A Broken Outlaw

by Caylen McQueen

  When he looked down at the big black cannon that was meant to be the replacement for his arm, he found it difficult to appreciate much of anything. Nevertheless, he replied, “I do appreciate it. I could never ask for a more loyal sidesidekick.”

  “Awwww!” Carol shrilled. “You've never called me your sidesidekick before! I'm totally flattered!”

  “Of course, now that I'm missing an arm, I should probably be your sidesidekick.”

  “Uggggh. There you go again. You're such a joy sucker, Jojo, I swear.” Josiah didn't look quite right without his usual headwear, so Carol tossed a ten gallon hat on his head, covering his messy blonde hair. “No one's going to want to be around you if you're so glooooomy all the time.”

  Josiah's reply wasn't meant for Carol's ears, so he whispered the words, “Like I care.”

  “Huh? Did you say something?”

  “Nope.” Josiah removed the hat from his head and transferred it to Carol's. “Now... go ahead. Impress me, Miss Cassady. Show me what this thing can do.”

  “Great!” Inspired by his unexpected enthusiasm, she clapped her hands together. “What do you want to see first, Jo? Fire? Bullets? Or maybe a big, fat explosion?”

  As he took another drag from his cigarette, Josiah casually replied, “Anything's fine by me.”

  They were standing on the edge of Santa Rosa, far away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Hopefully, if there was, a “big fat explosion,” the city dwellers wouldn't be too alarmed. To prepare for the day's demonstration, Carol had rolled several empty barrels into the middle of the desert, where they would test the gun arm's many functions. Carol's eyes swelled excitedly as she explained the purpose of the weapon's many switches.

  “The top switch is for fire. If you flick it up, a continuous spray of flame will ooze from the gun. Pretty nifty, huh?”

  “I don't know if nifty is the word I'd use. Personally, I think I'd use the words extreme and dangerous.”

  “Oh, but it gets even better!” Carol declared. “Do you see that lever on the side? It controls the distance of the fire. If you push the lever all the way back, you can sizzle stuff at a maximum of fifty yards.”

  “Wait... let me get this straight...” With his cigarette between two fingers, Josiah dragged a hand across his face. “You can burn someone who's fifty yards away?”

  “Sure. You can burn someone or something. All your wanted posters said you were an arsonist, so it might be dangerous to hand this over to you, but--”

  “It is dangerous!” Josiah interrupted her. “And I thought I explained this to you already? The arson was Pat's fault, not mine!”

  “It sounds like someone doesn't want to accept responsibility for the mistakes he's made. It's okay, Josiah.” Carol lovingly patted his arm. “It's okay. I accept you as the man you are. You burned something down, and that's bad. You were bad. But I'm your friend, so I forgive you.”

  “For God's sake, Carol, I didn't burn anything down! It was Patrick!”

  “Okay. Whatever. If you say so. Now... let's test this bad boy out. Hold out your arm.”

  When Josiah raised the gun arm, he did so with a slight roll of his eyes. “Alright. Show me how this works.”

  As soon as his arm was up, Carol flicked a switch on the panel, and a ribbon of fire squirted from the front of the arm. She pulled back on the lever, lengthening the distance of the spray until one of her barrels erupted in a sea of flame. “You only get about thirty seconds of continuous fire,” Carol explained as she flicked the switch back down, shutting off the flame. “When you run out, you'll need a few minutes to recharge.”

  When the demonstration was over, he said only one word. “Alright.”

  “You sound so interested.” Carol's tone was simultaneously sarcastic and disappointed.

  “I am interested. I don't know what you want me to say, Carol. What kind of reaction were you expecting? Were you hoping I'd jump up and down like a silly schoolgirl, because that ain't me.”

  “I expected you to throw confetti.”

  “Well... maybe you can add a confetti cannon to the gun arm. Then I can prepare myself for the next time you show me some crazy invention and expect me to celebrate.”

  “Don't be an ass.”

  “I'm not being an ass.”

  “Moving on.” Sighing deeply, Carol directed Josiah's attention to the second switch on the panel. “This is for bullets. Hold your arm steady, okay? I'm going to turn them on.”

  When Carol flicked the switch, a barrage of bullets poured from Josiah's new arm. The bullets were fired in such rapid succession, it was more like a Gatling gun than a revolver. She encouraged him to aim at one of the barrels, which was blown apart by the volley.

  As she flicked the switch, turning off the gunfire, Carol explained, “Of course, there's a limit to the number of bullets this thing can fire. Again, you'll get about thirty seconds before you run out of ammo. I'll have to teach you how to reload.”

  “I can't wait.” Josiah's reply was as cold as his ice blue eyes.

  Undaunted by his apathy, Carol flicked the gun arm's third switch. When she did, an eight-inch blade shot out from the end of it. “If you run out of ammunition, you've always got this to fall back on.”

  “Nice.” For the first time, Josiah was genuinely intrigued. He moved the arm back and forth, stabbing the air with his blade. “I wish I had a dummy to test this on.”

  “I'll get you one later. I'm glad you like that knife, because I almost didn't add it.” Carol retracted the blade and pointed at the fourth and final switch. “Alright, so... I know you don't like to kill people, so I added a smoky-sleep bomb to the last switch. They're kind of expensive, so I'm not going to test it. And you can only load one at a time, so you have to use it wisely. If you flick the switch, it'll launch. The lever determines the distance it's fired. You'll have to work with the lever a bit to get a feel for it, and--”

  “Okay,” Josiah interrupted her. The entire conversation made him dwell on the loss of his arm, and it was killing him. He wondered how many days would pass before he stopped feeling like less of a man.

  “You sound less than impressed... but that's okay, because I've been saving the best for last!” Carol assured him. When she tried to put the hat on his head a second time, he removed it again. This time, he didn't put it on Carol's head, he flung it to the ground. “Gosh, Josiah, what's your problem?”

  “What's my problem?” With a snide chuckle, he pointed at the gun arm. “This is my problem.”

  Stung by the harshness of his words, tears sprang into Carol's eyes. She didn't often cry, but his reaction to her invention was nothing like the reaction she expected. “Why? I worked really hard on this, Josiah! Do you have any idea how many hours I poured into this? I-I-I really wanted you to like it!”

  He didn't say anything, he just shrugged and looked away.

  “And why won't you wear this?” Carol's lips quivered as she retrieved the hat and smacked the dust from its brim. “I bought it for you, you know!”

  “Maybe I don't quite feel like myself, Miss Cassady. I'm real sorry if that disappoints you.”

  “It does disappoint me!” When her first tear fell, Carol crushed it with a gloved hand. “If you're not acting like yourself, I can't act like myself. I feel like I have a hole in my heart, Josiah! I just want my friend back! I'd do anything to get you back!”

  The sight of Carol's tear immediately melted some of his icy exterior. Josiah flicked his cigarette to the ground, crushed it beneath his boot, wrapped an arm around Carol's back and pulled her against his chest. “I'm sorry, Carol.” As he held her, he whispered the apology into her ear. “I'm just having a difficult time adjusting to... this.” He lifted the gun arm. “It's life-changing. It's changed me. But I don't want you to be sad, sweetheart.”

  “I am sad,” Carol admitted as she sniffled into his shirt. “You might not feel like the same Josiah, but you're still the same old Josiah to me. I don't care if you have one arm or six ar
ms, you're still an important person to me!”

  “Then I'll... I'll try to be better. Here. Give me that hat.” When she passed it to him, he put it on and forced a smile. “How's it look?”

  “Good.” She sniffled again.

  “Good? Come on. You're Carol Cassady. You can do better than that. Or am I not worthy of an original compliment?”

  She tried again. “You look... sharp as shit.”

  “Thanks.” Her second compliment made him chuckle. “Now... why don't you show me this thing you were so excited about? You said you were saving the best for last, right?”

  “Yeah. I won't lie, I'm actually kind of impressed with myself for this.” Carol pulled a pair of sunglasses from her pocket and slipped them over Josiah's eyes. “Ooo. Look at that! Now you look super suave!”

  “I'll take your word for it.”

  “No, seriously. You look way too handsome right now.”

  Josiah's freckled face was crimsoned by her compliment, but he didn't say a word. In the back of his mind, he wondered if it was pity praise. After all, Carol never complimented him until his arm was lost.

  “Those sunglasses are the targeting system for a very powerful missile. A guided missile,” Carol explained. “It's my own special brand of missile, and you're holding one of the only two weapons in the world that's capable of firing it. Seriously, it can sink an airship in a single shot. I haven't sold these missiles to anyone because I don't trust them. So the fact that I'm equipping you with them should say a lot.”

  “You trust me.”

  “Yep. Now... here's how to use those glasses. First, you need to focus on an object until you hear a beep. Try looking at one of those barrels over there.”

  Josiah focused on the barrel for all of three seconds before the glasses made a sharp beeping noise.

  “When you're ready to fire, close your right eye for a few seconds, and it'll fire. And you better brace yourself, because when it blows, it's blowing big time!”

  “Are you serious? That's how it fires? A wink?” Josiah moaned into the palm of his hand. “I guess I better be careful with this, huh?”

  “Yeah. Oh, and get this! It'll only respond to your eyes, because I scanned your retinas when you were unconscious.”

  A shiver shot down Josiah's back. He couldn't believe Carol was trusting him with so much destructive power. “Okay, so... should I wink?”

  “Yep. Whenever you're ready!”

  Josiah closed his right eye, and a few seconds later, a panel opened up on the gun arm, releasing a slender, silver missile. When it hit the barrel, the resulting explosion was so immense, he could feel the heat from several yards away.

  “Whooo! Nice!” Carol cheered for her invention. “That barrel was blown to bits! Hell, it blew so hard, I might even use the word smithereens. That barrel was blown to smithereens, Josiah! You know, I'd go so far as to say you're the most dangerous man in the world right now.”

  “Only because I'm standing next to the most dangerous woman in the world,” Josiah added with a smirk.

  “That was seriously too amazing,” Carol declared, then she removed the sunglasses from Josiah's face and slipped them into his pocket. “Now... you better take those off before you accidentally launch another one. Those missiles aren't cheap.”

  When Carol crossed her arms over her chest, Josiah noticed her clothes for the very first time. She was wearing tan breeches, a blue shirt, and a dark brown coat—which, apart from its tassels, was completely normal. Before he could inquire about the absence of her usual unusual attire, he spotted something in the corner of his eye that redirected his thoughts. “Aw, shit,” he cursed, dragging a foot across the pebbled ground.

  “Aw shit what?”

  “Aw shit... it's Gwen,” Josiah groaned. “And she's heading this way. That's surprising. She usually avoids me.”

  As she approached, Gwendolyn Montgomery held up the newspaper in her hand. Of course, the front page's article was about Emperor Ju-long's conquest of Santo Feo, but that wasn't the primary thought on Gwen's mind. “Guys!” Gwen exclaimed. “Guys, you need to see this!”

  Josiah didn't make eye contact or respond, so Carol had to answer on their behalf. “What's up, chicken butt?”

  Gwen's brow was momentarily pinched by Carol's odd greeting, but she continued nonetheless. “Look at the top article on page three. It's about... Patrick Amberley.”

  Even though news about his best friend would affect him the most, Josiah didn't take the paper, so Carol snatched it from Gwen's hand and opened to the appropriate page. When he didn't bother to read, Carol summed up the article for him. “Umm... the sheriff of Gravestone is hanging Patrick Amberley. Tomorrow.”

  Josiah's jaw clenched, but he was as silent as ever.

  “Now open to page four!” Gwen reached over Carol's arm and turned the page. “There's an article about me!”

  As her eyes skimmed the words, Carol murmured aloud, “Gwendolyn Montgomery, age eighteen, was taken from Gravestone by notorious outlaw Josiah Cole and an unnamed accomplice... she was last seen... blah blah blah... yada yada... hmmmm...” Carol tapped the corner of the newspaper against her chin. “Wait, am I the unnamed accomplice?”

  “Possibly.” Gwen shrugged. She was wearing a pair of ridiculously short jean shorts, and there was a bright red mosquito bite on the top of her thigh. As she subtly scratched the bite, she said, “I'm so sorry, Josiah. They think you kidnapped me, and that's why my father pushed Patrick's execution to tomorrow. I'm so sorry.”

  When Josiah's eyes finally landed on Gwen's, they were possessed by rage. His blue eyes were so stormy, they could make thunder pause. Still, he said nothing.

  “I'm sorry, Josiah!” Gwen repeated her apology yet again. “I forced you to take me with you, and now I've gotten your friend in trouble. Do you hate me? Can you ever forgive me?” She thought she saw him shaking his head, so she asked, “You can't forgive me?”

  “I'm upset, Gwen. What do you want me to say? Huh?” Josiah hitched a shoulder—the one that wasn't attached to Carol's insane weapon. “If your father's an ass, I guess it's not your fault.”

  “So, uh... what are we going to do?” Carol asked, tugging on Josiah's sleeve. “You're going to help him, right? You're going to ride in on a white horse and save your friend from certain death, yeah?”

  Josiah's answer was a simple, “No.”

  “Okay then... a, uh... a brown horse?” Carol sounded hopeful.

  “No, Carol. I'm not riding in on anything. There's nothing I can do for Pat. Look at me! I'm no hero.” As Josiah stormed away, he fumbled with the straps on the gun arm. “I never was.”

  Five

  “Please.” Flynn pressed the palms of his hands together and held them up to Vee, begging her to listen to his plea. Even though Hu Lian was the one in charge, Vee seemed to have a tremendous amount of influence over her. If he could get Vee to listen, it was better than having no hope. “You have to let me attend that wedding. Please.”

  “Hon, I don't even know if I'm welcome at that wedding. How the hell am I going to get you in?”

  “I don't know. Just... try.”

  “And why would I do that for you?”

  “Because I'm in love with the girl who's getting married, and because I know you have a heart!”

  “Shit. You're in love with the prince's bride? That's... awkward.” Vee paused to scratch her head. “Seriously, why would you want to attend the wedding if you're in love with her? Why would you want to torture yourself like that?”

  Flynn had a very good reason for wanting to be there. He wanted to stop the wedding. Since he was fairly certain Jun didn't want to marry Hu Lian's brother, he assumed she would welcome a rescue. Of course, he couldn't reveal his intentions to Vee, so he had to think of another reason for wanting to attend. “I just want to see Jun's face one more time before I'm locked away in jail. Can you really deny me that?”

  “Hmm.” Vee suddenly pointed her shotgun at him. “If I take you to the
wedding, how will I know you won't try to escape?”

  “Because I won't! I'll stay at your side the entire time. What could I possibly do if you're watching my every move?” In order to properly plead his case, Flynn's tongue worked harder than ever. Even though he was a man of few words, his voice never failed him when the situation was dire.

  “Aw, hell!” Vee capitulated and hitched a shoulder. “The next time I see her, I'll ask Lian what she thinks. But I'm not going to try that hard, Flynn, so don't get your hopes up. I don't like to stick my neck out for other people, especially when it doesn't benefit me in some way.”

  “I'd be in your debt.”

  “Oh, whoop-de-doo.” Vee rolled her eyes. “You'll probably be in jail for the next six or seven years, boy. What good is that debt to me?”

  Despite her reluctance to help, Vee didn't let him down. By the time they reached Emperor Ju-long's airship, Vee convinced Lian to let him attend. And it wasn't too difficult, because Lian rarely said no to the woman she loved. To Flynn's surprise, they didn't even keep him chained.

  “When we're on my father's airship, you better stay close to us, or the day won't end well for you.” As the threat rolled from Lian's tongue, she pointed at the pistol on her hip. “If you try anything funny, you'll get shot. Hell, if you try anything un-funny, you'll get shot. If you do anything even remotely out of the ordinary, you can expect to get shot. Basically... stand right beside us and don't move a muscle, boy. Do you understand?”

  As Flynn nodded, he could feel his jaw hardening. He was lying, of course. He had no intention of staying anywhere near them, not when Jun needed him.

  “We're allowing you to see the woman you love one last time. That's awfully generous of us, no?” Lian nudged him with her elbow. “However, if and when we speak to my brother, that is not the story you're going to tell him. If Prince Feng asks who you are, you're one of my bounty hunters. Alright?”