‘Please tell me that you’re down there, old man. I would hate to toss this scratch in whatever is causing that unholy stench.’
Ralust stepped out from the shadows beneath and into the cone of light. ‘Hah! They said you was prissy! Luckily for you I’m not put off by this smell. I’ve endured your breath in the morning – it’s not too dissimilar. Toss it down, lad, quick.’
Cole pushed the bags down the recess, hearing them thump onto concrete. Under the street, Ralust was accompanied by two trustworthy hands who loaded the bags onto a small hand cart. Cole patted the stinging from his hands.
‘That’s the lot!’ Cole called down.
The street was now stirring with commotion as word got out that the bank was being held up by unsavoury individuals. In their saddles, Jack and Alvina kept their guns trained on any would-be chancers who felt brave to the point of reaching for a weapon.
The voice drifted from the sewer. ‘You best start running.’
‘Yeah, you too. Best of luck.’
Cole patted the shoulder of one of Ralust’s men who had blocked the alley and proceeded to replace the manhole cover with two hoops of metal that looped its handles. He shimmied between the oxen who looked up momentarily from their gluttony, then he hoisted himself up onto his mare.
‘The drop’s done, we’re good to go.’
‘I don’t see any further reason to be here.’ Jack motioned Blake to take his leave as soon as possible. As Blake nodded in compliance, he had neglected to notice the bank manager take hold of an unconfiscated weapon and shout obscenities. He only let a single round off, which buzzed Blake’s ear with its hot sting, forcing him to recoil. Immediately, the Jackrabbit snapped back and fired in retaliation, much more accurately and much more lethally. As the bank manager struggled to retreat from injury, Blake finished the confrontation by administering a fatal dose of lead poisoning.
The cracks of gunfire sent the people in the street scattering. The door to the bank swung open. Blake cupped his ear, a trickle of blood seeping between his fingers.
‘You just couldn’t behave, could you?’ Jack groaned, ensuring that the mask was in no danger of slipping. The locals had begun to disperse. It was inevitable that the Bluecoats would be on their way.
‘Misbehaving seems to be a trait of mine. I’m fine though, thank you for asking.’ He pulled himself into his saddle and set the decoy bag onto his back.
‘I don’t recall that I ever did.’ Jack whipped his horse’s reins. ‘Let’s move! Hi-yah!’
* * *
Horses pounded down main street. By remaining in sight with the decoy bag, the intention was for the law to give chase and lead them away from where the money was actually being transported. It was a simple trick, nothing more than a sleight of hand that even the simplest of illusionists could master. Nevertheless, it worked perfectly.
Soon, the Jackrabbits were joined by a Bluecoat contingent on horseback that exploded out from a side road from their rear. Their calls for surrender were naturally ignored so they resorted to opening fire. Immediately Jack led them all down tight streets, winding paths and all the other pre-planned routes that Ralust had explained in the briefing. Trouble was expected of course but the bullets whizzing overhead were far too pressing for Blake to be composed.
‘Bluecoats! Dammit!’
‘We were prepared for this! Just keep going – we’ll lose them in the alleys! Keep your head!’ Jack bellowed, yanking his horse this way and that.
The group burst out onto a road parallel to a canal where the smaller passenger sand ships trundled down. There were three chasing now, the numbers thinned out by losing them down back alleys. The plan was working. Now there were only these stragglers to contend with.
‘That’s easy for you to say, you’re not the one getting shot at!’ Blake glared behind, watching the group get closer and closer. His horse was tiring quicker than expected. What sort of decrepit nag did Ralust scrape up for this job? The sound of gunfire from behind began to make him flinch, squirming in his seat, lowering himself from time to time.
‘It’s getting awfully cosy back here, boss!’
‘Shut up and focus!’
‘How’s about we swap places so you see what it’s like?’ Blake fumed in response.
In that moment his mind was not on the street and he couldn’t tell if it was a drift of sand on the road that made the horse beneath him skid, or being spooked by a bullet. Either way the outcome was the same. Alarmed, the horse jolted to the left, smashed through the rotten wood fencing that ran alongside the canal and slid down the incline before taking to the sand.
Alvina checked behind her, watching the three Bluecoats break off and chase Blake only. Of course they would. He was holding the decoy bag, unlike the rest of them. She shouted out a curse. Jack commanded her to keep herself steady and follow the plan to the letter.
‘Keep going, there’s no time! He knows where we’re meeting up. He’ll be fine.’
Instead of complying, Alvina pulled her reins to the left and led her horse to the fencing. The Bluecoats drove on past in plumes of dust, gaining considerable ground on their quarry.
‘Alvina, get back here!’
Alvina kicked her mount onward.
‘With all respect, Jack, up yours! I’m getting our man back. He’s in trouble.’
Her horse leapt the fence, skidded down the angular concrete slope and hit the sand at a gallop. She cheered on the horse who complied with speed now that there were no pesky streets to deal with.
Alvina lined herself up behind the three Bluecoats, puffs of cordite rushing over their well-suited shoulders as each revolver cracked. It was a miracle Blake had survived this long, only doing so by slipping behind cover and weaving back and forth to prevent a clear shot.
Alvina wrapped her reins around her left fist and withdrew her revolver with the right. She rode up closer, closed one eye and set her sights on the left-most Bluecoat. The trigger was squeezed, letting fly a wad of lead into the horse’s rear end. The horse tripped, went down on itself and rolled, launching the cyan-uniformed man forward and crashing into the sand. The next in line was dealt with in the same fashion except the horse veered violently to the right, slamming into the other before it fell, and taking its rider underneath with them.
The last of the three had his horse rear in panic and turn. By the time the animal put its legs down on the ground, it had turned back on itself. The Bluecoat spotted Alvina thundering towards him with arm outstretched. Immediately she fired upon him, striking him in the shoulder, forcing him to fall from the saddle.
Now clear, she drove the horse on, alongside Blakestone who gave his apprehensive thanks.
‘Jack’s gonna be pissed you broke his rule!’ He laughed, looking up the incline to him and Cole riding on.
‘I didn’t kill anyone. Not directly at least.’
‘Don’t think he’ll see it that way.’
‘Let him see it however he wants. Getting you back alive was much more important.’
She hoped so at least.
* * *
The Jackrabbits made it to the warehouse and laid low. Bluecoat patrols did the rounds on account of witnesses stating that they saw the group ride into the district, though due to the sheer number of establishments, it was impossible to search them all. The horses were hidden inside in the basement and the Jackrabbits changed their clothes to resemble one of the hundreds of dockworkers who congregated around the place or meandered from job to job. Upon their leaving there was no suspicion put in their direction. The Bluecoats continued their enquiries to the point that the Jackrabbits walked straight past a pair who quizzed them about anything of a suspicious nature.
Naturally the Jackrabbits feigned surprise and agreed to keep their eyes open and report anything out of the ordinary.
By the time they made it back to the safe house, Ralust was already set up in the basement, working out numbers and binding piles of notes. He had the ledger open and at the corr
ect page but his pen went unused in it. Whatever gobbledygook filled its pages he was unable to decipher, so, as a compromise, he began his sums on fresh pieces of paper that could be burnt when done if the desire took.
‘We need to talk about people following orders,’ Jack stated, taking the ledger and transferring numbers into it from Ralust’s notes.
‘Given the situation I believe it’s accurate to say that I saved Blake,’ Alvina said matter-of-factly. Immediately Blakestone grunted in his seat. ‘It was either that or let him get shot to pieces. Being that he’s intact I would consider it to be one of my better decisions. You can say thanks at any time.’
Insubordination was normally met with critical words. Threats soon followed. After that, nobody knew as it had never reached this point. Surprisingly for Jack, he didn’t even begin a tirade in wake of the recent disobedience. It took Cole to break the uncomfortable silence around the table with what he thought would be a genuinely pleasing conversation.
‘How much is our cut?’
‘Twenty per cent,’ Jack returned.
Immediately Blake scoffed, tossing his head back. ‘That’s a mistake. That’s too low.’
‘No,’ Jack corrected, watching Ralust speedily collect the notes together. His skill with binding the bundles with string was impressive. ‘That’s the way it is.’
‘What of the rest?’ Cole continued.
‘It’ll be used as tribute.’
‘What for?’ Cole asked, scrubbing his hands clean in the sink. For some reason, no matter how hot the water and copious the amount of soap used, they still seemed soiled with dirt and the stench of gunpowder.
‘Donovan Kane. Bigger fish, remember?’ Jack continued. ‘This’ll go towards one of his larger asks. I suspect he’s making some losses as of late and needs bad people like us to fill in the gaps in his books.’
‘We could do a lot with that money, Jack.’ Blake made an attempt at reason, spying the newly bundled notes with an insatiable hunger. ‘I mean, come on, look at it all. It’s all so pretty. That could take us far.’
‘That it could, but it’s not up for discussion,’ he replied, firmer this time.
‘Not even a little?’
Jack stopped in his actions and looked up beneath his fringe, stern enough to stop the pleading in its tracks.
‘Why do I find it necessary to repeat myself? I said it wasn’t up for discussion, didn’t I? You two are lucky I don’t dock what you get on account of that stunt you pulled!’
Things fell silent with only the pulling and cutting of twine that Ralust performed with dizzying speed. Finally, Jack, after marking in the ledger the numbers of importance, slid over a bundle to Cole.
‘Thank you all for your hard work. Cole, don’t spend that all at once. I promised you that you’ll get your money back and then some. Consider that the first payment.’
With trepidation and quite aware of the scowling Blake was giving from behind, Cole took his share and meekly gave thanks. He was as surprised as anyone else though thumbing through the currency brought a smile to his features. It was a good step towards the missing money for sure.
‘Oh that just ain’t right,’ Blake wailed. ‘How come he’s getting a cut?’
‘He did his part in all this. He gets paid for it just like the rest of us. Anything else would be against my reasoning.’ Jackdaw counted up the next series of bundles and wrote the new numbers down into the ledger. He pushed his glasses up his nose with the end of his pencil.
‘I don’t think that’s the best of ideas. He’s still cutting his teeth isn’t he? It’s hardly fair,’ Blake protested. His constant questioning was now beginning to irritate Jack.
‘Then it’s a good thing I’m making the decisions then, ain’t it?’ Jack retorted.
‘Hold on just a minute,’ Blake grunted. ‘You said Donovan is making a loss. What’s he said to you? And how much is he wanting?’
‘Donovan Kane has insisted we pay him a little more to keep his favour,’ Jack said reluctantly.
‘Little ain’t no number I’ve ever heard of,’ Blake scoffed.
‘How much is a little?’ Cole probed.
It took Jack seconds to scan their hungry faces. Withholding the amount wasn’t going to do him any favours, then again neither would revealing it.
‘Fifteen per cent.’
‘Is he serious?’ Cole’s jaw fell open in astonishment.
‘Per month going forward,’ Jackdaw added, knowing full well what the response would be. A sheer explosion of noise came from everyone bar Ralust who folded his arms and observed the commotion.
‘He what?!’ Blake roared. His chair launched backward as he stood, falling onto its back in a clatter.
‘That’s outlandish.’ Alvina buried her head in her hands.
‘Jack, the way we’re operating currently there is no way we can match that payment on a regular basis,’ Cole grumbled. The financial strain would fill his coded ledger with nothing but red. While the other Jackrabbits begrudgingly accepted this turn of events, the temper of one eventually broke its chains of restraint. Blake gestured wildly, his one good eye full of fire.
‘Whatever did you do for him to put the screws on us like this?’
Jackdaw got to his feet to meet the challenge, knowing if this situation didn’t have a lid put upon it, it could spiral out of control with speed.
‘You think I caused this? He’s a bastard. This sort of thing is what a bastard does,’ Jack retorted, striding up to him to confront such a mutinous tone.
‘Of course you did this – who else is responsible?’ Blake threw his hands into the air, now enraged enough to speak his mind. It was a long time coming and there wasn’t a soul in the room who hadn’t expected this outburst. The only surprise was that it had taken this long to occur. ‘Look out the door some time, Jack, this town isn’t ours any more! Everybody knows it! We’re fighting to keep ourselves above water at the best of times but this … this will be the end of us. I can put it down to bad business or bad luck – I’m fine with either. But this little revelation you’ve dropped on us was neither, was it? No, see, this I put down to you. You ran your mouth maybe, insulted Donovan to his face, who knows what – nobody in this room is familiar with the details because nobody here is privy to your little talks, but do you know what I would place money on, Jack? Do you know where the smart bet would be?’
Blakestone extended an accusing finger in Jack’s face, who failed to blink as it danced about in his eye line.
‘I would put all I’ve ever earned on the cause being your smart-alecky, self-centred cocksure bullshit to get Donovan’s back up, leading to him cranking up tribute out of retaliation. Whatever you did, it wasn’t out of furthering business. It wasn’t for us. It because the great Jackdaw simply cannot help pissing people off.’
Jackdaw sent a right hook straight across Blake’s blind side, snapping his head to elsewhere as it collided into the cheek. Rather than put him down, the punch was absorbed with Blake’s leg skidding outward to prevent losing footing. Instead, he used the momentum to whip his left fist out and strike Jack in retaliation.
For a second Jack found his world full of stars and white. Of course he did. This was the reason Blakestone was hired. This raw muscle was a cornerstone of the group, a necessary requirement to bring about intimidation. Blake was far stronger than him and Jack was no pushover to be sure.
Yet no matter how he presented himself and whatever words he used, Blake lacked the outstanding fury that Jackdaw held. It was a poisonous concoction of frustration and rage. The constant anger of having to be nothing short of a slave to monsters to the likes of Donovan and Wilheim just to survive simmered always. Then there was the conflict that siding with men so borderline evil went against the advice of the one who taught Jackdaw the role when he was a youngster. Living like this was a daily betrayal. Blake was angry, for sure, and he had every reason to be. Compared to Jack though, his reasons were nothing more than an immature tantrum.
Bells chimed in Jackdaw’s ears. The stars pulled away from his vision. The white still remained but through it was the looming visage of Blake drawing back a fist to capitalize on the opening.
Jackdaw tore the air with a hard left cross, accompanying it with the right in a one-two that rocked Blake momentarily enough to weaken his legs. A final overhand right came down against Blake’s temple like a comet, felling the man with such impact that he crashed into the floor, causing the others to leap away from the table, sending glasses trembling and their contents spilling.
Blake struggled with his fingers to steady his person but they were uncooperative. His legs ignored almost all calls to motivate themselves, leading to his boot soles squeaking against the floorboards. He had never been hit that hard and from Jack of all people.
A shadow spread over his person as Jack stood over him, scrutinizing the damage. He spat the blood from his mouth, giving Blake just enough time to roll onto his back, though lacked the energy for anything else.
The Jackrabbits behind him collectively held their breaths.
‘I’ll say this to you just the once. Get in line or I will put you in line. Do you understand?’ Jackdaw dragged his knuckles over his bottom lip, still iron-strong in case of the need of a follow-up. His words rolled like thunder over the desert plains. ‘Or am I actually going to have to raise my voice?’
Blakestone slowly nodded, blinking away sparks. Maybe there would be other opportunities to voice his discontent but today, this dispute was over. Jackdaw extended a hand to assist him up and, after some hesitation, Blake finally accepted the offer.
Chapter Eleven
The wanted man
‘Just these.’ Alvina passed a handful of letters over to the postmaster, letting him scrutinize each through thick glasses and copying down the addresses into a blotter. As she rummaged through her jacket for the money, her attention was caught on a series of wanted posters that had been put up for the region.
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