by Izzy Hunter
‘You know very well on what grounds.’
‘The theatre? Where’s your proof? Really? I’d love to know, cos as far as I know you can’t try me in a different state to the one the crime was committed.’
Mona watched him for a moment. The smarmy git. She leant forward, pressing her face between the bars. She spoke in a low murmur, though she didn’t really care if the crewmen heard her or not. ‘Who says you’re standing trial? Maybe an unfortunate, fatal, accident will occur before we get that far.’
‘Oh please,’ Hubert said, waving her threat away.
‘Arranging the murder of a little shit like you is nothing - nothing - compared to things I’ve done.’
His laugh was loud. ‘I’ve met corpses who are more of a threat than you.’
Right, that was it. Mona had had it up to here with the bastard. Thankful Northam had already given her the key to the cell, Mona yanked it from her pocket and shoved it in the lock. Seconds later, Hubert had backed away, sensing he’d crossed a line.
‘Keep away from me!’ he hollered, eyes wide in horror. ‘Help me someone! Help!’
One of the crewmen spoke, though didn’t move from his spot next to the cell. ‘Captain told us the Sheriff can do what she wants.’
That was enough for Mona. She grabbed Hubert and pushed him to the ground, planting a heeled boot on his chest to stop him from getting up.
‘Hey, that’s not fair,’ the man said.
Mona took out her gun and casually waved it around as she spoke. ‘You know, I could shoot you dead right here and now, and nobody in the world would care.’
‘Is that right?’ Hubert shot back gruffly.
‘I’d say so, yes.’ Mona thought for someone whose life was in another’s hand, he sure was being cocky.
‘I think shooting me would be a very bad mistake,’ Hubert went on.
‘What, do you think Oscar’s going to avenge you if I do? I really can’t think of any positives for you still living.’
Finally, he stopped struggling against her and stared up at Mona. ‘What about for when your man turns on you?’
This threw Mona. ‘Henry? How do you know about Henry?’
‘Who’s Henry? I’m talking about Sam, the pretty boy.’
‘Sam’s not my man. Anyway, what the hell are you talking about? What do you mean, he’ll turn on me?’
‘I can’t tell me if you’re going to kill me,’ Hubert said, eyes glancing towards the gun still in Mona’s hand.
In one smooth movement, Mona took her foot off the man’s chest and hauled Hubert to his feet. She aimed the gun at his heart. ‘You’d better start talking or we may have a little accident here.’
Catching her meaning, Hubert opened his mouth to speak but a shadow fell over them both. Sam stood on the other side of the barred door, watching them both with his typical couldn’t-care-less smile. ‘Did I hear my name being mentioned?’
‘Apparently, this one thinks you’re going to betray me in some sort of way,’ explained Mona, poking Hubert with the gun as she did so. She looked back towards Sam. He was staring at Hubert, his expression unreadable in this light.
‘Go ahead, little fella,’ Sam said finally. ‘Tell her.’ He folded his arms.
Hubert seemed surprised by this, but before he could speak, Sam interrupted again.
‘Oscar Tudor asked me to come work for him,’ he said. ‘I admit, I said yes but, well, when I found out what he’d planned for the theatre, I changed my mind.’ Sam pushed the cell door wider and stepped in. Suddenly it was awfully crowded in that little room. ‘I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I’d taken part in that blast,’ he added, leaning down so he was face to face with the prisoner. ‘But you, someone like you obviously can.’ Before Mona knew it, Sam had fisted his hand, pulled it back and punched Hubert directly in the face. The man fell down instantly, blood gushing from his now-broken nose.
CHAPTER TEN
‘You knew about the blast? You knew about Oscar’s plans? And you said nothing?’ Mona kept her voice low and calm. It was an affective tactic when wanting to appear angry and dangerous. And, boy, was she angry. She had brought Sam to her room to talk, after getting the crewmen to clean up a rather-bloody Hubert. She’d barely closed the room door before turning on Sam.
‘Look, I’m sorry. Okay?’ said Sam, in a tired voice, as he sat down on a chair.
‘No, it’s not okay,’ Mona fired back. ‘People died, Sam. Or had you forgotten that.’
‘If I could go back and change things, I would.’
‘How noble of you. Jesus, I should arrest you right now and stick you in the brig.’
‘You should, but you won’t.’
‘And why’s that?’
Sam leant back in the chair, smile back on his face. ‘Cos I’m too pretty to put behind bars.’
‘That’s not going to work anymore, Sam.’
He took a moment to respond, searching her eyes with his. Finally, he said, ‘it worked last time.’
The sensation of that kiss gave way to a feeling of immense anger. How dare he mention that when she had been talking about lives lost. How dare he be so flippant when she was being serious.
Before she knew it, her gun was gripped in her hand and she had lunged at the man, grabbing the front of his shirt and pushing him against the wall. In the surprise attack, Sam had stumbled from his chair and now was in crouching position, the barrel of the gun pressed the side of his head.
‘Is it wrong that I’m totally turned-on right now?’ he couldn’t resist saying.
Jesus Christ! Mona screamed inwardly. She went to take off the safety catch of the pistol. Maybe that would shut him up.
But he was too quick for her. Seeing she had momentarily removed the pistol from his head, Sam grabbed Mona and stole the gun from her, chucking it on the cushioned chair in the corner.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ Mona cried, as she found herself being awkwardly led across the room. For a moment, she thought he was reaching for the door, intending to either push her out or make a dash for it himself. But seconds later, her body bounced gently on the soft mattress of the bed.
Sam lay on top of her, his erection pressing against her leg. ‘Doing something we should have done already,’ he said in a rush, as if finding speaking an inconvenience when he could be busy with something else.
Mona knew this was wrong. Knew she should push him away and get as far away from him as possible. But her body was telling her different. Their kisses were urgent. Sam’s hands were everywhere like a kid in a candy store, not sure what delight to try first. Mona found her own hands at the hem of Sam’s shirt, eagerly lifting it to get to the smooth skin beneath. She scraped her nails against it and heard a moan from her neck where Sam’s kisses had reached.
He sat up briefly to discard his shirt as quickly as possible. Mona quickly undid the buttons on her own shirt, glad that she had not worn her corset that day. Sam grinned and threw Mona’s shirt wide open before nuzzling against her exposed breasts. His hands began pawing at her trousers, keen to see those off, too.
Mona brought their mouths together again, tongues clashing violently, as she moved to sit astride Sam and his straining erection. She toyed with him, rubbing herself against him, making him swear and curse with impatience. His hands moved down and unleashed his length from the trousers, sighing at the freedom.
‘Close your eyes,’ Mona cooed, smirking in a way that told him exactly what she had planned. Sam glanced down at his length, then lay back with the biggest smile Mona had seen him wear. ‘Hell yeah,’ he murmured.
Mona was quick. She had leapt off the bed, grabbed her gun from the chair, and had it pressed against his cock before he knew what had happened.
‘Jesus, woman!’ Sam cried, seeing what was going on. He swung himself off the bed and stared at her. ‘You’re crazy!’
‘And you only just noticed?’ Mona said. She got off the bed, standing on the other side, watching Sam hurriedly re-d
ress. ‘Just forget it, Sam. Leave me alone. Especially when we get to No Hope.’
Sam stared back at her, tucking his shirt into his trousers again. ‘Fine,’ he said finally.
Mona stood where she was, gun still in hand, as Sam headed to the door. He opened it before looking back at her, a sadness to his voice. ‘You know, I would have helped you.’
‘Helped me with what?’
Sam shook his head. ‘You’ll find out.’
Only a few hours later, a distant speck that was No Hope came into view. Barring no incidents, The Red Jenny would reach the town within a day. Mona had packed early and was now helping Matthew get ready to face the townsfolk. She was using a comb Woods had left in his room to de-tangle the boy’s sandy-coloured locks. Matthew wasn’t happy. Arms folded, he cringed and cried out every time Mona hit a snag in his hair, which was often.
‘You’re wasting your time,’ Matthew said, as Mona caught another snag. ‘My pa won’t give a shit what I look like.’
Mona hit him with the comb. ‘Mind your language. We’ll have none of that talk once we’ve landed, young man.’ She continued combing. ‘Anyway, it’s not for your father’s benefit. It’s in your best interest to look presentable to the townsfolk. You know, the folk whose money you stole?’
‘They won’t care either. They’ll lynch me as soon as look as me.’
‘Listen kid, the days of lynch mobs in No Hope is over, believe me,’ Mona told him.
There wasn’t much in Mona’s thirty years that she was proud of, but No Hope was one of them. The way she and Henry - with immense help from the townsfolk themselves - had turned the settlement from a cesspit to a viable, profitable, safe town still surprised her. Back then, though, Mona had taken no prisoners, letting her gun do the talking when it came to the vilest, most violent of citizens. And she would be eternally grateful for the way the good people had bandied around and helped rid the town of the scum. Sure there were still some bad apples left but they could be handled.
‘Pa used to tell me about the old days,’ mused Matthew. ‘Sometimes it sounded like he missed it.’
‘When it comes to your father, I’m not surprised,’ Mona told him. ‘Do you remember before Henry and I arrived?’
The boy nodded. ‘It was horrible. Sometimes a kid would catch the eye of someone and then they would suddenly disappear. Happened a couple of times.’
Mona knew very well what he was talking about. She had personally seen to it that that kind of thing stopped straight away. She would always live with the fact that she couldn’t save the children involved.
‘Anyways,’ Matthew continued, after a moment. ‘I’m glad you’re our Sheriff.’
‘So am I?’ said Mona, smiling behind him.
Seconds later, the ship gave a violent lurch that left them both sprawled on the floor of the room; the comb flying out of Mona’s hand.
‘What the hell’s going on?’ asked Matthew, picking himself up.
‘I don’t know, kid.’ Mona got to her feet. ‘Maybe one of the rotors hit something.’
‘Like what?’
‘A bird?’
‘Must have been a big bird then.’
Mona retrieved the comb from underneath the table when she heard footsteps outside. Running footsteps and shouting. They got louder and louder and then faded again as whoever it was passed by the room.
‘Stay here,’ Mona told Matthew, tossing the comb onto the table. ‘I’ll be back in a second.’
Mona stepped out of the room and caught sight of someone dashing around the corner at the end of the corridor. Northam was thundering down the steps from the top deck when Mona caught up with the crewman who had been shouting.
‘What’s going on?’ Mona asked her friend, trying to make her voice heard over the eruption of voices around her.
Northam spotted her and pushed through her crewmen to reach her. ‘Someone’s taken a shot at us,’ came the surprised reply.
‘What? Who?’
‘I don’t know,’ the captain admitted. ‘But they’re sure as hell gonna regret it.’
Just as Northam had finished speaking, another shot was heard. This time it had hit a target. A crewman, one of the younger ones of The Red Jenny, came stumbling down the stairs; Northam catching him before he fell. Blood covered his left shoulder. Mona swore, as did half the people there.
By now, the sound of gunfire had brought out almost all everyone from their rooms. The area by the stairs was becoming claustrophobic. One of the passengers came to the fore and took a look at the fallen crewman.
‘I’m a doctor. I may be able to help this man,’ he told Northam, then turned around to a woman, possibly his wife, and urged her to fetch his medical bag. The woman had gone running back down the corridor before he’d finished speaking.
The crewman was gently taken down the steps and then lain on the floor. He’d lost consciousness by this point. The doctor dropped to his floor and took the man’s wrist, checking for a pulse, while all around watched in silence. He lowered the wrist and felt the crewman’s neck. He looked at Northam and shook his head. There was a murmur from several passengers and several more crossed their chests.
Someone thundered down the steps, almost colliding with Northam. ‘Captain, we’re ready for descent.' No Hope is mere miles away.’ He caught sight of the dead crewman, and visibly paled.
‘Can you see who’s shooting at us?’ Northam asked him, snapping him out of his trance.
A second crewman appeared at the opening to the deck, peering down at everyone. ‘It’s a group of five men, Captain. Two of them seem to be the shooters.’
Another three shots were made in quick succession. A passenger screamed in fear.
‘Listen,’ shouted Northam, bringing silence. ‘It’ll take more than some goddamn bullets to bring my ship down. Return to your rooms. You will be perfectly safe there.’
‘How can you be sure?’ someone asked.
‘Because you won’t be near me, and if you don’t go back to your rooms, and stay there, I’ll throw you off the goddamn ship myself!’
There were still grumbles but everyone did as they were told. The doctor and the crewmen on the stairs carried the dead shipmate off, probably to one of the empty rooms to keep there until they managed to land in No Hope. Once it was just Northam, her crewmen and Mona, Northam spoke to them all.
‘Arm yourselves. Whatever weapons you’ve got. Whatever weapons you’ve hid, now’s the time to get them out. Then we’ll go top deck and see what’s what.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ said Mona, as the crewmen rushed off to retrieve their weapons. ‘I’ll be back in a second.’
Mona found Sam in his room, sitting on his bed and swigging from a bottle. Mona’s first thought was that she hoped he wasn’t drunk. He didn’t seem surprised to see her, yet he didn’t appear thrilled either.
‘What do you want?’ he asked, the charm she knew gone.
‘You didn’t hear it?’ Mona answered, dubiously.
‘Only the sound of my heart being torn asunder.’
Dear god, thought Mona, cringing. He was definitely drunk, or at least feeling sorry for himself. She crossed over to him and stood towering above him. The smell of alcohol was abundant. She took the bottle from his hand. Mercifully it was only half empty. Mona set it down on the table next to the bed and addressed Sam.
‘Some bastards are shooting at the ship. We don’t know who or why. A crewman’s dead. Northam’s raging, though she’s keeping her cool.’ She looked him up and down. ‘So if you want to be useful, grab your gun and follow me.’ Mona half-expected an innuendo reply but there was nothing but a grunt from Sam as he clambered off the bed and stood, swaying slightly. She waited while he stood there for a few moments, muttering to himself about his gun. Then he crossed over to the chest of drawers in the corner, yanked open the top drawer and withdrew a pistol.
‘Ready?’ Mona asked, already making for the door.
Sam nodded and slipped the gu
n into his trousers, following her out the room.
They rejoined Northam and the some of the crewmen. Guns drawn, they walked, one by one, up the steps to the top deck. Northam signalled for everyone to crouch across to the side of the ship. Mona kept an eye on Sam, making sure he behaved and didn’t lead them into more trouble. The sky was becoming covered with dark grey clouds. Mona hoped this wasn’t a reflection of what was going to happen.
They reached the side. Northam very, very slowly peered over the side. She suddenly jerked down as another shot was fired. Any slower of movement, and the captain would have been shot in the head.
‘Somehow I don’t think these gentlemen are the talking type,’ Northam quipped.
‘Hey up there!’
Despite being at least twenty feet above ground, the voice carried. Everyone looked to Northam for guidance. Northam, for her part, looked at Mona. Before Mona could advise, the voice shouted up again.
‘Hey, you up there! You’re trespassing! You gotta pay the toll.’
‘Toll?’ Mona mouthed to no one in particular. Unless the law had changed in the days since they’d left No Hope, no toll was necessary to enter No Hope.
‘A hundred dollars should do it!’ added the gruff voice.
