by Chloe Garner
“You’re the one in the hat,” Maxim said in the near dark. “Won’t that tip them off?”
“Lets me know when they’re aimin’ at me,” Sarah answered, using her elbow to push him on. She heard him chuckle. She stepped out from behind the rock, shooting fast as Jimmy broke into a run. There was a new eruption of shots as they realized that Jimmy was moving, but Sarah managed well enough to keep their heads down. She wasn’t as good as Jimmy at the near-range work, but there was only one rifleman left, which was better than Jimmy could say about the thicket of handguns rapidly surrounding them.
“Count?” Jimmy asked as he blitzed by her.
“Thirteen,” she said. “Think someone’s out in the bush layin’ low, but I can’t be sure.”
“That’ll be William,” Jimmy said, pulling her roughly by her elbow back behind the rocks. “He’s a knife man.”
“A relation to Kayla Lawson knows how to take a man’s life with his hands,” Sarah said with mild disbelief. She heard Jimmy snort softly.
The encounter went quiet and Sarah found herself leaning against a rock, inches away from Jimmy, face to face with the man.
“Call it,” he said. “They’re your bandits.”
“Annihilation,” she said. “I’m done with these bastards.”
He nodded. The alternate was to let them figure out that they were outgunned and out positioned and wash away into the mountains. The other issue with that was that, if they knew where the party was going to be, there was no reason to think they wouldn’t know where they’d been. The men at the mine would be a slaughter, compared to this. Sarah shook her head.
“No, we end it.”
Jimmy nodded again.
“Done. What’s the play?”
She dug into her pocket, bringing out a box of ammunition for her handguns.
“You got shot?”
“Enough,” he said. It was a lie. She shook her head.
“What caliber?”
He told her, and she cursed under her breath. She had it in her saddlebags and she had more on the pack horse, but neither of those were here. She handed him one of her guns, holding out a palmful of slugs. He didn’t hesitate, taking it and the ammunition and rolling his shoulders flat against the rock to load the gun.
“You’re the best shot here,” she said. “Or you were, last I knew.”
“Still am,” he said. “Maxim is ruthless, and Coriander can handle herself. The rest of them are somewhere in the middle.”
She nodded.
“Counter-ambush,” she said. “We send men out in threes, first ones circle left, the next ones circle right. Meet up around back and dump ‘em in here.”
“We could hold out here a long time,” Jimmy observed.
“Not against a capable sniper,” she said.
“Speaking of,” Jimmy said. She nodded.
“I’ve got him.”
He nodded, disappearing to go give the orders, as Sarah closed her eyes, listening for the last rifle. He wasn’t going to shoot again - she knew that. There was nothing to shoot at, and he’d out his location for no reason. What years upon years of tangling with bandits had done for her, though, was perfect her sound recall.
He’d shot six times. He would have reloaded his magazine in his downtime and would be watching the rocks as best he could in the bad light.
“Thomas,” Sarah hissed. “Thomas, get over here.”
It took a few seconds, but the Lawson appeared at her side.
“What is it?” he asked. “We’re getting ready.”
“On my go,” she said. “You still got that lantern from the mine?”
“No, but Wade has his. Wait, which one?”
“Don’t matter,” Sarah said. Bring it here.”
They were on the wet side of the mountains, still, but the dry air meant that most of the forest litter was dry within an hour or so of the daily spritzing of rain. The daily rain meant that the plants were healthy and happy and kept the forest litter thick. She took the kerosene lantern from Thomas when he returned and she counted out her shots, listening to the rifle one more time to be sure she knew where it was.
“Everyone ready back there?” she asked, turning. She was expecting to find Thomas, but Jimmy had taken his place.
“They’re ready,” he said. “I’m covering you.”
“Don’t need it,” she said without telling him not to do it. He ignored her.
“You have a signal?” he asked.
“How’s this?” she asked, taking the globe off the lantern and tossing it. It took a few moments for the flame to catch, but not long after that for the flame to grow, casting a wide, bright radius of orange and yellow flame.
“What the hell, Sarah,” Jimmy said. It wasn’t a question. He understood. “You are crazy.”
She took two steps out from the rocks, dropping to a knee and raising her rifle. She heard men running behind her. She’d illuminated them for the bandits, she knew, but the sniper couldn’t see her. She was behind the flames.
She shot.
It was the kind of shot that she didn’t have to second-guess. It just felt right. She stood and went back to the rocks at an easy pace, ignoring the bullets coming from inside the cluster of rocks, from around them, from everywhere.
“Time to run,” she said to Jimmy. He took five shots, then jerked his head at her, indicating their direction. She clamped her hat down onto her head and ran. He was behind her, still shooting.
They reached the perimeter the Lawsons had agreed on and stopped, watching as men darted to their left and right, encircling the bandits. Without long gun support, the bandits collapsed in toward the rocks, but there was no cover there, now. Sarah could see them as clear as day in the firelight. She shot three of them then, as she chambered the next round, handed Jimmy the empty magazine.
“Left pocket, low,” she said. She waited for him to fish the box of rifle ammunition out of her pocket, then took her next shot.
She didn’t need the reload. The rest of the bandits were dead by the time Jimmy finished it. She stood, arching her back, then shook her head.
“I’m gonna go look for injuries,” she said. “Get me Gremlin.”
“Where am I supposed to find gremlin if you don’t have any?” Jimmy asked.
“The horse,” she said. She heard him snort, but he left her, anyway, headed in the direction of the cluster of trees. She figured if everything else about Lawrence that was being supplanted by the Lawsons was gremlin-based, the horse may as well be Gremlin, too. She found Thomas first.
“You got a patchup kit?” he asked.
“Always,” she said. “Get ‘em lined up in severity, then start getting horses. Won’t be many left, but take what we can get. The bandits ought to have theirs tied up ‘round here somewhere, too.”
“Wade’s on it,” Thomas said. “No one wants to spend the night out here.”
She went to sit next to the firelight, ignoring the bandits that some of the uninjured investors were carrying off into the woods. Jimmy was the first to get to her with Gremlin. She stood and dug through her saddle bags to find her foam and glue kit for bullet wounds, then pulled ammunition for Jimmy’s gun and handed it to him.
“Fill yer boots,” she said, going to meet Thomas with the first of the investors, one from the middle of the trip whose name and occupation weren’t that important to Sarah.
“This is the worst?” she asked, looking at the hole through his shoulder.
“Everyone’s walking on their own,” Thomas said. She shrugged a little frown, then nodded.
“That’s a surprise.”
“These are the best of the best,” Jimmy said from behind her. “You don’t get to where they are without being survivors. Like us.”
“Been shot before,” the man said. Sarah sat him down in the firelight and filled the hole in his shoulder with foam, gluing it solid and then covering that. She got a strip of bandage out of her bag and tied it as a very rough sling, letting him hang
his wrist in it, then looking up. Two more men with gunshot wounds, neither as significant as the shoulder wound, were waiting.
“Everyone else just wants to patch at home,” Thomas said. “Wade has horses. We can go when you’re done.”
She repeated the quick process, leaving two bullets embedded for Doc to pull later, and then turned to look for Jimmy. He was gone.
She found him not far away, bleeding a tree.
There were certain trees on the wet side of the mountains that bled pitch when you cut them right, and he was rolling cloths in it.
“Figured you’d need light,” he said. “I’ll make a half-dozen of these, and the four of us can carry them. Try to keep anyone from going off an edge.”
She nodded, admiring the work.
“Didn’t know you still knew how to do useful stuff like that, Lawson.”
“Full of surprises,” he said. “Good shooting.”
“You, too.”
He twitched the corner of his mouth, then continued to work. She went to go get the line set.
For men who could handle themselves as well as they had in a gunfight, they were miserable at getting horses to stand still in a line. It took her twenty minutes to get them organized, and by that point Jimmy was back with the torches. She lit hers then used the flame of that one to light three more that he carried away with him.
Gremlin didn’t like the fire at all, dancing sideways and muttering at her, but she gave him a swift sideways kick to get him back on mark and looked over her shoulder.
“Get going,” Wade called. “We’ve got this.”
She did a count. They were still missing three men. Odds were best that the horses would go home - they were close enough to home that that was at least rational - or that they would come join the herd here for a sense of safety as they went along, but she could envision herself out here tomorrow trying to follow tracks. It was going to be a mess.
The first straggler turned up, bound tight in a bush about a half mile away, and Sarah cut him free, checking the man and the horse visually for significant injuries, then moving on.
Four more riderless horses joined them along the way, and then they found a rider without a horse about a mile and a half further on, as they crossed to the dry side of the mountains.
“Saw the torches,” he said. “Damned horse ran off without me.”
That led to another stop to get the man’s broken wrist tied and throw him up onto a horse. By this point, the only light was from the stars and the torches. Sarah let Gremlin pick his own pace, trusting the animal far more than she would have normally liked to in the dark.
Finally, hours after sunset, they reached the Lawson house. The last man was there, acting nonchalant. He admitted his horse had taken off without control and ran all the way here when Jimmy pressed him.
“Everyone’s coming in for drinks,” Jimmy said after they established that everyone was accounted for. “We’ll get you back to Lawrence later tonight and you can hit the tavern if you want, but I’m buying the round here.”
There was muttering of agreement, and they went inside.
“What happened?” Rhoda called from upstairs. “You’re really late.”
“We got ambushed,” Jimmy said as the men filed in and Rhoda ran down the stairs.
“What?” she asked. “Is everyone okay?”
“Nothing we couldn’t handle,” Jimmy said. “Sarah had it under control.”
“You’re hurt,” Rhoda said, crossing the entryway to look up at him, putting her thumb to a cut on his forehead. Probably from a bush as they were getting into cover. Sarah hadn’t paid any attention to it at all - it wouldn’t even form a scar. Seeing Rhoda touch his face, though, was hard to watch.
It was harder to watch her kiss him.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said.
This was wrong, unnatural, on so many levels. The rest of the man and Coriander made for the dining room, not paying any attention to Rhoda and Jimmy, eager to get drinks into their stomachs, but Sarah had to turn her head to pry her eyes off of them.
“I’m going home,” she muttered. “Got plenty to do in the mornin’ and it’s plenty late.”
“Thank you for keeping him safe, Sarah,” Rhoda said, turning and leaning her shoulder against his chest. “It really does mean a lot to me.”
Sarah shrugged.
“Ain’t got anything better to do with my time.”
She didn’t know why she said it. It just came out like that, and she left.
She was halfway down the hill, looking for Gremlin, when Kayla came bursting out of the house.
“Sarah,” the other woman called. “Sarah, wait.”
Sarah turned, waiting with her fists planted on her hips as Kayla came running down the hill.
She didn’t want to have this conversation.
She didn’t want to think about any of it.
But she was.
Jimmy with a gun drawn, careful aim, hitting targets like a bowstring drawn tight. Fearless.
In firelight. Tight jaw. Angry. Powerful.
With torches, looking up at her from next to her horse. Gray eyes.
With Rhoda reaching up to touch the tiny cut on his face, concerned. Protective.
Where did a woman like that get off being protective of Jimmy Lawson?
He didn’t need it. Shouldn’t have even wanted it. He should have rejected her, just for that.
But he hadn’t.
He hadn’t.
Kayla was talking to her. Sarah had no idea what she’d said, so far, but she was still saying things.
“You said you’d help me if I asked,” Sarah said, not trying to figure out what the slight woman had been telling her.
Kayla stopped mid-word, closed her mouth, opened it again, then nodded.
“Of course.”
“What...?” Sarah started, astonished that she was actually about to ask this. “What do I do?”
“Fight for him,” Kayla said. The confidence in her was shocking to Sarah, by comparison to her own lack.
“How?”
That, there, was more the look Sarah had expected. Concern. Maybe fear. Uncertainty.
“My way?” Kayla asked. Sarah shrugged.
“Ain’t got one, myself.”
“Make him see you,” Kayla said. “Make it so he can’t look away.”
Sarah was beginning to see what Kayla was headed for. She thought about it, then nodded once.
“Okay.”
Kayla gaped.
“Really?”
Sarah shrugged again.
“I ain’t lettin’ that one have him without a fight.”
“I’ll get someone to hitch up the buckboard,” Kayla said. “We should go now.”
“It’s late,” Sarah said. Kayla looked over her shoulder.
“You haven’t got much time left, Sarah. If you want to tell him that you’re interested, that he should consider you instead of her, you need to do it now.”
“What are you suggesting?” Sarah asked.
“We go to town. Right now. And I make you into someone he can’t take his eyes off.”
She didn’t like it.
She didn’t like it at all.
But she liked Rhoda even less. There was nothing wrong with the woman, certainly, but it didn’t stop Sarah from hating her, and that wasn’t even a little bit reasonable.
Sarah figured if she were going to be that unreasonable, she might as well just go with it.
She found the black horse and mounted up, going to the barn to see if Kayla was ready.
“I need to put together some things,” Kayla said. “I’ll meet you there.”
“I’ll wait,” Sarah answered, shifting.
“Oh, no,” Kayla said. “I don’t want you seeing what I’m bringing and trying to back out.”
Sarah raised an eyebrow at her and Kayla grinned.
“Trust me,” Kayla said.
“Not sure I think that’s prudent,” Sarah an
swered and Kayla grinned wider.
“You want to make a man see you, you have to change how he looks at you,” Kayla said. “For some of us, that means suddenly being tough when they’re least expecting it. For you, it means wearing a dress.”
“I have dresses,” Sarah said. Kayla shook her head.
“Not like this, you don’t.”
Sarah waited another moment, until Kayla waved her off, then shook her head and reined the black horse back around toward town.
“Gonna call you Gremlin,” she said. “Get used to it.”
The horse whuffed at her in the dark. She listened to the sound of the desert insects that came up out of the ground at night and, during this brief season of plenty, feasted on the hobflowers. They timed their hatch to the flower bloom; Sarah had no idea how they survived the flood every year, but they did. Gremlin didn’t seem to like them any more than she did.
“Stuff is gonna change,” she said, speaking to the horse out of lack of other audience, not because she was fond of him. “Stuff I been fightin’ my whole life, feels like. Lawrence was a good place.”
Did she believe that?
She didn’t.
Even when Elaine and Peter had been running it, Lawrence had been a rough, terrible place. It had made Oxala seem soft, frothy, pointless by comparison.
Much like Kayla’s dresses.
Sarah couldn’t believe she’d actually signed up for this.
“Ain’t like me,” she told Gremlin. “Don’t matter to me what Jimmy Lawson gets up to. He ain’t my concern.”
It had been simpler when it was just her and the bandits, each of them trying to hold on to little gains of power, the homesteaders planting their crops, tending their livestock.
Staying the same.
Was that really what she was fighting for? That nothing change? She’d known how it was going to end, back then. How long ago it felt, now. That a bandit out there somewhere had a bullet that was going to end her life sitting in his gun or in a box of ammunition on a shelf. It was just a question of time.
Jimmy meant change.
Big change.
Change that might make everything she’d ever tried to preserve completely obsolete.
She didn’t know what she wanted out of that change. She’d been fighting for so long to keep anything of the kind from happening, she was completely unprepared.