Ride or Die(Fate and Gunner)

[Fates.Gamble]

Killian held no pity for the vermin squirming at his feet. In fact, he savored the moment as Walleye howled, writhing while the knife sank deeper. His eyes narrowed as the truth came spilling out; an unfortunate truth, as far as Mack was concerned, but one he did not doubt. A crusty little weasel like the one before him would sell out his own mother if it made the pain stop. Unfortunately for Walleye, however, Killian did not remove his foot, not even at the mention of another Anderson boy coming to scoop this one up. The bounty hunter’s eyes were like burning coals while he stared down at his catch, wondering if that was really all he knew, or if there might be a way to loosen his tongue a just a bit more.

“When?” He demanded, more on the tip of his tongue before being surprised by Ana. Her approach caught Killian by surprise, the hand at his back causing his foot to lift as he hastened around to face her. His fingers were hovering just above the grip of his revolver by the time he realized it was her. He leased a breath, the tension leaving his body, though not entirely. There was little softness in his eyes, the act dropped now that she’d disrupted his interrogation. Ana made up for it, however, by proving to be a wellspring of info herself. If she could really lead him to all of them… But then, it was a lot to take on faith.And even if it were true, he’d have to travel half way across the state, if not the country. Who was to say they wouldn’t move on before then?

Before he could articulate any of these thoughts, Walleye made his presence known, confirming Ana’s story and pleading for relief. Ana gave it a bit sooner than Killian might have liked, knocking the outlaw out cold with a rather impressive kick. At least it shut him up, though many more blows like that to his head and Killian may as well have buried that knife into his black heart rather than his shootin’ hand. He remained silent as he watched her pluck the knife from Walleye’s hand, eyes dropping to the hilt as she passed it back to him, He frowned, partly out of disapproval, partly because he wasn’t entirely sure how to handle this woman anymore.

“For a captive woman, those’re some mighty big liberties you’re takin’” he pointed out, but left it at that upon accepting the knife from her, which he wiped clean on a pant leg before folding the blade and returning it to its rightful pocket. His face soured further, however, once Ana made terms for this little hunting trip of theirs.

“Another bargain?” Killian grumbled, half wondering if it wouldn’t be better cut her loose now that he had a bigger fish on the line. The girl was a little wilder than he liked. Riding on his own, at least, he would always know what to expect. But no man was without his flaws, particularly avarice in Killian’s case. Money meant comfort, and with enough of it, perhaps even a life where a man wasn’t forced to duck bullets every other day. Rounding up the Anderson gang would be a damn good start down that road. Ana herself might have glimpsed some of that avarice, if her final comment was anything to go by. Killian cracked her a slight grin.

“Won’t say I hadn’t considered it,” he admitted. “But a man who don’t keep his word… ‘Suppose that wouldn’t make me much better than this one here.” He gestured to Walleye in his comatose state before folding arms over broad chest, and giving Ana his attention instead. He considered her for a long moment, a calculating look in his eyes as he considered this deal. “Might be I could help you with the law… But returning to the camp? Now that’s a damn fool idea if I ever heard one…” And for what? To appease her sense of guilt? He shook his head with a heavy sigh, scarcely able to believe himself for considering it.

“How far is this camp, exactly?” he asked, entertaining the idea for now. Loss was loss, after all. He’d mourned plenty of his own, so he could hardly blame Ana for her own grief. But that didn’t change his priorities. “And what of this Hal, fella?” Killian added, never one to look a gift horse in the mouth.” Our buddy here says he’s on his way, but you didn’t give him much chance to say when.” But whatever her answer, Killian had to make a decision in the here and now. “Regardless, we’re not ridin’ off anywhere in the dark. We’ll camp here for the night, the rest can wait ‘til mornin’.”

First and foremost, however, he had to keep ole’ Walleye from bleeding to death there in the dirt. Therefore, Killian fetched some supplies from his saddle and begrudgingly planted himself beside the outlaw to bandage his hand. A curious glance was passed to Ana once she began to settle in, though he looked away soon enough, eyes turning back to his work.

“I’m sorry, by the way…” He said, still keeping his eyes averted. “I know we don’t exactly see eye to eye but… What Mack and his boys did… Well, no one should be subjected to it. I understand why you wanna lay those girls to rest, even if I think it’s a fool’s choice.”

 

[LilGunner]

Killian seemed less than enthused about striking another bargain with her. Well the first one worked out rather well in her honest opinion, why not another? It wasn't like they were friends, hell, they were barely even allies. What other way to operate but deals and bargains between them? Thus far it seemed they at least kept their word. Killian was keen to point that out as well, gesturing to Walleye. Real men, and women, kept their word. She looked up at Killian as he folded his arms across his expansive chest, glowering down at her condemning her notions about returning to the camp. Ana's lips pursed somewhat in equal annoyance with his. She opened her mouth to argue. If he didn't want help finding Mack and his boys that was fine by her but she was going to the camp the second he gave her Vlad's papers back.

She didn't get a chance to make the sentiment known as he seemed to relent, just a little even if just curiously. "Pretty far," she admitted. She'd been on the road for near two weeks, albeit slow going, before she encountered Killian. "Clear east, south a'Annesburg, west a' Van Horn." It's not like she could lie to him about it. "If ya wanna wait f'Hal I suppose should be possible. Don't rightly know how many boys he'll have with 'im," she said with a mild shrug. "'Course he's not likely t'stay long, not with those corpses about."

His decision to stay suited her well enough. Had to be well past midnight and she was more than ready for some shut eye. It had been a trial of a day. Ana set herself near the fire as Killian went and tended to Walleye's hand. She sat on Vlad's saddle blanket, watching Killian work even as he seemed to forcefully keep his eyes on the task at hand. Her brows rose as Killian spoke up once again. Ana's teeth clenched some but after a moment she huffed a long sigh and laid back with the saddle as a hard pillow. "It's them what need yer sympathies, not me Mister Killian," she grumped at him. "Least their deaths were likely quick." Ana wasn't entirely thrilled Killian seemed to piece together the goings on with the gang. Last thing she wanted was to be viewed as some weak, mewling creature that needed protection. She quietly fumed for a time, staring up at the clear night sky.

"Don't s'pose ya care that one of the boys' hideaways ain't too far from the camp?" She asked after a time. "North, far north a'Annesburg. Near that big ol' waterfall," she said as she raised her arms and spread her hands apart to illustrate the grander of the massive falls. "Got spots they go...don't know who t'where though. Seen the map a time or two, marks of the places but dunno who we'll find. All across the country, no more'n two in one state. If ya lookin' f'good payin Mack and his boys'll fetch a hefty sum." If one thing could tempt a man, besides a woman, it was money. "Money's yours s'long as ya don't let me starve on the trail." A generous offer for sure. Ana rolled to her side, propping herself up on her elbow to look over at Killian. "And i'm not foolin' ya. I just wanna see them yellow bellied bastard hang. Or shoot em m'self but I suppose you'd prefer the alive price," she added with a dark little chuckle.

 

[Fates.Gamble]

‘Pretty far’ was about the furthest thing from what Killian wanted to hear. He remained silent over the admission, chewing on his thoughts and damning himself for even considering this. What did he care for Ana’s grievances? Why should he travel clear across New Hanover to humor this foolhardy errand of hers? And furthermore, where did she even conjure up the gall to ask for such a liberty? She was still a walking 20 dollars, and he’d done worse for less. So, why even contemplate any of this?

Maybe I should just quit while I’m ahead, Killian thought to himself as he finished up bandaging Walleye’s hand. The amount of money this one outlaw would fetch him would have his pockets fuller than they’d been in some time. $100.00 was a lot to put on the line, double the reward or not. Ana made a good point about the men and corpses. The Anderson gang had no lack of muscle, and even if they could intercept them in time, their window would be small. A smart man would turn tail and flee at the sign of such a massacre. Going after him would be leaving too much to chance, and Killian had always been a shit gambler. But that didn’t always keep him from playing his hands…

Killian shoved the outlaw’s hand away from him, proving far less gentle and careful now that the cur didn’t run the risk of bleeding to death. His deep blues found Ana where she lay when she spoke, noting the tension in her movements and the bitter note in her voice. His words of kindness hardly seemed well expected; or perhaps Ana was more so annoyed that Killian saw a glimpse of her wounds and managed to piece it all together. In fact, her story was nothing unusual to him. He’d dealt with enough lowdown hucksters to understand every manner of cruelty. The world was in no short supply of wicked men.

Killian rose back to his feet and dusted off his knees. “I reckon the dead don’t have much use for sympathies,” he told her bluntly. “It’s us who outlive them that're left to carry the pain of it.”

He left it at that, turning away from Ana to approach Dagda. The shire hardly took notice of Killian, continuing to graze while he rifled about the saddle to collect his bed roll and a coil of rope. His eye fell on the weapons he’d relieved from his unexpected companion, to whom he passed a suspecting glance. There was always a chance she could go for one of the weapons while he slept, but fortunately Killian was a light sleeper, and Dagda was likely to make a fuss if anyone but his rider got too handsy. It as most fortunate for Ana, however, as it meant Killian only needed enough rope for one prisoner now.

He returned to Walleye and made quick work of lashing him up, tying the ropes tightly around wrists and ankles alike. The unconscious criminal mumbled and babbled as he was manhandled, though it was nothing but confused dribble. After the amount of blows Ana delivered to the bastard’s head, he wouldn’t be rousing anytime soon. But now that he was secure, Killian couldn’t care less if he did. He let the man fall like dead weight, dropping face first into the dirt, where he remained a comatose mess. He left him there with a weary sigh, moving on to spread out his bedding on the other side of the fire, separating himself from Ana by way of the licking flames between them. Unlike her he left Dagda saddled up and ready to go. It was a little less comfortable for his stalwart partner, but he’d learned never to take chances with a bounty in tow. All too often their ‘friends’ came looking to get them back, and whoever said Hal would be waiting until morning?

He kept the fire going for now, enjoying its warmth and its glow as he settled down into his bedding, resting his weary bones and aching muscles a spell. He removed his hat, setting it down beside him before he lay back and took in the endless sky and the seemingly infinite number of stars dotting it. Ana’s voice perked up before he could truly relax, however, and his brows lifted as she found a way to sweeten the deal. Had she mentioned this camp was right along the way to another of Mack’s cronies, he might not have been so on the fence about it.

“Out near Brandywine Drop?” He inquired, thinking back, “Sure, I know it.” It’d been some time since he was last in Annesburg, but those falls were well known. “Pay’s all that matters to me,” he admitted over her proposed deal, smirking some at the terms. “You get me another Anderson boy or two and I’ll treat you to a damn feast.” He promised, though the taste of all that green was the only delicacy on his mind. “’Reckon that’ll get you in good with the law, as well. Can’t say I’ve got much pull with the sheriff in Valentine but maybe back in…”

Killian set his jaw, silencing himself and perishing the thought for now. Even if he were willing to go back home, West Elizabeth was the exact opposite of the direction they were heading. The idea of traveling across the country with a girl he was basically holding at gunpoint was almost as off putting as facing the life he’d left behind. He couldn’t even bring himself to mail a letter to them, now he was contemplating riding back into town with a gypsy girl in tow?

“Let’s just survive this damn trip to Valentine and go from there,” he decided irritably. “Nevermiind. Hal, One Walleye is a good enough catch for me. Besides, the way you’ve been smacking him about; poor bastard might not make it to Valentine if we take much longer. Just be sure you’re ready to ride come mornin’.”

Killian’s talkative mood shrank back away as the bounty hunter shoved himself back up to smother the flames. They didn’t need a beacon drawing any stragglers to their little camp by the river. Once the fire was rendered down to smoldering embers, Killian settled back into his bedroll and tried to relax. It proved frustratingly difficulty, however, when surrounded by two individuals who had more than enough motive to cut his throat in the night. But he was nothing if not a cautious man. His removed gunbelt was kept dangerously close, fingers resting no more than a couple of inches from the grip of his holstered revolver. And within the folds of his blankets his hand clutched around the hilt of the very same penknife he’d used to assail the outlaw sleeping among them.

Yet, even with all these precautions, sleep was slow to find him. His mind lingered on the untrustworthy pair sleeping in the night. He could hear them breathing, his ears honed in on the slightest sounds of movement. He listened for Ana in particular… But he could not entirely decide if that was because her arms and legs were free to move about, or a budding curiosity that was growing inside of him. But even more than the criminals resting around him, his thoughts turned towards home. His mind latched onto the old memories like a magnet, persisting even after he found his slumber. Twisted dreams coiled through his mind, preying upon his anxieties. Worst of all was the memory of a grizzled, bloodied face staring up at the double barrels of his shotgun with a maniacal grin. He couldn’t count how many nights he relived the moment.

“Gonna murder me in cold blood, are ya, son?” His victim would say, sputtering with a laugh. “You’re an O’Malley alright. Just like your dear ole’ Da.”

It was the last thing Killian would hear from the man before pulling the trigger, only to awaken to the hazy sky of early dawn with a start. His heart was racing as he suddenly shot up, mind piecing everything together as he surveyed his surroundings, and checked for the two outlaws he’d taken custody of.

 

[LilGunner]

Brandywine drop? Sure. She had no idea what the landmark was called. There were rumors of some crazy scientist who had made a laboratory up that way. It had been left to rot over the years though ever since he had died mysteriously. Ana couldn't help a small, high laugh at the offer of a feast. "Don't know about a feast, girl's gotta keep her figure," she said as she ran her hands along the front of her vest. Even in her light mirth she didn't fail to notice his sudden halt. Back in where? Curious, very curious indeed. Of course, she had her own secrets too. A few he had sniffed out thanks to Walleye's big, stupid mouth...and her own. That was only a few years worth though.

She let the silence hang. Despite her curiosity they weren't exactly on terms enough to exchange life stories over a snifter of brandy. In all technicalities, as he was keen to remind her, she was still a sort of prisoner. The finality of the conversation from him was met with a shrug. "Valentine first then," she agreed as she rolled onto her back while he got up to smother out the flames. "Sleep well Mister Killian," she said politely enough before letting her eyes close. For the first time in two weeks she felt at ease enough to fall asleep nearly straight away. Never mind the odd predicament, it was nice to be able to fall asleep with another person nearby. The road alone was a dangerous one. Bone weary and safe enough to sleep Ana slept that hard, dark, dreamless sleep.

Ana woke with the sun as it turned the sky shades of soft, dove grey and gentle pink. She had barely moved in her sleep, simply having curled up and onto her side. Such a position, using the saddle as a pillow, put a terrible kink in her neck. Ana gave a quiet groan and sat up, her untamed black hair a mess and puffed up on the right side. She yawned widely and rubbed her neck, blinking the sleep from her eyes. Had to get up and get coffee going or the boys would get their knickers in a wad. With another yawn she stretched like a lazy cat and rubbed her neck. Only then did she remember where she was. Ana froze and glanced around seeing Walleye, still trussed up like holiday hog and unconscious, and Killian still asleep. So no coffee. Ana glowered a moment before sighing and stood up for another stretch before going to the river to splash her face and fix her hair. She could really use a bath. Her stomach gave a grumbling squeal and she realized it'd been a full day since she last ate. Shame her weapons had been taken. No, she still had her knife at least. Ana removed her boots and rolled up her britches to wade into the river.

Still before Killian woke she had managed to catch a couple small fish. Not much meat but better than an empty stomach. She haphazardly gutted and clean them, taking the meager fillets of meat and getting the fire blown back to a soft crackle. She held the fish over the small fire she had gotten going again with a pair of sticks to cook. The sudden, jolting movement to her left mad her head whip around. Her head tilted at the bolt up, pale face of Killian. First time she'd seen him without the hat on, he did have quite a fine head of hair. Bright and red like a fox pelt. Ana gave him a small grin before turning her attention back to the fish, kneeling by the fire with her bare feet and britches rolled up to her knees. "Good morning Mister Killian," she said pleasantly enough. "I'd ask if ya slept well but ya look like ya just seen ghost. Got a bit of breakfast goin', be ready soon enough."

The fillets were small, more an appetizer than anything else but it was better than an empty belly. Ana finished her portion quickly so she could dress herself properly again and go saddle Vlad up again. She let Killian get on with loading up Walleye while she stamped out the fire and cleaned off her knife. Soon enough she was up on Vlad's back and ready to head to Valentine. While ready to move on her stomach twisted to knots. What if they showed up with Walleye and she was arrested on the spot? Larceny and blackmail were one thing but horse theft warranted hanging. Lord, what if she'd been played a fool and Killian just turned her in? She quickly grew quiet and stony with the thought. Part of her wanted to ask Killian if he'd even vouch that she helped him get Walleye but he could very well lie. The twisting in her gut only grew worse the closer to Valentine they drew.

 

[Fates.Gamble]

Killian remained lost in his dark reverie, his mind all a muddle while he roused. His eyes landed on Walleye first, with some of his clarity returning once he found the outlaw trussed up and lying unconscious, just like he’d left him. Ana was quick to grab his attention though, her declaration of ‘Good morning’ night as startling as the dream that woke him. Killian found her kneeling by a re-stoked fire, the sweet aroma of the cooking fish hitting him at the same time. The smell might have whet his appetitie, but after his visions Killian was left nauseous with a sour taste in his mouth. He could only avert his eyes and nod in response. Oh, he’d seen a ghost alright; one he’d rather remained dead and buried where it belonged.

He did his best to leave it that way, disregarding the dream as he shuffled about, getting back to his feet and stretching his weary back. His deep blues drank in the morning sky, the last colors of sunrise fading away to grant a rich, cerulean canvas. It was certainly a beautiful morning, the rays of sunshine shimmering across the surface of the river stretched out before their little camp. His attention flicked back to Ana for a moment, eyeing the bounty now roasting on the fire. She must have woken up a decent time before him to have caught that many fish, and with nothing more than her own hands. Or that knife she pulled… Rookie move, letting her hang onto that.

Definitely should have frisked her better, he considered to himself before turning away from his barefoot cook, and fetching his gun belt up off the ground. Killian restored the belt to its proper place, then ambled on down to the water’s edge, where he scooped up a crisp handful to wash that sour taste out of his mouth. With another handful, he splashed his face, washing away the grit and waking himself up a bit. He didn’t linger for long, however. They had a long ride ahead of them, and while Ana tended to breakfast Killian prepared for it. He returned the cook pot to Dagda’s saddle then fetched his canteen to refill at the river as well. Once everything was settled and Walleye was the last thing to load up, he joined Ana for breakfast, rumbling his thanks for the morsel, measly as it was.

He was quick to insist the move on after that, leaving Ana to tend to the fire and see her horse saddled while Killian lashed the outlaw on good and tight; didn’t need him falling off the damn horse if they had to get away at a gallop. Someone was sure to find that mess at the station soon, assuming they hadn’t already. That someone could easily be Hal. He doubted the low down son of a bitch would be heroic enough to try and rescue Walleye, but he might just be vengeful enough. But even if not, riding through the heartlands with $100.00 lashed to the back of your saddle was sure to draw all sorts of unsavory attention. Who knew what they’d run into?

“We’ll ride along the shore 'til Caliban’s Seat,” Killian explained to Ana, burying his fiery mane back under his hat once they mounted up. “Then we’ll take the road into Valentine.”

It was about all that Killian said, as the bounty hunter fell into a stony silence once they were off, their steeds carrying them north across the pebbly shore of the Dakota river. Though he’d done his best to put it behind him, his mind was filled to the brim with the ghost of his past, the dream haunting him even as they rode on to Valentine. The large paycheck that would be awaiting him in town should have been what consumed his attention, but instead he was left disconcerted. It had to be a bad omen, reliving that moment, and that left him all kinds of skeptical. Like Ana, he only grew more twisted up the closer they grew the Valentine. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was on the horizon, though he couldn’t rightly say what.

You’re just being paranoid, Killian told himself by the time they made it to Caliban’s seat, their mounts lead away from the river which wound left, to continue further on north. Just need to get a warm meal and stiff drink in me… But that would require getting to Valentine and dropping this fool off in one piece. And even if they didn’t run into trouble, Killian was fully aware that Ana could bring about some of her own. By the time they cut through the fields and reached the fork in the road, Killian could no longer remain silent about it.

“Assuming your face is plastered up on the walls of the sheriff's station,” he began to say, coaxing Dagda towards the right, once they reached the fork, “How are we planning to go about this?” She couldn’t exactly waltz right up with him to deliver a bounty while she had one on her head. Nor was Killian overly thrilled with the idea of leaving her off on her own to cause havoc while he took the time to do it.

It might just have to come to that, though, he reasoned. As much as he would have liked it to be, this was going to be no quick in and out job. There was still a good couple hours before they’d reach the town, and by the time he handed Walleye over and shopped for the supplies they’d need, most of the daylight would be spent. Ideally they could spend the night at the inn and hit the road fresh in the morning. But how was he supposed to get away with that if he had a wanted criminal on his arm?

‘Suppose we’ll have to make it there first, Killian grumbled inwardly. Now that they were on the road, it would only be a matter of time before they ran into a wayfarer or two.

 

[LilGunner]

It should have been a beautiful day. Warm, a bit hot for some folk but she had grown up where the air could stifle like a hot kettle rag, and bright. Birds sang in the trees and they scared up quite a bit of game that had ventured out for a drink. A fine herd of doe scampered off and a few flocks of ducks noisily fled their approach. Any other time Ana might be humming or singing an old tune as they plodded on down the river. Instead the pair were utterly silent, both absorbed in their own thoughts. Turmoil raced through Ana's mind and twisted up her guts fiercer than a cyclone passing over a twine store. She kept glancing over at Killian who's own craggy countenance only churned her guts more. Was he weighing out the benefit of having her around against an extra ten dollars? She wanted to think she might be able to trust him a little; he hadn't trussed her up like a Christmas goose and let her keep the knife after he learned she had one. Of course trust had gotten her into an awful pickle before.

They made it to Caliban's Seat and turned north for Valentine. Dagda plodded along beside Vlad's high stepped walked. Side by side it was clear the pair were from very different worlds even if one was trying to blend into the other. Her head perked up as Killian broke their tormented silence. Dark brows rose curiously and a little suspiciously. Well perhaps he might be a man of his word after all. "Can't say I'm keen walkin' right up t'the sheriff," she said before turning her green eyes back on the road ahead. "But my name can't be cleared unless I confront 'em either." Ana heaved a long sigh that didn't clear out the bats in her gut as well as she had hoped. There was a small hope, very small. They might not be in Lemoyne but her family named carried a modicum of weight across the states. "Let's just go in, hope fer the best. Vlad's papers should at least prove I ain't no horse thief and take a hangin' off the table."

Despite the definitive, confident nature of the words Ana didn't exactly feel that way. The closer they drew to Valentine the paler the tanned olive complexion got and she startled worse than a hare in a fox den. The small auction town could be seen at long last. Decently bustling but no where near St. Denis. Ana's regal riding posture faltered and she hunkered a bit in her small saddle, trying to let her thick fall of curling, dark hair hide her face. Being on a smaller horse she hoped folk would be more likely to look at Killian on his massive, impressive steed with a trussed up bounty behind the saddle.

They made it to the Sheriff's office without any trouble, just a few stares and whispers. Ana slid off of Vlad and hitched him to the post, her movements stiff and jerking. She hitched up Dadga for Killian to let him handle Walleye then followed him into the Sheriff's office.

Curtis Malloy looked up from reading the paper, his booted feet kicked up onto his desk. His thick mustache gave a twitch as he saw Killian step in with a hog tied man. For a moment little more than annoyance at having to get up crossed his face. Some cheap bounty that some random wannabe hunter rustled up. Just an instant though. He recognized Killian. Who could forget that ginger crop of hair? Then his grey eyes jumped down to the man in hand and nearly fell out of his head. "Holy pig shit," he said and jumped to his feet. "Is that...holy hell it is! Ol' Walleye himself and ya brought him in alive...right? Man's alive?" He asked as he came around the desk to get a better look at the outlaw. It was when he came around that he noticed the woman walking in Killian's wake. "Oh! Beggin' yer pardon ma'am," he quickly apologized for his language before getting a good look at the green eyed Romani woman.

"Two Killian?! Well I'll be! Her I thought you'd never bring me a live one," he said with a jovial laugh. "Toss em in a cell and I'll get yer money."

"Now you hang on one minute there sir," Ana said moving into better view. Curtis looked up, noting she was not bound up or cuffed but following willingly behind. His hand edged to his pistol, grey eyes wary.

"Just what in Sam Hill is going on here?" Curtis' eyes jumped between Ana and Killian. Ana was quick to put her hands at shoulder height so guns wouldn't go blazing. Thus far things were going about as well as she had suspected.

"Please, just...just listen mister Sheriff....sir. I know I done wrong fallin' in Mack Anderson and his ilk...and some of those charges are true, but I ain't no horse thief at least and...and I'd like a chance t'make amends with the law." Ana's heart was hammering painfully in her chest but she kept herself still as a frightened doe, hand raised, voice steady.

 

[Fates.Gamble]

For a moment, Killian assumed they were of one mind. Walking up to the sheriff didn’t just put her life in danger, but his reputation as well. What would a law man think if they learned he’d decided to save a target from the noose? He was already coming up with ideas; likely places for Ana to wait out the storm while he collected on the bounty. Yet, before he could speak on any of them, Ana revealed her intentions to confront the man, rather than avoid him.

Killian passed her a hesitant look. “Alright, then,” he said dryly, deciding to keep his reservations to himself. Even so, placating the sheriff would be no walk in the park. He’d dealt with the lawman a couple of times in the past, always with a bounty a little less fresh than Walleye, but not enough to judge what sort of man he was. The last thing he wanted to do was rub a viable source of income the wrong way; Or worse yet, have his face end up on one of those posters for siding with an outlaw. She was right about Vlad’s papers at least, but even having associated with the Anderson gang could be enough to earn her a hanging.

If it goes sour, I’ll just hand her over for the money, Killian decided, his attention turning back to the road stewing over his perfidious thoughts. If Curtis wanted her that bad, he could have her; whatever kept him from joining Ana at the gallows.

The tension brought on by that possibility only increased as they neared Valentine. Killian could smell the town before he saw it, the pungent odor of livestock wafting on the breeze to hit them full force. He assumed Ana’s look of queasiness had more to do wih their impending meeting than it did the aroma, leaving him to question whether she would even go through with this. But even as they approached the muddy outskirts of Valentine, she made no effort to turn back. Daciana may have been a spitfire, but she had some resolve.

While she hunkered down, ebony hair falling to hide her face, Killian sat tall and stoic. The bounty hunter looked a dangerous site atop his brute force, their combined arsenal and an unconscious outlaw strapped to the saddle. Compared to the heavily armed stranger at her side, Ana received little more than a glance. But those in the thoroughfare knew better to invite trouble. Once they caught an eyeful of Killian and his trussed up catch, the onlookers quickly averted their gaze and shuffled about their business.

“I sure hope you know what you’re doing,” Killian said, noting the nervous way Ana moved about the horses. She looked stiff as a board, but she’d made her bed, and now she would have to lie in it. He dismounted while she hitched the mounts, hefting Walleye from Dagda’s hindquarters to sling him over a broad shoulder. He spared Ana no second look, depriving her of any reassurance as he moved passed her and entered the sheriff’s office. He could hear her trailing behind, mousy compared to the weighty steps of his boots.

Based on his reaction at their arrival, Curtis looked about as eager to bargain with a criminal as Ana was a lawman. It might not have bode well for her pardon. If his eyes hadn’t gone brighter than the lights of Saint Denis upon recognizing Walleye. Where the outlaw was worth hard cash to Killian, he knew the repute his capture would give the sheriff. Taking out renown criminals was the best way to win elections to ensure his post. And leverage to increase it…

“Should be,” Killian answered the sheriff’s question. Honestly, he wasn’t sure with how Walleye had slept straight through the ride, but a quick toss to the hard ground was enough to rouse the scoundrel with a grunt of pain. That was as far as their business could proceed before Curtis noticed Ana, his eyes sparking with recognition soon enough. The bounty hunter merely stepped aside, letting Ana make his case before he revealed which side of this he stood on. The sheriff was like a coiled spring, hand jumping for his holster, and Killian had to remind himself not to go reaching for his own, despite the inclination. Ana’s plea came out heartfelt enough, a deserving touch of fear to her voice. But Curtis remained silent, eyes furious and mistrusting as they leapt between Ana and Killian.

“She’s been truthful so far,” Killian added to her case, showing the man he meant no harm before retrieving the papers he’d confiscated from her. Curtis’ stormy eyes settled on Killian like a hawk while he shuffled over to snatch up the papers from his hand. His grubby fingers had little regard for the oiled envelope or fine vellum as he scanned the words. Meanwhile, Walleye wobbled about on the floor, blear eyes looking up to realize where he was.

“You whoreson!” He shouted Killian’s way. “The boys will gut you for this! They’ll have you begging--”

“Shut that ugly mug of yer's!” Curtis snapped at the outlaw, before handing the papers back to Killian with a disastisfied grunt. “And I’m just supposed to forget about the larceny and blackmail?” His attention settled on Ana as though she were of the most unsavory sort. “Them fancy papers don’t absolve you of your crimes. Hangin’ ‘round them Anderson fellers… I’ll bet horse thievin’ was the least of your sins.”

The sheriff stepped forward, intent on apprehending her, but Killian stepped forward, coming between them with a last ditch effort. “I never would have gotten Walleye without her,” said Killian, attempting to reason with the man. “Certainly not alive, anyway. And with her help I can get you more. Why settle for small potatoes when I can bring you gold? Let her walk out of this place and I'll bring you two more of them Andersons; alive if I can.” Curtis had a greedy look in his eye, though he appeared to grapple with indecision, prompting Killian to go on.


“Just think, Curtis Malloy, the man responsible for hanging no less than three Anderson boys. Maybe even Mack himself, if we can manage it. With an achievement like that under his belt, a man just might make marshal someday.”

“And if the girl can’t deliver?”

“Then I’ll drag her back in here myself, free of charge.”

Curtis hesitated, fingers playing with his mustache while he considered the proposal. It was a long uncomfortable moment filled with the muttering and curses of the outlaw squirming on the ground, before the sheriff finally decided.

“Fine, you bring me those two Anderson boys and you’ve got yourself a pardon. But I’m only givin' you two weeks, you hear?” Curtis’ eyes bore into Ana, his skepticism and doubt as clear as day. “Two weeks to deliver, or I’ll raise that bounty of yours so high that every hunter this side of New Austin looks to ride you down.”

“Alright then,” Killian agreed to the terms, knowing full well they wouldn’t get a better deal.

“Good,” he grumbled, retreating back to his desk. “Now get ole’ Bill there put away and we’ll settle accounts.”

Killian obliged, hefting the agitated outlaw back up long enough to drop him off in a cell. He left him fuming there to collect his money for Curtis, who appeared more reluctant than over upon handing it over.

“I’m trustin' you here, boy. If that snake of a woman causes any more trouble…”

“You’ve got my word,” the bounty hunter assured him before pocketing his money, and bidding him farewell with a tip of the hat. “We’ll see you in two weeks.” He made the statement with a note of confidence, yet once they;d stepped out of the office and back into the open air, Killian immediately consulted Ana.

“Two weeks... Think you can find 'em in that time?” She mentioned one of them was like to be in a hideout near their old camp, but even that venture would take them clear across New Hanover. Perhaps he’d bitten off more than he could chew in promising Curtis a third catch.

 

[LilGunner]

Ana held herself as still as possible, both hands still raised to shoulder height. Her heart hammered in her throat and her guts seemed to have fallen out. She heard her teeth squeak against one another as her jaw clenched when Curtis snatched Vlad’s papers. Proof at least of her innocence of being a horse thief. Though it would be nice if he handled the papers with a touch more delicacy. Walleye cut in with a slew of curses Killian’s way but was silenced with the Sheriff’s sharp words.

“Well I-“ she started but slammed her mouth shut as Curtis stepped towards her. Her body gave a little jerk to step back but stopped as Killian stepped forward. For a second everything stopped. She hadn’t entirely expected Killian to actually stand up for her. Her lips parted and chin hung down in surprise at the defense and attempt to reason with the Sheriff. Maybe she had to give the man a bit more credit. She’d fully expected he would just let her try and to hell with her if Curtis didn’t want to listen. Green eyes danced between the sheriff and the bounty hunter. The tiniest flicker of hope lighted in her gut at the greedy, interested war on the Sheriff’s face.

The world canted and shifted with Curtis’s agreement to the deal only to come into harsh focus with the time line. Ana’s mouth opened to argue but snapped shut with a click. It was the best she could hope for given the circumstances. She stayed put, hands still raised, as Killian hefted up Walleye again to drop him in a cell and collect his fee from the Sheriff. With a parting warning she followed Killian out giving the Sheriff an awkward grin before leaving.

Outside she finally let her arms fall with a shudder. Her heart still pounded in her chest and the sickening knot in her stomach meant her guts finally returned. Killian was quick to ask if two weeks was enough time. Ana was quiet, her face near drained of color to an odd sandy grey. Her fingers shook as she reached into her pocket to take out a cigarette and matches. It took three tried and two matches to get the cigarette lit. She took a long draw, inhaling the sweet comfort of tobacco, before huffing an equally long sigh.

“Got no choice, do I?” She finally responded, her eyes distant as she stared off at nothing in particular. “Either that or tuck up with Walleye in that there cell, waitin’ fer the hangman.” After another long drag she finally turned to look up at Killian. The color was coming back to her face a little with the soothing blanket of nicotine. Somehow Killian looked different all of a sudden. Like some cloud had lifted from him. A dark and ominous cloud of fear and mistrust. She caught herself staring and exhaled the held smoke with a light clearing of her throat. “Thank you, by the way Mister Killian…fer steppin’ in. Didn’t rightly expect…well…never mind. Just thanks,” she said with the tiniest quirk of her lips to a smile.

“Two weeks…not a heap of time,” she with sudden and forced confidence. She took a final drag of her cigarette before dropping the butt and stomping it out. “If I had a map I could mark whereabouts I’m sure they are headin’ but I know one off the cuff. North-a Annesburg, like I said. Now…if I was makin’ the calls I’d say take a train to Annesburg and ride north from there. Seein’ as yer the only one with money now it’s yer decision. Maybe we can get hold of a map and I can mark the spots I saw on ol’ Mack’s map, decided where t’go from there. Hard part’ll be bringing two at the same time…” she trailed off but shook her head. “Decisions fer later.”

With such a time limit she was certain they wouldn’t have time to stop at the old camp. Hopefully some good Samaritan would happen by and give the women some kind of send off they deserved. At any rate they could use supplies and that would have to be first. She moved to the horses to take her saddle bags down, eyes falling to her weapons still stored on Killian’s saddle. “Don’t suppose you’ll let me have my guns back?” She asked with a little smirk. Her trust in him had increased exponentially with that incident with Curtis though she wasn’t so sure the man felt the same.

 

[Fates.Gamble]

Despite the success, the visit to the sheriff’s office seemed to do little to improve their moods. Ana was clearly relieved to be rid of the place but she looked a nervous wreck all the same. The color had drained from her face while fidgety hands worked to light up a cigarette. When she finally spoke, words exhaled in the wake of a puff of smoke, Killian sighed right along with her. He wasn’t sure why he’d expected any other answer; the two week stipulation felt like a noose around his neck from the first. Why he ever agreed to such a thing was beyond his ken, as well as Ana’s, judging by the way she gawked at him.

No sooner than Killian caught her staring did Ana shy away her gaze, chasing away the frog in her throat before offering up her awkward apology. The bounty hunter scoffed with a touch of dark amusement and shook his head in disbelief.

“Didn’t rightly expect I would either, if I’m to be honest,” Killian admitted, passing the woman a sideways glance. “It ain’t like me to be choosin’ hucksters over money. But don’t you go thankin’ me just yet, Miss Lovara. I’ve only loosened the noose about your neck, not freed you of it. I’ve no intention of sullyin’ my reputation with your name, either. If we can’t deliver, I’ll still be the one to hand you over. So you’d best wipe that smile away and get to thinkin’ about how we’re gonna nab these bastards.”

To her credit, Ana got right to it, seemingly gathering up her confidence with a hard drag of her cigarette before stomping it out and contemplating their next move. Her line of thinking was hard to argue with, but Killian’s face soured at the mention of taking a train to Annesburg. He’d never been much a fan of riding the rails, and Dagda even less so. The great brute wouldn’t load up quietly, yet Killian wouldn’t entertain the idea of leaving him behind, not did he believe Ana would leave Vlad behind. If they took a train the horses would have to come, even if it did cost him a fortune in the end.

It’s an investment, Killian attempted to convince himself, but the payout was growing less appealing by the minute, especially once Ana came to the biggest hitch in their task. Yet, Killian had already arrived at the solution, disappointing as it was.

“That’ll be simple enough,” he said, a dark edge to his voice, “We put a bullet in one of them.” It would half his profit, but less money was a far sight better than juggling two notorious outlaws at once. “Truth be told, Walleye is a bit of an exception for me. I’ve never had much luck at bringin’ my quarry back alive. We’ll take them alive if the opportunity presents itself, but I don’t take unnecessary risks.”

It was Killian’s turn to stare Ana down, albeit with a far more probing gaze. He’d been blunt about his intentions, but when push came to shove, would she feel the same way? She’d attacked Walleye with the ferocity of a bear, but did that hatred burn for everyone in Mack’s gang? It seemed likely, given the pain he saw when Walleye confessed the fate of the other girls, but right now, Ana was an enigma to Killian. She was an oddity he never expected to encounter, and until he understood her better he would reserve his doubts. And those doubts were plain as day once once Ana approached the horses with a hungry look at the weapons loaded on his saddle.

“No,” he bluntly agreed with the suggestion, “Don’t suppose I will. You think I’ve forgotten how you planned to fleece me yesterday? Reform doesn’t happen overnight, and now that we’re in town, I’ll not be givin’ you the ability to stir up trouble. You’ll just have to be happy with that map for now…”

Much like her guns, Killian seemed to have no intention of handing over Vlad’s papers, either. Instead, the bounty hunter tucked it away, storing it along with his unsent letter before joining her at the horses. “Should be a general store down the way,” he explained, callused hands working to untie Dagda from the hitching post. “We’ll stock up there.”

A short trip through the mud would see them to the first of their destinations, where Killian bid Ana stay and keep watch of their goods while he moseyed on in to purchase the things they would need; but not before reiterating that she was not to go reaching for her weapons. It took a bit of prodding and a couple extra dollars, but Killian was able to convince the clerk to hand over his only map on hand, which only made him stingy when it came to the rest of their provisions, which amounted to little more than coffee, hard tack, and a bit of jerky. Anything else, they’d have to hunt or fish for. When it came to ammunition, however, he was far less scrupulous. There was no telling what would happen once they caught up with another one Anderson’s goons, and Killian didn’t plan on running short of bullets if it came down to a fire fight.

Once all their goods were purchased and loaded up, Killian put the sun to their back and struck East. There was still a fair amount of daylight left, perhaps even time to catch an evening train depending on the schedule. But they still had to nail down their plan of action before he would commit to buying tickets for such a venture, and the lush of a bounty hunter could think of no better place to give Ana time with her map than Smithfield’s Saloon. What with the law office overlooking the hitching posts he felt a little better about leaving the horses unattended; that or the promise of whiskey was compelling enough to disregard the thought.

The place certainly wasn’t built on cheery atmosphere, what with its patchy walls and dirty, liquor stained tables. Worse yet was the crowd, a rowdy bunch all hoots and hollers, already deep into a bottle or two. It suited Killian well enough, anyway, who pointed out an empty table in the back to Ana before handing over the folded up map and making his way to the bar. While she secured their spot he secured their drink, ordering himself a whiskey. The bartender returned with bottle and glass in hand, yet Killian stopped him before he could pour out the shot.

“No need for that,” he explained, throwing down enough money for the bottle itself before snatching it out of the man’s hand. He scooped up the glass as well before shoving off and making his way back to Ana at the table. No sooner than he plopped into the seat across from her did Killian tap the bottle, pouring out a tall one for Ana and setting it down in front of her, before taking a swig straight from the bottle for himself. Like liquid fire, the liquor poured down his throat, warming his innards and calming his nerves. Once he had his fill he set the bottle down with a clank and a sigh of relief.

“Now,” he began, pausing long enough for his tongue to sweep over the seam of his lips, catching the bitter nectar that lingered there, “Show me where these bastards are hidin’.”

 

[LilGunner]

Ana’s brows rose with Killian’s admission of infrequently returning live quarry. Whoever had been watching over her the last two days needed a great deal of thanks. Even still he was right, better to bring one back dead and not have to wrangle two live outlaws. Easier to wrangle cats into a bath. Her eyes met his as he stared her down, seeming to search for an answer. Eventually she simply shrugged. Those boys being alive or dead didn’t mean a thing to her. So long as they were in a jail cell if left alive and bound for the noose.

Of course she was mildly disappointed but hardly surprised at the refusal. She huffed a little sigh, glancing back at her fine rifle. Apparently he expected her to keep her own hide alive with her knife and bare hands. Though she gave a teasing yet sheepish grin his way as she unhitched Vlad. “That’s fair I reckon,” she agreed. “For now.”

It wasn’t so far to the general store, just a short slog through mud and horse shit. The horses hitched back up Ana stayed outside as ordered. She could hear the heated debate about relinquishing a map. A shame Killian hardly trusted her really. They might have gotten a better deal if she’d been allowed to sweet talk the man. Instead she took the time to lavish some affection on both horses, as much as Dagda would permit anyways. Seemed they’d be together a while and it made sense to make friend’s with the massive steed.

Fresh supplies purchased Ana helped load up their saddled bags with everything before they headed right for the saloon. Ana followed Killian into the rowdy, backwater bar. Oh she’d been there a time or two when Mack’s gang skulked around the plains, hustling travelers. With a small nod and the map clutched into her fist she headed to a table well away from the drunken regulars. She spread the map out before sitting down, tucking a leg under her to boost herself up to lean over the table and the map, trying to push her hair back from dangling all over the place. She had to turn it a couple of times before getting her bearings with it. By the time Killian came to the table she’d at least found the waterfall north of Annesburg where she was sure one of the boys should be.

Ana glanced up as Killian flopped down in the chair and tapped the bottle of whiskey. She might not be any saint when it came to drinking but was he going to drink that down in one night? Color her impressed. Well not alone clearly. He poured out a tall drink in the glass and set it in front of her before taking a long drink from the bottle. “Cheers,” she said as she picked up the glass and toasted before taking a small drink, her pinky crooked and not touching the glass. Liquid fire, warming and radiating from the chest. She would never admit she still preferred a fine wine or champagne

“Well this here is the first place I reckon we oughta check,” she said as she drew a small X near Donner Falls. “I heard the boys talk there’s a house right near there, used ta be owned by some wider woman. Rumor has it she got herself ate up by a bear. These here…are the other spots I’ve seen on Mack’s map.” She drew more X’s across the map. One on the southern edge of O’Creag’s run, on the west side of Cairn lake, damn near the end of Little Creek River, a little ways west of the Aurora basin, and the last one all the way in New Austin as far north of tumbleweed as anyone could go without scaling mountains.

“Now I figure we go after whoever’s hold up here and here,” she said as she pointed at the X’s at Donner Falls and O’Creag’s run. “Seems the quickest way to fulfill the Sheriff’s wants. Here’s the rub though…I don’t know who is where. I just know this is where the boys run off to lay low a while. Could be a spot has just one, could be it’s got more but no more’n three, Mack’s orders. Mack’ll have two of the lower boys with him as protection, that’s for sure and certain. One’ll be empty though since Walleye’s hold up in a jail cell,” she added with a wickedly pleased grin.

Of course there was one location she elected to leave out but there was no way in hell she would set foot in Lemoyne again if she could help it.

 

[Fates.Gamble]

Killian cocked a brow, the rim of the whiskey bottle pausing at his lips when his eyes fell upon Ana’s dainty fingers. Was she sticking out her pinky like some proper rich girl? Mighty posh for a supposed two-bit outlaw. The bounty hunter’s mind began to fit the pieces together:

The fancy fingers she drank with…
The thoroughbred horse she’d rode in on…
The high-class, lilting, drawl she’d sang him off the road with…

She comes from money, Killian reasoned, eyes narrowing with curiosity and suspicion when Ana bent over the map and began to mark the locations. He hadn’t given it much thought before, but he mulled it over while taking a long pull from his whiskey. Why’d a prim and proper wealthy girl decide to abandon such a cushy life? Better yet, the greedy hunter mused, setting the bottle down and wiping his mouth with the back of a hand, How much would it be worth the drag her back there?

A rich daddy who missed his little girl was sure to be more profitable than a grumpy sheriff hoping to snap her neck. Even so, fat lot of good it would do him with the information he had now. So, for the time being, Killian put a pin in that idea, and focused on the more tangible path to money instead. His gaze settled on the first X that Ana marked, a frown sweeping his face as she offered him a brief bit of history about the spot.

“Bad way to go,” he said of the wilder woman, pausing for another swig while Ana moved on to more potential locations. Bright, attentive eyes followed her movements, drinking in each area she marked and committing it to memory. Three potential camps in Ambarino, another two in West Elizabeth, and one final spot all the way out in New Austin, well past the civilization of Blackwater and further west than Killian had ever been.

“Yeah that’s a reasonable start,” Killian mumbled over her plan before hefting himself up from his seat and topping off her drink, whether she wanted it or not. Maybe if she had enough whiskey her tongue would get slick enough to spit out a few secrets about her dear old daddy. “The rest are all scattered to hell!” he said, plopping back into his chair and taking another pull from the bottle himself. He paused, sucking in a breath as the liquor snaked down to his gullet like a hot coal. Meanwhile, he considered the rub, one which had him releasing said breath with a heavy, irritated sigh.

“Well that might not matter too much, I suppose… I don’t really care which of the bastards we pull in, as long as it’s two of ‘em. But like you said, Walleye had to come from somewhere, and a wise man would put his money on one of those two spots. They’re the closest to Valentine. And that ain’t the only rub,” he grumbled lifting the steadily draining bottle up to his lips again. “You might have gotten the heat off ya in New Hanover, but what about Ambarino?” He gulped another shot, the whiskey going down hard, just like the bottle when he was done, leaving less than half swishing about.

“And not only that, but, where’s this camp with all them women you’re lookin’ to pay your respects for? Annesburg is a ways east of Donner Falls. I thought you were talkin’ ‘bout Brandywine Drop up north here,” he explained, reaching out to tap the location on the map. “If we’re headin’ to Donner Falls it’d be quicker to jump off at Bacchus station.”

Either way it was her skin, so Killian let her mull it over while he had himself another drink. His initial plan to loosen her tongue seemed all but forgotten as the bounty hunter pulled quite the lush himself. The night had scarcely begun and he’d already drained the bottle down to its last quarter of whiskey. A lesser man might have spewed it across the table at such a rate, but Killian was known to drink a man under the table a dozen times, taking his wallet for nearly as much as the richest bounty. The iron stomach of an O’Malley is one of the few good things he’d inherited from his ‘Dear ole’ Da’.’ Of course, good was a relative term, considering the quenchless thirst that came along with it. Most of those drinking contests were known only through the recounting of a complete stranger, and damned be if he ever remembered what happened to any of the money.