Guns of Perdition

by Jessica Bakkers

  The group exchanged quick looks with one another.

  The Gunman smiled and swept his hands. “Oh, and of course the cur,” he indicated Kaga, “And the wild card.”

  “Enough jabbering,” Grace snapped. “We got your measure, high binder. We know your game.”

  The Darksome Gunman lowered his outspread hands. “Course you do. Told you last night what I expect of you all.”

  Grace shook her head. “Not that. We know your true game. We’ve seen through your bluff and know your call—Abaddon.”

  The Gunman stilled. He became like a pillar of black marble.

  Grace leaned on her saddle horn and flicked Crowbait’s reins from side to side. “What’s wrong? Ante too high for you?”

  “Where did you hear that name?” The Gunman’s voice rolled across the street like a peal of thunder. The five nags skittered and nickered. The hairs on Jessie’s arms stood on end as though a bolt of lightning had slammed down only inches from him.

  Grace shrugged. “It don’t matter. All that matters is we know your end game. Chaos. Torture. Destruction.”

  A long silence stretched out between the group and the lone figure.

  Finally, he spoke in the rippling tone of death. “And what of it? Do you deny the things that roam the night and stalk the day are due destruction? Can you rightly say these—abominations—should be allowed to continue to stride on God’s most exquisite creation? Undead shamblers.” He turned to Ruby. “Blood-sucking demons.” He looked at Tokota. “Shifting beasts.” He swung his head to Aaron Boothe. “The things that live in the deepest of darkness where light cannot penetrate.”

  He turned back to Grace. “Are you saying this...evil...does not deserve to be purged from the very face of the Earth?”

  “And what about men?” Jessie called out.

  The Darksome Gunman shifted his attention, and a stream of venomous hate slammed into Jessie. He swallowed his bile and continued, “Ain’t it true you released them,” he waved at the four riders by his side, “not just to destroy all them things but to kill men, women and children too?”

  The Darksome Gunman didn’t answer.

  Jessie held his breath beneath the Gunman’s silent barrage of power as the silence between them stretched on.

  Finally, the Gunman shrugged. “It’s true.”

  The nonchalance in his tone hit Jessie like a sucker punch. The total lack of consideration and compassion nearly made him fall off his horse. He slumped in the saddle and gripped the horn with both hands. A piercing headache stabbed him just behind his right eye.

  “That’s it? That’s all you got to say for yourself?” Grace asked. “You cain’t honestly think we’d just blindly go along with this...this game of yours!”

  The Gunman slowly shook his head. “Grace. So volatile. So wearisome. You forget, girl, I hold all the cards.”

  The Gunman snapped his fingers and a piercing scream ripped through the air. Kaga dropped to the ground fitting and jerking spasmodically. He yelped and whined as he thrashed about in the dirt.

  “Kaga!” Grace screamed and dropped from her saddle. She scrabbled across the dirt. Tokota slid from his saddle and quickly crossed the ground to stand by her side. The wolf’s eyes rolled back in his head as he jerked and frothed at the mouth. Grace ineffectually tried to calm him as he bucked and whined.

  Jessie swung back to the Gunman and shouted, “Stop it! Stop hurting him!”

  The Darksome Gunman’s lips spread in a wide smile. “Oh, I’m not just hurting him.” He swung his attention to Aaron Boothe. “Back in Barren Banks, young William and Richard are squealing on the floor, writhing in agony.”

  Boothe’s mouth dropped open as his gaze snapped to the flailing wolf then back to the Gunman.

  The man in black snorted and nodded. “And Tokota, you might be interested to know your medicine man is fitting and dying on the floor of his tipis.”

  Tokota swung the Sharps rifle at the Gunman, but Grace knocked it down and shook her head. Ruby’s horrified gaze slid to the Gunman, who laughed.

  “And Ruby... Well, as you ain’t got anyone left alive who you care about, know that if I want, I could have a dozen armed longriders squalling through town, ready to pin you down flat on your back and ride you till they’re dry.”

  Ruby blanched and tugged on Lumière’s reins as she flinched. The mare cantered and nickered in response.

  The Gunman eyed each of them before raising his hand and snapping his fingers again. Instantly Kaga stopped yelping and drew himself up into a tight protective ball. He whimpered as Grace stroked his head and buried her face in his fur.

  Jessie fought the urge to retch and forcibly relaxed his fingers around the handle of his Colt. The hardened wood had bitten into his skin, and his palm throbbed where his old wound had reopened and oozed fresh blood.

  Grace huddled over the wolf for a long time before turning her angry dark eyes on the Darksome Gunman. She pushed herself to her feet and shook off Tokota as he took her arm. She drew Justice and strode toward the Gunman. “Alright you evil shit-sucking sonuvabitch. Time to finish this.”

  The Gunman raised his hand and said, “One more step, Grace, and I snap the wolf’s neck.”

  Grace halted mid-stride.

  The Gunman moved rapidly and closed the distance between them. He grabbed her by the throat and tilted her head up to him. “My patience is dry, girl. I got no time for your foolishness or morality. The reality is this: you’ve been brought together for a reason. For a specific task. And now it’s time to do that task. And by God, you’ll do it.” He tensed his muscles and threw Grace across the street. She collided heavily with Tokota, who staggered but managed to keep them both upright.

  “You’ll all do it! Because you ain’t got a choice in the matter!”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” Jessie’s voice rang out clear and calm.

  The Darksome Gunman turned on his heel as Jessie held up his old battered journal. He held the book open on a page of flowing writing and he looked down at the Angel of the Abyss, who stood shrouded in his cloak of shadows and power. An aura of complete authority radiated from the angel, as hot and biting as the midday sun. But Jessie didn’t balk at his divine radiance. Instead, he tightened his grip on the book and slowly raised his right hand. Blood dribbled down the length of his palm from a nasty gash.

  “There’s always a choice. Always free will. Always sacrifice,” Jessie said softly. He pressed his fingers against his palm then turned the book around and read the line of text aloud. “Men, women, children, beasts, demons, the first children. The Four Horsemen. The Angel of the Abyss. Abaddon. The Destroyer.”

  Jessie peered over the book, straight at the Darksome Gunman. “So I have named you. And so named, can you be blotted out.”

  Jessie touched his bloody fingertip to the paper and blotted out The Angel of the Abyss. Abaddon. The Destroyer. He looked up at the Gunman.

  The Darksome Gunman stood as he had before, cloaked in shadows and supreme in his divinity. A smirk spread across his lips. “Is that it? You done now, boy?” He began to laugh. It was a harsh, discordant sound like the caw of a hungry raven. He tilted back his head and shared his amusement with the heavens.

  A gunshot instantly silenced his laughter.

  The Gunman staggered backward, one hand slapped hard against his shoulder. Flecks of bright red blood dampened the dirt beneath his boots, and his spurs jingled as he staggered. The Gunman raised a gloved hand to his face and studied the wet material. Sticky blood covered his fingers. The Gunman raised his head. He stared at Grace, who stood in a relaxed gunfighter’s pose with Justice still smoking, in her hand.

  The Gunman hissed and looked at Jessie. “How? How is this possible?”

  Jessie held up the book. “I am the lamb. Blood is my sacrifice, there’s power in the blood...and the rules have changed.”

  The Darksome Gunman’s lips pulled back in a grimace, and he looked for a moment like a great, supernatural vultu
re. He moved quick. Quicker than humanly possible. The silver equalizer strapped to his pelvis seemed to leap into his gloved hand, and his arm came up straight and rock steady. The cold barrel pointed at Jessie.

  Gunfire boomed, and the Darksome Gunman’s equalizer went spinning through the air, flashing and glinting, and landed with a thud some feet from the Gunman.

  The Gunman wrung his hand, his face screwed up in rage and pain as he staggered backward. Three of his fingers, dislodged by his movements, plopped to the ground.

  Jessie turned and saw Tokota’s Sharps rifle sitting comfortably against the native’s shoulder. The rifle he'd robbed from his people’s oppressors now robbed the Darksome Gunman of his digits and his arrogance. Tokota, on the back of Uzeblikblik, kept the rifle pinned on the Gunman.

  “I call down war upon you, sica.” Tokota’s voice was firm and grim with righteous anger.

  The Gunman seethed and took a step backward. “You want to play? Alright. Let’s play.”

  Overhead the sunshine dulled as though a cloud had scudded past, though the sky was pure blue and unblemished.

  The Darksome Gunman stood straighter as his human form slipped away. The dazzling radiance of the midday sun emanated from the man himself as his size and shape grew before their eyes. The shimmering outline of white-gold wings unfurled behind him, creating a heat haze around the once-man. Beams of pure white light shot out of his eyes, and he wore a burning halo of white fire atop his head.

  “See me and know fear!” The angel spoke with the voice of the Abyss.

  Ruby squeezed Lumière with her thighs and the mare cantered forward with a toss of her head. Ruby caressed her silver Derringer, lazily aimed, and pulled the trigger.

  The Darksome Gunman screeched and slapped a glowing, golden hand to his face as one of the beams of light from his eyes winked out. As he roared in rage, his burning halo gutted and fizzed out. His great golden wings drooped and turned dull as faded ivory. The single beam of pure white light in his remaining eye faded, and his face fell into shadow once more. His head snapped left and right as he looked at his fading wings dragging across the dusty ground. “What?”

  Ruby smiled and patted Lumière’s neck. In a sensuous tone, she called out, “I conquer your righteous power.”

  The Angel of the Abyss took a step backward, and something in his movement spoke of panic and fear. He raised his head to the heavens and screamed, “Father! Brothers! Come to my aid!”

  Silence fell as the angel’s voice echoed through Worm Wood.

  Suddenly the ground lurched as though the very foundation of the earth was stirring from sleep. The Horsemen glanced down and the horses shifted nervously.

  The angel grinned beneath his hat and waved his hands at the ground. “I am not without my own posse.” He lifted his head to the heavens and raised his arms to the sky. “Father!”

  Boothe snorted and kicked Onyx. The nag neighed and surged forward. Boothe clicked and fired the gleaming Colt Dragoon and grinned as the angel staggered backward. Boothe clicked and fired again. And again. He used all five shots and chuckled as the angel raised his hands to his ragged throat. The angel glared at Boothe and staggered. He opened his mouth to beseech the heavens for aid, and nothing came out. His gloved hands flew to his ruined throat where all five of Boothe’s bullets had ripped through flesh, sinew, and divine grace, leaving him bereft and cut off from Heaven.

  “I starve you of your divinity, big boy,” Boothe snorted.

  The angel threw his head back in a silent scream to the heavens and raised his rapidly disintegrating wings as he sought to escape. Striding footfalls drew his attention, and he lowered his gaze to Grace’s dark eyes.

  “And I reap your hide, you sorry sonuvabitch.” Her voice was rough and carried across the silent divine battlefield.

  She didn’t deliver the Darksome Gunman, The Angel of the Abyss—Abaddon—Justice nor did she give him Mercy. Instead, she lunged forward with her cavalry saber and plunged the weapon deep into his chest. The metal tore through cotton and silk, ripped through tendon and bone, and shredded internal organs as it burst out his back. Grace clutched the hilt and gave it a twist as she stared into the angel’s eyes.

  Jessie glanced from Grace to Abaddon, and in that moment, he saw the angel’s face—his true face. The pale angelic beauty of the creature slammed into Jessie and sent him reeling. As Grace held him skewered on the end of her blade, Jessie’s throat choked on a silent scream. The knowledge that she was extinguishing something so pure, so finite, from existence sent tears coursing down his cheeks.

  Grace leaned in to the dying angel and said, “This is for my ma and pa. Burn in Hell, you sonuvabitch.”

  The angel slowly slid backward and collapsed on the dirt, yanking the blade from Grace’s hand as he fell to the ground. Rich arterial blood seeped beneath his black clothing and spread across the dusty ground. Within seconds, the blood had stained the ground either side of him like macabre versions of his previously glorious wings.

  A warm breeze stirred a strand of Grace’s hair, and she flinched as Jessie approached. He looked down at the slain angel and scrubbed a hand across his face.

  “It’s over.” Grace’s tone was flat. Her eyes were like mirrors reflecting back Jessie’s wan features and revealing nothing of the woman beneath their vacant surface. He laid a hand on her shoulder and noticed how tense her muscles were beneath his fingers. In the reflection of her gaze, he saw himself leaning in toward her. He opened his mouth though he had no words to offer. She suddenly seized him in a crushing embrace. Jessie went ice cold, then started burning as Grace’s lips pressed flush against his. She kissed him for what seemed like an eternity, and when she finally drew back, Jessie’s head swam. His nostrils burned with the scent of myrrh.

  “It’s over, Jessie! He’s dead!” Grace said.

  Jessie’s breath hitched in his throat as he gazed at her. She’d never looked lovelier than at that moment, dusty, spattered with angel blood, and free. The cauldron of swirling emotions in Jessie’s gut kept him silent as Grace squeezed him again. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to truly feel her in his arms. He inhaled her unique scent and sighed. If the world stopped turning and they died right there, right then, Jessie would’ve met his maker a happy man.

  All too soon, Grace pulled away, and a rare smile touched her face. She spun on her heel, raced to Kaga, and dropped beside the wolf. Tears flashed on her cheeks as she cradled him in her arms. His long pink tongue licked her tears as she laughed and pressed her face against him. It was an oddly intimate scene, and the others had the grace to turn away. Jessie couldn’t have removed his gaze from Grace and Kaga with a crowbar. Hot, bitter anger twisted his stomach as he watched them share their joy and their love. His heart ached, and a small moan fell from his lips. Though Grace had given him a kiss, she’d given Kaga everything.

  After a while, Grace pushed Kaga away and clambered to her feet. She gazed around with a dazed expression and said, “We better get moving. I don’t fancy hunkering here any longer than necessary.”

  Jessie nodded stiffly but kept his face averted. He didn’t want her to see the tears on his cheeks.

  “Right after we put that sonuvabitch in the ground where he—” Grace broke off as she turned.

  The angel’s body, and the spreading pool of blood beneath, had vanished.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Jessie woke from a disturbed sleep and sat up. It was bright beneath the full moon, and as he gazed around their crude camp he could easily tell who slept where from the distinctive shapes of their bedrolls. The large shape to his right was Kaga, protectively holding Grace. Her weapons were propped beside her in easy reach—the sister guns, Justice and Mercy, her rolled-up whip, the Winchester. The only one missing was her cavalry saber, which had disappeared along with the Darksome Gunman’s body.

  Ruby was curled up in a fetal position not far from them. Aaron Boothe sprawled on his back close to the embers of their campfire. Tokota ha
dn’t lain down with the others; he was either standing watch at the edge of the camp or had laid his bedroll beyond the light of the fire.

  There had been little discussion after the Darksome Gunman was killed. Little discussion beyond “get the hell out of town”. None of them felt comfortable in the strangely abandoned Worm Wood. There’d be time enough to figure out what next when the town was well behind them. So they’d ridden hard and collapsed in the first hospitable patch of terrain they found—a serene spot with picturesque views and a cheerful babbling river.

  Jessie gazed at the tranquil scene uneasily. After the horrors of Worm Wood, this lovely domestic scene seemed jarring and out of place. False, somehow. His gaze slid to Grace and Kaga, and he hugged his knees and watched them for a long time.

  Promise me something, son... Once it’s done, once it’s ended, you get shy of them traveling companions. Ain’t no room on a cart for no fifth wheel.

  Cottonmouth’s words rang in Jessie’s ears. He swallowed as he tracked the crook of Kaga’s arm where his bronzed skin merged with hers.

  Don’t get defensive. I see your moon-eyed fixation with her. Ain’t manly, son. Have a bit of goddamn self-respect.

  Jessie swallowed and rose to his feet. His skin prickled as a cool breeze wafted across the mesa. He took a halting step toward Grace and Kaga. In the moonlight, he could see her lips were parted and she breathed heavily through her mouth. He whimpered as he remembered the feel of her lips pressed against his. What he wouldn’t give to taste them again.

  Her long hair snarled around her face, tangled and wild from tossing and turning. Hair he knew smelled like lye and myrrh. Hair he’d sell his soul for, just to have the chance to slide his fingers through.

  He stood over the sleeping lovers and stared unashamedly. She was lovely in the sweet arms of sleep—peaceful, calm. So very un-Grace-like. He could almost imagine, in this vulnerable state, he could creep up on her and sweep her out from Kaga’s arms. Steal her away before either of them knew what was going on.