of Indianapolis anymore. He couldn't see anything like skyscrapers or building in general. All he could see was a big open field with a tree line off into the distance.

He looked around but couldn't decide on which way to go. But he did notice that he saw smoke way off. He decided that was as good a direction to go as anywhere.

He was sure that the old man tricked him and either had him dropped outside the city or maybe somewhere heavily forested like the Conner Prairie S ettlement Park in Indianapolis.

What was strange was that he wasn't robbed. He still had all his money, his clothes, car keys, iPhone, everything.

But as he walked up the road, nothing looked familiar. He had been to a lot of forested areas outside the city growing up but nothing looked right to him.

He tried to use his phone but could see it said he was outside of a service area. Strange why couldn't he get a signal in the city? The GPS in his phone wasn't finding any satellites either.

As he got closer to the smoke he noticed it came from what looked to be a "dirt" brick and stone house with straw on the roof. The straw was layered on top of itself and looked like a giant broom lying on top of the house.

As he looked up the road he saw more and more the houses similarly styled in close proximity, but not close enough as to be on top of each other. But he could see a cluster of buildings further up the road.

But one thing he noticed off the bat quick was that some of the items in the road weren't clumps of dirt as he first thought. He almost stepped into quite a few "cow pies" as he got closer to the houses. That would almost ruin his shoes. Ewww.

One thing he also noticed was that everyone was staring at him. He felt as if he was in the middle of a Renaissance fair. But he couldn't see any booths or signs anywhere. The people certainly weren't dressed like they were from the Conner Prairie Park. They looked more medieval than the Park actors did.

The men had some form of what looked to be a canvas shirts and a few had a form of leather vest over it, with wide leather belts holding up what looked to be thick and uncomfortable cloth or canvas pants.

Everything they were wearing was some form of brown or light brown.

As he walked further into the little town he noticed more people stopping to stare at him. Even the little kids stopped and stared. It was starting to make him feel uncomfortable.

As he continued to walk on headed towards the center of town he noticed no one was dressed like him. There didn't seem to be anything he recognized as familiar. No cars, no bicycles, nothing that he could reference. He even noticed a well in the center of the town, that people stopped drawing water from as he got near. From what he saw the water had a brownish tint to it.

As he walked through town and noticed the hush that fell over everyone he passed and he continued on to what appeared to be a tavern. The building was larger than the houses and it had two double doors swung open and against the walls. He could see men inside drinking something in metal tankards.

He decided to go in and see what was inside and maybe get some information. Usually this is where story tellers would entertain the audiences in most parks.

As he went in, the same thing happened that happened outside. Everyone got real quiet and just watched him walk around the room.

That was starting to get a little awkward and he couldn't understand why they were doing this. Even the folks at Conner Prairie didn't treat visitors to the park as if they were social outcast. He would have to speak with the manager about how the staff treated customers.

As he approached what he thought was the bar he noticed that it was two barrels and a plank of misshapen wood stretched between them. The plank was wavy and barely looked like it was balanced on the barrels well.

The bartender had been reaching behind himself filling tankards, with what looked to be dirty hands, as he reached into the barrel to dip and fill another tankard. He still had his hands in the barrel watching his approach.

As Dusty headed to the front of the room he couldn't help but notice the serving girls. The girls were certainly attractive enough, but they too were wearing the brown color everyone else was, but theirs was in the form of very short dresses.

And one or two of them had a few stains on them. But they were all wearing heeled boots and that made the short dresses way more noticeable. They all had their hair pulled back in ponytails.

"They must only recruit 18 to 25 year olds here at this park because all these women are hot," thought Dusty.

As Dusty reached the bar he noticed that the bartender never took his eyes off him.

"Excuse me what city and town am I in?" asked Dusty.

"Stranger you be in the town of Jeniper," responded the Barkeep.

"Jeniper? What state is that in? I've never heard of that in Indianapolis?" asked Dusty.

"State? What's that? Do you mean are the people happy? I guess we are as happy as can be expected I guess," replied the man

"No I mean what state in the United States are we in? Are we even still in Indiana?" asked Dusty exasperated.

"What's a Uni ... ted States or In ... di ... ana?" asked the Barkeeper.

Dusty at first thought was he was kidding him. Then he started to get a little upset. These actors were taking their roles a little more seriously than they should.

"Look I just need to get home, but to do that I first need to know where I am. So why don't you quit the fake Renaissance fair acting and tell me where I am. This is really important I need to get back," started Dusty growing angry. He was slowly starting to lose his temper.

But suddenly he was aware of some chairs scraping on the floor behind him and he turned to see about three men moving to stand in front of him.

"Stranger your speech is different and you're asking strange questions. But I have one for you, what is that strange cloak you're wearing? What is it made of?" asked one of the men reaching out to feel Dusty's coat.

"My jacket is leather, suede actually, and this stupid act is really starting to get old," said Dusty pulling back from the man.

"Well I like your jacket. So why don't you give it to me as a gift?" asked the man now smiling with a gap tooth smile.

"No I don't believe so. But you are welcome to go buy your own. And I'm getting really tired of your taking the acting of your role this far," said Dusty.

"No, I think you may want to hand it over," said the man as he produced a crude looking knife.

Dusty couldn't help but notice that the knife was a bit "larger" than he would have thought. It was sharpened metal, with a circular ring around it as a hilt, but it was set in wood.

"Buddy, you don't want to buy the trouble your mouth is offering to get you into," said Dusty slowly nodding at his knife.

"My name is not Buddy, and you have two choices you can hand over the cloak or I can take it off your dead body. I'd prefer you hand it over, I'm not sure how well your blood will wash out of it and I really would like it without holes," said the man now with a hint of malice.

"For the last time you acting reject if you don't back up off me, I'll be forced to put you down if you don't," said Dusty angrily.

He had given up trying to maintain his composure. This fool wouldn't give up the acting.

Without warning the man lunged, and before Dusty even thought it through he reacted.

First he grabbed the arm with his left hand as he turned inside the man's guard so that it passed him. He kept on holding the arm, and as he was turning he drew back his right arm, and followed it up with an elbow shot right at the base of the man's throat. He didn't want to hit too high and crush it.

The man dropped the knife and started coughing and choking hard with his eyes watering. The other two men with him were shocked at first, and then they lunged at Dusty.

Dusty hit the first one with a back hand and at the same time did a front snap kick into the chin of the other one. The one with the kick flew backwards out cold. The other one was just mildly stunned. Then Dusty followed it up with a round house to the head of the one he punched and then he was out cold with his friend.

The first man was starting to get to his feet he noticed his friends flying backward to the ground now out cold close by him.

"You will pay for that stranger," he growled as he lunged low for Dusty. Apparently intent on grabbing Dusty around the waist with a tackle.

Dusty didn't even move and as the man got close he snapped his knee up in a jumping knee strike to the man's face and hit the man under the chin, where he too flew up into the air backwards also to land on the floor out cold.

Dusty looked around and made sure that no one else was going to attack him and turned back to the bartender.

"So is this part of the show? Why are you people even attacking the customers? Those guys were actually trying to hurt me," Dusty said slowly in shock. He had been in enough fights to recognize intent to kill when he saw it.

"Stranger what are you talking about? What show? Bill there is the leader of a tough gang of men and is always terrorizing those who don't do what he says. How are you able to do that with your hands and feet?" asked the Bartender with wide eyes.

"I've been doing this for years, its like second nature," said Dusty slowly as he watched the Bartender. He seemed truly amazed he thought.

"Hasn't he ever seen a real fight before?" thought Dusty.

"If you're not going to help me can you at least give me change for a dollar and point me to your payphone?" asked Dusty.

"Stranger what is a dollar and a payphone?" asked the barkeep now with wide eyes. This stranger just put down three very tough men and not only wasn't he sweating he wasn't even breathing hard. He seemed to not even be phased by what he just did. But he kept saying the strangest things.

"Sigh Where is the manager I don't have time for this," said Dusty tiredly.

"I own this Inn, but I still can't help you," said the barkeeper.

Dusty screamed out in frustration and headed out of the bar back down the road the way he came.