Guns of Perdition

by Jessica Bakkers

  “You know nothing!” Ruby hissed. “You have no idea what it was like to be bought and beaten, starved and whipped. To be a pute!”

  Grace shook her head and took a step down one whiskey-soaked step. She approached Ruby like she would an unbroken mare. “Easy...just breathe...”

  Ruby arched her back and gritted her teeth. “You’ve no idea what they did to me!”

  “Ruby! Wait! You cain’t play his game! It’s what he wants!”

  Tears rolled down Ruby’s cheeks as she struck the three matches against the box.

  Jessie and Tokota edged toward her. Outside the semicircle of fire, Temerity’s townsfolk had taken up a wailing dirge.

  “For all the hurts,” Ruby whispered as she held the flickering matches. “For all the indignities.” An errant breeze caught the matches and they sputtered but remained lit.

  “Ruby, no!” Grace shouted.

  “For him.”

  Jessie and Tokota dove. The matches slipped through Ruby’s fingers. They fell onto the pool of firewater and the flames licked the purple alcohol. A whoosh burst from the puddle as flames roared along the firewater path. Grace dove off the porch as the steps caught fire. The faces of the whores peering through the double doors twisted in horror. They started to transform as the wall of fire slammed into La Chatte Affamee. Where the whores could not penetrate Tokota’s warding, the flames showed no hesitation. The flames snaked across the porch, poured in through the door, and woofed as they licked satin, silk, and velvet. The costly materials that adorned the brothel—and its girls—caught mercilessly aflame, and as the whores shrieked and dashed about, the devastating flames spread and grew.

  Jessie numbly bent and helped Ruby to her feet as engulfing heat rolled over them.

  Grace flopped onto her back and stared at the brothel. Orange tongues of fire licked out the windows as glass shattered beneath the intense heat. Ear-piercing screams of agony rent the night as the whores burned in the conflagration. Tokota dug his hands under Grace’s arms and helped her to her feet. The radiant heat from the burning building pounded them into retreat.

  Tokota and Grace pressed against the nervous horses and the haycart, and stared agog at the great, glowing fire that consumed La Chatte Affamee. Grace turned and caught Jessie’s eye. In his arms, he held the madame of the burning brothel, whose gaze was fixed on the flames. The gold flecks in her eyes were illuminated by the flames, and for one brief moment, she looked as hell spawned as the burning whores within.

  The semicircle of flames surrounding the small group gutted out as though unwilling to be overshadowed by the conflagration. Richmond eyed the folk beyond the circle and waved his gun but needn’t have bothered. The would-be protectors of La Chatte Affamee had sunk to their knees as the building went up, and wept tears of black sludge down their despairing faces.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Jessie patted Kaga’s head and smiled when the wolf groaned.

  “Yeah, I know. It stinks to be riding in the cart. But you ain’t yet healed, friend. Better to ride than bust open those wounds.”

  Kaga’s head sank on the cart and he fixed his gaze on Jessie. The lad clambered from the cart and strolled to his gelding. Paul stirred, ill at ease at being harnessed to the cart. Jessie stroked the gelding and clucked reassuringly. He eyed Tokota’s russet stallion, who stood at Paul’s side. Uzeblikblik’s nearness was probably adding to Paul’s unease. Crowbait also stood nearby and glowered at anyone who came close to her...anyone but her mistress.

  Jessie shook his head and turned back to the haycart. He climbed back aboard and twisted around to peer at Kaga. He nodded, satisfied Kaga was settled in and comfortable. The big wolf would survive his awful wound after all. Less could be said for the town of Temerity.

  Where once stood a grand, vivacious building, now lay a black scorch of ruined debris and burnt timber. A thriving population of hard-working women was coming to terms with nursing their grieving menfolk. The men themselves were free of the shackles woven into their blood by the whores of La Chatte Affamee, but most had succumbed to white-hot grief at the loss of the brothel. Edna Spelts, who kept a sound ear tuned to local gossip, had already passed on stories of the poor unfortunates who’d fallen on hoe or pitchfork, unable to bear life without the ladies of the Affamee. Others had withdrawn into mere shadows of the men they’d been previously; they lay atop their beds and moaned and keened and rent their clothes in anguish. A handful seemed to shake off the despair and return to some semblance of life.

  Jessie gazed over the smoking ashes of the once grand building and shook his head. He still wasn’t sure whether burning down the brothel with the girls trapped inside had been the right thing to do. Shades of Whitestand Hollow kept coming to mind. There, a whole town had perished in blood and flame—the guilty and innocent alike. Here, the girls had burned, at the same time both guilty and innocent, yet their deaths had freed the entire town from their gris-gris. Surely that was a good result?

  So why did his stomach feel like he’d swallowed a lead plumb?

  Tokota had brushed away the lad’s concerns with a brusque hand. “They were sica. Demons,” he’d said matter-of-factly. Black and white.

  Yet Jessie couldn’t forget the night he and Grace had faced down a pack of chupacabras and she’d demurred instead of taking a killing shot. There’s demons, then there’s demons.

  Jessie wrenched his gaze from the smoldering ruins and turned to Grace as though searching for the answer on her hard face. He needn’t have bothered. Atop Crowbait, she sat like a statue carved of marble, as closed off and tight-lipped about the events here in Temerity as she was about everything else. How she really felt was anybody’s guess. Sure, she’d tried to stop the girls being roasted, but Jessie had an inkling that was more to do with placating him than out of any genuine concern for the girls. An apology of sorts...for Whitestand Hollow...and Bess.

  Yet at the end of the day, Temerity was alive, despite Jessie’s concerns whether that was a good thing or not. He shifted on the hard wooden platform and balanced his journal on his knee. He looked down at the words he’d written earlier, the whole sad, sorry story, and put pencil to paper once again.

  Here his presence lingers strong. Temerity is his town. And we ride now at his behest, yet again, into whatever trap he has laid in Death Valley.

  Jessie hadn’t been alone in voicing his concern about riding into a place named Death Valley. When Grace showed them the note left by the Darksome Gunman, Tokota had growled and declared he’d had enough of playing his game. Kaga had remained impassive and said nothing one way or the other. Grace herself seemed to vacillate, perhaps finally tired of dancing to his tune. It had been Ruby who’d decided their course of action.

  “You complain of playing his game and cower when he holds all the cards, but what choice have you got but to play his game and maybe, just maybe, learn to beat him at it.”

  With those words, any debate was null and void. Kaga had voiced his displeasure but said he would follow Grace to Hell and back if that was what it would take to confront the Gunman. Tokota had kept his opinions to himself. Grace had asked Ruby if she meant to ride with them. Ruby had stared Grace in the eyes and coolly declared, “I have my own score to settle with your Darksome Gunman. And I mean to settle it.”

  Jessie shivered at the memory of the madame’s flat, expressionless eyes.

  As confused as he was about the whores of La Chatte Affamee dying in the unholy conflagration, he was doubly mystified where the woman who’d lit the blaze was concerned. Gone was the seductive queen of silks and sighs, and Jessie only now realized that had never been Ruby from the start. Not the real Ruby.

  She’d conquered her demons with the lighting of that cleansing fire, though if her words were right about playing his game, a part of Jessie wondered if all she’d succeeded in doing was to play the hand he’d already dealt her. The whores’ lives meant nothing to the Darksome Gunman—that was evident in his treatment of Mozelle. So did
it really matter that Ruby had stood up to him, thrown off his shackles, and freed herself? Or had that been his play all along?

  The hairs on Jessie’s neck stood up at that sobering thought, and he shivered despite the warmth of the overhead sun.

  They sat on the outskirts of Temerity, Grace and Tokota saddled and ready, Kaga in his makeshift bed, and Jessie perched beside him. They’d bid farewell to Richmond and Minnie, who were headed back to Pennsylvania to try to salvage their marriage and reconcile the horrors they’d endured in Temerity. Jessie privately wished them well but doubted they’d ever be the same again. At least they were headed to Pennsylvania, not Death Valley. He looked down at his spidery handwriting and hesitated before adding, Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.

  “Because I got Grace and Crowbait, Tokota and Uzeblikblik—” Jessie ceased muttering as his breath hitched in his throat. The pencil slipped from his nerveless fingers as Ruby cantered toward them. Grace turned in her saddle and her expression darkened. Ruby rode toward them on a stunning, white horse who glowed with ethereal beauty. Her silver saddle jingled, and she moved with a graceful stride.

  There was no doubting it. Ruby sat astride the Darksome Gunman’s horse.

  “Where the Hell did you get that nag?” Grace asked.

  Ruby reined in and met Grace’s fierce glare. “A gift.”

  Tokota snorted.

  Grace echoed his sentiment. “From your best customer, eh?”

  Ruby’s face flushed and her green eyes narrowed. “What are you implying?”

  Grace leaned forward in her saddle. “We all know whose horse that is. Did you part them pretty thighs before or after the bonfire to get it?”

  “Salope! You vicious, hateful—”

  “Please, stop,” Jessie said.

  Ruby’s curse died on her lips, though her hot gaze fixed on Grace.

  Grace was red-faced, and a vein throbbed in her temple.

  Jessie sighed, exhaustion sapping his strength. He gripped his journal and said, “Grace, don’t you remember how you came upon Crowbait? And you, Tokota. Didn’t you find Uzeblikblik after meeting him the first time? Might be this is the same.”

  “What’s your point, boy?” Grace said. Her shoulders were tense, and Jessie didn’t feel it was the time to correct her on the use of boy.

  “Maybe it’s part of his game or maybe it’s, I don’t know...meant to be.”

  Silence descended in the wake of Jessie’s words.

  “Well, just so long as she can keep up on that dandified mule,” Grace said, her nose wrinkling.

  Ruby scowled and flicked the reins. The white mare streaked forward, cut between Tokota and Grace, and nipped at Crowbait’s withers.

  Ruby smirked. “You have nothing to fear where Lumière is concerned.”

  “Lumy what?” Jessie muttered.

  “Lumière,” Ruby said, the fancy word rolling off her tongue.

  “Means light. Or bright, or some such guff,” Grace said, spitting on the ground to show what she thought of the name.

  Ruby’s brows furrowed. “A pretty name for a pretty horse, which is more than I can say for your own Buzzardbait.”

  “That’s Crowbait,” Grace said.

  Ruby laughed and set off at a blistering pace. Tokota shook his head and urged his stallion into a trot, his Sharps rifle catching the light as it nestled against his back.

  Grace patted Crowbait and scowled. “Don’t get your gander up, Crowbait. She ain’t nothing but a four-flusher.” She coaxed the mare into a trot. “C’mon, Jessie. Got some miles to cut up before sunset.”

  Jessie nodded and shifted on the platform. He absently scooped up Paul’s reins. It would be an interesting ride, no doubt. He watched the three riders, and a chill sluiced through him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. The words in his journal seemed to jump off the page at him, I will fear no evil.

  His past came flooding back. Nights spent hunched over a dusty old bible, memorizing passage after passage so he could repeat it verbatim. Standing before his father, terrified of getting it wrong. Repeating the words, repeating the passages, not understanding them but repeating them anyway.

  “And I saw, and behold a white horse: and he that sat on him had a bow; and a crown was given unto him: and he went forth conquering, and to conquer.”

  Paul’s ears twitched at the sound of Jessie’s whispered words.

  “And there went out another horse that was red: and power was given to him that sat thereon to take peace from the earth, and that they should kill one another: and there was given unto him a great sword.”

  Kaga whined in the cart behind him. Jessie paid the wolf no mind. His gaze was fixed on Grace as she rode off on her pallid Crowbait.

  Through numb lips, Jessie spoke. “And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him.”

  Jessie gripped Paul’s reins with white-knuckled fervor. “Dear God, Paul. We’re riding to Death Valley to find the Fourth Horseman of the Apocalypse.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Jessie thought he knew hot, arid conditions. He’d grown up on the great western frontier; dust was a day-to-day reality, and eating grit with every meal was a fact of life. As Paul plodded down dusty dunes and sand blew in Jessie’s face, he realized he knew nothing about life in the desert. The journey from Louisiana to Texas had seen the landscape change as each mile slipped beneath their horses’ hooves. Lush greenery gave way to coarse yellow grass, then to hard, dusty earth. The farther west they traveled, the more the temperature increased. Tokota and Grace weathered the dry conditions stoically, but Jessie and Ruby complained.

  Atop her white palfrey, Ruby moaned about the dust that scoured her skin, the heat that frazzled her hair, and the dirt that clung to her pores. Her complaints muted to irritated muttering after Grace threatened to bury the ex-madame beneath the hot, red clay.

  Jessie mutinied in a subtler manner. He moped and sighed often enough to make his feelings well known. When night fell and the desert cold closed in, he withdrew to his tent and left the others to their chatter by the campfire. He caught Grace’s concerned glance more than once but offered her no explanation for his antisocial behavior. He hoped she’d put it down to weariness and leave him be. The last thing he wanted was to explain he simply didn’t know how to converse with her anymore. Not since his discovery as to her true nature, a discovery she had yet to make herself.

  Jessie’s gaze drifted across Grace’s rigid back as she rode Crowbait. She looked so ordinary in her dusty riding leathers, her body jouncing in rhythm to the nag’s measured gait. With her Winchester sticking out of its holder behind her and twin guns Justice and Mercy on her hips, she could’ve passed for any desperado or longrider out on the trail.

  She certainly didn’t look like the embodiment of Death.

  Jessie shivered and wrenched his gaze from her back. Tokota’s and Ruby’s identities sat easier with him. Somehow, the dour native warrior seemed well suited to his role as the Horseman of War. It didn’t take much for Jessie to imagine Tokota wielding a flaming sword and commanding hordes into war. Nor did Ruby, bedraggled as she was by the persistent desert heat, seem out of character on the back of Lumière, her unearthly white palfrey. Jessie truly believed anyone caught in her commanding emerald stare would fall conquered at her feet. But Grace stymied him. She shouldn’t; after all, he’d seen her bring down death on the deserving and the innocent alike. He’d seen her wield her guns like a proverbial scythe with merciless accuracy. But he’d also seen the soul beneath her hard veneer. He’d seen her vulnerability, her hesitancy, her humanity. How could she possibly be the Horseman of Death? How could she be one of the Four Horsemen who heralded Judgement Day—the end times. An instrument of divine retribution and justice. Jessie choked as he thought of what she’d named her revolvers, Justice and Mercy.

  He was shaken from his reverie by a protesting whinny from Crowbait. He
raised his eyes as Grace reined up. He urged Paul alongside her and followed her gaze.

  A sharp mountainous formation jutted into the sky like a crooked hand. At the base of the rocky mountain, spread between red sand and yellow grass sat a small collection of wooden buildings and stunted trees. Someone had seen fit to settle a town in the middle of this inhospitable nowhere. Jessie frowned as he scanned the landscape for water. If there were any creeks nearby, they’d long since dried up.

  “Only white men would be foolish enough to pick such a place to live. No water. No vegetation. No animal trails,” Tokota said.

  Grace snorted and waved her hand at the mountain. “Yeah, but I bet coppers to biscuits them mountains got gold. Don’t need water if you can just buy it in.”

  Tokota’s lips thinned as he tugged Uzeblikblik’s reins. The russet stallion pawed the ground.

  Ruby sighed and fanned her hand in front of her face. “Mais I don’t care if they have all the gold in the West. As long as they have a bath and some bourbon, I’m happy to call it home.”

  Grace frowned. “Well, if this here burg is Barren Banks, don’t be getting too cozy. All we know about the place is he sent us here.”

  At Grace’s cool words, Ruby’s expression darkened and she jerked the reins. Lumière turned in response and nickered. Jessie frowned and wondered if the horse was secretly pleased to be following the path laid out for them by the Darksome Gunman. She was, after all, his old nag. He shivered despite the heat of the day and mused on what he’d be doing today if he’d never come out of the storeroom to clean up after Clinton Cottonmouth Cross that day in the Bad Hoss Saloon. He slumped in his saddle as dark thoughts plagued him. Something wet touched his dangling fingers and he jerked in shock. He looked down and a small smile crossed his lips. Kaga gazed up at him and licked his fingers again.

  “Well, there’s no point sitting ’round here speculating. Let’s get and see what we see,” Grace said.