A Miner Threat

“Nathan ‘Sly’ Bowman: traveling with Outlaw Curtis ‘Dawn’ Conrad. Very interesting.”

The cozy room was lit only by a gently crackling flame nestled snuggly in the fire place embedded in the wall. A chair faced away from the fire and cast a shadow on the occupant. Her legs were crossed and she licked her fingers after having just plopped a small, round sweet into her mouth, her glossed lips pursing as she rolled the candy around in her mouth with her tongue and it clacked against her teeth.

The woman seemed to be staring at nothing, but her eyes, glazed with a slight rosy tint, were focused elsewhere. Seven of her ten fingers were wrapped with silvery bands; only her ring fingers and right thumb wore no ring. Several pendants dangled from her neck, a variety of bracelets jingled on both wrists, and even her ankles were adorned with plain jewelry. Each of her ears were pierced with flashy gem studs, but her left ear was crowded with generic loops and rods. The ring on her right pointer finger hugged the digit with warmth.

Similarly, Payton’s right pointer finger, fitted with a similar ring, felt warm, as well. The Ranger walked through the desert in the same direction as her targets from the night before: toward Onyxlanding. Rain poured from the heavy clouds above, a rather rare sight in the Valley Strip, especially in the summer. Nonetheless, Payton strode, dragging her soaking boots through the damp sand.

“You’re absolutely sure?” the woman in the cozy room asked. She spoke in a half-whisper and with an accent similar to Sly’s—no drawl to be heard. Somehow, from who-knows-how far, Payton heard her.

“Definitely,” Payton confirmed. “Couldn’t mistake ‘im once ‘e got up close.”

The decorated woman licked her lips and moaned softly before speaking.

“Now that’s some exciting news,” she said in her half-whisper tone. “Thank you, darling. Will you be trailing them to Onyxlanding?”

“Yes, Miss. The tracks’re gettin’ smeared from the rain, but I know the way.”

“Good. I would like you to oversee an experiment I’ve set up there. Don’t mettle with the Outlaw and his party in town, just keep watch.”

“Yes, Miss. What am I t’be watchin’ out for?”

“I’ve sent someone over there to test out something the government’s tasked me with working on. Also, I’m interested in knowing what Dawn’s Spell is, if he really has one like the big wigs suspect. Think you can handle that?”

“Yes, Miss. I’ll be there by midday.”

“Good. And, Payton? Don’t worry about anyone else interfering with your targets. I’ll handle everything. You be good now.”

“Yes, Miss.”

The woman stood from her chair and took swaying steps to a mirror on one of the walls perpendicular to the fireplace. Her left side glowed sporadically with the flickering of the fire. She took a breath and clutched one of the pendants around her neck before closing her eyes and lowering her head.

“My sweet, sweet Moon,” she whispered to herself. “How much longer?”

***

Rain: rarely did it ever do more than drizzle in the Valley Strip, much less drench the landscape with torrential downpour. Curtis and Sly looked as though they had just taken a swim in the nonexistent lakes of the desert, their boots sloshing with every step. Despite wearing Curtis’s poncho, Mabel wasn’t spared much, her dark hair falling in clumped locks; her shoulders were tired from carrying the fabric which was then heavy with water. The party meandered into town from the west unhindered, but also unwelcomed.

Onyxlanding was an old mining town established early in the Valley Strip’s modern history. It supplied gold and precious gemstones to the government for many decades, being the region’s largest known gold reserve. Eventually, only about half-a-decade ago or so, the mines dried up and left hundreds without a job. The town, however, had grown to such a size that it couldn’t just be abandoned; thankfully, that also meant there were plenty more jobs to go around, so it was rare to see ex-miners forced to leave in search of opportunity.

The government had even sponsored some of the best miners to go work in other mines around the Valley Strip, but they couldn’t take everyone. Curtis and Sly were each fairly familiar with Onyxlanding, knowing it to be a thriving population center even after the mines dried up, specializing in other large businesses such as jewelry and banking. But that afternoon, the normally busy streets were relatively empty thanks to the terrible storm moving slowly overhead.

The party saw that as the perfect opportunity to walk into town without arousing suspicion. Surely there would be a number of people who would recognize either Curtis or Sly, if not both, and while the rain would help cover their identities, they made a plan just in case. Curtis took his poncho back from Mabel, somewhat to her disliking, and led the his companions to a side street. The three gathered under a small awning where a short wooden table was situated.

Curtis pulled his coin purse from one of the bags on his horse’s saddle and withdrew all the money he had: three silver coins, two dimes, and eight pennies.

“Let’s pool our funds,” Curtis said. “Hopefully we have enough for some food, new clothes, and maybe a few other things if we’re lucky.”

Mabel bored her hand into her pocket and felt around as if trying to gather a handful to contribute, but only retrieved a single coin. She frowned a bit at the sight of her lackluster funds.

“I just have the dime you gave me in Coyote Run,” she sighed.

Curtis nodded and added it to the pile, then turned to Sly who rattled his own coin purse. Confidently, he loosened the purse’s mouth and dumped the contents onto the table. Twenty-seven silver coins fell onto the small pile with loud clinks! along with nine more dimes. Mabel’s jaw slowly fell, pulling her lips from one another as she looked up at the Ranger. Curtis blinked a few times before also looking at Sly who wore a proud expression on his face.

“What the hell, Sly,” Curtis said. “You just carry that one you?”

“Well, the bank wasn’t very large in Sunnyville,” Sly explained, “So, I just kept a bunch of cash on me for a while, and I didn’t want to stick around in Coyote Run too long after our fight, so I never deposited any.”

“Okay, that’s great,” Curtis said, shaking his head. “This oughta get us pretty far.”

“I have a lot more in the bank, too,” Sly said, almost as if to gloat. “I can go withdraw even more if we want.”

“No, that’s fine,” Curtis blurted, seemingly annoyed at that point. “Listen, it’s great knowin’ that we have such reserves,” then slightly under his breath “even if we only just now found out,” and then again in a normal speaking tone, “but we shouldn’t keep so much on our persons ‘long as we have access to a bank account.”

Curtis quickly counted the funds—30 silver, 12 dimes, and eight pennies—and split the pile evenly in half. He pushed one half toward Sly and took the other half for himself.

“Let’s split this an’ take separate paths through town for now,” Curtis suggested. “I’ll go buy us some rations fer the road, restock the supplies in my bags, and I need new drapes for my horse.”

He pressed his pointer finger onto the table near the money he set aside for his companions.

“Sly, I trust you t’ handle ammunition, since I should probably try to avoid gun shops from here on out, as well as clothes and lodgin’. I’m tired as hell and just wanna sleep in a real bed as least once this week. Maybe get two rooms so we aren’t so obviously travelin’ together.”

Sly nodded the entire time during Curtis’s explanation and brushed the coins into his coin purse with his hand.

“Also,” Curtis added. “Take Mabel with ya.”

Mabel eyes widened and she looked at Curtis with a pleading expression.

“But, Curtis,” she whimpered.

“It’ll be safer fer ya that way,” Curtis replied. “Good?” he asked toward Sly.

Sly raised a fist with his thumb up and winked at the Outlaw.

“Don’t you worry, Dawn, I’ll take good care of her!” Sly put an arm over Mabel’s shoulders and pulled her close. The girl’s face displayed her discomfort. “We’ll have a great time,” Sly said with a smile to the urchin.

Curtis gave Mabel a look that said ‘Please just do as I say.’ Mabel sighed and saw how tired the Outlaw was. She was tired, too.

“Okay,” she exhaled.

Curtis nodded and stepped away from the table, back into the rain. He adjusted his hat so the rain water wasn’t cascading in front of his face so much and grabbed hold of his horse’s reigns.

“I’ll find ya once I’m done shoppin’,” Curtis yelled over the rain, “and we’ll figure out a proper meal for us tonight.”

The Outlaw turned and began down the street in the opposite direction of the main road. Mabel, then holding Sly’s hand as though she were a toddler, shouted at Curtis through the storm.

“Don’t go spendin’ any on ambling’!”

Curtis grinned under his hat and thought, No need for that when I’ve got so much to work with. He was still slightly annoyed that Sly casually provided so much money, but was grateful.

***

“Let’s get out of the rain for a bit,” Sly said, leading Mabel into a small office off the main road.

The bell above the door rang as the Ranger walked in with Mabel in tow. The building was short, nestled between a crowded saloon and a larger theater. The theater wasn’t the same as the fancy-shmancy kind found in the Big City; those were decorated with flashing lights and displayed the finest in moving-picture technology, but the one in Onyxlanding simply hosted live plays.

The office Sly took Mabel to was a small, formal building for Rangers and officers alike. It wasn’t a police station, but a government law enforcement office primarily used to formally claim bounties and receive updated bounty information such as changes to bounty amounts, recent sightings of Outlaws with bounties, and specific assignments for Rangers when needed. It was the type of office responsible for printing official wanted posters, as well. The office made Mabel uncomfortable, probably because of her usual bad experience with law enforcement she thought.

Sly seemed comfortable and confident striding into the building, however, so Mabel clung to his back and didn’t let her eyes wander too much. The office may have been slightly busier than usual due to the rain, but there were still only about six or seven people inside, including the two desk workers. Sly approached the desk, smiled and nodded to the closer worker, and retrieved a bounty pamphlet from a stack on the corner of the desk. Bounty pamphlets were free for anyone to take and contained a straight forward list of names with aliases and corresponding bounties.

Sly led Mabel over to a small table and laid the packet of papers flat for both of them to read. The pamphlet was designed primarily for individuals with prior knowledge about Outlaws and provided no pictures—just names and bounty amounts. Mabel noticed that the first page was marked special from the other papers with names and bounties printed in red ink rather than black, and a stamp of a bird at the top of the page. She asked Sly the meaning of the differences.

“This first page is dedicated to what are called Mavericks,” Sly explained. “That is, Outlaws who have bounties equal to and or greater than 100 gold. Most of them have Spells, too, but not all of them.”

Mabel skimmed the list. Midnight was listed, of course, at 500 gold and with no other name mentioned. She counted briefly about twenty-or-so names on the first list. Midnight was more or less in the middle, maybe a little more toward the top. She glanced at some of the other names, as well, noting ones such as Abraham Cannon a.k.a. “the Twin,”, Lester Langely, William Bon—wait. She glanced back up the page; Lester Langley. The name sent shivers down her back and filled her with grief and anger.

Dark images flashed in her mind, the sounds of begging and crying, hissing laughter and crows cawing. She closed her eyes and tried to shake the imagery and sounds from her mind, only succeeding when Sly touched her shoulder and asked if she was okay. Mabel’s eyes shot open and she abruptly looked up at the Ranger. Sly looked at her with worry painted all over his face. Mabel realized that her breathing was rushed, panting, and she tried to calm down.

“Are you feeling ill?” Sly asked.

Mabel took deep breaths and wiped sweat from her forehead. She turned back to the pamphlet, to the name: Lester Langley.

“I’m okay,” she said between her slowed breaths.

Sly watched the girl for a moment longer before turning his attention back to the bounty pamphlet. Mable pointed to another name further down the page. The name read William Bonney a.k.a. “Billy the Kid.”

“Billy the Kid exists?” Mabel inquired.

“Oh, yeah,” Sly answered, still a little concerned for Mabel.

“I’ve heard stories about ‘im, but I always thought they were just fiction. Somethin’ to scare little chil’rens into ehaving’ lest Billy the Kid come an’ snatch ‘em up.”

Sly chuckled at the idea of such a story, and confessed that he had heard similar tales at the Ranger Academy.

“There’s some truth to them, I suppose,” the Ranger confessed. “But he’s just a regular ol’ Outlaw like everyone else. Well, as regular as they can be, especially as a Maverick.”

“So, what’s the bird mean?” Mabel questioned, pointing to the stamp at the top of the page.

“That’s the Sign of the Albatross,” Sly said. “It’s just the symbol associated with Mavericks, inspired by the first ever Maverick, Max “the Albatross” Dalton. He had a tattoo just like that.”

“I don’t see ‘im on this list.”

“That’s because he’s not around anymore. Gunned down maybe fifty-or-so years ago in a catastrophic shootout between he and a dozen officers. My parents were still children at the time, and, of course, I wasn’t even a concept yet. Long time ago.”

Mabel nodded while continuing to eye the list. She drew her gaze up to the top of the list, reading the first name and bounty. Her eyes glazed over with astonishment at seeing the number displayed on the right side of the page: 925 gold. She pointed a frail finger at the number and looked up at Sly, who chuckled in response.

“You’re obsessed with the money aspect of it, aren’t you?” the Ranger joked.

“Sorry, I’ve never really had much of it m’self.”

“It’s understandable. Plus, that’s certainly no number to gawk at. This guy’s getting pretty close to 1,000,000 dimes. I wonder if they’ll make a new name for Outlaws with bounties that high. Although, this guy will probably be the only one up there for a while, since the next highest isn’t even very close.”

“I can’t even imagine that many coins. Makes m’head hurt.”

Mabel rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands.

“These lists are pretty long,” Sly said flipping to the last page. “They go all the way down, the lowest bounty listed being five als.”

“What’s an al?” Mabel asked.

“It’s short for alloy coin. It’s the unit between silver and gold.”

“Oh. I think I’ve heard of those.”

“You’re familiar with dimes. You could call that the base line; everybody uses dimes. And you know that one dime is worth ten pennies. Go the opposite way and you’ll get one silver for ten dimes. It all works the same. You can guess, then, that ten silver is one al, and ten als is one gold. Of course, that means one gold is 1,000 dimes, which isn’t the kind of money used by the public. I’d be surprised to even see many people carrying als in their pockets.”

“I’ve never been good at numbers,” Mabel groaned, keeping her face covered with her hands.

“Stick with your big words, then,” Sly teased. “Just know that 900 gold is some serious dough, even for someone with my background.”

“Didn’t you say that Midnight had the highest bounty you’d seen?”

“Yeah, he did, until now.”

“How didn’t you know about these other really high ones?”

“Mavericks are kind of a special case. I knew Midnight’s bounty, but that was it. Outlaws with bounties that high are way out of the league of even seasoned Rangers such as myself. It takes a special kind of Ranger to go after a Maverick, so most of us don’t talk about them much, even in passing.”

Sly flipped back through the pages before rolling the pamphlet and shoving it into his pocket.

“Sunnyville didn’t have an office like this, so I couldn’t stay up to date on bounties too much, aside from the occasional delivery of individual wanted posters which never included Mavericks.”

Sly and Mabel walked to a window at the front of the building and peered out into the misty street. The rain looked to have let up only slightly, but that was hopefully a sign of an end to the storm. The pair burst from the office doors and ran down the side of the road, trying to stay as covered as they could under awnings and overhangs. They passed the biggest and most significant buildings which were all situated along the main road: a library, a bakery and sweet shop, a general store, a bank, and—.

“Aha!” Sly exclaimed. “Let’s go in here.”

Mabel was pulled into a warm store advertising the latest styles and trends in fashion. Shirts, pants, blouses, tunics, ponchos, hats, shoes, belts, boots, dresses, bedtime attire, and more were all displayed wonderfully throughout the store. Mabel had seen clothing stores before, but was never particularly drawn to them. Her drab rags-for-clothes always helped her with begging to strangers, but since she no longer needed to beg on the streets…

“I don’t think I need many new things,” Sly said. “My clothes could use a wash, but other than that, I think we should focus on you.”

“Oh, okay,” Mabel mumbled. She rarely ever had the luxury of choice before, and now, with so many options, she wasn’t sure what to feel. What did she want?

***

Curtis collected his change and thanked the cashier for his help. He walked outside and packed the rations he’d purchased into one of the sacks on his horse’s saddle. He had emptied out the old mess kit, tinderbox, and even trashed his dirty knapsack, replacing everything and buying extras for his companions, and reorganized it all on the sides of the saddle. He was always appreciative of the fact that his metallic steed never had to worry about getting fatigued from carrying so much, not that Curtis’s supplies were very heavy, but certainly a normal animal would grow tired after a full day of travel. Curtis’s horse, however, was always completely refreshed.

That reminded him, though, that he needed to find a horse for Sly. Mabel could continue riding with himself, or Sly if she chose. He chuckled. She would never choose that. Curtis made sure the packs were tightly bound to the saddle’s sides and mounted himself atop the silvery beast. His shoulder spiked with pain. It would take a while for last night’s injury to heal. He stopped at a fabric shop in the marketplace to purchase new drapes for his own, then found a stable selling horses. Curtis counted his remaining funds and sighed.

“I don’t suppose you take I.O.U.s?” Curtis asked in a desperate tone.

The stable tender shook his head with his large, hairy arms crossed. His bald head and bushy mustache told the Outlaw that, despite being finely dressed in a buttoned shirt and overalls, this man was not to be trifled with.

Tryna steal one would certainly cause a scene, Curtis thought. Not what I need right now.

Curtis sighed and turned to exit the shack which was out front of the actual stables. He grabbed the reigns of his own steed and turned back to see the selection of horses for sale. A fine display, indeed, presenting stallions, geldings, mares, even colts for sale. Curtis thought about how Sly had mentioned having more money in the bank, so certainly they could return and choose the perfect mount for the Ranger. Curtis began making his way back toward the main road through town to find Sly and Mabel.

***

Mabel stepped out from her changing room in a light-colored, buttoned blouse with dark pants, a fresh pair of riding boots, and a black gunfighter hat. She stood straight and looked herself up-and-down in a full-body mirror. She couldn’t help but feel giddy at her new attire; she had never been able to afford such nice, clean clothing, and the refreshed sight of herself made her blush.

“Aren’t you just a pretty little thing,” Sly commented.

Mabel nodded and said nothing.

“Just wait until we can wash up at an inn; you’ll look even better.”

Sly examined himself in the mirror. While waiting for Mabel, he’d picked out a new pair of boots and a clean white poncho with blue trim and décor. His old shirt and pants were still in good condition, but needed a wash. The duo picked out a new, dark poncho for Curtis, as well, along with new boots, a tunic, and a chocolate-colored rancher hat. Sly asked the cashier to fit the clothes into double-layered bags, saying, “We don’t want these to get soaked before we even get to wear them out.”

Mabel walked in front as the two exited the clothes shop and back into the rain which, while lighter than before, was still a considerable shower. Sly counted the money remaining in their half of the funds.

“We should stop by the bank,” he said. “We’re almost out of coins, and Curtis probably spent most of his, too.”

“So, how much money do ya really have, Sly?” Mabel questioned.

“Well, I come from a rich family, and I have access to one of their accounts. I don’t remember how much is actually in it, but I’m the only one who uses it regularly. Most of my family’s wealth comes from property, though, not actual cash.”

“Oh, got it. I’ve never had much property, either.”

Sly frowned a bit at that. He rested a hand on Mabel’s shoulder. She looked back at him.

“As long as you’re with us, you’ll always have enough for your needs.” Sly grabbed her hand and walked in front of her, dragging her behind. “Now, let’s go get some spending money, and maybe a treat for you, too!”

The bank was a large building of silvery stone. Large windows with tinted glass contrasted the light façade and hefty double doors made the entrance grand. Inside, the floor was a clean tile, and the tellers’ booths were of similar marbled design. Mabel had never seen such a fancy building. Sly approached the nearest available teller and requested a withdrawal.

“Sure thing,” the teller said. “Just fill out this slip and I’ll get right on that.”

Sly took the pen handed by the teller and signed his signature on the paper after specifying the amount he wanted to withdraw, along with his account number. He thought for a moment, then decided that 15 more silver would be sufficient for the time being. The teller took the paper smiled at the Ranger before retreating behind a door at the back of his booth. Sly looked around the bank while he waited.

It was quiet inside, not many customers. Mabel let her eyes wander to the walls decorated with painted portraits and expensive mounts. She gazed up at the high ceiling which was darkened with the rain lessening the sunlight normally allowed in by the large windows on the sides of the building. Sly watched patrons enter and exit at their own leisure, seemingly in no rush. He thought the slow business could be due to most townsfolk being busy with work in the middle of the day.

Despite losing its main business, Onyxlanding was still a well populated town and surely bustled in the evenings and on weekends. Of course, the rain didn’t help, either. The teller returned after a few minutes and handed Sly a small sack which rattled when Sly picked it up.

“Is there anything else I can do for you this afternoon?” the teller asked.

Sly smiled and shook his head. On the other side of the building at the teller’s booth nearest the other wall, a cloaked man raised his right arm to reveal a shining, metal hand at the end of a silver arm. The joints of the man’s fingers clicked as he balled his hand into a fist and brought his knuckles down to meet the stone counter in front of him. With little resistance, the stone cracked and crumbled under the pressure of the downward punch.

The teller in the booth screamed and leapt back, her shriek drowned out by the man’s maniacal laughter. Sly spun around to witness the commotion. Mabel also jumped at the sudden crash; Sly stepped in front of the girl and put a hand in front of her.

“Stay back,” he told her.

The man continued to laugh as he took a step into the teller’s booth. His boots crushed the tiny remnants of the stone counter to dust as glass from the teller’s shattered window popped under his weight.

“That surgeon wasn’t jokin’,” the man said aloud. “This feels amazing. I’m way stronger now!”

The robber stomped past the teller, barking and faking an attack at her just to make her flinch. The man laughed and reached for the door behind the teller’s booth.

“Stop right there!” Sly shouted. He stood in front of the broken booth with one of his revolvers drawn and aimed at the robber. The robber looked over his shoulder at Sly and growled.

“Who the hell’re you?” he snarled.

“The name’s Nathan Bowman; the Ranger known as ‘Sly.’”

The man held his breath. A Ranger? he thought. He’s not supposed to be here. I better be careful.

He turned slowly and raised his hands. Sly got a better look under the man’s cloak and could see his right sleeve was torn to reveal the entirety of his arm; it looked as though it was made of metal. It wasn’t as sleek and smooth as Curtis’s horse, but Sly couldn’t help to notice the resemblance. He studied the robber’s face; it looked familiar, then it clicked.

“Benjamin ‘Bad Mouth’ Rivera,” Sly stated. He remembered the name and could recall that it stuck out to him on the updated bounty pamphlet because his bounty had increased drastically. Bad Mouth used to be a relatively small Outlaw with a bounty of only 5 als, the lowest listed on the pamphlet. He was quite rambunctious and considered deadly just because of his aggressive nature, but now Sly could see why his bounty had shot up to 9.1 als—910 dimes.

“Seems as though you’ve gotten an upgrade since I last heard of you,” Sly said. “That looks like more than just a fancy gauntlet.”

“You’ve never seen anythin’ like this,” Bad Mouth boasted while drawing his right arm back by his side and balling his hand into another fist. He lowered his left arm and grabbed hold of his cloak as he began to charge at the Ranger. Sly didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger on his revolver, but just as the shot was fired, Bad Mouth raised his cloak to conceal most of his body. The bullet raced at the Outlaw faster than sound and collided with the cloak.

Bad Mouth stopped for a moment, but to Sly’s surprise, the bullet fell to the floor flattened as if it had collided with an incredibly hard surface. Bad Mouth huffed and let a snarling grin split his face. He continued his charge as Sly took a step back and cocked his weapon for a second shot, then a third, a fourth. Bad Mouth charged through all of them and got up close to the Ranger. Once he was positioned right in front of Sly, Bad Mouth swept his cloak to the side and thrusted his metal fist at the Ranger.

Sly could feel the immense power behind the punch and swore he could hear a crack as the fist collided with his chest, probably his own ribs. Bad Mouth sent another punch to Sly’s gut, this time with his regular left hand, then a third using his metal fist again. Sly did his best to block when he could, but the strength of the armored arm was incredible and made even blocked punches quite difficult to endure.

After landing a couple more blows to Sly, Bad Mouth raised his right leg high for a kick to Sly’s side. Sly braced himself with his arms, but was caught off guard by how strong the kick was, too. Sly stumbled and rolled on the ground. Bad Mouth stood confident and cackled at his own power. Sly slowly recovered and felt his side where the kick landed; it already began to swell and his breathing was hindered by the pain in his chest.

By then, Mabel and the rest of the people in the bank who weren’t close enough to the door to confidently escape huddled behind a couple of teller booths. Mabel peeked over the counter to watch as Sly struggled to stand. She looked at the door and hoped that Curtis would burst through at any moment to rescue the Ranger.

Someone, she thought. Anyone, please!

“That leg of yours,” Sly groaned, finally standing straight. “That was a mighty strong kick. Don’t tell me…”

Bad Mouth snarled once more and gripped the right leg of his pants. He yanked at the fabric and tore it clean off to reveal his right leg, similarly silvered like his arm. Sly’s stomach sank. He hadn’t expected this level of challenge from such a previously low-ranked Outlaw.

“I couldn’t kick that high before!” Bad Mouth asserted with a hardy laugh.

Sly took the moment of rest to think. Bad Mouth’s right arm and leg had been enhanced somehow if not outright replaced by machines. He was much stronger and dexterous than a normal man. Not to mention that his cloak was somehow bulletproof, too.

Not good, Sly thought. I have to create an opening; need to catch him off guard.

Sly readied his revolver for another shot, then leapt to his left so he could shoot away from the huddled crowd. Bad Mouth prepared himself for the bullets with his cloak pulled over his body again and yelled at Sly.

“Your guns won’t work so well on me! Not even a Ranger can stop me now!”

Sly needed Bad Mouth’s confidence to increase. He aimed at the cloak and fired his fifth and sixth shots from his first revolver. The bullets flattened against the cloak and jingled on the ground. Immediately after, Sly spun his second revolver from its holster and fired. As he shot, he took steps toward the Outlaw who stood his ground, probably allowing Sly to get closer so he could make melee strikes again once Sly ran out of bullets. Perfect.

Sly fired the second shot, then the third, fourth, fifth. He advanced on the Outlaw swiftly and got within arm’s reach. The Ranger forced himself as close as he could, but he was surprised that Bad Mouth hadn’t made a move yet. Sly was able to reach for Bad Mouth’s cloak and raised his weapon for the sixth shot aimed underneath the garment. Suddenly, Bad Mouth’s metallic leg sprung upward and knocked Sly’s hand upward just as the Ranger fired.

***

Curtis rode along the main road, still as rain-soaked as ever. The rain had finally begun to lighten up just a bit when Curtis heard a series of BOOMs! as he passed the bank. His first thought was that it was thunder, but he couldn’t fool himself for very long. He stopped his steed before he entered line-of-sight of the tinted windows on the front of the building.

No way there’s a bank robbery goin’ on, he thought. Here? In as big a town as this? Then again, I haven’t seen even a single officer since we got here, not to mention any Rangers, even at this huge bank.

He waited before crossing in front of the bank. He heard another series of thunderous blasts.

Whatever’s goin’ on in there, ‘s probably best I avoid it.

***

The sixth shot from Sly’s second gun embedded itself in the high, stone ceiling. Bad Mouth’s kick swayed the cloak away from the rest of his body, however, which was just the opening Sly was hoping for. Before Bad Mouth had a chance to recover for another series of punches, the Ranger raised a leg for his own kick to Bad Mouth’s torso. The Outlaw brought his leg down more quickly than Sly had anticipated and used his enhanced arm to grasp Sly’s leg before it could contact his body, but Sly was one step ahead.

The Ranger thrusted his leg toward the ground, forcing the Outlaw to lean forward as he continued holding Sly’s leg. Then, Sly took aim with his first revolver and cocked the hammer. Bad Mouth’s brow furrowed as he glimpsed the barrel of the revolver.

Wait, how many shots was that? Bad Mouth wondered. Did I miscount?

Bad Mouth released Sly’s leg from his iron grip and tried to bend back as far as he could to avoid Sly’s next bullet. The Outlaw’s efforts were just enough to escape with a fairly minor scrape on his left bicep, but that was all Sly needed for the time being. Sly lunged at Bad Mouth, taking advantage of the Outlaw’s unbalanced stance, and wrapped his arms around the robber’s waist. With a deep breath and adrenaline fueling his strength, Sly forced Bad Mouth to the ground. As he was dragged to the floor, Bad Mouth howled.

“No way, ya son of a—!” His sentence was cut short when his back slammed against the tile. He inhaled sharply and raised his arms above his head, then slammed his fists down on Sly’s back as the Ranger continued to hold him against the ground. Sly winced with every slam, but managed to get out a few words to the crowd cowering behind the counters.

“Get out of here, now,” he groaned. “He’s stuck here for a little longer!”

The tellers ushered the frightened patrons toward the door. Curtis’s horse jolted back when the large front doors flew open and a small flood of people poured out into the rain, Mabel included. Curtis shook his head in surprise.

“Mabel?” he called.

The girl faced the familiar voice and broke away from the crowd.

“Curtis!” she called back. “Help Sly!”

Curtis understood the message right and spurred his horse toward the door. Inside, Sly’s grapple had loosened during the beating and Bad Mouth gained the upper hand once again. He broke free of Sly’s strong hold and sprung to his feet. Sly tried to match the Outlaw’s agility, but the robotic limbs gave Bad Mouth an obvious advantage. The Outlaw stomped his superior foot down on one of the Ranger’s hands which still held a revolver, causing Sly to groan and open his hand.

Bad Mouth kicked Sly’s face and shoulders with his other foot, then stepped off of the Ranger’s hand. He kicked Sly over and retrieved the revolver from the ground, then took aim. He cocked the hammer, pointed the barrel at Sly’s bruised head, and—BLAM!

Bad Mouth peered over his shoulder at the man standing in the entrance to the bank. Curtis stood with one arm straight, holding one of his revolvers in Bad Mouth’s direction. With the opposing Outlaw’s cloak shielding his back, Curtis’s bullet was crushed and fell flat on the floor.

“What in tar—? Did I see that right?” Curtis questioned, unsure of what he’d witnessed.

Bad Mouth grew angrier upon having another gunslinger enter the fray. Judging by Curtis’s outfit, Bad Mouth figured it wasn’t a regular officer who’d come to save the day, but that Sly must have had back up.

“Damn it!” Bad Mouth exclaimed. “Another Ranger?”

The enhanced robber turned his attention away from Sly and took aim at Curtis who promptly took another shot, but the bullet deflected off of Bad Mouth’s metal arm.

“Huh?” Curtis gawked. “Where’d you—?”

“Hold on, Dawn,” Sly called from the floor. His voice was shaky and exhausted, but still held its confident tone. “We need him alive.”

Curtis scrunched his nose in a twisted facial expression, then relaxed.

“’Kay, I understand.” Curtis met Bad Mouth’s eyes which were red with anger.

“Who d’ya think y’are bargin’n on m’damn plan’n ta’n sho’at me y’co’ky so’m bi’!” Bad Mouth blurted, his speech quickly turning into incomprehensible grumbling.

“Hush up an’ make this easy fer all of us,” Curtis interrupted. “Or, if it’s a gunfight y’want, I’m the one you should be comin’ at.”

Bad Mouth pointed Sly’s gun at Curtis.

“But before ya do anything’,” Curtis continued, “consider how many bullets you got left. If it’s less than three, then I reckon I can take a couple before goin’ down, and I got a lot more than that to fire before I hit the ground.”

Curtis lifted his poncho with his free hand to reveal his second revolver. Bad Mouth mumbled and slurred, his hand shaking with rage with his finger on the trigger. Curtis swallowed and steadied his breathing.

“Don’t be stupid,” he said calmly. “I ain’t gonna give this up.”

Bad Mouth fumed for a moment longer, then seemed to suddenly relax. His shoulder drooped and his hand stopped shaking. He held his hands into the air and dropped Sly’s revolver. Sly smirked and nodded, then lifted himself to his feet with just a bit of trouble, and pulled Bad Mouth’s hands behind his back.

Curtis fetched some loose rope from one of his packs and tossed it to Sly, saying, “Bought a bunch o’ this today.”

The Ranger bound Bad Mouth’s wrists in a tight knot and escorted the robber out of the bank where law enforcement officials took the robber into custody. Curtis remained inside the bank for the moment to avoid being seen by the police. The officers offered to bring Sly, and Mabel who followed, back to the station to claim the bounty on Bad Mouth; Curtis trailed them at a safe distance.

***

“Nine-point-one als!” Curtis spouted. The party had convened at the small table underneath the awning from earlier; the rain had finally stopped by then. Sly nodded boastfully and Mabel peered over the edge of the table at the coins which looked primarily silver, but sheened with a golden glow in the light. Curtis collected himself and cleared his throat, trying to think responsibly.

“We oughta put that in the bank,” the Outlaw stated.

“I agree,” Sly replied. “I already withdrew some more coin for us before Bad Mouth started wrecking the place, so we’ll be okay without it.”

Mabel’s eyes followed the expensive pieces as Sly tucked them into his pocket.

“By the way,” Sly started. “You used your spell on Mister Rivera back there, but it seemed a lot easier than the other time I saw you do it.”

“It tends to be easier to use on people who aren’t in a stable state o’ mind,” Curtis affirmed. The party made their way back toward the bank, Curtis still hiding his identity with his hat and poncho.

“He sure was a crazy guy,” Mabel commented.

“The local sheriff said Rivera used to be miner back when Onyxlanding still exported gold and gemstones. Apparently, he went crazy when the mine shut down, and he’s tried taking revenge on the town a few times since then. He’s always gotten away, though.”

“It was quite apparent,” Curtis joked. He thought about Bad Mouth’s arm and leg modifications, but said nothing.

***

“The Outlaw Benjamin Rivera was thwarted in his plans to rob the bank,” Payton said.

The cozy room was dimly lit; the smell of roses wafted from a stick of incense on a small table next to the decorated woman’s chair and shadows danced on the walls with the unpredictable flickering of the fire. “Curtis Conrad an’ Nathan Bowman constrained ‘im and turned ‘im over to local authorities.”

“It was good timing, really,” the woman said in her hushed voice. “Though, I suppose I will have to give an answer as to why law enforcement took so long to respond and why my stationed Rangers seemed oblivious to the commotion.”

“The police arrived on scene after the situation had already been resolved, despite your orders to steer clear of the area.”

“I suspected that they might be forced to respond once things got a little out of hand.”

“Also, Rivera seemed to be acting strangely just before the police arrived. I think Conrad had something to do with it. It’s like Rivera just calmed down after a brief exchange with ‘im.”

“I bet it’s Dawn’s Spell. I’ll look back over the other reports.”

“Rivera is here, m’lady, as you requested. His bounty’s already been claimed, so after you’re done with ‘im, he’ll be taken straight to prison.”

“Bring him in.”

“Yes, Miss.”

Payton exited the room through a single wooden door and returned shortly after with the Outlaw; his wrists were shackled with proper cuffs then. Payton led him into the room and directed him to stand about ten feet from the chair. A blindfold covered his eyes. The jewelried woman stood and approached the Outlaw, a flirtatious grin on her face.

“Bad Mouth,” she breathed. She inspected his exposed metal arm and leg; his cloak had been confiscated by the police. She ran a slender finger along his armored shoulder and bicep before walking a circle around him.

“You may not have been able to abuse the full potential of that arm or leg of yours,” the woman said. “But you managed to show off enough of what’s possible with such tools.”

She made her way back to her chair and crossed her legs when she sat.

“Are you with the police?” Bad Mouth inquired. “I can tell you all about my arm and leg. Some surgeon gave ‘em to me. I’m sure you’d like to know—”

“Tsk, tsk, Benji.” The woman wagged her finger to the blinded Outlaw. “That’s not what I like to hear from someone I work with. Willing to give up such pivotal information for your own sake. Tsk, tsk.”

Bad Mouth swallowed; a bead of sweat formed on his forehead.

“Oh, wait, you’re with the surgeon. No, uh, I was just kiddin’. I—I just had to act like I was cooperatin’ in case you were with the police. I—.”

“That’s okay, Bad Mouth. I’ll forgive you, but only under one condition.”

“I’m sorry. Really, I was just gettin’ desperate. I’ll do whatever you ask. These upgrades are seriously awesome.”

The decorated woman nodded to Payton who removed the blindfold from Bad Mouth’s eyes. His eyes adjusted to the dim lighting and he looked confused once he recognized the woman in the chair.

“Wait a minute, you’re that woman Doyenne, Arma—”

BAM!

Bad Mouth swallowed and struggled to breathe. He blinked rapidly before collapsing to the ground. The gun in the woman’s hand smoked. She held it for a second longer before tossing it on the side table next to her chair. Payton wore a stunned expression.

“But, Miss, what about—”

“His bounty was already claimed, so his life was no longer worth anything. I don’t tolerate blabbermouths like him. Especially ones that can’t even talk properly when they get a little angry.”

Payton fell silent and nodded obediently. Bad Mouth’s lifeless body laid curled up on the floor, his expression a mixture of confusion and rage; probably what the man felt most of the time while he was alive. The woman said, “Find someone to clean this up. I’m going to need a new rug,” and waved her hand for Payton to leave. Before Payton was gone, the woman added, “Also, send out a notice about the Ranger called ‘Sly’ travelling with the Outlaw ‘Dawn.’ And make sure to emphasize…

“They’re mine.”

To be continued…