Sixes Wild: Manifest Destiny

by Tempe O'Kun

  Blake pulls me in with his wing just a bit. “About me keeping you safe?”

  “About me keepin’ me safe!” I tap a paw against his chest. “I figure, sooner or later, Hayes is going to get word from his beefers we put in the clink. He’s gonna hear that some tall, scrawny bunny fella made off with his loot. Granted, there’s a mess a’ bunnies out here, but most of ‘em don’t know a pistol from a pine cone.”

  “Fair to say you do.”

  “Dang right it’s fair. Now hush. I decided the best way to make sure Hayes ain’t wise to me is to get wise to him. More especially, his crooked dealings. That way, if he sees fit to send trouble my way, I can send it right back.”

  “Blackmail?”

  “Blackmailing Hayes would buy me a bullet in the back. That lion’s yella clear through. I’m talkin’ giving him difficulties bigger than some bunny with his cash. The manner of difficulties that turn deadly if you don’t see to them directly.”

  “Ah.”

  “Got a tingle in my ears and started pokin’ around at the mine he bought up north of town.”

  “I heard about that place.” Blake nods. “Ran dry a dozen years ago. Most folks are glad about him opening it, think it’ll bring money into the town.”

  “Well, if he’s pulled a fleck of gold outta the ground, I couldn’t find it.”

  He stops stroking my ears for a moment. “I’m sure you looked.”

  “A bunny’s gotta live. Besides, if Hayes had his druthers, you’d be feedin’ the wildlife back where they dry-gulched us.” I adjust my ears so I’m not laying on ‘em, and just so happens that this means he can pet them better. “He’s been in there alright. Thing is, he brings in cattle with him.”

  “Cattle?”

  “As in calves.”

  “What’s he need cows in a mine for?”

  “Just what I thought. And not just one or two. He’s brought at least a dozen of ‘em down since I’ve been watchin’. Whatever he does, they don’t come back out. Just bones picked clean... Don’t you think that’s a touch odd?”

  The lawbat shrugs his wings. “Lions are meat-eaters. They’re given to odd behavior sometimes.”

  “Hasn’t taken in any equipment for cooking or mining either. Just a string of little calves.” “And now I start hearing rumors ‘bout folk gone missing.”

  “Rumors?” His eyes question me.

  “You seen that old raccoon with the sickle lately?”

  “Harland Myers? No, come to think of it.”

  “Neither has anybody else. Not for near on a week.”

  He nods, scratching his chin with a wing thumb. “He’s always seemed a trifle odd, though; caught him staring into nothing the other day. But that doesn’t implicate Hayes at all.”

  I glare on him a moment before continuing. “Or that mutt who got in a tussle with Hayes’ goons last night. He’s gone too.”

  “That one’s news to me and I’ll have to look into it.” He set his muzzle in a thoughtful frown. “But folk leave town, Six.”

  “Folk who don’t own a pony? And there hasn’t been a stage through in weeks.”

  He swivels an ear my way. “And you think Hayes chased them off?”

  “Ah don’t claim to know. All I know is they’re gone.” I shift again him, wishing he’d wrap my up in his wings a little longer. “And then there’s those carts a’ ore Hayes’ been haulin’ straight through town…”

  “Ore?”

  “As in rocks. No gold.”

  “Why bother bringing back rocks?”

  “Just what I thought. And not just one or two. He’s brought half a dozen out of there since I’ve been watching. Whatever it’s for, he hides it at that blasting powder factory of his. Don’t you think that’s a touch odd?”

  The lawbat shrugs his wings. “I’ll admit it is peculiar.”

  “Carts and carts of these shiny rocks just happen to keep heading to his dynamite plant. That ring true to you?”

  “No, but there’s no reason to believe he’s doing anything illegal.” He looks up at me, those darling brown eyes dang near driving me to distraction.

  “Look, I don’t know what I’m gettin’ at exactly, but I got a…” I close my eyes. “…feeling about this. ‘Specially so when I got close to those carts.”

  He brushes his muzzle on mine ‘til I look down at him. He sits up a bit, ears up. His face is honest. “How do I play in?”

  “I don’t know… I guess ya come have a look-see.”

  The bat looks a touch confused. “Look, Six, I trust you, but I can’t just leave town for a few days and go trespassing on private property on account of just a feeling. If we were to head up to County Records, take this the official road…”

  I look away, feeling stupid I even asked. I scoot back a little from under his wing.

  He notices my backing off, but makes no move to keep me there, except with his eyes. “Hey, now…”

  I wring my paws. I can shoot the cap off a longneck at twenty yards, but this is tough. “Blake, I know I sound like I’m on a bender, but I ain’t really up to my ears in frien— lawbats.”

  “Tell you what, we’ll get some breakfast here and check into what you’ve heard.” He nods toward the door, then noses in against my ear with a little grin. “Disinclined as I am to have us leave where we’re at…”

  I blush at that last, but take a breath, steeling up my resolve. “And what if Hayes fixes on blastin’ us all sky high? You willin’ to wait, Sheriff?”

  “It’ll only take a day. At most.” His thin, serious muzzle lays against my neck. “I can’t just go traipsing over and arrest a man without cause. We’ve got no evidence yet he’s playing the game crooked. Let me talk to people—”

  “Ya wanna talk? You can talk to me, either at the mine or when I get back. I’m finding out what’s this is about ‘fore Hayes decides I’m worth investin’ some bullets in.” I roll back, dropping my hind paws off the side of the bed. My bare legs and the white fur of my more personal areas gives me a touch of embarrassment, but not enough to put the brakes on this train. I’ve got myself riled, and my pride won’t let me turn back. I pull on my britches and am halfway through the left boot when he touches my back. I tense for a moment. Having a man touch me as he pleases is going to take this bunny some getting used to. At least I haven’t shot him yet. Well, except the once. My guns feel cold despite having been under the covers with us all the warm night.

  His voice is soft, so is his wing against my back. “Six, you don’t have to do this alone. I’ll help you.”

  This damn right boot always fights me when I’m in a hurry. Hot blood runs to my ears. My words have more bite than I mean them to: “Really? For somebody with wings, ya sure are sold on sittin’ still.”

  “I give you my word of honor.”

  I keep myself from turning around. I don’t care to have him see my face just now. One kind of naked is enough for today. “That don’t mean a lot out here.”

  “Does to me.”

  I get that right boot on with brute muscle. It hurts my hind paw, but I’m ready to walk. “I’d best be gettin’ a wiggle on.”

  Blake’s still getting his long johns in order while I stand up and walk to the door. I catch him giving me a look that darn near draws me back in. I check the chambers on my guns and head out.

  * * * * *

  It’s noon. The sun is hot on my fur. I’ve been walking up this mountain for hours. I could get up faster, but that would mean taking the road, and I am not keen on being spotted. Don’t believe Hayes would be too hesitant to do me in, seeing as how I am far out of town. A quick draw isn’t worth a red cent if somebody else has the first shot. Luckily, there’s plenty of rock and brush to use as cover. My guns murmur, heavier than usual.

  Damn Blake and his rules! That little fruit-munching flutter rat… By my Daddy’s ghost, I ought to just drag him hog-tied after me the next time. Ought to not even be a next time. Damned bat’s eager as a Lab on lunch break to shove his muzzle in
my personal affairs, but then can’t even be bothered to have my back the morning after!

  What’s worse, I’m not just mad at him, like I got every right to be. I’m near on sullen, getting all lovesick over this rule-toting dullard. I haven’t been this torn up since I was a teenager and Mama moved me back to the Old States. Mama ran the farm fine for years, but Daddy’s coffin wasn’t hardly covered in dirt ‘fore she had us on a train east, like the Frontier hadn’t been the only home I’d ever known. Oh, she fit in fine with the finer sorts, having tea parties and gossiping everything into a scandal. Not me. I’m more suited to kicking up a ruckus at some shindig than prattling away at some gala. If being a busybody what it takes to be a proper lady, I’ll be wearing these britches to the grave, thank you kindly.

  I’m wanting for a Quirley something terrible, but a dog could smell tobacco smoke from a mile off. I content myself with some of the dried berries I lifted off the Scoria Grove general store for shortchanging me on the guns from Hayes’s men. They’re bitter. Ain’t that just the way of the world?

  I make it up the rest of the way without trouble. My little crow’s nest is still here. I settle back into the little space in the rock, shaped like it was scooped out just for clever bunnies. Shaded too, which is good since I only have the water I carry up. Overlooks the mouth of the mine. Last time, I hid up here for two days without them seeing me, watching Hayes come and go with his strings of carts. Saw a few others with him, his men no doubt, but none I’d seen before.

  As of this moment, there are at least three people down there, ambling near the mine entrance. Too far away to tell species as they’re unloading a small wagon of supplies all leisureful. Boss must not be around.

  I figure I’ll wait ‘til nightfall, then weasel my way in. Neither of the air shafts I found are big enough to crawl through— I’ll have to go in the main way. I’ll slink around until I find just what Hayes has brewing down there, then ask him to stop real nice. I check my guns. Right in the middle of clearing the dust out of ‘em, they take to whispering again. Low and mumbly, the voices set a queer shiver along my hackles. Something’s amiss.

  Something moves at the corner of my eye. I duck, still as a stone. Moving slow, I tilt my head, looking up around the brim of my hat. I make out a winged shape in the sky. Blake. Darn fool.

  I wave as much as I dare. Seems he doesn’t see me. I even risk flashing my iron at him. Nothing. I consider hollering, but that’s just as likely to bring Hayes’ meat-heads up after me as it is to attract Blake. He lands near the mine entrance. I cuss. My left paw snaps the loading gate back in place on one gun as I caress the one at my hip. I start climbing down, quiet-like. If I can get to Blake before the—

  Nope.

  Four armed men swarm over the rocks, guns aimed at the lawbat.

  I draw. At this distance, I could pick off one or two, certainly distract them good, but the minute Blake takes to the air they’ll shoot him. At least, if they have any brains.

  The good sheriff raises his paws and starts talking. No doubt he is giving them the ‘I am a man of the law’ bunkum that served us so well last time. One of them walks up and socks him in the muzzle. He goes down. Lawbat’s got a glass chin.

  Ice travels up my veins, collecting in my gut. I watch them drag Blake off, into the mine. The darkness swallows him up.

  I fight with myself a moment— the hell am I thinking, running after this lawbat? This highfaluting sense of honor’s gonna get me plugged. Don’t folks say desertion is the better part of valor?

  In the end, I admit I’m a damn fool. I hop down, skittering along the gravel fast as I dare.

  So much for waiting until nightfall.

  He bows like I’m some sort of king. I like that.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  “You did what?!”

  “We caught him snoopin’ around, so we kicked him around good—”

  My claws snap out and I knock the rat over with one paw. He squeals in pain, clutching his bleeding snout. Stupid rodent’s lucky I just got back from hunting, that the instincts have been sated for the day. Otherwise, I’d make a rather messy example of him. I take a breath and my voice cools. Father never lost his temper, and I know it’s my flaw. “Where is he now?”

  “In the caves… Eeeek!”

  I step on his tail as I walk in. Fool. He could have just told the sheriff that this was private land and to move along. But instead he tried to curry my favor by not only beating up the local sheriff, but by leading him into the deepest, secret part of the mine. By my tail! What do I pay these men for? If I wanted blind brute force, I’d just use the ore-doped miners. “You should’ve stopped them.”

  I hear a skittering as Morris hurries after me on his stubby marmot legs. I should have left him in charge, but he likes to come along and talk business. Says I’m much more clear-minded after a hunt. He’s right. He smooths his shirt over his wide belly, grumbling. “Not like they asked for mah permission… What do you plan to do about the sheriff, bossman?”

  “Don’t know. Kill him, I guess. Perhaps let the miners at him.”

  He chitters and wrings his paws, a little too nervous. “Folk will notice he’s gone.”

  “I know that! But he’s seen the caves. I can’t just let him go.”

  “Oh? Seems like that’s just what we ought to do.”

  A growl rises like bile in my throat. “Why?”

  “What has he really seen? A mine, that’s all. Nothing wrong with a mine. Even Whiskers ain’t dumb enough to have stashed him in the temple. I say we get him to see this for the mistake it was. Set him on his way.”

  “So…what? We just bring him back to town and buy him some drinks?”

  “This sheriff don’t drink, but, yes, that’s the general idea. Set him right and on his way. We’ll just blame Whiskers and offer him up as a scapegoat.”

  I consider this, stroking my mane. “You think like a predator, Morris.”

  “Thank you, bossman.” He grooms his ears, fat little body bobbing down the stairs after me.

  The lower levels of the mine lead to a maze of caves. Uncle Julius found them and spent the rest of his life studying the artifacts and writings here. The natives made them at some point in the forgotten past. If Uncle was right, they tell the secrets of the ore. If I ever manage to make sense of his notes, I’ll know for sure.

  In the low light of the lanterns, the veins on the walls look like gold. If it does even half of what Julius speculated, it’s more valuable ten times over. He even thought it would preserve him forever, though a few bullets from some meddling rabbit federale saw to that. One thing we already know it does is turn most folk into dribbling, suggestible fools— with enough exposure. That’s worth more than gold to a man who knows how to use it. I’m lucky to’ve found a number of my men it doesn’t affect; not that they had much brains to begin with.

  Uncle Julius had a few of the smaller spaces down here converted into rooms for storage. I found that, with a few padlocks, they make agreeable guest quarters as well. We stop in where they’ve locked up the sheriff, finding him battered and still on the floor.

  Morris has a word with that old rabbit from the mine, one of the saner ones.

  I extend a single claw and press it into the chest of one of the guards, a panther. “Is he dead?”

  “No, Boss. Just out cold.” His name is Harvey Cole and has impressed me in the few months he’s been in my employ. His name isn’t real; you can tell by his accent he’s a Chinacat or some such. Doesn’t matter. The panther stands up straight, proud like a cat should be. What’s more, the ore doesn’t do him a blink of ill. A valuable combination. “Your…associates wanted to beat him further, but I stopped them, figuring you would want to see to this personally, as he is lawman. Also…”

  “Yes?”

  His left paw fingers a jade worry stone, smoothing it between rough paw pads. He leans in, away from the rabbit chattering with my marmot and purrs a whisper: “We do not know if he is affected by ore. Unt
il we do, best to keep him where he sees nothing incriminating.”`

  “Hmph.” I nod and slap the panther on his muscular back. “Morris! Give this cat a bonus.”

  “Yes, bossman.” The marmot fumbles out his wallet and thumbs a dozen bills out for him.

  The panther takes them with both paws, nodding all gracious. I continue to be impressed. I’d hire only big cats if the situation allowed, not these rats and other vermin, but we’re too uncommon.

  I smile at Harvey. “Clean him up, dress his injuries as best you can. Communicate our regrets and let him know I’m on my way here.”

  “Yes, Boss.” He bows like I’m some sort of king. I like that. Suits a man of my species.…

  Morris ties the wallet back to his belt as we turn a corner, hitching his pants against his wide gut. “We were lucky today, bossman. Bats are fragile creatures. You remember what happened with the pipistrelle…”

  I growl. “Yes, I remember.”

  He looks back. “You aren’t releasing him now?”

  “Have them move him to the back offices ‘til he recovers. We’ll take him back to town after the service. He comes out a’ this fine as a new penny. We all come out a’ this just fine.”

  We’ve got some gone to get.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  The entrance of the mine is a heavy wood frame. Holding steady for a moment, I duck next to the one of the beams.

  What in tarnation am I doing? Charging into Hayes’ mine runs contrary to my attachment to continued living. Granted, I’m keen to keep him around for a tussle and a tumble, but that’s no reason to risk my fluffy tail.

  I control my breathing. I hope no one can hear my hammering heart. I’m going to have to move fast. My gun’s in my paw. I turn the corner.

  Nobody there.

  Don’t these men have a whit of sense? Who the hell doesn’t leave a guard at the only entrance? Unless this ain’t the only one...

  I walk into the dark. My fur cools in an instant, fluffing out. Air’s moist in here. Chilled too. I make my way down the uneven wood steps, walking slow and atop the supports so as not to let it creak. A derelict track runs beside me. Once on the floor of the mine, I pick up speed ‘til I’m dang near bounding outta my boots. That feeling I had walking by those ore wagons, but it’s brought its five twin sisters. My ears go up. I can hear talk from somewhere down ahead.