Chapter 7 - Mission Accomplished

   Day one of the ride back to Chuparosa transpired without much incident. Sure, Bradacus had blown the rattle off a rattlesnake while performing a one arm-ed handstand on his buffalo's back, and Leaking Pan tackled a wild and naked Wilko, but this was all within a normal day's range of operations.

   When it was too dark to continue, the group set up camp and started a fire.

   Reno puffed heartily on a wooden pipe, his green tobacco flaring with red embers with each pull. He passed the pipe around for all. Needless to say, he was a welcome addition to the team.

   “Give me those strips of horse meat,” Reno politely suggested. He cut the meat into thin round slices, adding a special blend of herbs and spices from his own garden before laying them in a frying pan.

   They sizzled for a few minutes. The aroma was stimulating.

   “There ya are, eh!” he announced once they were done. “Kanadian bacon. Enjoy!”

   And they did.

   When they arose the next morning, it was with great surprise they were greeted by Echo Twenty Aught Seven, a prisoner in his custody.

   “What have you got there, Echo?” Bradacus asked curiously, peering against the sun.

   “I wasn't the only one following you,” he said simply, running his fingers through his long beard. He threw the bound woman dressed in all black at Bradacus' feet.

   It was the ninja!

   Leaking Pan squinted, feeling uneasy. He watched Brad carefully, wondering what his next order would be.

   Bradacus kicked dirt in the ninja's face and paced around her slowly, considering the best course of action.

   “We could kill you now,” he said, thinking aloud. “But then we wouldn't know why you insist on following us.”

   Burning Zee's eyes burned with violence. “We should kill her and be done with her. She can't report anything when she's dead.”

   Bradacus considered it.

   “One chance I give you,” he said directly to the tied ninja. “Why are you following us?”

   Laurinda straightened to a sitting position and spoke, her blue hair intertwined with twigs and dirt. “At the saloon, it was obvious you gentlemen were planning something. I wanted to discover what it was and use it to my advantage.”

   Bradacus let out a loud laugh. He wasn't expecting such honesty.

   “Your truthfulness has earned you your life,” he declared. “For now.”

Brad's smile turned into a snarl as he saw the two horses standing behind Echo. Their smell was nearly unbearable.

   His gun already out, he fired six shots in rapid succession, his ire perfectly finding its mark.

   Laurinda's horse dropped to the ground with a shriek, its bullet-ridden body leaking blood over the dirt road.

   He walked over to its corpse and pissed on its head.

   “Nothing beats a dead horse,” he announced happily. He then turned to Echo. “I suggest you ride on without us. I'm not fond of horses.”

   Echo raised an eyebrow and mounted his steed, snapping the reins and disappearing down the trail.

   “What we do with her?” Pancake asked simply.

   “Lay her across the back of your horse. If she falls, leave her. If not, we'll question her more at Chuparosa.”

   Pancake took out a measure of rope and added another layer of knots. When he finished, he slung the doubly-bound ninja across his horse and the group continued plodding southward.

   Night fell. Burning Zee, as usual, broke into song and Pancake grilled his famous horse burgers on the fire.

   “Shrimp, oh ye delicious glockenspiel!

   “Prawn, ye wonderful xylophone!

   “Lobsterrrr timpani!”

   Zee banged on his guitar rhythmically.

   “Sea horse, get ye away from me!”

   Zee continued the song, delighting his friends with images of crabby bongos, shark cowbell, and whale tuba. The group munched on their burgers contentedly and Reno was kind enough to pass his tobacco around. Fine food, fantastic tunes, and living free with your friends. Life didn't get much better.

   “Here,” Leaking Pan offered, holding a burger to Laurinda's mouth as she stood tied to a tree. Hesitantly she took a bite. The more she ate, the more exquisite the horse meat tasted.

  Having eaten his fill, Bradacus tipped his ushanka to his friends before entering his tent. “Sleep well, boys.”

   Hours passed. When Pan was satisfied the crew was fast asleep, he carefully exited his tent, making sure he made no noise.

   Walking quietly to the tree to which Laurinda was tied, he put one finger to his lips, signaling her to stay quiet.

   When he reached her, he stopped inches from her face, not saying a word, staring into her eyes as if to say, “Trust me.”

   He circled behind her and began working on the knots to release her. Even though it seemed foolhardy, he knew he had to let her go. It was the right thing to do.

   “Oi!” Wilko shouted, alerting the camp to some disaster. “Get your sleeping asses out here!”

   The sun had not quite risen, but everyone scrambled from their tent to see what the fuss was.

   “What the devil?” Brad screamed in disbelief, seeing the empty ropes by the tree.

   “How?” Pancake wondered, scratching his sweet fro. “I tied those knots myself.”

   “You forget she's a ninja,” Leaking Pan suggested coolly. “No doubt she's trained to get out of the best of knots.”

   “That's for dern sure,” Cake agreed gloomily, still not able to wrap his head around how she managed to escape.

   “It doesn't matter,” Bradacus stated. “She didn't take our buffaloes. She can't beat us to Chuparosa or the McFartland's. No time for breakfast, I'm afraid. We ride!”

   The final day's journey home was soured by Laurinda's unexpected escape. Fortunately, a wandering spider bit Wilko in the leg, which for some reason induced a priapism in him lasting over eight hours. It should've been disconcerting, but it wasn't. It was hilarious. Wilko riding at full mast made for wonderful entertainment. It also, they realized, explained yet another reason why Wilko was so appropriately called Nine Shot.

   It was twilight when the wayworn men arrived at Kappa Kafe & Saloon. They tied their buffaloes next to the watering trough and wearily ambled toward the saloon. Before they could reach the swinging doors, Bradacus spotted of small figure struggling to make its way toward him.

   “No,” he muttered under his breath, not believing his eyes. He ran toward the furry creature that battled to place one leg in front of the other.

   “No!” he shouted as he got closer, clearly seeing that the animal laboring toward him was his messenger guinea Collin.

   Collin was in rough shape. His breathing was shallow and labored. His fur was stained red. Upon closer inspection, Brad could make out several serpent-like bite marks.

   “Water!” he bellowed, not taking his eyes off his beloved pet.

   Wilko handed him his canteen. Brad wasted no time cleaning Collin's wounds and binding them with small strips of cloth cut from his shirt.

   Based upon the dried nature of the blood, Brad knew these wounds were inflicted some time ago. How hard Collin must have fought to make it this far!

   He clenched his fist and slammed it into the ground.

   Then, ever so gently, Brad picked up his furry friend and held him close to his chest, clinging to the hope that the bites weren't venomous.

   He rocked his guinea pig lightly, humming and whispering words of comfort. Time stood still as Brad tried to channel his strength into his small friend.

   Not wanting to disturb them, the crew gave Brad and Collin their space and sat near the buffaloes, keeping an eye on them should they require anything.

   Collin whimpered and drew in a small, final breath. He had fulfilled his mission. He made it, despite the odds.

   Not far away, a wolf howled.

   Bradacus wept.

   How he loved him.

   Could not he have caused that this messenger guinea should not have died?

   He buried his face into Collin's unmoving body and cried.

John 11

35 Jesus wept. 36 Then said the Jews, Behold how he loved him! 37 And some of them said, Could not this man, which opened the eyes of the blind, have caused that even this man should not have died?

Chapter 6 - Reno

   The group's buffalo mounts were quite the spectacle as they paraded through town toward Reno's home. Still, the residents were kind and gracious as they gave Bradacus directions.
   When they reached the farm, Reno was hunched over tending to a crop of green tobacco.
   “Hail, you hoser!” Bradacus shouted across the tobacco field.
   Reno's head popped up, not believing his ears.
   “Bradacus!” he yelled squinting against the setting sun. “Friends! After all this time!” He dropped his hose and hastened toward his ushanka-ed friend. “What brings you all to my neck of the maple trees?”
   “You mind if we talk inside? Wilko's arm could use some attention.”

   Reno welcomed his friends into his home and sat them at a cozy table made from maple wood.
   “Aural?” he called to his wife. “Think you could stitch up Wilko's arm? He was mauled by a cougar, eh.”
   “I'll gather my things,” Aural said from another room, her voice rivaling Wilko's in sheer sex appeal. When she entered the room, she brought a needle, thread, cotton, and a bottle of alcohol. As usual, she was draped in a long cloth that covered her entire body including her face.
   That was the peculiar thing about Aural. No one in the Glue Crew had actually seen her. She was always concealed by her garments so that only her eyes showed.
   Hell, Brad wasn't sure if even Reno had seen Aural behind that sheet she called clothing. Her appearance was a total mystery.
   But when Aural spoke, all listened, for none could resist the silky caress that was her voice.
   Perhaps it was for this reason she chose to hide herself. If people caught sight of her, they might not be able to resist her captivating allure. As a public service, she hid her beauty, ensuring no one other than Reno could be completely enraptured by her.
   “Drink this,” she instructed Wilko, handing him a measure of the alcohol.
   Wilko grumbled. It was no cosmopolitan, but it would have to do.
   She dabbed the cotton to the bottle and began cleaning Wilko's arm. The friends all made small talk while Aural busily inserted stitches into Wilko's cuts.

   “As great as it is seeing you all again, I know you didn't drop by for a friendly visit,” Reno pronounced, getting down to business.
   Bradacus sat back in his chair and flashed him a wide grin.
   “Glue production, eh? What else would it be?” Reno stood up and paced about the kitchen. “I must tell you, I'm a farming man now,” he explained, motioning toward his acres of tobacco and assorted crops outside. “Very little interests me more than the fine tobacco I'm growing. I gotta keep it safe, you understand.”
   Pancake nodded knowingly.
   “Hell, I've even given up the gun.”
   “Given up the gun?” Brad asked incredulously.
   “Yup, just using throwing knives now.” He motioned to the full array of knives he wore on his body. He reached for a knife from his belt and threw it expertly at a photo mounted on the far wall. The blade went directly through the picture's eye.
   “I'm sorry you came all this way just for me to turn you down, but I've got a new livelihood.”
   Bradacus was prepared for this possibility. He knew Reno's answer might not be not no. But, he'd been friends with him a long time and knew precisely how to pique his interest.
   “You sure the sound of hundreds of horses being turned to liquid profits doesn't appeal to you?” he asked, just warming up.
   “'fraid that's the case.”
   “What about the squeals of said hundred horses as we extinguish their miserable lives?”
   “Not even that,” Reno replied, though his eyes glowed in reminiscent pleasure.
   Brad shifted in his chair. “Well, I guess I'll have to stop El Rota by myself then, seeing as he's the one guarding all those horses.”
   Reno stopped his pacing. “Pardon me, did you say Rota was guarding the horses?”
   “That's right. Rota and his Beast Rebels of the Hellscape have gone into protecting horses.”
   Reno snorted in contempt. “Protecting them? Those horse lovers!” he shouted. “I bet they fuck them too!”
   Bradacus smiled inwardly. Reno was in.
   “Oh, my Aural,” Reno turned to his wife. “I'll be leaving for a while. Take care and all that.”
   Leaking Pan raised an eyebrow. “That's how you say goodbye to your wife?”
   “She abandoned me for several weeks visiting the Galapagos Islands. She deserves it.”

   The matter settled, Reno gathered his things and together the Glue Crew departed on the three day journey to Chuparosa—but not before Zee managed to sneak a few shots of Aural's alcohol. Mmm, it had a refreshing maple finish.

Chapter 5 and 1/2 - It's Still Different Up North

   Leaking Pan's buffalo galloped at full speed to catch up to his party.
   “We're being followed!” he yelled once he reached Brad.
   “What? Who?” Brad asked startled.
   “That woman dressed in black back at the saloon. I don't know why she's following us, but she is. She fled when she saw me.”
   Bradacus considered what he'd been told. Should they try and track her? No, it would only delay their arrival and they needed to meet with Catalysts and Wikki Wald on time.
   “Keep a look out for her, but we need to continue to Reno's. We've got a schedule to keep.”
   Leaking Pan understood.
   “Nothing to do but press on, gentlemen. Be alert!”
   They rode on in silence, wary for her return.

Day 3

   Morning dawned and there was still no sign of the blue-haired ninja. Was she still following them? Had she left for good?

   As they rode, the treeline changed and Pancake suggested a lunch break.
   “See these?” he asked as he dismounted. “These are maple trees. Watch this.”
   Pancake removed his knife and fashioned an impromptu spigot from a branch. He hammered it into the base of a tree and a thick, brown liquid poured from the spigot and into Cake's outstretched cup.
   “How did you know that?” Burning Zee asked.
   “You kiddin' me?” Cake responded surprised. “Did you think a guy named Pancake wouldn't know a thing or two about maple syrup?”
 
   A vicious snarl erupted from the trees as a cougar sprung from hiding, knocking Pancake to the ground and leaving him unconscious. Wilko rushed to Pancake's aid but was batted away with massive paws and vicious nails.
   When the cougar spotted Bradacus, it was struck with overpowering desire. It turned, devoting all its attention to him, pouncing and leaping, hitting on him any way she could.
   Burning Zee was already up a tree. He jumped from its branches, landing squarely on the cougar's back. He rode the cougar like a wild man, getting swung to and fro, an enormous grin on his face as he tried to tame the pussy.
   Brad pulled his revolver from its holster, hoping to get a clear shot at the cougar while it leapt about with Zee on its back. Trying to shoot the cougar without hitting Zee was damn near impossible.
   Near impossible, he reminded himself as he ran his fingers across his ushanka for luck. 
   Looking down the sights, he pulled the trigger and sent a deadly bullet to whoever stood in its path.
   A horrible scream escaped Zee's mouth.
   “Why, Bradacus?” he shouted in pain as the cougar fell to the earth dead. “I was just about to conquer that beast!”
   Brad shook his head, the corner of his mouth cocked in a half grin. Burning Zee sure was one of a kind.

   Leaking Pan emerged from the forest, pulling up his zipper. “What did I miss?”
   Brad pointed.
   Pan looked at the cougar's corpse and blinked. Apparently he missed a lot in that short absence.
   Pancake came to and Wilko helped him to his feet.
   “Those cuts will need proper mending,” Pancake said to Wilko, noticing the large wounds the claws had made on his arm.
   Wilko looked at his bloody arm. “Bloody ripper!” he exclaimed. Because of his accent, no one could tell if he was swearing or shouting in excitement.
   “This horse glue will stop the bleeding temporarily, but you'll need stitches.” Cake applied a generous amount to Wilko's arm. “That oughta last until we find some.”
   “How much you think it'll cost?” Brad asked.
   “I'd say about tree fiddy.”

   By evening, the glue men arrived in the small, farming village Reno called home. Kanadia. As they rode through town, the villagers waved and smiled. Why were the people so friendly and inviting? It was strange and Brad didn't like it.

Chapter 5 - It's Different Up North

Day 1

   Brad squinted his eyes against the setting sun. They'd ridden all day, one day closer to reaching Reno in the north. He dismounted from his buffalo, as did his trusty companions, Leaking Pan, Wilko Nine Shot, Burning Zee, and Agitated Pancake, hastening to set up camp.

   Even though it had only been a day's ride, the air was noticeably cooler, the area quieter. It was a change from the heat and noise Brad had grown so accustomed to in Chuparosa. The difference immediately put him on edge.

   “Oi!” Wilko shouted, noticing a torn strap on his saddle. “I won't be getting far when this rips apart!”

   “I can fix that,” Pancake told him confidently, his brown fro bobbing up and down as he set to work. “Have it done in a jiffy.”

   Wilko watched as he worked. Cake was a handy man to have around.

   Zee started a fire and regaled his comrades with songs of love, loss, and horse slaying, while a pot of chili simmered on the fire.

   Bradacus smiled as he imagined the horses in Zee's song being ground to high quality glue.

   Leaking Pan was unusually quiet as he enjoyed his chili. He couldn't shake the feeling someone was following them, probably even watching them this very moment.

   “I've gotta take a leak,” he announced, walking away from the fire and into the woods. There were so many trees here. It would be easy to hide among them. He strained his eyes in the darkness, hoping to discover some shadowy figure hiding nearby.

   If there were someone, he couldn't see him, or her.

Day 2

   The group awoke and Brad set to making coffee. When it was ready, he sipped his steaming mug and sighed in pleasure. Aside from glue, coffee was truly the nectar of the gods.

   Without wasting time, the glue men broke down camp and continued their ride toward Reno. They still had two more days to go.

   “Brad, I'm gonna fall back for a bit. I'm afraid that chili isn't agreeing with me,” Leaking Pan lied, gingerly patting his stomach for dramatic effect. “I'll catch up in a bit.”

   Brad nodded his ushanka and continued riding with his crew as Pan fell back.

   Leaking rode his buffalo off the trail and into the thick forest. When he knew it was hidden from view, he tied it to a tree and double backed through the forest on foot, the better to stay hidden. He had to be sure no one was following them.

   Climbing up a large pine, he waited in the branches for someone to come down the trail.

   Sure enough, a lone rider dressed in all black came along shortly.

   When the figure rode just below him, Pan sprang from the tree and tackled the pursuer, knocking her off her horse.

   They rolled together in the dirt, struggling for position. Finally he overpowered her, the two of them breathing heavily on each other's faces as he held her pinned to the ground.

   “You!” Leaking Pan shouted, realizing this was the same ninja from the saloon. “Why are you following us?”

   The ninja squirmed, straining to break free of Pan's grasp, but his grip was too strong. All she managed to do was free her beautiful blue hair from her mask.

   “Answer me!” he shrieked. Her blue eyes complemented her hair perfectly, he noticed.

   The ninja took advantage of Pan's momentary distraction. Her knee crushed into his groin as she pulled him to the ground. In an instant, she rolled to her feet and leveled a long katana blade over his throat.

   “Make it quick,” Pan said simply, closing his eyes and accepting his fate.

   But instead of the sound of his death, he heard the patter of small footsteps running away. He opened his eyes to see the woman fleeing toward her horse. Without breaking stride, she leapt atop her mount, snapped the reins, and was gone.

   Pan scrambled to his feet and sprinted into the forest to retrieve his buffalo. Brad needed to know immediately.

Chapter 4 - Hot

Adjusting the katana at her side, Laurinda sat in the shade beneath a large bush. She wiped away the sweat on her forehead, her black leather, while certainly fashionable, wasn't helping in today's sweltering heat.

It was high noon and last night's mission had paid off. As soon as she spotted the gang of riders at the saloon, she knew following them would yield a valuable bounty.

Information was a commodity in the West, and now Laurinda possessed knowledge that would make her a fair penny. Bradacus was planning to steal the McFartland's secret team of horses. How much would Bonnie be willing to pay to keep those horses safe? Quite a bit, she was sure.

Then again, there was something special about the fellow with curly, black hair. Pan, everyone kept calling him. His features were gentle, yet he spoke with command. Would she really want to sell information that would put the extraordinary stranger's life in peril? 

She would need to follow the group more closely to determine the best course of action.

“Jingle, I want you with me, acquiring what our outfit will need.” Picard ran a hand across his cleanly-shaven head. He stood next to a hired stagecoach with four horses, his dome shining brilliantly under the full sun. 

“Echo, you remember that sneaky woman in black skulking about, the one with blue hair?”

Echo stroked his long beard to indicate he remembered.

“Be her shadow. I want to know what she's doing in Chuparosa.”

Echo turned away, the .207 rifle strapped across his back swaying, and like Burning Zee downing a shot, was gone.

“Driver, take me to the general store at Odd Fellow's Rest.”

“That's quite a long ride, mister,” the driver pointed out. 

Picard tossed a pouch filled with gold coins at him. “What do you think I'm paying you for?”

Opening the purse, the driver smiled a toothless smile, snapping the reins as soon as Picard and Jingle were settled inside the coach.

Brad stopped swirling his whiskey at the bar, cocked back his ushanka-ed head, and downed it. It was time to get moving, but first things first. He needed a shave. 

“Excuse me, Mrs. Noir,” Brad addressed her, intentionally using the married title. “Where can a man get himself a hot shave?”

“Miss Noir,” she corrected him. “And I told you to call me Dream.”

“My mistake, Dream,” Brad apologized. His tactic worked. She wasn't married.

“Me Schnitzel,” Dream yelled to the barkeep. “I'll be upstairs a minute.”

The barkeep nodded.  

“Just right upstairs, if you'll follow me.” She took Brad by the hand and carefully led him up the wooden stairs and into her apartment.

“Rachael, please prepare a pot with hot water.” 

“But, Ma! I wanna go out riding!”

“Please, Rachael.”

Rachael stomped into the kitchen, filling a kettle and placing it on the stove.

“Have a seat just over there, hon.” She pointed to a light brown chair near a window, a mirror hanging on the wall next to it.

Brad seated himself and Dream draped him in a white cloth.

“A man like you would look mighty fine with a beard,” she flirted. “Imagine it—Epic Beard Bradacus!”

Brad actually laughed, something he rarely, if ever, did. Dream certainly was something.

She retrieved her shaving kit, pulling out the shaving soap, brush, leather strop, and straight edge steel razor, placing them on the table next to her.  

“I see you favor the straight razor rather than the new safety razors,” Brad remarked.

“Naturally. Where's the fun in safety?” She winked.

Brad's heart quickened momentarily. Now this was a woman.

Rachael brought in the hot water and disappeared into her room. She had zero interest in what was about to happen.

Dream splashed her hands in the hot water, working up a fine lather with the soap. She bent over Brad, her chest showing off two porcelain masterpieces, and expertly applied the lather to Brad's face. Gently, she massaged the foam onto his god-like features.

Grabbing something from the table, she straddled Brad's leg. Her knee rested just next to his crotch, her hand wielding a gleaming, steel blade. She leaned forward for each stroke, her body rocking lightly against his. In no time, she felt a bulging next to her knee. She smiled knowingly and continued her long, expert strokes.

Brad had been shaved before, but never like this. Hell, hadn't he asked for a 'hot' shave though? His member pulsed against Dream's leg and he prayed she paid no heed. 

Finishing from the top position, Dream circled and took Brad's back. She held the razor high against his throat, the blade angled just so, her other hand sensually holding his neck tight. 

If she wanted, she could end it all, Brad realized.

His cheeks flushed with red as he felt her ample chest pressed against the back of his head. “Today is a good day to die,” he thought to himself.

The warm steel slid across his throat, hot liquid flowing down his neck and onto the white cloth. Was that blood or simply water? It didn't matter. The dream he had been lulled into was heaven. He didn't want it to end, no matter the consequences.

The blade slid down his neck several more times, its movement undulating with the promise of pleasure or pain. The combination of sensuality and fear was... marvelous.

When she finished, she came around and looked at Brad.

“I think I may have nicked you.” She bent over and softly kissed the corner of his mouth. “Oh, my mistake. It was nothing.” 

She removed the cloth and Brad stood uneasily, hunching forward awkwardly, for hiding eight and a half inches of man wasn't the easiest thing to do.

He cleared his throat. “What do I owe you?”

“This one's on the house, sug. Do come back, you hear?” Her Southern drawl made the words all the more sweet.

She showed him to the door, chiding herself she hadn't warned Brad about whoever was following him. But she had, at least, given him something he was sure to remember.

The door closed behind him and Brad waited for his arousal to dissipate before proceeding down the stairs. Now that he was shaved, it was time to recruit Catalysts, Wikki, and Reno.

He summoned his men from the bar and flung the swinging doors open. No sooner had he stepped outside then a snake sprung from its coil.

“Bradacus,” the serpent hissed. “I know you haven't forgotten about lil o' Ange.” She batted her blue eyes at him, placing an arm suggestively around his waist.

“Of course not, dear,” Brad replied smoothly, knowing he had to play his cards wisely.

“I'll be performing at Cowgirl Cabaret for the next month. When will I see you?”

“Not for a while, I'm afraid,” he told her. “Got some business first.” 

Ange Ruler narrowed her snake-like eyes at him.

“I will, eventually,” he added carefully. He had to be cautious dealing with Ange. She was rash and impulsive, liable to perform any manner of mischief. How she found him here still made his head swim.

“You better,” she said coldly, firmly grabbing his butt.

He removed her arm from around him and chatted a while, shooing her off with promises of making the wait worth it. By the time she left, he needed another whiskey.

But the whiskey would have to wait. He walked to his tethered buffalo, reached into his saddlebag and removed two of his most prized possessions, two guinea pigs, Collin and Bear. They were a gift from Wilko. How he came about them, he wouldn't say, but it furthered the notion Wilko was actually from Peru. These were, however, no ordinary guinea pigs. They were messenger guineas. They ran faster than a hawk and could memorize countless locations.

“Who's got paper?” Brad asked tersely.

Leaking Pan handed him two scraps of paper from his saddlebag and a bit of charcoal. 

Brad scrawled the first message and then the second, addressing them to Catalysts and Wikki Wald. 

                Meet at Kappa Kafe and Saloon on July 5th, one week from today, in

                Chuparosa. Need your help. Glue will flow like wine.
-Bradacus

The final sentence was code the Glue Crew devised whenever a high stakes glue operation required desperate assistance. It spoke not only of a high reward, but that obtaining it would be bloody, bloody and red, like wine.

Rolling the papers and sliding them into the small cylinders around the guineas' necks, Brad spoke to each guinea before releasing it.

“To Catalysts,” he whispered to one, and then to the other, “To Wikki Wald.” 

He placed the messenger guineas on the ground, and like a whip's crack, they were gone. 

“Well I'll be damned,” said a slovenly man staring at the glue men openly. “If it ain't the famous Do Gluers.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Zee asked angrily, his fingers reaching for the grip of his gun.

“Easy now,” the man said, holding his dirty hands out. “I have no quarrel with you. I, do, however, take issue with that man there.” He pointed directly at Wilko Nine Shot.

Wilko walked toward him and spat in his direction, eyeing the stranger narrowly. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I should expect such manners from someone as yourself,” he said. “You're speaking with Encrusted Joe, Mev Gamer's new business partner.”

Wilko's lips curled into a snarl. “Best be on your way before something bad happens to you, boy.”

“I ain't scared of you, Wilko,” he said indignantly. “It's sweet serendipity our paths have crossed. Imagine how pleased Mev will be when I return with news of your death, the man who stabbed him in the back!”

“Mev betrayed me!” Wilko bellowed, the memory of this old injury filling him with fury.

“Don't matter. I'm sure he'll pay me handsomely for your head.”

“Where is that filth?”

“Far from here, unfortunately.” Joe stepped to the side, measuring Wilko with his gaze.

“Say, Wilko, I know why they call you Nine Shot,” he sneered. “'Cause it takes you nine shots just to hit your target!”

The men stared at each other in open hatred, pacing in a wide circle, daring the other to reach for his holster. Pulling his pistol first, Joe quickly leveled it at Wilko.

A bullet tore through his head and he flopped to the ground with a thud. Wilko holstered his nine shooter and grinned. In one shot, he'd proven the man wrong. Dead wrong.

“Leave the body,” Bradacus ordered. “Someone will find it and word will reach Mev.”

Wilko spat on the body before walking back to his mount. Fuckin' twat.

“We ride to Reno's!” Brad shouted, mounting his buffalo and pointing to the north.

Wilko One Shot, Agitated Pancake, Leaking Pan, and Burning Zee leapt atop their trusty buffaloes, beginning the long and grueling trek northward.