The morning came quick as Judge Nagy and his men prepared to leave. Pope refused to look me in the eyes. I could feel his parental anger as Abby walked past him entering the armored carriage. Nagy had relief in his eyes knowing they were riding out under my protection. Chief Kanelo wasn't one to break tradition. I beat his son, and it gave safe passage to Nagy regardless of how they felt. Knowing Abby would be safe made my hunt less stressful. I could concentrate on the Grimsby gang.

  “Kaplan is joining you on your hunt. She will carry my name if you need to travel into civilized territories.” Nagy said.

  Translation, Judge Nagy wanted eyes on me. A measure of control that makes him feel he has pull. It's fine. Kaplan has no say in what and how this plays out. She is an extra gun and Nagy’s spectator.

  “Fine by me. She will have to keep up. Otherwise, she is on her own Will.” I said.

  “It's Judge Nagy, you animal!” Pope said through gritted teeth.

  “To you!” I knew that would burn Pope’s grits that I used Nagy’s first name. It's definitely not his day today.

  “It's fine, Pope. Corris Lee has earned his place with me. Stand down.” Nagy said. His voice was stern and forceful. Pope didn't want to push his luck like Kaplan did yesterday.

  Me and Abby locked eyes as she adjusted herself in the carriage seat. The wind didn't move a strand of hair from her head, which was pulled back. She placed a hand on the door, inviting me to come to her. I walked over, nudging past Pope.

  I touched her gloved hand. She rubbed her thumb against my tattooed hand. “What's the word of the day?” She whispered.

  “Sacrifice.”

  “Retribution. For Asher.” Abby said.

  I watched the armored carriage roll away with Nagy’s men. Pope left me with a lingering glare that I am sure. He wanted to see me dead. If looks could kill.

  Kaplan waited for what I would do next. I didn't leave her in question for long. I knew the Grimsbys well. I wanted to start my hunt with the most capable of the family.

  "We're starting with Paul Grimsby. The middle child. He's bad news. Because most of the time he is made the news. Nothing happens in the Grimsby family that isn't first planned by him. We find Paul, we find the family." Kaplan untied a rolled up a leather jacket where she stored maps. Unrolling it on my rickety table, knocking a chair over.

  "Caleb Grimsby, the Outfitter? I thought he is the go-to family member?"

  “Yes. Clothing, guns, weapons cache, safehouses. You name it, he supplies it or knows who will. He is the most logical choice to run down.” She handed me the wanted poster from the territories. The Grimsby are like ghosts. They can vanish for months before their unholy terror is unleashed on some poor unsuspecting town.

  My wooden table could uncomfortably sit four, if I had more than two chairs. It served its purpose for the war planning. In place of my dinner plate were hand-drawn Shift maps. Maps of the byways, outlaw trails through Indigenous territories and the deadly Shadelands. How the hell did Nagy get a hold of those?

  I knew he had the stroke, but that should be out of reach even for him. Yeah, this ain't laying right.The dried blood stains, smeared across Oklahoma told me how they got them. The Dark Frontier is no place to be gambling with directions. Especially on days when the Sun isn't where it's supposed to be.

  Corris: "Paul Grimsby would be a better choice. He uses the back country behind Shepherd's..."

  “Caleb is our first target, Mr. Carson." Kaplan quickly cut me off. The powerhouse had a pair of huevos on her. In my home. Imagine that.

  Corris: Remember Custard Sunday? The Outfitter from California? Maybe his little brother Percy?

  Eve Kaplan: "No, who is..."

  Corris: Exactly. You don't know him because Outfitters aren't found at the General Store sacking groceries for your grandma. They are skilled in covering their tracks. Piss one off bad enough and they will lead you to a Mama bear's den full of her cubs.

  Eve Kaplan: Look, Corris. I need to have some operational say in this plan. I did the heavy lifting getting these to you. Half the countryside doesn't have a clue these maps even exist. This hunt is based on my work. That gives me some room to have...

  Corris: NOT A GOT DAMN THING! That's what your work has earned. There is one boss here. One man calling the shots from here on out. Me. Don't like it? The door isn't locked. Feel free to ride out of my home whenever you feel so inclined.

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  The only sound in the room was my sun-bleached curtains, flapping gently in my crude window. Kaplan paced back and forth. Hands in her pockets. Her black tattoos etched deep in her tanned skin. Sweat ran down the side of her head. She jutted her chin out. I am damn sure having a black man talk to a white man like I did the Judge. I would have been certainly swinging from on a tree before the Judge raised his hand. I ain't that man. She wasn't Judge Nagy. I talked to her how I like.

  "Okay, Corris. You're calling the shots," Kaplan said. Her chest puffed her out some. She needed to save face. I gave her that one. Being an extra shooter when going after the Grimsby gang. Two guns are better than one.

  "Isn't Paul the trapper? How the hell are we going to find him? We'll be walking into a trap from any angle. He would see us coming way before we make his position. He would control the engagement. The sight lines, angles..."

  “If our blessing holds.”

  “Wait, you want him to pick us off? Tell me that is not your plan?”

  “What happens when a trapper catches an animal?”

  “He skins them. Why?” Kaplan quickly answered.

  “He has to check the trap first to ensure the animal is incapacitated. Trapper or not, he's still a hunter.”

  I told Kaplan to get her horse and arms. I wanted to ride with the storm as long as it traveled south. If we're lucky, it will mask our steps until we are right up on him. Paul isn't an easy target. Tracking him in his element is a suicide mission for many. With me, our odds dramatically change.”

  I looked up at her face. My muscles in my jaw set.

  She held my gaze with those blue eyes of hers. A slight smile appeared on the corner of her mouth. A sharp pain struck my right arm again. My veins bulged underneath my shirt. I watched her Kaplan roll the maps back up roughly. She was frustrated with me already. She definitely wasn't a typical woman in the employment of Judge Nagy. A female gunman who earned her right next to Pope meant she had to sacrifice Alot. Much of what makes her a woman I reckon. She was devoid of defining emotional and physical characteristics of femininity. Just a female bruiser with a penchant for overcompensating. A Billy Trigger.

  Inside the Armored Carriage…

  The ride started off smooth save for the occasional slip of a wheel through the mud. Riders flanked all sides of the mechanical wonder. Steam constantly poured from two brass pipes running from under the Brolly Stage Two clockwork Beetle engines. The chittering clockwork-like machine is the Brolly Company's latest innovation of compressed steam motors. The science behind the tiny, self-contained wonder is as much of a status symbol as owning a horseless stagecoach.

  Nagy invested much of his family's fortune in the small, innovative company years ago that survived the plague. When the plague continued to ravage the entire north continent, taking with it, the light of many human souls. Thousands upon thousands perished. Men, Women. Children. Young and old blew away like chaff. A man's life was but a lit candle in the center of a tornado. If you look closely in the tall red grass, your horse could crunch a human skull under hoof. The range where Corris made his home had a name at one time. Lost in time. Gone and forgotten to the annals of time. Survival is a Nagy family blood trait.

  “Abby dearest, I know you are upset with me. You're becoming a woman soon, and I need to start treating you like one.”

  “I'd say so. You had me lie to Corris like a woman.”

  “You didn't lie, dearest. You did as your father asked. For your brother, Asher. When you become a parent you will realize truth and lies are just different forms of currency for specific purchases. You are a Nagy. With that comes a certain level of... blood on your hands. Like Eve from the Bible, the first mother. God didn't remove that birthright. It burdened a high penalty is all. A just penalty.”

  “Eve disobeyed God, daddy. She lied saying the serpent deceived her.”

  “Yet Eve still bore humanity in the process with Adam. Lies may not buy the good products. However, it will still accomplish the task it was purposed.”

  “When Corris Lee finds out? Because he will. We will bear the vengeance he will wrought against us all, daddy.”

  “I know Corris Lee. Probably better than he knows himself. Don't fret, daughter. I make contingencies for this very reason. Your mother taught you that forward thinking is a skill not a talent. A teachable one. You learned the first lesson today: The Nagy Predicate.”

  “The Nagy Predicate, right, daddy. You never failed to practice its efficacy on all of us.”

  “Now don't you push me too far, Abby. I don’t owe you or anyone in this family a justification for my hand. That's the problem with your mother. She enjoyed the Nagy name but not the responsibility that comes with it.”

  “She isn't property, daddy.”

  “We are all owned by someone. The difference is the firmness of the hand that feeds you. I have done right by this blood. You have the luxury of questioning me. Your mother does not.”

  “Daddy, Nagy Manor isn't a home. It's a house of smoke and mirrors.”

  “You used some of those smoke and mirrors when you spent the night with Corris Lee.”

  “He is a total gentleman. Always has been.”

  “You returned back to me unspoiled. I would say the Nagy way has once again proved to be the right way.”

  “I am not YOUR property and neither is Corris Lee.”

  Nagy didn't respond. Arguing with his spirited daughter wasn't the ideal way to spend his time on their way home. Sitting quietly across from them, Pope kept his eyes on Red Mesa. The thought of Corris Lee being responsible for their safe passage didn't sit well. Pope didn't share the progressive attitude towards the free man Corris Lee. Their relationship has always been one of fog and mirage. Like a stage magician, you can never trust what you see.

  Thunder boomed throughout the Red Mesa. Lightning highlighted the beauty that the long plains displayed. Fear streaked down their spines knowing by sundown, something would be crawling out from the regressed shadows. Creatures that harrow men until the first rays of sunlight.

  Pope rapped his fist on the polished wood roof, signaling the driver to get the coach moving. No way did he want to get caught out in the open with those monsters waiting for their chance to feast on their bones.

  Abby looked out at the Red Mesa with the atmosphere in the carriage became too tense.

  Pope leaned over to Judge Nagy when he noticed Abby was no longer paying attention to them.

  “We are playing a dangerous game with Corris Lee”

  “Extreme circumstances Pope. We can't move forward until we have the blood from my hand washed.”

  “Are you really going to give him your daughter's hand?”

  “She is a carrot Mr. Pope. Motivation for Corris Lee.”

  “And if he does the impossible?”

  “Oh he will move tear down the gates of heaven for my Abby.”

  “It won't end with the Grimsbys. It will blow back to your family.”

  “My dear Mr. Pope. That's the goal. To build a nation you need a spark. A vision and a bloodshed. I am the voice of that nation. It just needs the soil watered by blood.”

  “Sir are you prepared for Corris Lee?”

  “Every dog will bo

  w to his Master. He won't bite the hand that feeds him. I been feeding Corris Lee for a long time through Abby.”