Sixes Wild: Manifest Destiny

by Tempe O'Kun

  “Don’t you go assuming you have me nailed down just yet.” He spins it around into his paw, then holds it level, about belly high. Well, chest high on most folk besides me. He looks like he might even be able to fire it.

  After a moment of hesitating, I put a paw on his shoulder. He looks up at me. “Who all is that bloodhound gonna rustle up? Ah’d hate to be the only one at this party.”

  He lowers the scattergun. “You’re coming?”

  I lift an ear, smiling down at him. “Ain’t I?”

  “You’re game as a banty rooster.” His voice gets low. “I’ve never met a woman like you.”

  My tail bobs. “The most of folk’d say you still haven’t.” I chuckle.

  He interrupts me with a kiss. My mind reels so hard it’s a wonder my ears don’t stand straight out. My guns tug me forward, into his waiting wings. His fancy lil’ tongue starts doing flips around my mouth.

  The earth shakes. I don’t mean that in some mushy dime novel nonsense way, though that was my first thought, I’m ashamed to admit. The ground shakes under us. We stop kissing. Both of us have our ears up.

  He’s all business. “You feel that?”

  So am I. “Yeah.”

  “Earthquake?”

  “Never heard a’ one happenin’ in these parts.”

  “Me neither.”

  We make our way to the porch. All down the block, people are standing in the street, yammering and looking up.

  The sheriff’s mare is whinnying and tossing her head, fully saddled. Blake clears his throat and calls to one of the gawkers. “You! What is goin’ on out here?”

  “Hell if anybody knows, Sheriff!” The deep-voiced mastiff looks around, a touch panicked. “There’s talk Hayes’s mine just blew sky high!”

  * * * * *

  People clamor for a town meeting. Following Blake there, I walk in as Harding arrives with the halfways-collected posse, though now I doubt we’ll be heading up to the mine. Most I don’t recognize, though at the tail end I see a pair of red foxes. The doc and his wife, walking close together. The foxes give me little smiles, concerned, but recognizing me. I slip in behind them. The lawbat brushes past me all soft and snakes through the crowd to the front of the hall.

  Hayes’ eyes go wide when he sees him, but he sweeps a paw over his ears and puts on a face. The lion has cleaned up fine, mane gleaming like a fire. The metal of my guns runs cold, even through the fur of my fingertips. I could put a bullet between his eyes from here. Could. Won’t. But ought to.

  I hang around at the back, making a real task of sorting through the bullets in my gunbelt. I keep my head down ‘til I can scarcely see over the foxes ears. Back to the wall, just a few steps from the door; it’s a good spot. My hind paw thumps as I fight to steel my nerves.

  The town council sits along a table at the front of the room. Blake stands at one end, badge glinting in the lantern light. The room buzzes with talk. Not much light; everybody seems to blend together, all species and sorts forming a sitting mob. Seems like half the town’s in attendance. Makes sense I guess; good chunk of the mountain just blew up. The sour scent of fear hangs thick in here.

  The mayor, an older calico Blake finds a trifle mild for the post, raps his little wooden hammer on the table a few times. “Quiet down, quiet down. I’m calling this meeting to order. The secretary is now taking notes. Clearly, the pressing issue is the explosion that occurred tonight up on Old Camp Mountain, so we’ll get down to business. I’ve been told that the mine’s owner, Tanner Hayes, would like to speak. Mister Hayes?”

  The lion stands up, brushing down his fine white shirt. “Roughly an hour ago, my newly acquired mine was dynamited… intentionally and maliciously.” He waits while everyone takes this in, eyes closed and seeming all sad. “While this is a blow to the community, we can at least be grateful that no one was in the mine at the time. And while there will be a serious delay and loss of revenue to me personally, mine operations will continue. To this end, I’ll be hiring extra workers from town here to help with the cleanup.”

  More than a few hoots of approval rise up from the crowd. Everybody knows Hayes pays well.

  I look to Blake. His muzzle is steady, but those blown eyes flick to me. I see a flicker of concern.

  The mayor pushes up his glasses. “Mister Hayes, do you have any idea who might have sabotaged your mine?”

  “Well, nothing is set in stone just yet. My men did see a suspicious character nosing around the site just before it was destroyed.” He waves a thick paw through the air like some kind of actor. “A rabbit by the name of Jasper Haus.”

  My guts turn to ice. All these years not hearing my father’s name, now twice in the same day. From two different people. This just ain’t possible. Only thing I can figure is that they talked. But Daddy died a hundred miles from that mine, probably never even set a paw in it. Then it hits me like a hoof to the head.

  They think I’m my father.

  My guns hum under my palms.

  I edge to the door. My breath sounds like thunder; my fur tingles like close lightning. I feel eyes on me, but don’t dare check.

  “I am personally offering a reward of one hundred-fifty dollars for his capture.” A rush of chatter from the townsfolk. Hayes waits for a little while, soaking up the reaction, before he raises those heavy paws again. The place quiets down. “This reward is forfeit if the rabbit is killed. I’m out for answers, not blood.”

  The mayor talks over the newest rumble of chatter. “Your mercy is commendable, Mister Hayes. The sheriff’ll be, of course, ready to assist you in the location and capture of this culprit. Now as for how soon the mine can be back in operation…”

  I slip out. I taste bitterness, right on the edge of puking, but swallow it back down. Night’s chill seeps into my fur like icy water. It’s like I’m climbing out of Skull Creek all over again: cold, alone, and wound so tight my innards feel twisted. I’ve got to hit the hills again. Put some miles between me and this town. I’ve done it before. Plenty of places I intend never to go back to. But Blake… I ain’t sure just what Blake is to me, but damned if some fat lion’s gonna take away the one tie I got.

  Damn that lawbat. Life was simpler when I was tied to nothing but winds and other folks’ money.

  I get the eerie feeling that I’m being tailed. I don’t look back or speed up, just fondle my guns.

  I’ve got to let the lawbat know what kind of gone I’m getting. I pass the City Office. I feel a flush of warmth against the cold, remembering my night there. Reasonable thing to do would be to hit up the public stables downtown and skedaddle. My paws take me toward the office. Guess I’m not the reasonable type.

  I pass Blake’s bay pony, which gives a low nicker at my passing, stirring at her post. Guess she won’t be hitting the trail tonight, leastwise not with Blake.

  I give some thought to writing a note, though pretty words were never a suit I ran strong in. I stop for a moment, thinking on how stupid I am. Damn it all, why the hell’d I have to go falling for him? Muddles my brain worse ‘an Hayes’ mine ever could.

  My heart beats a mile a minute and I put a paw over it. I feel something metal. My pin. I take a breath. I’m not swimming in other ideas at the moment, nor in time. It’ll have to do. I undo the clip on the back, holding it in my paw a moment. There are all kinds of reasons I should leave something else, but this ain’t the moment to argue with my ghosts.

  I climb the stairs. Ought to be funny to me that I am sneaking into a place to leave something, rather than take it, but I ain’t laughing. Pulling my hat low, I head through the front door. Now, I just have to stash this in Blake’s room and find—

  Deputy Harding.

  My heart about leaps out my mouth. Son of a bitch’s lucky my guns stuck fast in their holsters, else I’d of been halfway through emptying my chambers into his person. Having a bounty on my head’s made me a mite jumpy.

  Standing in the dim lantern light of the office, he tips his hat to me. “Evening, S
ix.”

  “What in blue blazes are you doin’ here?”

  “Waitin’ on you.” He manages a smile under all those jowls, all peaceable and pleased.

  The old dog’s sniffing out the future now? I step inside the office so as not to be caught flat-footed by passersby. “Bloodhound, I don’t got a mountain a time to jaw with ya, so listen close. Sheriff an’ I… I ain’t keen to leave on account a’…”

  “I know… I’ll tell him.”

  My untrusting nature causes me to pause at this and give him a look-over. Something deep in those puppy-dog eyes of his lets me believe him. I hand him the pin. “Give him this.”

  He nods. “Life ain’t about what we got, but what we got to come back to.” He pats my shoulder and I feel a queer tingle under his paw. “Ride east.”

  I swallow and turn around, steeling myself for whatever waits outside that door. After a breath, I marshal my wits and will, taking that first step—

  “Oh, and Six?”

  I do a bunny-freeze in the Arizona night.

  “Blake don’t take to other fellas riding off on his pony.”

  I look back. “You tellin’ me not to?”

  “I said other fellas.” He winks. “She’s saddled up.”

  Crafty old mutt. “Much obliged.”

  Ticks of the clock later, I dig my spurs into her flanks and we’re gone. I find the reins and ride hard for anywhere but here. Streets are still pretty clear and I’m gone in a hurry, gone before I can freeze up.

  Hooves thunder under me, biting deep into the dirt. I race off into the black without a thought to where I’m going or when I might be back.

  That troubles me some. But then, a heart’s a troublesome thing.

  Lo and behold, I come out here to find that he’s not only honest, he’s dead.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  I growl and stroke my mane as the last of my men stop fawning over me and leave me in peace. The useful ones have already headed out to find that damn bunny.

  My wife, seated on the divan, watches me enter. She’s wearing a modest dress and her fur is pristine. Her continence the same as it always is: bored. The Frontier holds few diversions for a lady of her class, aside from her being a shameless gossipmonger.

  “Welcome home, husband.” She turns a page in her dime novel, feigning interest. “I had Edith make beefsteaks.”

  I growl. The help goes home at sunset. Those steaks’ll be cold as a bog rat’s teat by now.

  Mary Elizabeth’s not a bad wife, after a fashion: of good breeding and knows to keep her nose out of the affairs of men. Too bad she’s barren as a husk— it’d be a pity for my line to end over something as insignificant as that. We have little reason to associate, aside from living together in blessed matrimony. I’d say she never forgave me for dragging her out here, but that would imply she took a shine to me in the first place.

  I pour a glass of bourbon and sit down in one of the other padded chairs.

  Tonight went perfectly. I was in town by the time the mine blew, with plenty of impartial witnesses. Everyone applauded my little announcement at the town hall. I hate to throw away money, but I only have to pay if they bring this Jasper idiot in. Once he’s here, well… I made sure to spread plenty of rumors that the reward would double if I got the bunny instead of the sheriff getting him.

  The sheriff will be easy to control. All it takes is the right words here and there on the city council and he’s gone, just another clodhopper with a gun. Half my men are better than he is. What’s worse, he’s predictable. Not like me. Ask anybody who’s muscled in on my territory, or who’s tried to hold out on my cut of the banditry. The ones who are still alive still have nightmares about just what a lion might take from them next. Money, mates, body parts: sometimes I’ve decided on the flip of a coin. I start to think about what parts I should take from that little bat first, showing up at my mine uninvited like he did…

  My claws come out. Mary Elizabeth winces as I carve grooves into the varnished wood of the armrest. I ignore her. I could crush the little bat with one paw. Not that I’m likely to get the chance again. Too dangerous, especially if he tries to accuse me. I’ll probably have one of the boys do it. Quietly, next time a new fool rides into town alone. I’ll get some men to testify against whoever it is and the matter will be over as fast as they can raise a scaffold.

  I breathe, cooling my blood. Odds are, the sheriff can be managed. I personally apologized to the man, told him how my idiot workers acted without consulting me. He accepted. The sheriff is, by all accounts, a man of honor, and I’d certainly like to avoid going against the law if I can. Leastwise until my plans for the ore are in place.

  I finish my bourbon and undress, getting into bed. The rabbit is more troublesome. In order to kill him, I have to… find him. I’m not eager to just sit waiting until he shows up again to finish me off. At least now I have the whole town out looking for him.

  Damn it all. I need to get control, both of myself and the situation. I sent word to Mei Xiu, but it’ll be days before she responds. Damnation, do I need to blow off some steam…

  Done combing her fur, Mary Elizabeth lays down next to me with a civil, if cold, look. Her scent tingles in my nose and my sheath, but the thought of bedding her disgusts me. Eleven years since she was sent out to me, and she still hasn’t produced a cub. Just a waste of seed. I ought to just find another wife, or at least a sweet little mistress, but the odds of that out here are close to nil. Not enough lionesses, and the few who are here are old and worn out by homesteading. I’ve developed a fondness for visiting a spicy little lioness at the brothel in Chance Canyon; the family back east says I should continue the Hayes line with her, but no heir of mine is going to be the son of a whore. Not that I’m opposed to a dalliance when I’m passing through. I am only a man, after all, but I take precautions.

  I’ve never believed in the superstitious hogwash like Uncle Julius did. Hell, he’d have let the ‘yotes paint him up and dance around him if they’d been so inclined. I, on the other paw, have no need for sorcery or savages, trusting more in the power of good sharp claws.

  The family had sent him out here to this little patch of desolation because this mine was small and out of the way. We heard strange things about what he was doing up here. Things about secret meetings and ancient writings. Once the mine ran dry, I didn’t really care when he never came back. But Father would have none of that. He was convinced that Uncle Julius was still producing, just holding out. Lo and behold, I come out here to find that he’s not only honest, he’s dead.

  Some bunny had stumbled upon my dear Uncle’s dealings and found a means to murder him. How the old fool let that happen, I still can’t reckon. Uncle Julius’s workers hit the hills, gutless cowards, only to come crawling back once they heard his nephew was in town. They’re not very smart, but they have their uses. There are just some things a man won’t do for money alone. And now they claimed the very same bunny was back to kill me too.

  Uppity little lago. There was a time, not too long ago, when folk like me ate folk like him. And he thinks he can just get away with killing one of us?!

  The fabric rips and tears. Mary Elizabeth jumps. I realize that I have been crushing the edge of the mattress with my paw. Deep furrows spew forth down feathers. Damn it all. It didn’t make any sense. I heard tell of that bunny— he was twenty, thirty at most. Uncle Julius got killed twenty-some odd years ago. That puts the lago in question at close to fifty. I saw that bunny. He was exactly how they described him, right down to those fancy guns and that little sneer. Nobody looks like that at fifty, with not even a hint of grey around the muzzle.

  I’ve never put much stock in Julius’s beliefs, but what if there was something to them? Even delusions have an element of truth. What if, buried under all this other nonsense his workers paraded before me, there was something real? And this bunny had found it. I curse myself for indulging in such drivel, but my thoughts are like a mountain, and no matter what road I take, thi
s is the only peak I come to.

  What if it keeps you young?

  What if that little lago has figured it out? It would just be a matter of getting my claws on him, squeezing out a little blackmail…

  A mad idea enters my head. Who needs an heir if you’re going to live forever? I snarl a laugh. A load of mystical ‘yote nonsense. Still it’s an entertaining notion. I shall have to hunt down the truth to this.

  I take Mary Elizabeth in my paws. Before the night is over, I sow my seed in her until she’s caterwauling and overflowing. And it doesn’t feel like a waste.

  “If it’s not even tea, why’s it have to be tea?”

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  With my blood still racing from the hunt, sitting and watching Mei Xiu make tea is a mane-rending torture. It’s all I can do to pace rather than run amok. “Why can’t we just make some damn—” I snarl over my coarse words. That’s no way to speak around a true lady. “—some coffee? It’d surely be faster.”

  The tigress doesn’t look up, focused on measuring scoops of dead plants into some manner of special kettle with graceful paws. A fine china tea set sits beside us. Flames from a small campfire dance beside her, mingling with her silk-clad pelt. Looking upon her now, you’d never know she was covered in gore not twenty minutes ago.

  I look up from my brooding and pacing to meet her gaze.

  The tips of white fangs glint from behind her supple lips. “Sit down, little kitten.”

  I bristle, then sit, a growl deep in my chest.

  She ignores me and pours water from a larger kettle into the smaller kettle then into tiny, fragile cups. I crushed one the first time she insisted on this bizarre oriental ritual. No anger found its way to her face in that moment, she simply poured me another cup and dared me with her eyes to break it.

  The desert spills out in all directions. Somewhere out in the wastes, her butler has disposed of our bloodied rags. Presently, the black-suited Siamese kneels at ease beside her, turning a teacup idly in his paws, stopping now and again to polish away some imagined smudge.