The Jessie James Archives

by Craig Gallant

  “You need a piss already?” Harding, just ahead of the local, sneered over his shoulder from behind wide, blue-tinged goggles. “We ain’t on some church outin’, boy!”

  The younger man frowned, glancing quickly between Jesse and the other outlaw while still trying to keep an eye on the road ahead. They had not slowed down during the exchange, and he was obviously not entirely sure in his seat.

  “No!” His voice was firm. “I just gotta walk this off for a sec is all. Feel free to piss if you need to, though, Harding!” There was just enough attitude in that to get the rest of the men grinning, and Harding’s hands tightened on the control handles of the Iron Horse, revving the engine and tearing off up the road ahead. The reddish flame licking out from the drive nozzle lengthened as he worked the engine, red lights flaring along its flanks.

  Jesse smiled and nodded to the young man. “Sure, Ty, we can take a bit of a break. I could stand to get a drink myself, maybe take a few steps.”

  The rest of the men nodded in agreement, as they always did, and the party pulled off into a small clearing, the wide river rushing by not far away. Each vehicle gave a quick, angry snarl as the engine was cut, and then sank deeply into the soft ground beneath the trees. The men swung their legs up and away from the saddles with easy grace. Ty nearly mirrored them before the heel of his boot caught on the pummel and almost spilled him into the dirt, but he caught himself, grinning openly at the rest of the men.

  “Ty, you’re gonna have to get better with that thing if you wanna stick around with us.” Another outlaw, Gage, shook his head with a quick laugh. “I wouldn’t wanna be seen dead with you in public right now, the way you swing that machine all over the road like the worst kind o’ greenhorn.”

  “Not bad for your first time out, though.” Jesse hefted a canteen and took a healthy slug before throwing it to another man. “Although I gotta say, you keep ridin’ Harding that way, only gonna be room for one of you in this gang, before long.”

  Ty shrugged as he stood beside his borrowed mount, clearly unconcerned. “Harding’ll do what Harding’ll do, an’ I can’t worry myself about it either way. ‘Sides, I’m not here to ride with Harding.”

  Jesse laughed and almost missed the canteen being lobbed back to him. “Kid, you sure do have some balls, and no mistake. If you’re right about this bank, and you don’t embarrass us all when the penny drops, I think we might just have a ‘Horse you can call your very own when we get back to KC.”

  Ty nodded in calm agreement. “That’s the plan, Jesse. An’ you can trust me about this bank. My cousin lives in Missouri City, and she was just sayin’ last week that all the folks there were chipper as hell to be gettin’ their own savings and loan. The reserves were supposed to be delivered by yesterday, so we should be all set for a mighty withdrawal today, don’t you worry.”

  One of the older men coughed, and then looked sideways at Jesse. “Jesse, you mind if I ask again, how come Frank and them ain’t comin’ along?”

  Jesse’s eyes grew cold and he shook his head. “Frank’s tired, Chase. He din’t wanna go rushin’ out after he just got back from bein’ away.”

  “Um, okay.” Chase nodded. “But… the Youngers?”

  Jesse whirled on the other man, one hand floating by the butt of a hyper-velocity pistol. “You wanna ride with my brother and the Youngers, Chase? Or you wanna rid ewith me?”

  Chase put his hands up and took a step back. “With you, o’ course, Jesse! With you! Those other guys, they’re coffee boilers next to you! No joke!”

  Most of the other men were nodding fiercely, some glaring at Chase for even bringing the question up. Jesse shrugged, slapped the other man on the shoulder, and moved back towards his ‘Horse. “They’re tired, boys, an’ I ain’t. That’s what it comes down to.”

  Most of the men chuckled at that, and everything calmed down. Jesse shook his head and turned around to shove the canteen back into his saddle bag. The rest of the men were leaning against their mounts, smoking quirleys. The blue-tinged coils of smoke from the home-made cigarillos were pungent in the clear country air. Two of the men had wandered back towards the road, watching for Harding’s return.

  “Jesse, you been doin’ this for a while, huh?” Ty rested his hands on the worn leather of his saddle, straight arms supporting him as he leaned across to look at the outlaw leader. “Like, I remember hearin’ stories of you back before I was hip-high to a horny toad, an’ my daddy, he said there’d been stories goin’ for years back to when he was little. I was mighty surprised when I met you. You don’t look too much older’n me!”

  Jesse shrugged. “A man’s as old as he feels, kid. An’ I feel pretty damned good.” He grinned at the other men.

  “Man, Jesse, me an’ the other kids when we was growin’ up, weren’t a one of us didn’t dream of ridin’ with you someday, and look at me!” He gave the saddle a hard slap. “I’m the one who made it!”

  “Well, we’ll see, kid. Don’t get your hopes up. Ain’t no tellin’ how you’ll act once you’ve seen the elephant.” Jesse tipped his hat back a little bit with one metal finger. “Some folks just ain’t cut out for the sharp edge. No way of knowin’ till you’re there.”

  Ty shook his head. “Nope, this is for me. You ridin’ wherever you want, not havin’ to listen to nobody, takin’ what you want whenever you want it! And the girls! Man, you guys have all the luck with the womenfolk! A kid like me? I can’t even get a girl to so much as look at me by wavin’ a greenback in her face!”

  One of the other men barked a sharp laugh at that. “Kid, you don’t wanna go judgin’ how much action the rest of us get by watchin’ Jesse here. He sort of has a reputation for that sort of thing that belongs to him all alone.”

  “Ah, keep a hold o’ yer jealousy, Chase, kid don’t need to hear that.” But Jesse’s smile was wide as he continued. “Hell, we all got talents we’re born with, right? Besides, just because you lot o’ trolls can’t get a lady to look at you twice, ain’t no reason to make the kid here feel like he’ll live a life as empty of a lady’s affection as you all.”

  Chase snorted. “Well, you don’t seem to be makin’ the rounds as fast as you once did neither, old man.” The two men returning from the road laughed at that. “All the time you been spendin’ with that new sweetheart dancin’ girl, half the ladies of KC are pinin’ away every night.”

  “An’ so you’d think that’d make it easier for you boys to sweep ‘em off their feet while they’re distracted, yeah?” Jesse laughed. “But instead, ya’ll just end up cryin’ into yer joy juice come closin’ time every night.”

  The men laughed good-naturedly, one of them scuffing at the dirt with a heavy boot. But Ty looked far more intense, watching Jesse’s face with a steady eye. “She’s a beauty, though, that Misty Mimms. Half Kansas City’s been in love with her for years, and they fall all over again every night. But you’re the one she comes back to, eh, Jesse?”

  Jesse nodded with an open smile. “Reckon she does seem smitten, now that you mention it.”

  “She must have a soft spot for rough n’ ready boys, I guess.” Ty smiled, but the expression seemed vaguely predatory.

  Jesse’s face stilled slightly. “Whataya mean, Ty?” He stood up straighter, and the rest of the men quieted, looking from one to the other.

  Ty shook his head as if clearing it, his smile showing genuine again. “Oh, just that she was spendin’ a lot of time with Bill Bonney a year or so back. Now, it’s almost like she’s workin’ up a collection.”

  Jesse looked sour for a moment. “Misty used to walk with the Kid?”

  Ty’s face loosened in thought for a moment, then tightened with concern. “Um, yeah. I wouldn’t guess it was nothin’, Jesse. He ain’t been near KC in almost a year.”

  Jesse’s eyes grew unfocused for a moment, his mechanical hands tightening as he turned to look out through the trees and over the slowly rolling waters of the Missouri. The men exchanged looks with each other, none sure what they
should do.

  When Jesse turned back around he gave the young man a quick glance, then swung back up into his saddle. The Iron Horse gave out a throaty growl as he kicked it to life. It lifted up onto its cushion of thick air, wind tearing at the men still standing around him.

  “I’m sure it ain’t nothin’ either, Ty.” He pulled his red-tinged goggles down over his eyes. “Let’s head out. Missouri City ain’t that far away, and we want to get there before Harding decides to go in without us.”

  He gunned the ‘Horse and sent it spinning in a tight circle back towards the road. The men reached for their hats as they jumped into their own saddles, the roaring of motors rising as each iron beast was thrashed back into life.

  Ty was the last to jump onto his borrowed steed, watching as Jesse led the way back to the road. His face was blank as he mounted with casual grace, but his eyes, perhaps reflecting the flaring engine wash from the machines ahead of him, glowed crimson as they tightened slightly in amusement.

  *****

  Jesse pulled his Iron Horse up to where Harding sat, his machine idling roughly in the middle of the road. They were on the crest of a hill overlooking a bend in the Missouri River, and on the other side of the slowly moving water they could see the quiet collection of buildings that marked the center of Missouri City. Men and women, tiny in the distance, moved among the buildings, going about their daily business blissfully unaware of the gathering on the ridge above them.

  Jesse stared down for a moment and then cast around looking for Ty. The young man, swerving slightly as he approached, pulled his ‘Horse up beside the outlaw leader with a slight jerk and a quick exclamation of concern.

  “Easy, Ty, don’ wanna lose you this close to the bank!” Jesse reached out one hand, metal gleaming dully in the flashing sun, and grabbed the boy with a solid, steadying grip. Ty nodded his appreciation with an embarrassed grin.

  Once the younger man was steady in his saddle, Jesse rocked back onto his own machine and rested his armored forearms across the control panel. He gestured down the hill with a jerk of his chin. “Which one’s the bank, kid? They had to pretty much rebuild the whole town since the last time we was through, so it all looks new to me.” His grin was wide and warm.

  “Well, Jesse,” Ty pointed towards the center of the cluster of buildings. “That there, the white one? That’s the Missouri City Savings and Loan.”

  The men scanned the town, several using stolen Union monoculars bulky with RJ-1027 enhancements. Gage grunted once and passed his heavy piece of equipment to Jesse who immediately raised it to his eye and made some minor adjustments. He wished he had Frank with him once again. Frank’s long-scoped rifle, Sophie, had the best optics he had ever seen. If anyone could twig to a law dog ambush from afar it was Frank and that damned gun of his.

  Within the view of the monocular, the little burg of Missouri City sprang up at him out of a swirling confusion of colors. He panned the machine from one side of town to the other, trying to decipher from the shaky images what sort of opposition they might encounter if they made a direct run in. Beneath the dull blue of the monocular’s bulk, Jesse’s smile widened even more.

  Not even half the buildings below them were sporting RJ-1027 generators, which was unusual for a town this far east. Most of the generators he could see, of course, were the bulky units being produced back in Washington and distributed through the government offices. There were a few of Carpathian’s more streamlined pieces, but it was clear, even from the ridge across the river, that Missouri City was nothing but a bunch of mudsills; probably still holding a torch for old Emperor Lincoln, martyred to his unholy cause all those years ago. Jesse’s smile widened just a little bit at the thought.

  “I’m not seein’ any law, Jesse.” Chase muttered. “No sign of any ‘o them UR-30 statue-men, neither.”

  Ty nodded, looking from one outlaw to the other. “No, it’s like I told you, Jesse; ain’t no real law in Missouri City right now. They’s got a sheriff, but he don’t like that new-fangled marshal’s gang they put together over in Tombstone. He’s an ornery old guy, and might not even be around on a day like today! He spends a lot of time riding between here and KC.”

  Jesse continued to move the monocular around the town, smiling widely. He was hoping someone was going to put up a fuss. Last time they had ridden through this way, Missouri City had been nothing but filthy turncoat republicans, and the James gang had charged the entire town a heavy price for that lack of loyalty. Today, itching for some action and annoyed by his brother’s absence, Jesse was hoping for an excuse to burn the whole damned place to the ground.

  One of the men behind Jesse murmured to another while they waited for him to formulate a plan. “D’you hear about Billy down Yuma way? I heard they claimed bounty on over a fifty injun scalps!”

  “Nah, I heard it was more like ahun’erd,” Harding, arms crossed, muttered over his shoulder. “He ain’t no blowhard, Billy the Kid. I run with him a few times. He ain’t no flannel-mouthed city slicker.”

  “I don’t know, Harding.” The first man said. “A hundred braves? That seems like it’d be an awful lot, even for the Kid.”

  “He ain’t no blowhard,” Harding repeated.

  Jesse’s grin faded slightly, his teeth grinding together before he realized it. He quickly relaxed his jaw, gave his head a quick shake, and continued to scan the town below.

  Beside the outlaw leader, Ty watched, from the corner of his eye, and seemed to take satisfaction in the minute motion.

  “Boys,” Jesse lowered the instrument and gestured with it at the town. “Ain’t time to be shootin’ yer mouths off about the Kid with such a ripe peach waitin’ to be plucked down yonder. Everybody loosen those holsters an’ have the rifles at the ready. I don’t much think today’s a day for slow’n easy.” The smile was back and the men responded to it with vicious smirks of their own.

  “Now, you boys remember back when we used to have to worry about things like fords and bridges?” He looked around him with a laugh, but most of the men looked blankly back at him. Some shook their heads slightly. It seemed to take the wind out of Jesse’s sails a bit, and his shoulders slumped.

  “Would you wanna try to cross that river on horseback, without a bridge, you bunch of shavetail croakers?” He flicked the monocular downward again before tossing it to Gage in frustration.

  “Forget it, let’s just get down there and do some damage, eh?” He revved the mighty engine of his ‘Horse, sending crimson flames flaring from the drive nozzle. He stood tall in his saddle, leaned his weight forward, and the machine tilted its nose downward. The rest of the gang followed quickly as he tore down the hill in a plume of choking dust. Even over the roaring of the motors he could hear the rebel yells of the men behind him, and Jesse’s smile came back full force.

  Jesse was hunched behind the control console of his Iron Horse when he took the machine off the road and aimed it directly at the glittering river ahead. When he hit the bank, a geyser of green water flashed up all around, sparkling in the sun and sending rainbow prisms dancing behind him. Each of the other outlaws crashed through the falling curtain of mist, their own plumes exploding out around them. To the men and women on the waterfront across the way, it appeared as if an enormous cloud had suddenly erupted from the far bank, rushing towards them like a vicious storm front. Ruby flashes from within marked the flickering afterburn of the engines and the pulsing lights of the RJ-1027 modules along their flanks.

  The townsfolk stood staring numbly as the rushing wall of vapor rolled towards them, and Jesse, soaked to the skin by the roiling moisture, grinned evilly. He crouched down lower, peering ahead through the swirling crimson-stained chaos of his goggles. He could just make out the shapes of the people on the waterfront, and so he tilted his body slightly, bringing his center of balance over and throwing up a high white rooster tail of foam. The roar of his motor rose an octave as he gunned it towards a gap in the crowd.

  Jesse’s ‘Horse threw up a b
ow-wave of churning water, flashing fish, and shredded vegetation as it erupted out of the river and onto the dry bank. The surge of muddy water broke the spell that held the crowd in thrall, and they began to run inland shouting and screaming. Jesse laughed as he pulled one of his hyper-velocity pistols and fired over the heads of the fleeing crowd. The shattering blasts struck against the walls of waterfront buildings and set small, vicious fire..The crowd scrambled even faster, covering their heads with desperately up-flung arms.

  Jesse took one quick glance over his shoulder and then gunned the ‘Horse again, tearing between two buildings and forcing the stragglers in the fleeing mob to dive out of the way. One fat old man was too slow and the outlaw nudged him aside with the nose of the vehicle. Jesse hooted as the poor old muggins fell into the dirt, arms wind milling wildly.

  Behind Jesse, the rest of the gang roared down the alley. Two of the boys revved up the Gatling guns on their machines and sent sheets of crimson bolts sleeting out after the fleeing townsfolk. Buildings detonated in red fury, sending burning chunks of wood, masonry, and shingling sailing into the air. A pair of rockets sailed down the street on twinned lines of white exhaust, punching through the front wall of a small two story business and exploding within. Fire and debris crashed back out through every door and window, while the chimney coughed up a column of dark smoke and then collapse d into the building.

  Jesse gave an invigorated whoop of his own as he saw the building collapse in on itself, sending a plume of dust and smoke into the clear blue sky overhead.

  Within the confines of the town center, the roar of the Iron Horses was nearly deafening. The terrified men and women were gone, still fleeing out the other side of town and into the hills, but horror-stricken eyes stared from many darkened windows as the outlaws slashed through town, their thunderous machines throwing up gouts of dirt and dust as they slid to a stop in front a neat, trim building sporting a freshly-painted sign, “Missouri City Savings and Loan.”