Kurt squirmed; his soft black felt gambler’s hat rolling away. “Hi Kitty.”

  “Tell ya a secret?” She leaned in closer, a dollop of mud sliding out of her hair to splat next to Kurt on the hardwood floor.

  “I do like secrets,” Kurt replied. He did his best to ignore the mud, a winning smile on his face.

  Kitty returned the smile, watching as Kurt’s faded. “I keep in touch with Jimmy,” Kitty announced. There she raised her eyebrows at him. “Ever since the whole blowing up Illusion thing, we text. It’s nice, you know? Really reminds me why I liked having you guys around so much.” She drew her Remington and started ejecting the wet shells, not paying much attention to where they fell. “It’s nice having friends.”

  Kurt wiped a shell from his chest, his arm angling through the chair legs to reach. “Wasn’t that last week? Still, I’m a little jealous.”

  “I bet,” Kitty snapped. She slowly and methodically reloaded her revolver, spinning the chamber when it was finished and splashing specks of mud all over.

  He flinched away from the splatters. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “So glad you asked. You see, Jimmy said a funny thing.” She waved the Remington around wantonly, causing the enraptured saloon guests to cringe away. “He tells me you’re working at some fancy new job all the time.” There she raised the revolver to her bottom lip, tapping it idly. “I wonder, is all. I wonder what you could possibly be doing here. With that job. I just wonder.”

  Kurt grimaced, squirming in a halfhearted attempt to wiggle free. “Well, I- “

  She stopped him with a boot, setting it lightly on his chest. “No. That’s the answer, Kurtis. No, you may not tag along.” With that, Kitty stood up, removed the chair from his chest and walked to the bar. When the bartender came over, he openly glared at her, glancing between her and the mess she had tracked through his business. “Sorry barkeep. Couldn’t be avoided. I’ve just survived some horrific stuff, and I need you to run me a bath please. I’ll pay triple for the mess.” That brightened him up a bit and he nodded, retreating to get her bath running.

  Kurt approached, straightening his tie. “You know, I warned them.” He nodded grimly as Kitty looked over at him. “I told them I can’t lie to you. I can’t hide anything from you. I never wanted this assignment and fought against it. I knew you’d know exactly why I was here as soon as I showed up.”

  “So what’s plan B?” Kitty asked. She leaned heavier on the counter, her exertions from the day starting to catch up.

  “Plan B was to tell the truth,” Kurt answered. He shrugged. “They want me to follow and report. Even if it’s openly.”

  “That seems like nonsense, they have access to the full feed.” She scowled at him slightly.

  “That’s not personal enough. They want reports from someone who knows you. Who understands how you’re feeling.” Kurt leaned into his fist on the counter, narrowing his eyes. “I’m meant to join back up in the merry band and sit down every so often about our mad adventures. Honestly not sure what they’re looking for.”

  “That’s alright Kurtis, you don’t have to know. All you have to know is that I’m saying no. You may not join me.” She reached into her satchel and took out a button of peyote, rolling it back and forth on the bar. “Unless.”

  Kurt cleared his throat. “Yes?”

  Kitty exhaled sharply. “I need my JimJam.”

  “Jimmy?”

  “Yes, Jimmy.”

  “They’ll never agree. He’s not on the beta list, and I can’t get him on it.” Kurt blinked a few times rapidly as he finished. One of his former poker partners walked over, hat in hand.

  “Excuse me ma’am, I don’t mean to rush you at all, nor do I sit in judgement of your peculiar conversation. We was just in the midst of a game, and I . . . well, what I mean to say is, the fellas and I was wondering when we could expect our playin’ partner back.” He nodded nervously as she looked over her shoulder at him. Kitty flashed him her brightest smile, holding up a single finger as he enthusiastically agreed and retreated, stumbling slightly on a chair in his way.

  “You have my price, go back and report it.” She sniffed the peyote button, grimacing at its odor.

  “I’ve already tried. They looked him over and said no, I don’t know what to tell you,” Kurt said. His voice was becoming stressed, a sign that brought another smile to Kitty’s face. “They will not let Jimmy play this game.”

  “It’s not a game,” Kitty said sharply. She met his eyes, narrowing hers. “And yeah of course they don’t want him in here. Jimmy is actually a good person.”

  “Thanks,” Kurt said, wounded.

  “Oh Kurtis, don’t get maudlin. You’re a monster and you know it. You lie like most people breathe, you’re a naturally talented killer, and you steal everything that isn’t nailed down.” Kitty snapped her fingers. “Matter of fact, last time we met you stole a lot of money from me, vaguely speaking.”

  “Well . . . I stole it from GoonStorm mostly, but I see what you mean.” He avoided meeting her gaze, knowing the annoyed glare that would be there waiting for him.

  “Either way Kurtis, it’s not personal. I will happily accept having you back on my team. Reports to Blacklight and all.” She paused for effect, carefully placing the button of peyote back in her satchel. “If they let Jimmy play with me too. End of negotiations, go get me what I need.”

  Kurt sighed deeply again, standing and turning to rejoin his poker game. After shrugging to his partners, he slumped into his seat and started picking specks of mud from his suit vest. Kitty got up to leave but made a slight detour to the poker table. “Thank you for the loan gentlemen. But careful with this one.” There she lifted Kurt’s arm and folded up his sleeve in a single quick motion, exposing the small stash of playing cards on a hidden brace. “He cheats.”

  The saloon hadn’t been exactly boisterous up to that point, but how quickly it went totally silent was notable. The only sound she could hear above Kurt’s small groan was the cocking hammers of several revolvers.

  Kitty kissed Kurt on the forehead, grinned at him, and walked outside. Abraham fell into step beside her as the saloon became the site of a quick but brutal shootout. The sheriff came bustling out of his office across the street, huffing as he hurried past them. When she moved to open the door and head inside, Abraham leaned against the wall again. She looked at him for a few seconds, shrugged, and went inside.

  Mitchel was sitting at the sheriff's desk, filling out a form. He jumped as she entered, but quickly regained his composure. “Ma’am.”

  She scowled and was about to address him when she took in the back of the office, and the prisoner holding cells. Grace was huddled against the corner of her cell, still unresponsive. Jacob was cradling his arm and speaking in hushed tones to a pony express rider.

  “Hey! Don’t let him take that message!” Kitty stepped forward to intervene, but Mitchel stopped her with a hand on her elbow.

  “Sorry Ma’am. We’re not to intervene, federal law. The prisoner has a right to communications after being arrested.” He glanced over his shoulder to see Jacob leering at them. “The doc is finishing up with Earl, he’ll be over soon to look at that arm.”

  “You’re seriously going to let him send a message out? He could murder this entire town.” Kitty was growling at this point, leaning in close.

  Mitchel sighed and shook his head. “It’s the man’s right, and it’s the law you agreed to uphold when you were deputized.” The Pony Express rider tipped his hat as he walked past the two of them, his eyes hooded and lips tight. Kitty glanced between him and Jacob, sighing when she saw the look on the face of the man in the cell.

  Kitty prodded Mitchel in the shoulder. “Hey canary. Take a good look at that cat over there.”

  When he looked over his shoulder at Jacob, Mitchel shuddered. “What do you want me to do about it? It’s the damned law.”

  Kitty glanced out the door and saw the sheriff returning, his hands bloodied. The portly man startled at the sight of Abraham looming beside his doorway. “Nothing right now, but I need to talk soon,” Kitty answered absently.

  The door banged open, and a red faced sheriff entered. “What is that creature doing outside my office? He’s a wanted man, I’ve half a mind to slap him in irons right now,” the sheriff griped. He stepped over to a standing basin and poured water into it from a metal bucket before washing his hands.

  Kitty held up a hand. “Sheriff, I’d heartily appreciate if you didn’t. You and I need to have words about him.”

  Mitchel vacated his seat for a comfortable leaning position against the wall and the Sheriff plopped down into it again, toweling his hands before tossing the now bloodied towel to rest over his shoulder. He slid out the desk drawer and produced a slip of paper. After scratching at it with his pen for a few minutes, he slid it over to her. “Payment rendered for the prisoner delivered. The bank will honor that with cash, gold, or silver soon as they’re open. I leave it to you to split it up amongst your posse.”

  Kitty tapped a finger against the slip. “Thanks very much sheriff. About that though . . . I need to talk about that man outside’s bounty.” She waited while the sheriff turned and bristled his mustaches at her before continuing. “The circumstances that led to his bein’ wanted were a misunderstanding. He’s not like Jacob over there.”

  The sheriff turned in his chair, creaking the wood and peering at Jacob.

  Jacob grinned at him. “She’s right. I don’t usually eat folk.”

  “Pay him no mind, sheriff. Abraham saved our lives tonight. He’s on our side, just let me talk to him and I’ve no doubt he can be of great help ‘round here,” Kitty said.

  The sheriff glanced over his shoulder at Jacob again and scowled, mustache rippling. “Well, if he has your vouch that makes him your problem. You keep him on a short leash while I get the pardon paperwork started. It’ll take a while, has to go to the governor. Also requires the bounty be paid off in full before-hand.” He slid the paper back to his side of the desk and scratched out the amount, replacing it with a lower amount. Kitty accepted it as he slid it back and checked the amount.

  Three thousand, six hundred, and forty-three dollars.

  Kitty smiled, showing her teeth as she glanced over at Jacob. He sighed and nodded at her, tipping her an exasperated salute before laying back onto the bed. “Thank you sheriff, I’ll keep him on the straight and narrow.” With that she turned to look at Mitchel, cocking her head. “Mitchel, can I speak with you?”

  He glanced over from his position against the wall and nodded. “Yes ma’am. Lead the way.”

  They exited the sheriff’s office and Kitty started walking down the empty street toward the bank building. Abraham immediately fell in beside them, and Kitty noticed that Mitchel moved to the other side of her, one hand resting on the butt of his gun. She stopped and turned to the scar covered giant. “Abraham, I need to do some things here in town. Would you prefer to get some rest?”

  He growled, eyes narrowing in thought. “Jacob is here. He’s dangerous. I should stay.”

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  “Oh don’t fret over him none big fella. Jacob has an appointment with the rope at noon.” Mitchel looked over his shoulder and nodded at his own words.

  Abraham merely stared at him.

  “Maybe you should stay and keep an eye on him? Make sure he doesn’t escape.” Kitty looked up at the big man and smiled when he slowly nodded, his shaggy beard bobbing. Without another word, Abraham moved back to his place at the side of the door, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

  Kitty and Mitchel continued their short journey to the bank. As they arrived, Mitchel frowned. “What are we doin’ here, ma’am? Bank ain't open for hours yet.”

  “Yes, I know. I just wanted to get a look at the place and get a chance for a private chat with you.” She turned and faced him. “Why are you calling me ma’am? I don’t like it.”

  Mitchel raised an eyebrow. “Prefer I call you ‘miss Kitty?’”

  Kitty took a small step back. “Thought we were getting close for a minute there Mitchel, what happened?”

  He swept some drying mud from his shirt and took a deep breath. “I ain't a fool, ma’am. When we set out on a bounty hunt together, I thought you a touch strange, no offense meant.”

  She smiled toothily at him. “None taken.”

  “Well, things started happenin’.” There he paused for a moment, looking skyward.

  “Be as honest and clear as you can, Mitchel. That’s always your best course with me,” Kitty said. Her voice went lower again, and she maintained strong eye contact with the man.

  “I heard how you spoke to those men in the cave. I heard you talkin’ to Abraham, then to Jacob, and finally that poor soul who was carried off in the flood.” He rested his palm against the butt of his revolver again, unconsciously. Kitty noticed and didn’t bother to react. “I don’t know what you are, exactly, but I know you ain't someone to be friendly with.” There he paused, seeming to realize how harsh his words were.

  “You’re a figure to be followed, don’t get me wrong,” Mitchell adjusted. “To be feared, even. Someone who will lead people to do great and terrible things, mayhap. But strange and fearful things happen around you. That giant back there caught a horse with three full grown people on it, in the middle of a biblical flood. Best I can tell, he didn’t even grunt at the effort.” There the marshal stopped, taking a shaky breath as he started rifling through his pockets for something. Producing his tobacco pouch seemed to upset him, and Kitty nodded with a dry chuckle as he squeezed the dirty water from it before sighing and shoving it back in a pocket. “I understand this world as best as I can, but that ain't sayin’ a hell of a lot right now. Things exist we can’t explain, and likely don’t want to meet. That man over there is one of ‘em, and he scares the daylights out of me.”

  “He scares me too Mitchel, but it’s better to have him on our side,” Kitty said carefully.

  “Yeah. Yeah it is.” Mitchel shook his head. “This is why I’m followin’ you, and why I’m callin’ you ma’am. My gut tells me it’s only gettin’ worse out here, and I’ll be swallowed up by it if I don’t attach myself to someone with fearful power.” He wiped his hand on the cleanest part of his shirt he could find, offering it. “I’ll be your soldier, ma’am. I’m afraid I can’t in good conscience be your friend at the same time is all.”

  Kitty stared at him, thinking for a second about the AI and how it was handling her. Then she shrugged, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. “Fair enough Mitchel, fair enough.” When he tried to pull his hand back, she gripped it tighter. “It will get worse. You’re more right about that than you know.” With that, she let him go. “Jacob in there sent word out, I have no doubt his intentions are ill for this town. Go get cleaned up, get a good meal, and get some rest. I’ll need you again in short order.”

  Mitchel nodded slowly, a mix of fear and grim determination settling into his features. “Yes ma’am.”

  A small wood and bronze plaque on the bank informed her that their doors would open bright and early at nine am, as expected. That information confirmed, she walked back down to the general store, cutting through a central alley that connected both main streets. A sign on the store’s new window informed her that they were closed for the evening but failed to relay when they would re-open.

  As Kitty sighed in frustration and turned to leave, the sound of a firearm’s hammer cocking could be heard from an upstairs window.

  Captain Levi leaned out, the beautiful double barrel from his wall cradled in his arms. “What you doin? Who’s that down there?”

  Raising her hands, Kitty stepped slowly out from under the shop’s awning into view. “Just me, Captain. Came back for that shotgun, as promised.”

  His long johns were dingy with age, but clean and free of stains. He pondered her presence for a moment, his chin moving as he chewed on the inside of his own cheek. “Shop’s closed.”

  “Even worse, I have no money. Just this bounty slip from the sheriff, I’ll have to get it cashed first thing.” She peered up at him, smiling as politely as she could. “I was just comin’ by to see if you had your hours posted, didn’t intend to disturb you.”

  He scowled, tucking the shotgun away inside. “Most days shop’s open ‘round nine am. I’ll keep her safe for you, not to fret.”

  “Thank you Captain, that’s all I ask.” She waved cheerily as she turned to head back to the saloon.

  He shouted one last time. “Take a bath, woman!” Then muttering as he moved to close his window. “Can smell you from here.”

  She smiled and nodded. When Kitty arrived back at the saloon, the barkeeper looked livid. She ignored his fierce gaze and took in the room. Kurt’s corpse was missing, probably having been collected by the undertaker already. She laughed when she saw his hat sitting in the middle of the poker table. Walking over, Kitty collected it and set the black felt on top of her own head, before returning to the bar to face the bartender.

  “Your bath is probably cold by now,” he said, barely containing his upset.

  “Thanks barkeep. I’ll need a room and meal as well; same triple rate applies to those under one condition.” Kitty ran a finger around the brim of her new hat, pleased with it.

  “What?” The bartender was getting more annoyed, but the allure of money was clearly his weakness.

  “I have to pay you tomorrow, first thing.” Kitty dug the bounty slip from her pocket and showed it to him. “Just have to see the bank about this, and you’ll get your due.”

  He fumed mildly for a moment, his face going through several different emotions before he sighed. “Fine. No more messes in my saloon though!”

  Raising her hands in surrender, Kitty nodded. “Your lips to God’s ears.”

  He scowled slightly. “Don’t be thinkin’ to mock me in my own establishment miss.”

  “I’m sorry, I honestly do not mean any disrespect. I’ve had me a bit of a day is all, and I’m exhausted. I get surly when I’m tired,” Kitty explained. She leaned against the bar heavily for emphasis.

  His eyes still narrowed, the bartender nodded and slid a key across the bar to her. “Room two, top of the stairs to the left.”

  As Kitty was about to thank him and head for the bath, a blood curdling scream sounded in the night air. She slumped with a groan, dragging herself off the stool and out the batwing doors. It was coming from the Sheriff’s office. As she approached at a jog, she noticed Abraham stationed beside the door and nodded at him while going inside. The building smelled like blood.

  Grace, the female prisoner, was tucked up against the far wall of her cell, on the floor beneath the window. She had her hands clamped over her ears and was rocking back and forth gently, humming tunelessly under her breath. A white bed sheet had been hung between the two cells, and it was spattered with blood from Jacob’s side.

  Kitty rushed to the cell just in time for Jacob to howl again, a surprisingly high pitched scream echoing through the building. He was thrashing and flailing, as the sheriff and Mitchel tried to hold him down while the doc sawed at his arm.

  “Abraham! We need you!” Kitty swung the door to the cell wide as the big man entered, ducking to fit under the door frame. “Get in here and hold him down!”

  Abraham approached and settled a single hand on Jacobs chest, pressing down lightly. He then thumped the writhing man with a knuckle in the side of the head, dazing him. The doc breathed a sigh of relief, setting down his tools as the struggling man went limp. Kitty took in the scene.

  Jacob appeared to be losing his broken arm.

  The doc wiped his hands with a clean towel, took a deep breath, and went back to work. “Hold this arm steady for me young lady.” When Kitty gripped Jacob’s arm, the doctor nodded.

  He had already cut strips into Jacob’s arm where he would need to fold over the excess skin to cover the future stump, but Jacob had started really resisting when he had picked up the saw. Now with Abraham holding him down, he could barely take a full breath, let alone thrash. Still, as the saw began to grind into his bone, Jacob turned to Kitty and gasped, “kill me. Just kill me.”

  Abraham thumped him on the head again, and Jacob’s mouth went slack. The doc grunted in exertion, and a wet tearing sound filled the small room. Grace whimpered next door. With a final grunt and push against the saw, the arm came free in Kitty’s hands, heavy and dripping. She dropped it in disgust.

  The doc busily sewed up the loose ends, forming a stump where Jacob’s arm used to be. Kitty checked him, lifting an eyelid, but it appeared that Jacob had logged out to avoid the worst of it. Kitty really couldn’t blame him, wiping the blood from her hands as she stood and tried not to see Abraham bundling up the arm into his satchel.

  “Dammit man, why’d this have to be done?” Kitty demanded. She loomed over the doctor as the sheriff and Mitchel panted in the corner.

  Doc Mitchell raised a single eyebrow, not looking away from his work sewing up Jacobs stump. “The breaks in that arm were killing him. Slowly and painfully.” He kept his voice measured, clearly used to upset patients. “He may have never even made it to the rope, and he’d have died in agony, beset by severe nausea, and fever induced hallucinations.” There he stopped his work, holding the needle tight against the still exposed bone. “Have you ever seen a condemned man walk the steps to the rope beset by demons from his own mind?”

  With a sniff he turned away, peering down the bridge of his nose at his work. “That’s a cruelty I cannot aspire to ma’am.”

  She stared at him while he spoke but made sure to watch his hands as he worked. Kitty made mental notes to improve her own speed and technique. His stitch-work was precise, and neat. He clearly wasn’t skimping just because his patient would be hung the following day. Kitty discovered that she respected this man and had been holding a grudge against him for turning her in, in another life.

  “I apologize,” Kitty said. She laid a hand gently on his shoulder. “What’s your name doc?”

  He sniffed. “Jonas.”

  “Dr. Jonas Mitchell. I like that, good name.” She leaned in close and whispered the next part. “Stay close to town the next few nights doc. Jacob’s got bad plans for this place; I can feel it.”

  His hand slipped, and he grit his teeth in frustration. Otherwise, he gave no indication that he had heard her at all. As she stood up straight again, Jacob’s piercing eyes caught her attention. He was back, staring directly at her and smiling, through obvious pain. Through sweat drops and tiny dried blood smears, he grinned directly at her.

  When he spoke, it was a hiss, through clenched teeth. “I. Hate. You.”

  Kitty’s eyebrow clenched on its own as she looked down at the man. After a moment, she turned to leave. “Don’t be a cynic Jacob.”

  On her way out, Kitty turned to look at Grace, still huddled in her cell. She walked over and placed both hands on the bars. “Grace? I’m so sorry you had to hear all of that.”

  The woman was crouched, rocking back and forth on the balls of her heels, hands firmly clamped over her ears as she stared up through the window at the now peaceful night sky. When Kitty spoke, Grace shuffled so that she didn’t have to see the other woman anymore and began humming frantically to herself.

  Kitty slumped, turning to leave. As she exited the sheriff’s office she turned and looked back at the woman in the cell. Grace was staring at her through her long dark hair, still rocking lightly and humming, her eyes wide but devoid of emotion. Kitty let the door close, cutting off the disturbing vision and turning to lean against the wall. Abraham joined her a moment later.

  “We should leave.” He spoke simply.

  “Yeah we probably should. What do you know that I don’t Abraham?” Kitty shook off the horrors of the sheriff’s office and focused on her new ally.

  “Jacob isn’t alone. He was part of a gang. A big gang. They wanted me to join.” Abraham shifted in his ruined vest, exposing his back to Kitty as he did. The man was covered in more scars than she was responsible for.

  “You need a new vest, big guy,” Kitty said. She sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know what I can do about Jacob. He hangs at noon, everyone else thinks we’ll be rid of him after that.”

  “Everyone else isn’t real,” Abraham said. He looked down at her severely. “We know death isn’t the end of a grudge.”

  Kitty scowled slightly. “Yeah, well said.” She sighed. “Well said. Only question now is what the hell do we do about it?”

  “Run.” With that, he leaned against the wall and seemed finished speaking.

  Kitty stepped down off the porch into the muddy street, snugging her new hat down more firmly. “Yeah, we might yet. You’ll stick with me if I don’t though, won’t you?” She turned to face him.

  “You are not prey.” He said it as if it answered her, and after a minute of thinking, she supposed it did.

  She entered the saloon again, ignoring the bartender as he moved straight through the building to the bathroom. Once unclothed and sunk into the lukewarm water, she started feeling better and better. A nice shiny green buff appeared, with the lower half of a charming face spreading its lips in a smile, a slight twinkle from the teeth finishing off the buff’s animation. Once all the mud and blood was scrubbed off, Kitty rose and dressed in a nice soft robe that had been left for her. Her clothing, apart from the new hat, was disgusting, so she left it on the floor and walked back into the saloon proper.

  The place was dead, both floors silent, and no one there to drink or play games of chance. The owner was on his hands and knees, scrubbing at the bloodstain Kurt had left.

  Kitty approached hesitantly. “Excuse me, sir?”

  “Yes?” He was clearly frustrated.

  “Sorry to pester, I just wanted to ask about a laundry service?” She wrapped the robe closer when he looked at her.

  “Yes, no problem. Just leave the clothes in the bathroom, I’ll get them over to the laundry and have them cleaned for you.” His face was softening.

  “Oh perfect, thank you so much! I’ll give you triple for that too, don’t worry.” She turned to go back into the bathroom and stopped when she heard his voice again.

  “No extra charge ma’am. I apologize for being rude earlier. You’ve had a tough night, go on up to bed and I’ll get your effects cared for.” He gave her a tight lipped but polite smile, before returning to his bloodstain.

  Once she had gathered her weapons and items from the bathroom, she climbed the steps to her room and locked the door behind herself. After checking the room out and finding it rather dull and homely, she flopped into the bed and focused on her HUD again. Once it was present, she reached for the top right corner with her mind and focused hard on the tiny x icon there. A screen flashed up at her.

  “You are located in a safe place. Logging out will remove your character from the game until your return. Would you like to log out?”

  Focusing on the yes button did the trick, and the Ural’s Sum master bedroom swam back into her senses. She took a deep shaking breath and sat up, pulling the plug from the side of her skull as she went to find Mitchel. No, Deacon.

  “Well, that’s not a good sign,” Kitty sighed as she moved through the hallways of the yacht toward the bridge.

  is this right?