| “ | The Lord has made me his right hand; his judge, his jury, and his executioner. So Billy, beware boy, for I bring the wrath of God.
— Ray McCall
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” |
Ray McCall is the protagonist of Call of Juarez and its prequel, Call of Juarez: Bound in Blood. Initially introduced as a man with a deep love and respect of his family, McCall slowly gained a reputation for his fiery temper, his lack of mercy to those who threaten him and his brothers, and his ability to kill great numbers of soldiers with only his trusty revolvers.
In 1864, Ray and Thomas were among the Confederate soldiers defending the Chattahoochee River, under the command of Colonel Jeremy Barnsby. When he learned that the area where his brother, Thomas McCall, was stationed at was being overrun by the Union, he decided to go and save his brother. With the assistance of Thomas and their allied soldiers he succeeded in destroying the bridge the Union were using for moving its infantry. Ray and Thomas then deserted their posts to save their homes from further Union invasions. After fighting their way inside their house, their youngest brother, William, sorrowfully told them that their mother had died during the night. Ray and his brothers escaped, the former promising both to himself and his siblings they would return one day and rebuild their home. Little did they know that Colonel Barnsby, their former commanding officer, vowed to kill the McCalls for deserting them and leaving the Union to bloodily and easily invade Atlanta.
Battle vs. Edward Hogger (by Killermoves)[]
It was over. Gone were the days of blood-soaked grass and poppy fields. Gone were the heavens full of buzzards and crows. Corpses that piled up like mountains were laid. Praise the soldiers to whom freedom they owed.
Yet, even as the nation began to unite. Even as wounds healed and brotherhood mended. Anger continued to survive and fester inside men’s hearts. Anger turned to hatred. Hatred transformed into a yearning for vengeance.
The peace treaty may have been signed. Terms of surrender may have been negotiated. But these were nothing but talks of the rich and the posh. Whatever deals that were agreed upon by their commanders and generals, were nothing more than hogwash for the partisans who still wished to fight; nothing more than words that fell on deaf ears to those who still wanted to cause trouble and blood.
War was over for Ray McCall as he sat inside a cabin in the middle of the Arkansas woods. It was snowing outside, and the wooden walls of the cabin were frosty and wet. The cabin itself was lacking in furniture; only a black dirty rug, cobwebs, and rat feces inhabited the place. McCall was alone in that cabin for his brothers had went out to gather provisions for their trip West. They had to get out of the South lest their enemies, most especially one brutal Colonel Barnsby, catch up to them… and kill them.
Even as the war ended, violence never left the McCalls. They had to carve their way out of Atlanta, leaving lots of dead bluebellies in their wake. Who were they to blame? Violence ran in their veins — it was the sole thing they were good at. Bullets were their breakfast, their utensils were their guns. And everytime they ate their meals, they shat out corpses upon corpses from state to state. Furthermore, Ray McCall was the most violent of them all. Hatred fueled his violence and he hated everybody. And most of the people he hated, didn’t get to live long. The Civil War lived inside Ray McCall; it never died.
McCall was sitting the rug, cleaning his ranger pistols, when a bullet entered through the window, shattering it, and taking out a part of McCall’s right ear. The former rebel cried as he went down, clutching the right side of his head.
The shot came from outside. Deep in the trees that surrounded the cabin was a lone yankee boy in blue. His name was Edward Hogger, marksman and Union soldier. The cabin seemed to have fallen into silence, but Hogger knew that his shot was just a grazing one. That rebel was still alive… and still remained a threat.
Hogger had to journey South to hunt down this pair of brothers who became infamous for taking out a whole damn platoon of Union troops. The story itself was unbelievable. Who were these people who did such a thing? Monsters? Demons? Agents of death? Yet the reports were no gobbledy-gook. Many caskets, all draped with the American flag and widows wailing, were evidences of their atrocity.
The union marksman had to do this mission. He had to get this job done. His higher-ups promised this will be his last, and afterwards, he would finally get home.
Hogger waited. His Henry rifle may pack fifteen bullets in its tube but he could not afford to just keep on firing. He had to be careful in saving his ammo and not giving away his location.
There was no sign of Ray McCall. Hogger knew the bastard was still alive but he had to remain in his position. If the reports were true, to go out there and check if he was still alive — to actually get close to him — would be a death sentence. Rebs were also tricky beasts. Who knew what sort of traps and ambushed that man had in store in there for Hogger.
But to Hogger’s surprise, and a testament to the insanity that was Ray McCall, the rebel bursted out of the cabin with a Winchester rifle in his hand, screaming and blasting. Like a cornered bear, McCall yelled the most horrifying scream, signifying to Hogger that he was not afraid of him.
Hogger did acquiesce, and a bullet from his rifle hit McCall again, this time in the arm. But this did nothing but piss McCall off even more. The rebel saw where the shot came from, and began focusing his fire there. He also began charging at Hogger’s position, his gun blazing like it was Armageddon.
Most of McCall’s shots missed, but it was just mere inches, just enough to force Hogger into cover. The bluebelly did attempt to fire back but the pressure from McCall was just too much. And soon, the rebel became close enough to get a glimpse of Hogger’s face.
“Damn bluebelly!” McCall yelled. “I got you know you son of a bitch!”
And then the unthinkable happened. Hogger’s rifle went empty. He then drew his Colt revolver and aimed, but McCall drew his two Rangers and let out a hasty barrage. Both soldiers attempted to empty their magazines at each other. But Hogger and his pathetic pistol was no match against the rebel gunslinger. McCall’s bullets connected, hitting Hogger in the thigh, shoulder, and the hip.
Gritting in pain, Hogger discarded his pistol and threw an Excelsior grenade. McCall saw this and managed to dive away, but the grenade’s explosion made small debris like sand and pebbles rain down on him. The rebel cursed the yankee, before slowly getting up and reloading his two pistols. He then began limping deeper into the forest with a face full of death, hell, and more nasty things to come. McCall also scoffed along the way, finding it pathetic that he had to look for his opponent like he was hunting a vermin rather than a fellow human. Typical Northerner, he thought; lacking in honor and principles like them Southern gentlemen.
There was a rustling of leaves, which prompted McCall to shoot. But there was nothing. A branch broke behind him, making him turn around and fire his pistol. But only a poor rabbit, an unwitting victim in the crossfire, was hit. Gripping his pistols tightly, his nerves flaring like the Fourth of July, he yelled madly, “Come out you damn coward! Let’s end this!”
Little did McCall know that Hogger was just a few meters away, hidden in the trees, watching him fumble like a poor lost pilgrim in the snow. The yank saw a few red long cylinders strapped inside McCall’s belt, and he recognized them to be sticks of dynamite. Hogger then had a devious idea. Drawing his Colt revolving rifle, Hogger took a careful aim at McCall’s belt, and pulled the trigger.
Boom!
McCall wasn’t even given the time to scream. He probably wouldn’t even know what happened to him until he arrived in Hell for the Devil to tell him so. Nothing was left of McCall in the mortal realm besides smoke, splatters of blood, and bits of bone and meat. The victorious Hogger then took a deep breath and stood up, silently happy that he was finally getting home.
Expert's Opinion[]
Having anachronistic weapons did not help Ray McCall at all. According to the voters, Edward Hogger had a huge advantage over McCall in terms of weapons and, most importantly, training and tactics. McCall was a hothead who had no chance against the more calculating Eric. In a battle between the North and the South, the North once again, wins.