Guns & Smoke

by Lauren Sevier

  The train workers shouted last call.

  “We need to go,” I barked over my shoulder. I grabbed her hand and turned to run for it. A sharp pain exploded behind my knee. I stumbled, nearly knocking Bonnie over. When I turned, the man smiled. Blood flowed freely from his mouth, spilling over onto his ochre skin. When he grinned, his teeth were stained red. A shiver ran down my back.

  “Who’s this?” he asked, advancing with the knife in hand.

  I cursed myself for forgetting my shotgun.

  “Bonnie got herself a boyfriend, huh?” The man lunged at me. I was faster. I batted his arm away, grabbed him by the head, and ran him face-first into a thick, metal flag pole. The man staggered, glaring at me as he grasped his bearings. Was he some kind of superhuman? I couldn’t believe that after two blows to the head, he was still standing.

  “That the best you got?” he shouted, blood spackling my face.

  Bonnie grabbed my arm, trying to pull me away. I turned to her, distracted long enough for the man to slice my leg with his knife. I hissed in a sharp breath. While he smiled, I brought my other leg up, kicking him in the gut. He fell flat on his back. I knelt into his chest and punched him in the eye. Then I lifted my other fist and punched him in the other eye.

  I didn’t consider myself an angry person. I rarely lost control. But it’d be a lie if I said I didn’t enjoy the crush of his face beneath my hands. I hadn’t suffered through a thousand miles of wilderness, dehydration, and damn near starvation for this man to take away our chance at making it safely to Roswell.

  “Jesse! Stop!” Bonnie’s voice cut through the noise raging in my head. She grabbed me, holding me back from delivering the next blow. My knuckles were covered in blood, some his, some mine. I could feel the sharp sting of the cuts on my hands and leg.

  “Time to go,” Bonnie said. Her blue eyes were sharp on mine, and I couldn’t read the emotion behind them.

  “Right,” I said, standing. The guy remained sprawled out on the ground. He laughed.

  “We need to go. Now.” Bonnie grabbed my arm, yanking me away.

  The train was already moving, picking up speed with each second. People stared at us from the windows, watching as we raced alongside the train.

  “Who was that guy?” I shouted breathlessly.

  “Faster!” she screamed, out of breath and incredulous at the same time.

  I tried my damndest. I might be able to make it, but Bonnie, I wasn’t sure. When faced with a choice between getting on the train with Harry or staying behind with her, I didn’t want to fathom it. Harry absolutely needed me, but we needed Bonnie. My muscles screamed as I sped up, somehow managing to grab the handle on the side of the car and climb up. Bonnie wasn’t as fast as me. I’d known since I’d chased her out of that alleyway. Bracing myself inside the cargo car door, I leaned out, extending my arm to her.

  “Grab on!” I shouted. She ran, staring up at me. For a second, I thought she might let us go and remain behind. That she would rather stay behind with that madman than come with us. Fear shot through me. I didn’t know what I was doing in the desert. I needed her. My brother needed her. I couldn’t leave her. I didn’t in Vegas, and I wouldn’t now. The air whipped past as the train gathered more speed.

  “Damnit, Bonnie, trust me! I’ve got you!” I screamed. My eyes pleaded with her. While it was tenuous at first, I trusted her now. I needed her to trust me back.

  A second later, her small hand fit in mine, and I yanked, using my entire weight to pull her into the car. We tumbled together, eventually coming to rest against some metal crates. Chests heaving, both of us out of breath and no doubt coming down from a high, I looked at her.

  “That was fun,” I breathed, chest rising and falling in heaves.

  Bonnie’s eyes were wild. I wished I knew what was going through her mind, because in the next second, she laughed. It was a booming sound that came all the way from her belly. Reality sank in that we could have died jumping onto a moving train, and then I burst into laughter. How had my life become so crazy since Bonnie walked into it? She exhaled loudly, an attempt to compose herself, but it failed. As soon as our eyes met, we burst into another round of roaring hysterics.

  “You’re insane,” she finally said.

  “Me? None of this started until you came along,” I shot back. Both of us remained flat on the floor.

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Bonnie said, groaning as she sat up.

  Finally, I turned my attention to Harry and Quanah, who looked at us like we were crazy.

  “What?” I asked, unable to stop the grin from creeping over my face. Harry’s eyes lit up, and his mouth hung open, as though he wanted to say several things but couldn’t form the words.

  “That was a nice right hook,” Bonnie said, respect in her eyes.

  “You know, fighting bears and all.”

  That sent us into another fit of chuckles.

  Over the noise, Harry said, “Did you see that? Quanah, did you see Bonnie and my brother jump into the train? That was so cool!”

  “Yeah, I mean, we could have died, but I’m glad we could entertain you,” I said.

  Bonnie snickered, which made the stupid grin on my face even wider. Were we nuts? Probably. Did I care? I looked over at her; the mirth in her eyes mirrored the bright feeling in my chest. Nope.

  We took out Bonnie’s med kit to tend to the wounds on my hands and leg and Bonnie’s collarbone. As the adrenaline faded, the last half hour played through my mind again. That guy put a knife to her throat. He was trying to take her.

  “Who was that guy?” I asked. She turned toward me, eyes clouded.

  “No one important,” she said darkly.

  “I think I have a right to know,” I said. Bonnie spared a glance at The Kid and Quanah before shifting her gaze to me.

  “Will Ellis,” she said, pressing a hand to the shallow cut on her collarbone. “Sixgun’s son. He’s a part of Jones’s crew.”

  “Is that the Crimson Fist?” my brother asked with wide eyes. Bonnie shook her head.

  “Jones is head of the Hanged Men,” she said to him.

  “Hanged Men?” he repeated.

  “Yeah,” Bonnie said, “Once you’re in, the only way out is at the end of a noose.”

  Oh. I’d be lying if I said a flicker of fear didn’t pass through me. The man I’d met in Vegas had been threatening enough. Now, I’d beaten his son.

  “You two should go down to the next car. Talk a little,” Quanah said, glancing at Harry. “This one owes me a story about a rattlesnake.” The woman gave me a knowing smile, then turned her attention to Harry, who was more than happy to have it.

  I motioned with my head to Bonnie, and we walked through the sliding door together. The next car over was quiet as we entered. Windows lined both sides, showing the open desert spread out around us. Mountains rose above the northern horizon and rolling deserts splayed out to the south. Booths sat in neat rows on the right side of the car, many occupied by women staring at us.

  My mood instantly brightened as I saw the fully stocked bar across from the booths. A young man with long, black hair and skin like the desert during sunset worked behind the bar. Women tried to catch his gaze from across the car. A woman at the bar lingered, handing him money for her drink before rejoining her friends. She winked at the bartender as I walked up.

  After ordering a bottle of whiskey, I brought it and two glasses to the farthest booth from the women playing cards, plunking it down on the rough surface of the wooden table. Nothing matched in the room. The booths seemed to have come from different places. Our table had initials carved over the surface. I poured us each a glass, glad that Quanah had the good sense to allow us a moment to gather ourselves.

  “So,” I finally said while pouring my second glass. “Do you think I killed him?”

  Bonnie looked up at me, confusion on her features. Then, slowly, it seemed to settle in.

  “I doubt it. Will is resilient,” Bonnie said. She didn’t speak
with hate or anger. Her voice was almost devoid of emotion, coolly indifferent. It was a stark contrast to how she described the men from her life. I watched her for a long time, waiting to see if she would expand, but she didn’t. She stared at her glass.

  “He was your friend,” I said. Bonnie brought those pretty blue eyes back to me.

  “Friend. Lover. Enemy. Whatever he was doesn’t mean a damn thing now.” There was a bitter edge to her words. Lover. The word struck me in the chest. Why did it hit that hard?

  “Did you love him?” I asked, staring at my glass.

  Bonnie laughed. It was so genuine I looked up at her, watching as she stared back with incredulity in her eyes.

  “Love him?” she asked, and shot the rest of her drink. “Did I love him?” Bonnie sighed, pressing her fingers to her lips in quiet contemplation. “Yes, in a way.” She motioned to me with her glass. I refilled it. “But not in the way you mean.”

  “Then... what way?” I asked, forcing any emotion or feeling from my voice.

  “I needed him, to make me feel like I was in control again,” Bonnie said. She turned her piercing stare to me.

  “What about you, farm boy? Have you ever been in love?” she asked.

  I sipped my whiskey, enjoying the burn as it went down. That was a fair question. What did love even look like? Love was the look in Pop’s eyes when he’d dance with Mom to whatever song Harry played off-key on nights at home. Love was the gentle way she chided Pop when he ripped his clothes or needed a new pair of boots. Love was the little things, the big things, and everything in between.

  “I could’ve been,” I admitted, an image of Clara flitting through my mind. “I was engaged.”

  Bonnie’s brows lifted on her forehead. “Yeah? And what happened to this fiancée?”

  I poured another round, pausing only to look at the bottle to gauge when we’d need a new one and concerned over whether I’d have enough money to pay for it.

  “She’s dead,” I said, frowning. The church and their small house burned the same night as mine. I had no doubt she died the same way.

  The conversation had taken a darker turn than expected. I didn’t want to talk about Clara or Montana. I wanted to find that high again, feel the adrenaline in my veins. I didn’t want to go jumping on and off moving trains again, but I wouldn’t mind something to take my mind off of my troubles.

  Bonnie seemed to be searching for something to keep herself entertained as well. When I looked up at her, she looked at the bar. Subtly, I glanced that way, finding the bartender smiling back. When I turned to her, there was a rosy flush in her cheeks. Envy bubbled up inside me at the desire in her eyes. I wanted her to look at me like that.

  Either she wasn’t good at hiding her feelings, or I was more in tune with them than I realized. I leaned toward her, pretending to reach for the bottle of whiskey instead of blocking her view of the handsome bartender.

  A round of loud giggling sounded through the car. I turned at the noise, finding five women crowded around a table, playing cards. I reached into my pocket, jingling the handful of brass bits I had left. I leaned across the table, capturing Bonnie’s attention.

  “We’re low on money,” I said, smiling. “I think I’ll go play a round of cards.”

  Bonnie’s brows lifted, but she didn’t speak. Instead, she lifted her glass as I rose to my feet. I carried my half-empty glass with me, sauntering slowly toward the women. I had no doubt I looked like some greasy vagabond compared to the prim and proper tone emanating from their fancy dresses and hats.

  “Hi there,” I said, trailing a hand over the back of the booth. “Got room for one more?”

  When the sun finally started to set and the bar car turned orange from the light, I couldn’t tell how many hands of poker I’d won. My pockets were a lot heavier, and I was quite drunk. I’d kept an eye on Bonnie. She sat for a while by herself but then wandered to the bar.

  I was proud of myself. The women I’d beaten were lovely. Two of them wanted to take me back to their car, but I didn’t want that. All I wanted was to go back to Bonnie and laugh about how I’d taken their money. Maybe have a drink or two with her. The rest of the women seemed amicable, except one who I thought would stab me if she had a knife.

  “Thank you for the wonderful time, ladies,” I said, grinning as I stood from the booth. I placed a hand on the back of it to steady myself, trying to find Bonnie.

  There were a few things I wanted to tell her. Like how this morning, when I woke up and it was just us, I should have kissed her. I should say to hell with our little arrangement. Or tell her that we could find a quiet car somewhere and finally finish what we started back in Vegas.

  Bonnie, however, sat in one of the booths, talking to the bartender. Well. Jealousy flared bright in my chest, sending me a step backward. I was confused. How was I supposed to tell her anything when she looked at that bartender like she’d looked at me in that alleyway? I straightened and left, somehow making it back to the car with Quanah and Harry. Both of them were asleep. I took my cue from them and found the least dirty spot to settle. The drink heated my veins. Every time I nearly fell asleep, the train jerked me awake. At some point, I passed out.

  The train jolted to a stop after dark. I started awake, still drunk, and scrambled to my feet, reaching for my shotgun at the first sign of trouble. Quanah sat quietly beside my brother.

  “A slight mechanical problem,” she said. “You should get some rest.”

  Right. I looked around for Bonnie. Harry and Quanah were accounted for, but she wasn’t. Should I have left her earlier? Was she in trouble? It didn’t seem like her to stay gone.

  Instead of settling back down, I moved to the door of the car, blinking rapidly and willing my vision to settle long enough for me to get to her. I reached for the handle of the bar car, pulling it open an inch. Sounds from inside stopped me mid-action. I peered in through the crack. The only thing visible in the darkened car was the moonlight outside. It highlighted the desert landscape, and revealed a silhouette seated on the bar. Long, dark hair whipped behind her, her neck arched. I could make out the curve of Bonnie’s chin, her jaw, even the soft slope of her nose.

  Bonnie moaned, her voice echoing throughout the empty car. Her body shuddered in pleasure, sending fire burning low in my belly.

  The bartender’s head wedged between her legs, his hands gripped around her creamy thighs. Bonnie’s hands fisted his scalp, sending an intense flare of jealousy through me. I started to move into the car, intent on replacing the man and showing her what I could do, but her voice filled my mind.

  One night. Then we part ways in the morning and you never have to see me again.

  Bonnie had made it clear what she wanted, and it wasn’t me. I wanted to punch something, or someone. I wanted to feel the rush of anger like this morning when I beat that guy’s face in. How could she choose him, someone she didn’t know, when I was right here? I slammed the door, not caring if she saw me. In fact, I wanted her to know I’d seen her. I turned my back, repeating over and over again that this was a lost cause and that I couldn’t wait until we got to Roswell.

  The train picked its course back up after another hour, but I was long asleep, the image of Bonnie’s body writhing beneath the ministrations of another man haunting my dreams.

  Someone shook rocks in a glass. Light spilled into the car, heating my skin. When I opened my eyes, a shadow stood over me. It was too bright, too loud, too everything. I sat up, blinking to steady my vision. Harry stood in front of me, shaking that stupid rattle Bonnie’d given to him.

  “Mornin’,” he said with a happy smile. The incessant noise continued. I yanked the rattle from him, meaning to toss it out of the car. Then I noticed we’d stopped. The Kid let out a strangled shriek and shouted my name. I threw the stupid thing back to him, moving to the open door.

  “Where are we?” I asked, my throat scratchy and dry.

  “Just outside of Albuquerque,” Quanah answered as she appeared from a
nother car. “We should reach Santa Fe tonight.”

  By the position of the sun, it had to be almost midday. Either that, or I was hallucinating. How had I slept so long? I glanced around the car.

  Still no Bonnie.

  I clenched my jaw, staring outside at the cactuses lining the tracks. I gripped the metal handle, the one I’d used to climb onto this stupid train and steady myself to help Bonnie. Above the trees I saw the ruins of a city. Tall half-collapsed structures marked Albuquerque in the distance. Behind it, a mountain towered, framing the city. I wondered if Bonnie had ever been there.

  Jesus. Why did she consume me?

  Probably because all I saw the entire night was the scene in the bar car, over and over. I relived it continuously, like I was tied up and being forced to watch. She was laughing at me. She had to be laughing at me, because I was so stupid. She didn’t get jealous because I was flirting with those women last night.

  Then again, I didn’t fuck any of those women like my life depended on it either.

  I needed to get out of my head. I needed to do something.

  As fate would have it, the door to the car slid open, and in walked Bonnie, hair flowing over her shoulders, eyes clear, and a smile perched on her lips. When she saw me, she stopped, her eyes widening for a split second before flickering away.

  “It’s time for some lunch, Harry. Would you help me to the dining car?” Quanah asked. He led her away, leaving me alone with Bonnie. I couldn’t look at her.

  “I’m glad at least one of us had a good night,” I spat, then jumped out of the open car door. I couldn’t be alone with her. I didn’t trust myself. I needed fresh air. I needed to get the fuck away from her. Her feet slammed into the dirt behind me. She grabbed my arm, yanking me to face her.

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” she asked, fury written in her eyes.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, did that guy literally fuck your brains out? Because that’s a stupid fucking question. I thought you were smart,” I said.

  Before I could blink, Bonnie slapped me. More than one pair of eyes turned toward us at the crack of her hand on my face.