“RIDER APPROACHIN’ FROM THE . . . oh. Sorry ma’am, rider approachin’ from the west,” Earl said. He smiled apologetically at her and unholstered his revolver.

  “Think that’s him . . . not sure yet though. If it’s him, he’ll be wearing rose tinted spectacles.” When Earl looked down at her in confusion, she shrugged. “Don’t look at me for ‘why’, I’ve just never seen him without those glasses.”

  A man on a dappled pony approached at a gallop. He wore freshly tanned leathers that dripped tassels, all of which moved like a sheaf of wheat swaying in the breeze. His jacket had tassels, his chaps over blue jeans had tassels, even his boot-tops had tassels. On his head, he wore a short tan stovepipe hat with a belt of burnished bronze buckles wrapped around its base, and his signature rose tinted spectacles peeked out from beneath the hat’s narrow rim.

  “Miss Kitty!” Nels dismounted and approached hurriedly, arms wide for an embrace. Kitty grunted as he slapped her back in a quick hug. He stood in front of her, an excited smile plastered on his clean shaven face.

  Kitty grimaced a smile at him in reply. “Great to see you, Nels. How’s the crew?”

  Nels’ face fell sharply. His hands went to his waist and he looked skyward while suddenly pacing to his horse and back, almost as though he was about to retrieve something. When he returned, he smiled wanly at Kitty. “Good. Ya, good. Most are happy . . . doing well.”

  Kitty snorted. “Thanks Nels. Can always count on you to tell it like it is.”

  Shifting nervously, he reached into a jacket pocket and produced a small tin that rattled as he lifted it to slide the lid off. He reached in and produced a tab covered in thin particles of white dust. Popping it in his mouth, he chewed vigorously and sighed in relief as his eyes rolled back slightly.

  “Crew is pretty much fine, Miss Kitty,” Nels said. “Sad you left, angry at other crews, fighting amongst themselves. Normal. Not a good place for me anymore though. I think I’ve been looking for a reason to leave The Life for a while, and the last few days in this game have been . . . exciting.”

  “He sure talks funny.” Earl had been listening at the side, eyes wide as he took in the strange man and his pony.

  “Sorry. Earl, Nels. Nels, Earl.” Kitty sat down, legs dangling into the gully.

  “Are you real?” Nels peered at Earl, who backed away hurriedly.

  “Mister, you best lay off that cocaine gum,” Earl said. He swept his hat off his forehead and wiped sweat away with a handkerchief, turning to glare at Nels. “Am I real? Are you??” Dusting off a knee, Earl returned to his own horse to dig his canteen from a saddlebag. “Hell kinda question is that?”

  Kitty gave a small smile from her position in the dirt. “Don’t mind him, Earl. He’s . . . foreign.” She turned away, muttering to herself. “Pretty sure that works in this era.”

  “Well I could tell that from the accent. He’s a dandy is what he is.” Earl gulped from his canteen.

  “Earl, that better be black coffee in that canteen.” Kitty cocked her head and narrowed her eyes at the man.

  He stared back; eyes sullen. “Just water ma’am.”

  “Excuse me, but what is ‘dandy?’” Nels’ hand was twitching at his thigh, where a sawed off repeater jutted from a modified holster. He was still smiling, but it was no longer social or pleasant.

  “It just means weird and fancy Nels, please don’t shoot him over it.” Kitty stood, running her hands through her hair.

  “But he insults me, Miss Kitty.” Nels was staring hard at Earl over his rose tinted spectacles.

  “Does he though?” Kitty asked, exasperatedly. She slapped Nels on the back, a knowing smile firm on her features. “Does he really?”

  Nels raised an eyebrow at her. Then he burst out laughing. “No. No I suppose not!”

  That situation diffused, Kitty mounted her loaner horse and turned it with her knees. “Let’s go.” She squeezed lightly, bringing the horse to a canter as they left the gully and followed the path forward. After half an hour of easy riding, Kitty started getting worried about Mitchel.

  “I shouldn’t have sent him off alone,” she muttered.

  Nels and Earl rode at either side of her, and she scowled to see how much lower Nels was on his pony.

  Earl seemed unconcerned about the marshal’s absence. “Mitchel’s tough as shoe leather, he’ll be fine.”

  Nels spoke up. “Excuse me Miss Kitty, but back there a ways I saw signs of a recent fight. Perhaps this man you speak of was caught up in that.”

  She turned in her saddle. “Signs of a fight?”

  “Yes.” Nels looked up at her, his calm smile in place. “Here, look.” He pointed to the dirt path in front of them. “Four horses going in that direction.” He used his hand out flat like a blade to point west. Shifting in his saddle, he pointed along the ground in the direction they were going. “Same four horses going east, slightly northeast, one horse now carrying a heavy load. Probably your man.”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Kitty stared hard at the ground where Nels was pointing, even trying to focus and activate her HUD, just in case it was something she was missing. She could see what she guessed were hoofprints, but it was all a jumble to her eyes. When she looked back at Nels, he shrugged.

  “It’s a perk. I can track,” Nels said. He smiled and popped another piece of cocaine gum into his mouth, chewing with gusto.

  “Well good news for me. Lead on, tracker,” Kitty ordered. She settled back in her saddle and they continued on.

  Within a few minutes the ridge became visible through the heat distortion on the horizon. As they continued to approach, a great swath of green foliage became visible as well, spreading from the vanishing point to the abyss.

  Earl pointed as he took another gulp from his canteen. “They go into Scarvelle you think?” He wiped his chin as he spoke.

  “I don’t know where that is, but I doubt it. Their camp is atop that ridge up ahead.” Kitty started looking around the ridge for someplace to hide their horses.

  “Scarvelle is the next state over, all swamp country and plantations. Doubt you’d have jurisdiction there is all . . .” Earl seemed disappointed.

  “Miss Kitty won’t care about that, not to worry. She gets her prey.” Nels reached down on his pony, drawing a long barreled weapon from its holster mounted at the side of his saddle. The stock was a dark hardwood, and the barrel was black iron, with a silver colored hatch near the oversized hammer.

  “What is that?” Kitty asked. She peered at the long gun as Nels lifted it to his shoulder and sighted around.

  “Springfield Trapdoor. I started off with a musket,” Nels explained. He stopped and spit on the ground, a lip curled. “This is much better.”

  Kitty paused and stared at her friend for a moment. “I’m glad you’re here Nels.” When he grinned up at her, she continued. “Just try and remember, we’re here to take this bastard alive.”

  He nodded absently, chewing his wad of gum. “Tracks go forward. Toward the swamps.”

  The posse continued forward, following alongside the train tracks as they approached. Nels guided them towards the state line but shifted in his saddle as they arrived, lifting his spectacles for a closer look. Kitty dismounted to give him some time to sort out what the tracks were telling him and took in the bizarre state line.

  On the side she stood, dry desert landscape stretched out as far as she could see. Dusty plains dotted by the occasional scrub or cactus, filled with hard orange stone and dry dirt.

  When she turned back the other direction, a swampy forest loomed over her. Great creaky willows mixed in with cypress trees and the occasional maple. Through thick shrubbery and tall grass, standing ground water was evident. The swamp sounded far livelier too, animal calls mixing into ever present bird sounds and insect buzzing. Kitty unfolded her map and nodded to see a clear demarcation line where the desert ended, and the swamp began. According to the map, and what she could see plainly, it continued like this in a straight line north and south.

  “That way.” Nels pointed with the flat of his hand again, adjusting his hat and spectacles as he remounted. He arranged the bronze buckles on his hat, pushing them up to sit against the top of the stovepipe, instead of around the base. When he noticed Kitty staring at him, he shrugged. “Help enemy marksmen shoot my hat instead of head.”

  They moved forward at a walk, trying to be careful and staying in the shadows of the swamp trees as they moved north along the line between states. As they approached the ridge from behind, Kitty called a halt and guided them deeper into the swamp to tie their horses off, leaving them in a grassy area surrounded by trees. She nodded at Nels and readied her double barrel, slipping two brass and cardboard shells into the barrels and clicking back both hammers.

  Nels crouched, sweeping his hand back and forth above the ground. “They covered their tracks from here.” He looked up at Kitty with a shrug. “Can’t follow.”

  She stood a moment, hands on hips as she looked around the area before coming to a decision. “Okay. Let’s get up on that ridge, that’s where they had me the other day. We can reconnoiter and possibly pick up their trail again, if they’re not up there. On me and stay quiet.”

  Kitty lead them around the base of the ridge, over to the small game trail she had used to climb down before. As they climbed, she kept her shotgun at the ready in case someone was up top. Her caution was not required, as they topped the ridge and took in the abandoned camp atop it. Charred leavings of a fire pit, some broken sundry items, and a handful of nasty stains were all she could see of the camp, but Nels started sniffing the air as soon as he climbed up.

  “Miss Kitty. Smoke,” Nels said. He sniffed again, turning and trying to spot its source.

  Kitty started sniffing the air too, picking up on the faint smell of wood smoke. Her first instinct was to check the hollow near the back of the ridge. It was little more than a natural formation of stone, simply a niche tucked away at the ridge’s peak. Inside was a smattering of stains, tacky with the coppery stink of ripe blood, but the smell of smoke was thick inside too. A small wisp of smoke was trailing up from a long crack in the floor, pooling around the ceiling, and slowly escaping from the loose formation of stone that formed the shallow cave. She raised a hand to both men at the mouth of the stone formation, and carefully laid her shotgun down.

  Kitty belly crawled slowly to the edge of the crack in the ground and leaned over it to peer down, lifting her shirt to cover her nose and mouth. She could only see a tiny flicker of flame and an area of tussled dust. The crack in the stone was straight, but filled with jagged edges as it went deeper, and she couldn’t get a clear line of sight to anything happening down below. The longer she stayed and tried to see, the more her eyes tickled from the smoke, until she finally had to scoot back and suppress her coughing. Her eyes burned fiercely, and she couldn’t see properly. Sitting back and shaking her head didn’t help, and a bright red debuff appeared on her HUD. It looked like a crying bloodshot eye that occasionally blinked.

  “Oh ow!” Kitty hissed. She sat back and whispered in pain. “This sucks!”

  “It’s a debuff?” Nels raised an eyebrow. “Take some drugs.”

  “Drugs?” Kitty whispered up at him.

  “Yes, drugs,” Nels replied. He smiled infuriatingly, nodding.

  “Nels. Explain why I should take drugs!” Kitty whisper-shouted. Hissing at him in the shallow cave felt very stupid, but Kitty was getting used to that feeling.

  “What are you guys whispering about?” Earl intruded, poking his head around the corner, also whispering.

  “Drugs!” Kitty whispered more fiercely so he could hear.

  “Oh.” Earl squinted in confusion, turning away and adjusted his hat slightly. “Alright then.”

  Nels had glanced backwards at him but turned back to Kitty when Earl exited the conversation in discomfort. “All kinds of drugs in this. Taken all kinds of ways.” He peered over his spectacles at her. “Sometimes drugs cancel debuffs.”

  “What . . . I actually have some drugs, that’s awesome!” Kitty grinned at Nels, remembering again why she liked having him around. She dug into her satchel and produced a button of Peyote. Squeezing it caused a small bit of juice to bead up on the cut area of the cactus, so Kitty shrugged and started rubbing it into her eyes.