The Bloody Bachelor swallowed hard to push his wounded pride down and out of the way. It still turned in his stomach as he moved ever so delicately to grab at the roller’s rail cage doorway. Each second felt like forever as he listened intently for any sound that might foretell his fate. But nothing came right up to the moment his rear rested against the passenger’s seat.
“Flee you flea,” Dyzon demanded instantly. The words had barely formed and managed to make their way past his tongue when Caess had already slammed the accelerator as far down as it could go. The two disappeared in a trailing cloud of dust until the lingering twilight swallowed them up.
“Looks like we’re all going to be on the hook for this,” Dyzon said coldly. “Either we remove this thorny threat or we face the Red Bull’s wrath right alongside Eris and them.” Caess drove in silence as he considered just how desperate Dyzon would have to be to even consider joining forces with a female let alone someone he deemed a rival. “Make contact with Dizcords Daemons, I know you have some idea of how to reach them, and set up a meeting.”
Only the humming sound of the roller’s engine could be heard against the night as they drove on. Neither man dared risk a glance behind them, nor would they talk further presently. They had just witnessed a man they thought to be little more than a joke gun down two of their crew in the blink of an eye only to allow them to run without so much as a warning shot. As frightening as fighting this Gauntlet again was, they both found themselves hoping they had time before news could travel to Adrian Taurus. Time enough for them to attempt to fix everything, or if they were lucky die trying.
Episode 27 – A Gun-Bunny Hops Again
Over the course of her many years, Grandma Grael had picked up a good number of useful things. Time and experience had honed her judgment, allowing her to pick out which customers were more likely to cause trouble. If someone came to her in need, promising to pay later she had to know who really would. And likewise she had to be prepared to spot anyone struggling against the temptation to take. You didn’t run the only real resource for the necessities out here for very long without adapting to survive.
So when the sharp staccato sound of footsteps outside ended at her door, she already knew that they carried someone bent on business other than what her shop provided. It was the driven drumbeat of purpose, the hallmark of impending interrogations. Unfortunately for them, Grandma Grael wasn’t in the mood for playing games.
“Here on official matters,” Sheriff Arbiter announced as he stepped over the threshold to stand just inside the doorway. “Afraid I am going to have to ask you to hand over the wanted outlaw known as Gauntlet. We both know he’s been staying here, and unless you comply I’ll have to charge you with obstruction.”
Arbiter stood with his head cocked to the side, an unmistakable look of pride in his posture. His gun was still holstered at his hip, one hand held near it as if to warn that he meant his threat. But all Grandma Grael saw was the same young bully she had watched grow up. The familiar friendly smile she was known for was nowhere to be seen upon her face as she fixed him with a stern stare.
“Now you listen to me, Pierce Arbiter, we both know a lot of things,” Grandma Grael countered. “We both know that you’re no real sheriff; you’re nothing more than a fancied up guard dog for Adrian Taurus. I’ve minded my own business for far too long about the matter. I’ve turned an eye and went on about my way. But you never have learned which critters to leave be.
You’re boss did take that lesson to heart long ago. Let me share that little pearl of wisdom with you; everyone has a past and it’s often best to listen to your elders when they warn you about those who came before you. Adrian’s father knew me well, back when we settled Redemption; he often told him some of the stories about who I used to be. And if you’re curious what that has to do with your situation right now, well, let me clarify it for you.
Adrian would have told you, before you ever even thought to set foot in my store making demands, that it would be the biggest mistake you ever made.” Without any dramatic gesture or attempt to conceal the fact Grandma Grael let the barrel of a shotgun rest atop her counter, pointed directly at the Sheriff’s chest. Her eyes had the look of cold steel as she dared him to call her bluff.
“For the record,” she continued to explain. “They used to call me Gun-Bunny Grael. My past wasn’t exactly a pleasant one, and I have tried to put it behind me. But I have watched you bend the law to suit your own corrupt and perverse needs once too many. So, I am going to give you the only warning you’ll get from me – to show you that I am a little more merciful than I was in my youth. This isn't a pea-shooter pup, so unless you want some holes in you I suggest you run along back to your big-headed boss and deliver this message; he crossed the line.”
While Pierce listened to her every word, his eyes found it difficult to remove their focus from where they remained fixed on Grandma Grael’s trigger finger. And it was hovering within a hair of a very messy end to his mortality. He had heard a handful of stories, whispered conversations mostly from some of the older townsfolk after some drinking about some old wildcat woman. They had called her Gun-Bunny, he knew that much, but he had never heard anything more than the occasional old rumor. It was frontier folk tales he figured; more exaggeration than anything, now his doubts were quickly dissipating.
“Alright, you win,” Arbiter admitted with his hands held high, careful to keep them clear from his side arm. “But one way or another something is going to happen to want-to-be hero. The Red-Bull will never tolerate even a single man to interfere with his interests. So my friendly advice to you is to steer clear of him. And as for this, well, I’ll try to forget we had this little unfortunate encounter. But I make no promises others might find you’re lack of respect disappointing.”
“Tuck your tail and get gone pup, this trigger is a might touchy,” Grandma Grael advised. Arbiter found the cold brush of fear tickling its way up his spine. He had no question that she meant it either, and he wasn’t about to risk finding out. So he slowly started to back his way out to the street while his pulse raced in response. The second his heels hit street he wasted no time in putting as much distance between him and the legendary lady. Let her see him run, live today, deal with her later.
As she watched the sorriest excuse for a Sheriff she had ever known sprinting off into the shadows, Grandma Grael allowed herself a chuckle. Pierce was still just a petty punk compared to the kinds of people she used to deal with, he even ran like a frightened critter. In the past he never would have made it past the door to insult her, and on the rare chance that he had never would have made a single step towards the street.
Considering that thought she wrestled to decide if that meant she was slipping, or simply a better person. In the end she shrugged it aside as something that didn’t matter. Something told her that shortly word would start to spread of how the infamous Gun-Bunny was hopping once more. It was more than enough to make her smile again while she laughed. Who’d have ever thought that would happen? For some folks, she supposed, old habits were just too stubborn to be rid of though.
Episode 28 – The Deputy Delivers
Outside the Sheriff’s office a small boy was sitting, waiting for him as Deputy Rook approached. The small glimmer, of what he could only guess was hope in the child’s eye, was a warm and welcome sight. “May I be of service young man,” Rook dutifully offered, sounding every bit the dedicated Deputy.
“Is it true, sir,” the boy found his words stumbling as he tried to spit them out. He even fidgeted with his hands as he refused to meet Rook’s eyes. “I, um, I mean - is what everyone saying correct; did this Gauntlet fellow really just run the Bloody Bachelor right out of town?”
Rook had to admit there was more curiosity to the question then the usual accompanied fear he was used to hearing. But then again he couldn’t clearly recall the last time that, well, anyone willingly came by the office to ask about anything official. Things in Redemption seemed t
o be changing; at least that much he couldn’t argue with.
“I think I can honestly say that it is true,” Rook confirmed and as he did saw a genuine grin spring to life at the news. “As a matter of fact, I just came from looking into the whole thing and my official report is that two members of the Bull-Boys will be in the dirt directly. I suppose this town might owe this Gauntlet character a debt of gratitude. That’s two gangs of late that he’s single handedly handicapped, and I’d wager if we give him a little more time he might just finish the job.”
There was a newfound glow to the boy after that, as he was almost bursting with visible excitement. “Yeah,” he exclaimed with a sudden hop. “Gauntlet is so great, I bet the Red Bull himself is going to be scared of him!” And as fast as his little legs could carry him the boy took off, obviously eager to share the news.
Rook was still shaking his head and enjoying the kid’s enthusiasm when he entered the office. But as he made it to his desk something nagged at him, a troubling tickle that he couldn’t quite place. A quick glance around the room didn’t really provide anything immediately out of order but the feeling remained. There was something wrong, but what?
The Sheriff had sent him off to check up on the reports of another incident in town while he himself looked into another matter. But apparently he had made it back before the Sheriff. An examination of Arbiter’s desk though told another tale; it spoke volumes that not only had the Sheriff returned but that he had left again in a hurry. Papers were ruffled and left in a mess, not to mention the fact that his keys were missing. And when he looked in the drawer he immediately noted the empty space where he usually kept his gun. Another weapon was missing from the rack along the wall as well.
“What are you up to,” Rook asked aloud as he considered what possible course of action his boss might be up to. The only clue he could find was the hastily scribbled coordinates for a location just outside the edge of town. And there was only one reason he could figure for Arbiter to be interested in visiting such a place; he had to be going to meet with one or possibly both criminal crews.
“I’ve got to warn Marshall,” Rook decided and headed for the door. And the first place he knew to check was the General Good, so he would start there. As he headed off to warn the wily warrior he had to appreciate the ironic humor involved in his choice of residence. Even at a time like this it never did hurt to laugh a little.
♦♦♦
A lone lit lamp greeted Marshall when he slipped inside the shop. Accompanying it was the familiar fresh scent of gun oil that lingered in the air. Patiently perched behind the counter was Grandma Grael herself, a steaming mug before her and a wiped down weapon laying well within reach.
“You had yourself a visitor,” she offered quietly. As if the evening hadn’t already been interesting enough, Marshall reluctantly raised an eyebrow and decided to ask the question he was sure she was simply waiting for. “Now who would want to stop by and pay a visit to little old me, I wonder?”
Grandma Grael fixed him with a stare that made him catch his breath a moment and fall silent as a school boy. How did she do that, he started to wonder and then immediately cast the quandary aside. Something was different; her trademark friendly demeanor was strangely absent. And in its place was a somber seriousness that was altogether unsettling.
“Arbiter stopped by the shop and decided he would just try his luck throwing his weight around,” the little lady explained calmly. “The jury is still out on whether or not I was too easy on him, to be fair. But in the end he did turn tail and run for all he was worth.”
Another look at the shotgun atop the shop counter confirmed that she was deadly serious. “Before you settled here and started this shop…” Marshall found himself beginning to ask before he quickly changed his mind. “That was another time,” Grandma Grael answered anyway. “And needs not be brought up presently, but you mark my words; that boy will be up to something, if he isn’t already.”
“I am afraid that she is right, unfortunately,” Rook added as he revealed himself from behind Marshall. “I didn’t know he had planned to come here looking for you to begin with but now he has disappeared while I was away from the office and it doesn’t look too good. All I have to go on is the fact that he left armed and some coordinates to a place just outside town. I am afraid he may be on his way to meet up with some of those folks who aren’t exactly fans of Gauntlet.”
Somehow, quite surprisingly without meaning to Marshall realized that he might just be watching events unfold according to his plan. Even if he hadn’t quite worked out how to have directed them that way himself, he welcomed any manner of good fortune in that regard. With all his enemies possibly gathering together now was the perfect opportunity to try and take advantage.
“Let me grab a few things and then you can point me in the direction of this meeting spot,” Marshall mentioned. He didn’t bother to wait for the Deputy to respond, or try to object on the matter before he headed for his room. There was no need to waste time debating what would suit his needs or be the best option for the task at hand. Marshall didn’t need a second thought; he went straight to his gear and grabbed exactly what he was looking for.
It only took a moment to confirm that his ‘Hole Maker’ and ‘Scavenger’s Shard’ were ready to be put to use. For good measure he snatched up a few extra handfuls of shells and strapped on a couple extra bits or gear – just in case. Within minutes he returned back downstairs and declared; “let’s get to work.” Without another word he and Rook tipped their hats to Grandma Grael before vanishing back out the door. And a little old lady raised her mug in salute before resting her other on the handle of her gun. It was about to be a long night, and she had no intention of missing a minute of it.
Episode 29 – A Grim Gauntlet
With their booted feet drumming against the dirt Rook guided their way through town in a tireless run. At times Marshall noted that he was indeed thankful that he had made it a point to keep himself in shape. Even so, he couldn’t deny he was equally impressed with the pace his peer was setting for them.
They passed between buildings and cut through anywhere they could to follow the curious course Rook had established. Slung over his shoulder the weight of his rifle was reassuring as it reminded him of its presence, bouncing against his back. He kept a good grip with his left on the hilt of the makeshift blade that hung at his side, careful to keep it from swinging wildly about.
Another sharp turn around a corner and a quick dive to dart between a couple shacks delivered the duo even closer to the edge of town. Marshall began to notice fewer and fewer buildings now when he looked around. And of the ones he found even fewer looked to be in use – or what he would consider in any condition for use. The further out the two of them seemed to get, the more it became clear that out here everyone clung together – they needed each other.
“So, what is your plan this time around,” Rook asked, the question interrupting Marshall’s thoughts on the town. It took him a minute to collect himself, but as he considered the answer he couldn’t think of any way to put it that didn’t make him sound foolish. So he just decided to spit out.
“Nothing subtle, nothing covert; just going to walk in there and make sure I am the only one coming back out.” Hearing the words come out of his own mouth, Marshall admitted that they sounded ludicrous, even to him. But the more the town seemed to disappear behind them, the more he began to realize he didn’t care. Good people had been living in fear for far too long, and they deserved better.
“Do you take special classes on strategy or do you just study lessons on the subject from lunatics,” Rook replied sharply. “You are going in outnumbered, into what might just be a lion’s den full of folks who may or may not be waiting for you to do just that. And your brilliant brainstorm is that you are going to just waltz in to wage war?”
“That about covers it, yeah,” Marshall admitted an obvious air of amusement in his voice. “Would you be expecting anythin
g of the sort,” he asked playfully. The look on Rook’s face was one of absolute shock as it sunk in. It was like he just realized he was about to try to clip a live wire with a pair of steel scissors and someone had just pointed it out.
“You’re right,” he apologized after the stunned look slowly faded from view. “That may actually be a great plan after all. Or completely suicidal; I guess we’re about to find out which.”
Looming before the both them still stood what remained of an old Thunder Rail storage facility. An old out of use set of tracks had already began to rust outside it, and only crumbling crates were still left littered along its exterior. However, somewhat out of place, a strong set of doors still stood complete with a quite capable looking lock. It wasn’t anything modern by any means, not even electronic in fact.
“Before you ask,” Marshall said quietly. “Yes I can bypass that lock, but now is not the time for a lecture on mechanical systems – nor do I want to waste the time in doing so. There is a reason why I call my friend here ‘Hole Maker,’” Marshall declared as he drew the rifle hanging behind him and cocked its lever. “I’m going in the front; you circle around and find yourself another way in. While I have their attention held you see if you can cover me.”
Rook hesitantly started to obey, but paused for a second with a look of concern. “And what if you don’t draw everyone’s attention? Or if they take you out before I can get into position,” he openly objected. “What then?”