“Look, Bonnie, we have to go—”
“Are you stupid?” I asked bluntly, watching the muscle in his jaw flex with the force of his clenched teeth. “You can’t just leave; he’s probably watching that entrance.” I opened my pack and tried to check a list of essentials in my mind. Compass. Map. Flask. Med kit. Rations. My hand wrapped around the cool metal of the M9 at the bottom.
A beretta, military issue from before the Culling. Much deadlier than the dainty Selene I’d entrusted Jesse with. Selene could scare people, but she wasn’t much use in a firefight. This gun had seen deserts around the world and still looked like sleek, black death. I chambered a bullet with a noticeable clack, clack and tucked it into my waistband. I tried not to overthink why having it on me spread warmth to my fingers and stilled the slight tremor in my hand.
“We’re just going to take our chances on the main road. I mean, he wasn’t looking for us, anyway.” Jesse said, eyeing the new weapon warily. I rolled my eyes and tossed my hair over one shoulder.
“Kid, did you hear the dumb shit your brother just said?” I asked, turning my attention to the rapt ten-year-old who’d been watching my every action obsessively. “Repeat after me: Never. Take. The. Main. Road.” I punctuated each word as Jesse’s glare hardened. I swung my head back in his direction with a mocking smile. “Besides the fact that there are three gangs operating out of the strip who monitor the main roads for easy marks, like you, that Crimson Fist goon saw you with me on the street. You won’t make it out of Vegas alive if you do that.”
He bit his lip, hard, with the force of shackling the unkind words in his furious eyes. Maybe part of me just really wanted to see the sanctimonious farm boy shed his saintly manners. I sighed and put a hand on his chest before I even thought about it. It was just like in the alleyway. A shock of desire thudded into me like a hammer at the contact.
“I can admit,” I said begrudgingly, “that I might have been wrong about you.” I dropped my hand from his chest and lowered onto my knee in front of the kid, unhooking the knife from my belt. He scoffed behind me.
“I figure I was right about you.” His words were hard and stung more than they should have. A tense silence descended between us before his voice broke through. “If we can’t go out the front or on the main roads, how are we supposed to get out of here?” I snapped the knife onto the kid’s belt. His eyes brightened with the small act of trust. I stood tall, shaking off the biting insult.
“Kid?” I asked, eyes trained on Jesse. The kid squeaked in response, startled by being called into the conversation. I held my hand out to him. “Give me the leaking canteen.” He fumbled with the strap around his chest and shoved it over his head, handing over a canteen with a leak high up on it. The metal was too bent and compromised to mend, so I tossed it across the room into a barrel Murph used as a garbage container. Jesse made a strangled noise and lurched towards the steel barrel.
“Leave it,” I said as his furious blue eyes blazed at me from across the room. “I have a better one to replace it with.”
“Why would you do that?” He crossed his arms over his chest in defiance.
“Because I’m taking you with me.”
His eyebrows rose so high they disappeared into his sandy hair. Heat crept up my neck as I remembered how his lips had felt on my skin. “Or you're taking me with you. Either way, we’re sticking together and getting the fuck outta Vegas. How’s that sound?” His arms dropped noncommittally to his sides, and he let out an aggravated sigh I took to mean he was on board with the plan. However begrudgingly.
“Murph! Beck!” I called again, turning back towards the bar, where they were gathering as many supplies as they could possibly give. It was too much. Beck walked forward with tears in her eyes.
“Please don’t leave again, Bonnie,” she said, sniffling and wrapping her arms around me in a crushing embrace. I twisted myself out of her grasp a moment later, no good with the sentimental stuff.
“Here, it’s not much. I’ll pay you back for the water rations somehow,” I said, pressing the few brass bits into her hand and digging in my pack for a wad of crumpled ration coupons. Not nearly as many as she’d sacrificed for me. Taking the extra pack Murph handed to me, I began to stuff supplies in. As many as I thought Jesse could feasibly carry.
“Keep out of sight until he comes after me, a week or two at least.” My words were directed at Murph, who nodded solemnly.
“I owe you, my li—"
I cut her off. “You don’t owe me anything.” Beck got overly emotional at times. “The supplies are enough.”
I handed the loaded pack to Jesse. It was infuriating to see how easily he slung it over one shoulder and carried the load. She began to cry softly, wiping at her cheeks as I ignored her sorrow. Jesse’s eyebrows knit together, trying to reconcile Beck’s attachment to me, or maybe my cold, disaffected attitude. Either way, I was leaving, and I wouldn’t be looking back. I never looked back.
True to my word, a moment later I handed Jesse a full canteen. This one, leak free. He looked at it before securing it to his new pack with an odd expression on his face. There was an echo of the attraction from that alleyway in his eyes now. As if he saw the mirage instead of the woman for a moment before it fell away again and he remembered he hated me.
“Why did you rob me when you have all these supplies?” he asked, but I had no intention of answering that question. I gave him a disarming grin and pulled the M9 out from my waistband.
“You ready?”
He held up Selene unenthusiastically and followed me out through the kitchen to the back door. The kid was between us, smiling so wide it was a wonder his face didn’t break in half. I cleared the area, the M9 held confidently in front of me as we exited into an alleyway, not unlike our alleyway from earlier. I wanted to spare a quick glance at Jesse but decided it was probably better if I didn’t. As we crossed the alleyway, I looked down at the kid and really assessed him for the first time. He was pretty young to have already had a run-in with a guy like Sixgun.
“Hey, kid, you scared?” I asked him, hoping he was tougher than he’d looked earlier today. He shook his head but wouldn’t meet my eyes. I stopped and pulled his chin up until he was forced to look at me dead-on.
“Is that man going to hurt Jesse?” he asked. His eyes were wide and more innocent than I’d ever been. An ache for the little girl I was so long ago started throbbing in my chest. I lowered myself to his level again and stared him down. Kids appreciate honesty, or at least I used to when I was one.
“No one is gonna hurt you or Jesse, not while I’m around. Got it?” I said. He nodded, looking more sure of himself already. Standing back up I took a moment to adjust the strap on my pack and beat the ravenous memories away before they swallowed me whole. I didn’t have time to get distracted by things I couldn’t change.
“You get scared, grip the handle of that knife. When we get outta here, I’ll show you how to shoot a gun so you won’t ever be scared again,” I promised. His smile was blinding.
It’d worked well enough for me anyway.
“Where are we going, Bonnie?” Jesse said, his oddly calming voice grounding me to the moment. He said my name a lot now that he knew it. As if he were testing it out on his tongue. I wouldn’t admit how much I liked that.
“To get horses,” I said, my voice clipped.
“Well, where are the horses?” he retorted, just as clipped.
“Close,” I said, smiling at him. The attraction I’d felt for him earlier in the alleyway hadn’t subsided as I’d thought it might. In fact, the more time I spent with him, the stronger it grew. Maybe if he was lucky, I’d give him a roll in the hay before sending him off into the sunset. Glancing over and watching him glower at Selene, I decided probably not.
“Harry’s not going anywhere until I know what we’re walking into,” he said, the stern expression out of place on his handsome face. My brows furrowed deep as I looked over the kid. He had a uniquely sunny disposition,
oppositional to my own, but he definitely didn’t look like a Harry.
“What kind of name is that for a kid?” I asked, unable to mask the disgust in my tone. “I’m sticking with ‘The Kid.’” I blew a wayward strand of hair from my eyes before motioning towards where the alley met the street. It was busy, but the congestion of people had slowed considerably from earlier. Still, a few men milled about, their conversation too muffled to make out. We’d be more visible in the open.
“The stables are just there.” I pointed to the building. From the front it didn’t look like much: a large sliding door that was more rust than aluminum at this point and the hint of a faded number seven. Ironic, as it didn’t seem that the place had been particularly lucky.
“How are we getting these horses?” Jesse asked, his tone pointed. I scowled in his direction and shrugged.
“You could just try to outrun Sixgun on foot instead, since you don’t like my plan,” I said, too sweetly. He didn’t respond.
“Well?” I asked, taking sick pleasure in watching him run frustrated hands through that sandy hair of his. Briefly I wondered what he would do if I ran my fingers through his sun streaked locks. Stamping down the distracting thoughts, I refocused on our goal. He waved me forward, the gesture overly wide and sarcastic. It was time to get the fuck out of Dodge before my past caught up with me.
My hands were sweaty, and I wiped them on my shorts. Running every scenario through in my mind, I shifted my weight on my feet somewhat nervously. Jesse fiddled with a ring on his finger, and I could tell he felt it too. A sweet tension in the air indicating that danger was present. Without any indication, we both leapt into action at the same time, rushing forward through the busy street and dodging wagons and large groups, The Kid dragged behind Jesse by a hard grip the former had on his little arm. In no time at all, we burst through the door, and I swung it shut, flicking the lock closed before facing the blustery face of the heavyset man behind the counter.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, bustin’ in here like that!” he shouted, his face ruddier the more he yelled. A brief touch to Jesse’s forearm was all it took for him to understand my simple command. Wait here, I’ll take care of this. He just held The Kid back with an outstretched arm as I turned to the man behind the counter, a familiar swing to my steps that showed off my hips as I approached. I bit my bottom lip and settled a pouty expression on my face as I leaned over the counter, letting him get a good, long look down my top.
The idiot liked the view so much, it was easy enough to pull the M9 from my waistband and press it to his temple. He made a startled sound that was something between a squeak and a wail but reminded me distinctly of a squalling piglet. I brought my face close to his, eyes hard, and spoke softly as if I were trying to ease his worries.
“I know who you’ve been selling to,” I said, watching his eyes widen in horror.
“I-it’s you! From the posters,” he stammered, recognition settling into the corners of his scowl. My smile was eerily detached; it was sick how much I liked the fear on his face.
“If I hear that you’ve sold so much as a horseshoe to the slavers again, you’ll wish I killed you. Got it?”
He nodded furiously, but I didn’t trust anyone, much less a piece of shit like this guy. I brought my gun down hard, the satisfying thud against his skull reverberating up my arm. He crashed to the straw-covered floor, his mass of flesh jiggling before he lay still, conveniently hidden from view behind the counter. Jesse and The Kid stared at me, scandalized.
“What?” I asked defensively. “You act like this should be a surprise or something.”
Jesse chuckled, as if he saw me clearly now. Shame like thick smoke swirled around my skin. Instead of responding, I turned towards the rows of stables and began to look through the horses. They were all the finest quality, well-fed, long-limbed, energetic. Satisfaction pulsed deep as I thought about stealing from this man who equipped slavers in the area. I tossed my pack to the dusty floor at my feet, assessing the options. We’d need horses that were fast, but more importantly, horses used to desert conditions. Then I spied her, tossing her head defiantly in her stall. A gray paint mare who danced on her feet as I approached. She had a wildness inside of her that I admired immediately.
I stared her down for a moment, and she came closer, shoving her nose into my hand and demanding a scratch. Just like that, she was mine. I pressed my face into her neck and let her nuzzle me, drinking in the warm animal scent of her. She started prancing again, and I knew what she wanted right away. To stretch those long legs out across the open desert. The same desire passed through me, to be out of this suffocating city and rushing across the vastness of the world.
“Can I name her?” The Kid asked beside me, though I wasn’t sure when he’d gotten there. I stepped back to find her tack, allowing him to stroke her long muzzle.
“Sure,” I said, forcing myself not to smile. “But it’ll have to wait until we’re on our way.” He nodded, not paying attention to me at all. I couldn’t blame him for being fascinated by the mustang. She was beautiful. He wandered down the stalls for a while, staring at the horses in each one before returning to his brother’s side.
“What about the other ones?” he asked. Jesse ignored him and kept gathering the tack he would need.
“Jesse, what about the other horses?” He tried again. “Jesse!”
“Not now, Harry. Just let me finish this,” Jesse snapped, frustrated. The Kid grumbled before crossing to me. I paused and gave him my full attention as he reached my side.
“What about the rest of them?” he asked, and I looked down the long rows of horses. Some stamping impatiently, others nickering or tossing their heads. All of them, like my mustang, caged against their will and longing to be set free. I breathed out an ironic laugh. I guess sometimes it took a precocious kid saying something obvious to see what was right in front of you.
“You’re a genius, Kid. You know that?” I asked, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Start unlocking the stall doors while I tack this one. We’ll use their escape as a distraction.” He grinned wide, running to the end of the row and beginning to unlock stable doors as quick as his feet would carry him. Leading my mustang out of her stall, I started saddling her, my movements mechanical. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Jesse doing the same.
The stallion he chose was a rust color, nearly four hands higher than mine. A massive creature that I worried may not fare well in the harsh climate, but I held my tongue. The corded muscles along his flank shifted with his movement, glinting like copper in the scant light. My hands fumbled as I tightened my pack down on the back of the saddle. We needed to leave. The stablemaster wouldn’t be incapacitated for long. The thought of Sixgun closing in sent adrenaline racing through my veins, forcing a jittery clumsiness into my movements.
I mounted quickly, leading the mustang towards the metal door Jesse wrenched open. I’d carefully averted my eyes from the muscles bunching and straining against his shirt as he’d done it. Horses spilled into the street, galloping in every direction. Surprised shouting rose louder with each horse that galloped into the streets; people scrambled out of the way of the stampede. We made our escape in the ensuing chaos.
The silence between us was deafening as I led them through the twisting alleys and back roads. We ducked our heads anytime we came close to the main road. Jesse kept his mount close enough to mine that our legs brushed when the alleys grew too narrow. Time stretched thin, and my heart pounded with every corner we rounded. What had been only the matter of a few hours seemed infinitely long with the threat of death hanging over us.
My first deep lungful of air came as soon as we cleared the congestion of the city and made our way into the red sands of the desert beyond. A dry, dust-laden breath grounded me in ways I hadn’t begun to analyze. I clicked my tongue and dug in my heels as a wild grin unfurled on my mouth and I let my horse run loose over the hard-packed earth.
Elation thrummed through me th
e farther we got from the dilapidated city and the people who lived there. Unlike most, I didn’t fear the open desert. It welcomed me like an old friend, enticing me further. The arid air whipped my hair into knots and tangles that would be hell to work through tonight, but I didn’t care. I knew how to stay alive out here, and the farther I got from that city, the surer I was that I would survive another day.
It was a long time before we slowed, though I’m sure my horse would’ve gladly kept up the pace. Bone-deep weariness took hold of me, as if I were a wet rag that’d been wrung dry. The sun dipped low toward the horizon, setting the land ablaze in a wash of vibrant red and purple light. Before long, it would be too dark to see, so I slowed my mount and found high ground to make camp. The Kid’s eyes were half-lidded as he swung down from Jesse’s horse. The temperature began to dip, but soon it would plunge down to a cold that could seep through your skin if you let it.
We were all so spent that we didn’t talk about how to set up camp, instead just working together with stiff motions caused by sore muscles from the long ride. I built the fire, blowing the ember until it caught in my hands and feeding it until it became a flickering furnace to beat back the chill in the air.
Jesse and The Kid began unwrapping rations to eat. Meanwhile, I rolled out my bedroll and took stock of our supplies so far. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, my mind wandered to memories I’d rather keep buried. They clawed at me, sharp and dangerous, threatening to shatter my self-control. I needed to keep busy and distracted in order to keep ahead of them. Usually I beat my demons back with the mindlessness of alcohol and sex. I didn’t have enough whiskey to drown the darkness raging inside of me.
When I had nothing left to do, I allowed myself to look over the campfire at Jesse. The firelight made shapes and shadows flicker in angles of his face. He really was chiseled perfection. I wondered again why he did it. Why had he lied for me in the bar? I pulled my flask out of my bag and unscrewed the cap, taking a long pull and relishing the comforting burn of the whiskey, greeting me like an old friend. It slid down too easy, the burn settling into my blood and warming me from within.
Guns & Smoke Page 4
