Red Rock II Chapter 7:- Showdown at Redemption (A USB story by Rufusluciusivan and Stormtrooper1990)

[Stormtrooper1990]

Warning. This story hints the heavy themes of torture and rape at some point. You won’t find anything graphic or explicit or even ‘on-screen’, it’s only hinted at, but if these themes disturb you please proceed with caution.

Rural Eastern Texas, Saturday 14th November 1884, 22:00pm

Nancy, Clinton, Sand, and Sylvié were camping in the middle of the ditch, careful to conceal their fire. The patch of land in which they were sitting didn’t look much different from western Louisiana but, technically, they were now on Texan soil.

Technically, they were now out of Louisiana’s jurisdiction. Out of Victoria’s and the DeBeers Company’s reach – at least the time for Mr DeBeers to grease enough palms to have them wanted in Texas too. But they intended to buy him a nice one-way ticket to jail before he could do that...

Seated around a campfire, with some alcohol, bread, and Sand’s rattlesnake jerky to fill their stomachs, it was almost easy to forget they were on borrowed time. Tomorrow, they’d reach the Eagle’s Nest. Tomorrow, they’d hopefully find the evidence Brett needed to incriminate DeBeers for his illegal activities and complicity with several outlaw gangs – chiefly of all, McClaine’s in the past and Dunn’s in the present.

But only if they survived the confrontation with Pearl Dunn’s gang.

“All in all, the trip from Lafayette to here was surprisingly uneventful.” Sylvié commented.

“I wouldn’t exactly call that trip ‘uneventful’. Remember Lake Charles, when you ambushed these two girls of Victoria’s posse? What were their names again?”

“Josephine and Alice.”

“A means like any other to throw Victoria off our trail. Plus, you want my honest opinion, love?” Nancy answered. “I don’t think they minded too much that we left them bound, half-naked and pressed against each other in that crate.”

“I heard some pretty… interesting sounds when I passed again next to their crate when we were fleeing. I think they were… ‘busy’…” Sylvié confirmed. “I just hope Victoria wasn’t too hard on them for their failure...”

“And these Company gunwomen you assaulted and left trussed up in a hay cart three days ago?”

“We needed to sabotage the telegram. Make sure DeBeers couldn’t send a warning to Pearl Dunn. Brett has made sure repairing it would take a full week.”

“Ah, the wonders of the bureaucracy...”

The old marshal was indeed ‘following their trail’, as he said to his superiors. Which meant failing to catch them at every opportunity, covering their tracks in each town they passed, and being as unhelpful as possible to fix their sabotage. The only thing he was quick at was rescuing the girls they left trussed up – and even then he waited until they had a head start and made sure to never communicate their depositions to the DeBeers enforcers.

“Okay. But what about the saloon dancers?” Clinton insisted.

On their last stop before the Louisiana-Texas border, in the hotel in which Nancy and her group were staying for the night, they had encountered this small troupe of dancers clad in bright and colorful red-and-black dresses, petticoats, stockings, feathered hats, and shoes. Unfortunately, the dancers were regularly hired by the DeBeers Company for spectacles, so they recognized Nancy, Clinton, Sand, and Sylvié as fugitives. What followed was a chaotic mess. A chaotic mess which ended with the troupe of dancers naked, sedated, bound, gagged, and locked in their inn’s room where they’d spend the whole night; while Nancy, Sylvié, and Sand donned their outfits and performed in their stead to conceal the fact the real troupe had been mugged. Then, they skipped town in the middle of the night, leaving the real dancers to be discovered in the morning. Thankfully, Brett and his men had been the ones rescuing them, and hearing their deposition. Which meant the DeBeers Company wouldn’t hear of it before a couple of days.

“They had recognized us from the Company’s wanted posters. We couldn’t let them warn a DeBeers official.” Nancy objected.

“And impersonating them was necessary?”

“Of course. People would’ve gotten suspicious if their show had been canceled.”

“And don’t act like you didn’t enjoy the sight of Nancy dancing!” Sylvié intervened.

Clinton raised his hands in mock-surrender. “Okay, okay, I give up… One against three, I can’t do anything…”

They all shared a laugh. They had good reasons to feel optimistic. By neutralizing the telegram, they had taken all the necessary steps to make sure DeBeers couldn’t have warned the Eagle’s Nest – assuming he had found out Nancy and her friends knew about it.

However, the looming threat of the upcoming confrontation with Pearl Dunn, and the even more worrisome thought of knowing Victoria was still out there after them, never left their minds.

The laughs were short-lived.

Sylvié gazed upon the distance, at the vast open reaches of Texas. Her face turned solemn. “Our journey is reaching its end…”

Sand wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “It’ll only reach its end when we return to Red Rock, together. And even then, it’ll be the beginning of a different journey. One I intend to make with you, till I die and even beyond that.” She pondered briefly. “My house is a bit small though. I’ll have to think of something.”

Sylvié curled up against her. “I don’t mind the intimacy…”

Nancy and Clinton exchanged a glance. “We’ll take the first shift.” the redhead proposed. “Why don’t you two have some rest?”

**************

Curled up against Sand under the same blanket, Sylvié couldn’t find sleep. Sand – who was being the big spoon – shifted slightly.

“Is something troubling you?”

She felt the caress of Sylvié’s hair on her face when the latter nodded. “That this journey… Our journey has been like an adventure… But tomorrow. Tomorrow, we won’t be leaving girls alive. There will be no room for compassion. They’re outlaws. They’re killers and criminals. I knew from the start it’d be like that. I don’t blame you. I know why you must do this. It’s just...”

“… Just what?”

“I don’t have it in me to end someone’s life.” Sylvié finally confessed. And Sand heard in her voice she was feeling shame.

It broke her heart.

“It’s not something to be ashamed of.” Sand said firmly. “The world is ugly enough as it is. It doesn’t need any more ugliness.” She gazed in the distance. She was struggling with her words – but she wasn’t an asocial Navajo scout anymore. She.would never renounce her heritage, her birth, but she had also spent months with people who had shown her she could be so much more. Nancy, Clinton, Sylvié… She knew what to say. She just needed to figure out how to say it. “You know. It’s strange. My people raised me to respect life, but also to never hesitate at killing someone if I must, because that’s our only way to survive… They’d say… They’d say it’s foolish to not want to end the life of an enemy… They’d say it’s weak… But when I see you… I don’t see weakness… I don’t
see foolishness… I see beauty… beauty like the full Moon shining in the night…” She looked at the night sky. “We couldn’t find our way in the dark… without the Moon…”

Sylvié took a deep breath. “Sand. I- I need you. I need you to make love to me.”

Sand frowned. “You don’t need to ask…”

“I know… It’s silly… But I… felt like asking anyway…” Her voice was faint, almost like a whimper.

Something clicked in Sand’s mind – she was getting better at reading emotions, at least Sylvié’s. Her lover needed comfort tonight. She needed reassurance. Not passionate finger tricks which would send her to the heavens – not this time. Tonight, she needed gentle touches, soft caresses.

Sand gently rolled to move on top of Sylvié. The Moon’s light highlighted her features with a soft glow. Her hands ventured under the French girl’s clothes.

“You can ask me anything...”

Their eyes met, and both knew that the time for words was over. As Sand pulled off her buckskin vest, liberating her supple breasts and stiff nipples. Sylvié eagerly unbuttoned her shirt, stripping it off and tossing it aside before unlacing her sleeveless white lace chemise. She unfolded it to reveal
her small but tender breasts, which Sand gently teased and fondled with her hands and tongue, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from Sylvié. The French girl arced her back in delight, exchanging brief kisses with her Navajo lover and gripping her bare back.

Gently kissing Sylvié's bare slim tummy, Sand ventured south towards the French girl's vagina. The former maid ground her hips in anticipation and giggled as Sand unbuttoned her trousers, quickly pulling them down her long divine legs along with her matching knickers, exposing Sylvié's small and inviting trimmed sex. Sand first gently teased the red folds open with her finger, Sylvié let out gasps of pleasure in response, holding down her Navajo’s head, caressing her black locks.

Then with Sylvié close to an orgasm, Sand inserted her wet tongue into the glistening folds of the former maids labia gently stimulating her sweet spot. Then with a barely contained squeal of delight, Sylvié came into Sand’s mouth, the Navajo giggling as she tasted Sylvié's sweet juices in her mouth.

Gently laughing and slick with sweat, Sand collapsed next to Sylvié kissing her and letting her lick her fingers clean, tasting her own sex. "That...that was incredible, my sweet Sand...Thank you for everything... " Sylvié said breathlessly, straddling her Navajo lover. "You were incredible, my sweet sunrise. And I should be the one thanking you, my shikeyáh. " Sylvié giggled as she unlaced Sand's pants, yanking them off in one quick tug. "Now let me comfort you, my Shining Moon." Sand gasped in delight, feeling Sylvié's tongue tease her breasts…

**************

Nancy smiled when she heard the soft rustles and faint moans coming from under Sand’s blanket. Her two friends were surprisingly quiet tonight – usually they were a lot more passionate. But this night was different from the other ones. They needed comfort tonight, reassurance, not passion. The time
for passion would come back later.

The redhead stood a little farther. Not too far, she still needed to stand watch. But far enough to give them some privacy.

When she felt Clint stand behind her, and wrap his arms around her touching her belly, for the first time in a long time she felt happy; not just for Sand and Sylvié, but for herself and Clint. They had all been through so much together and deserved tonight, Sand most of all.

Nancy leaned into her husband feeling his strong arms encircling reassuringly around her waist.

He gently caressed the small bump on her belly. "So what do you think Mrs O'Hara? Is it a boy or a girl?" He was trying to ease her mind, talking about the future.

Nancy smiled, laying her hand on top of his, touching her belly. "It's a girl. She has a fire inside her. I can feel it."

Clint laid his head on her shoulder. "It could be a boy. Boys have a fire in them too."

It felt so good, knowing she had him. She had Sand and Sylvié as her friends. She’d soon have a child.

But at the same she couldn't help but feel fearful, for them all. The fight against DeBeers was not yet over, they still had to infiltrate the impregnable Eagle's Nest and deal with Pearl Dunn’s gang. And even then they still had to be wary of Victoria. Nancy knew the bounty huntress wouldn’t give up her chase. The woman was inhumanely fast on the draw, some would say supernaturally so. Nancy didn't know how she would beat her when they would inevitably face off and that fact made her afraid. Afraid for her friends, herself and her unborn child.

“You’re not alone.” Clinton whispered in his ear.

Damn! He was getting even better at reading her mood!

Nancy turned to face him, her face grave. "Clint, I'm scared about tomorrow. Scared of losing you, our baby and our friends. What if...we all die."

Clinton shook his head, caressing her face. "Nancy. We WON'T fail, trust me."

Leaning into his touch, Nancy took his hand squeezing it. "You sound so certain, my love. But how do you know?"

She looked into his eyes, the light from the fire making him look even more handsome. "Because I do, honey. Look, we have Sand who’s quicker than a rattlesnake on the draw, and Sylvié with her silver tongue and bag of tricks. And then there's you..." He leant in kissing her on her lips, making her gasp in delight. "...our beautiful leader. Who centers us and serves as a beacon to us all."

Nancy giggled kissing him on the cheek,
feeling all her doubt leave her. "Flatterer." She teased. "It's only because I have you to pick me, dust me off and tell me..."

"...that you're the best damn lawman he's seen on this side of the continent. And the love of his life." He added with a husky voice full of desire.

They sat holding each for a moment, the heat from the fire dancing across their faces. "I love you, Clinton O'Hara."

"I love you too, Nancy O'Hara."

They exchanged another kiss.

Yesterday was history. Tomorrow was a mystery.

But today… was a gift.

The Eagle's Nest, Eastern Texas, Sunday 15th November 1884, 09:00am

The Eagle Nest was an old abandoned fort which had been built during the Texas Revolution. A minor fortified place of little importance, meant to watch the border. Nancy couldn’t even remember which side of the Revolution had actually built the fort, it was that minor. After Texas.became part of the United States, the newly-appointed State thought watching the border with Louisiana was superfluous. Even the American Civil War hadn’t been enough incentive to rebuild it. Supposedly, the place was abandoned and in ruins.

Nancy, Sand, Sylvié, and Clinton were lying on a rock, and observing the Eagle Nest.

Even from afar, they could see the place was neither abandoned nor in ruins.

“How did a bunch of outlaws manage to rebuild the whole fort?” Clinton pondered out loud.

Sand shrugged. “Questions for later. The real question is: How do we get in?”

“Pearl Dunn is a cautious woman. Which means she must have patrols around the fort.” Nancy answered. “We’ll use her caution against her.”

Sand and she shared a nod.

Then Sand gently took Sylvié’s hand. “Stay with Clinton. Please.”

Her French lover paled slightly. She knew why Sand was asking her that. She simply squeezed her hand to give her assent.

**************

All of East Texas had the humid subtropical climate typical of the Southeast. The luxuriant plant life, coupled with rolling hills, offered several places which were perfect for an ambush.

Sand chose a specific ditch, half-obscured by tall grass, and in a blind spot of the Eagle Nest’s walls and towers.

Then, she and Nancy laid in ambush. Both were hunters. They knew how to lie completely still for hours.

Time passed.

Nancy suppressed a grimace. She hadn’t anticipated her slowly-growing belly would become a hindrance so quickly.

Sand glanced at her. “Will you be alright?”

The redhead nodded. “We better end
DeBeers quickly, before I become too bloated to run around.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

Nancy couldn’t tell if it was meant to be a joke or if Sand was being her usual pragmatic self. Now that Sylvié was rubbing off on her, it could be either.

“I’m not looking forward to the last months of the pregnancy.” Nancy confessed. “Clinton is…scared of complications. I think I am too. I can’t wait to see our child’s face. If it weren’t for that bastard DeBeers and his games, I’d wish they were already here. I want them to come into a world where they’ll be safe.”

“I’ll make sure of that.” Sand blurted out reflexively. “We’ll make sure of that.”

Nancy smiled faintly.

Then, her friend suddenly added: “I’ll also help you afterwards.”

“Afterwards?”

“When your baby is here. I’ll help you protect them. I’ll… help you watch them.”

“I wouldn’t trust anyone more than you around my child.” Nancy said earnestly. Then she added as a joke: “Well, except Clint of course. But I’m being biased.”

It was Sand’s turn to smile. However, before she could answer, she heard a faint noise.

Ultimately, their patience had been rewarded. Voices were getting closer.

Nancy and Sand crouched into the tall grasses, completely hiding their frames.

The patrol was a pair of gunslingers.

The man was a typical outlaw – crude, violent, and disgusting – but the young woman… Nancy found her unnerving.

Though not because of her physical appearance. The outlaw was in her late twenties, with slightly tanned skin, and brown hair tied up into a ponytail. Her outfit was the typical rugged garments of outdoor criminals – brown boots, dark blue jeans, black poncho over a red shirt, and brown Stetson
hat.

No. It was something in her grey eyes – empty, unblinking. Yes, the woman was the biggest threat.

Nancy made a few hand signs to tell Sand to wait for her move. Her friend nodded.

They sneaked towards the pair, using the cover of the tall grasses.

Nancy would use the female outlaw’s intense concentration against her. She took a coin, and tossed it on a rock nearby.

As expected, the female outlaw turned when she heard the noise, her gun already at hand.

“Beth, what the fuck?!” her partner exclaimed.

Those were his last words. Nancy’s knife found itself embedded in his throat. A flawless throw. She didn’t need to avoid blood with that one – his clothes were too big even for Clint.

The female outlaw was good – she didn’t waste time looking at her dying partner crumble into the grass. Quite the contrary, she immediately calculated the knife’s trajectory, and turned to shoot at Nancy.

But it also gave Sand an opening. The woman had turned her back on her. The young Navajo jumped out of her hideout, wrapped her arms around the outlaw’s neck, and snapped it without any hesitation.

She dropped the limp body on the ground.
Nancy took her knife, and wiped the blood on the blade with the dead man’s shirt.

They quickly dragged the corpses out of sight into the ditch. They rolled the man out of the way,.and stripped the dead woman of her clothes. The girl was topless under her shirt. She only wore plain grey underdrawers.

When she got a better look at the girl’s body, Nancy cursed between her teeth. “The fuck?!”

The woman’s back was striped with symmetrical scars – knife cuts, most likely. Her breasts were mutilated too. Her left shoulder had been branded, like with cattle. The letters PD. ‘Pearl Dunn’, Nancy wagered.

“She didn’t do that herself.” Sand commented.

Nancy nodded. In her mind, pieces of the puzzle were being assembled. The scars. The brand. The empty eyes. She was beginning to suspect why Brett wanted Pearl Dunn dead without a trial. Nancy nodded sadly to herself. “Uncle Wade used to tell me stories. About soldiers who were broken by the war and returned home changed. The Hollow Men he called them, nothing left of the men they once were. Just dead inside.” She refrained from a shiver of disgust. “Sand…” she whispered. “Whatever happens, don’t let Sylvié fall into their hands.”

“I won’t let these bastards rape her!”

“I fear they may do even worse. We can’t let them. At all costs. Even death is better than what they have in store.”

Sand looked one last time at the scars, then nodded grimly.

Nancy stripped off her travel clothes, and put on the outlaw’s outfit, then they concealed the corpse in the ditch, and returned to Clint and Sylvié.

Sylvié’s face was grim, but she didn’t comment on Nancy’s new outfit. Clinton’s face was grim too, but that was because he swore he could see the small bulge on Nancy’s belly.

No words were exchanged. They weren’t required.

09:30am

For the next step, their team needed to enter the Eagle Nest proper.

They were careful when approaching the building, using the grass and the hollows to conceal themselves. With the patrol out of the way, they had a bit more leeway to navigate from one hiding spot to another. They were careful to wait until the sentries of the fort weren’t looking in their direction.

Pearl Dunn was indeed a cautious woman. The watchtowers were manned by one sentry each. However, while Dunn had been able to restore the fort, she hadn’t been able to improve its architecture. There were several blind spots at the bottom of the walls and in the angles between the walls and the towers they could use to escape the watchers’ lines of sight.

Of course, those blind spots hadn’t been deemed a potential threat because the walls were smooth and hard to climb.

Of course, the people deeming those blind spots ‘not a threat’ and those walls ‘impossible to climb’ didn’t know Sand.

The watchtower they intended to infiltrate was manned by a woman. Another young female outlaw, with shallow cheekbones, short dark blonde hair, and icy blue eyes. She was wearing a black poncho over a red shirt, a brown hat, a black neckscarf, blue trousers, and brown boots.

Sand stretched her fingers, and wrapped a rope around her stomach.

“I can’t go with you.” Nancy said with a hand on her womb.

“Shouldn’t be a problem. Lure her when I’m in position.”

Sand began to climb the watchtower, moving swiftly and silently, until she was perched on top of the roof – but using said roof to conceal herself from the other sentries. She readied her skinning knife, and grabbed it between her teeth.

She raised one hand.

On cue, Nancy stepped in the poncho’s line of sight, and waved at her.

The sentry approached the low wall of the platform. “You have a problem, Beth?”

Sand landed behind her from the roof, and plunged her small skinning knife into her neck. The woman didn’t even feel anything. Sand eased the corpse’s fall, and laid her on the floor of the tower.

“No problem at all.” Nancy said.

Sand tied a rope, and threw it to her friends. Nancy, Clinton, and Sylvié used it to climb the tower, using the angle of the building to escape the vigilance of the other sentries.

At the same time, Sand stripped the dead outlaw of her clothes and weapons. Her clothes would go to Sylvié, as Sand could more easily sneak into the place without a disguise. She stopped once the blonde was left her clad in white shorts. She then rolled her body and concealed it behind the small wall of the watchtower’s platform. Getting a better look at the half-naked girl, Sand frowned. That one was topless too. And on her back, breasts, and shoulders there were the same scars and cattle brand.

Nancy got on the platform first, followed by Clinton. Sylvié was the last one to climb. Clinton helped her. Sylvié was looking a lot paler than usual.

When she saw the body, she couldn’t refrain from gasping.

“I made it quick. She didn’t suffer.” Sand said.

But Sylvié was looking at the scars and the brand. “Poor girl… Who… Who could do that to her?”

“People who won’t see another day.” Nancy answered grimly.

Sylvié’s hands were shaking a little. “So this is what… this is what evil looks like…” She had a hard time focusing on stripping herself and putting on her disguise, so Sand helped her. Her touch was gentle.

Once she was clad in her new outfit, they finally focused on the inner-part of the fort.

09:45am

From the watch tower, they had a good view on the courtyard. They could use the platform’s small wall to conceal themselves. Only Sylvié was standing up.

Unfortunately, the place was currently filled with people.

Pearl Dunn herself was standing in the center of the courtyard. She was holding a rifle.

“So this is her.” Nancy commented, recognizing her from a wanted poster Brett had showed her.

Pearl Dunn was a woman well into her thirties – which made her quite old for an outlaw – but even one decade of a rugged life hadn’t been able to spoil her looks. Sure, her haircut was a drab ponytail. Sure, there were some wrinkles around her green eyes, and a few strands of grey in her brown hair. But she still had the kind of mature beauty a lot of men would find desirable.

That was, had there not been this sadistic smile on her lips.

Two of Pearl’s men were forcefully escorting a middle-aged woman, whose hands were bound behind her back. The prisoner was wearing practical clothes – the kind which workers used when they were on a building site.

Clinton angrily bit his lower lip. “Now we know how they managed to rebuild the fort...”

“The bastards kidnapped people and made them slaves…” Nancy muttered through gritted teeth. Her eyes were burning with murderous intent.

“We’ll find a way to rescue them.” Clinton said softly, easing her anger a bit.

He was interrupted when another gang member entered the courtyard, dragging a younger girl by the arm.

Nancy recognized the older outlaw from Brett’s descriptions. She was Beatrice Smith. Pearl Dunn’s second-in-command. Half-Comanche, half-Caucasian. Her coarse braided black hair, dark skin, and deep brown eyes were all clear proof of her Comanche ancestry. She was wearing a dull brown coat, a blue shirt, a rugged black hat, light brown chaps, and dark brown boots. A blood red scarf was tied around her neck.

The young woman Nancy didn’t know her. However, that one was clearly a new addition – and she barely looked older than twenty. The girl was lanky, with the tanned skin of peasant girls, medium brown hair, blue watery eyes, shallow cheekbones, and a gap between her two upper front teeth.
Her gaunt face, long neck, and hook nose gave her a vulture-like appearance. Her clothes were clearly baggy and too big for her.

Pearl glanced at the girl. “Alright Sally, time to pay your rent.”

The young outlaw winced and gulped.

“Unless you want to do what your useless brother did and try running away. I’ll be generous and give you a ten second head start.” Pearl added, cocking her rifle.

“What do you… what do you want…?”

Pearl’s slap echoed loudly. “Where are your manners, cunt?!”

“B- Boss… What do you want… boss?”

“Simple. I want you on the next heist. But before that, I have to make sure you have the guts.” She put the rifle into Sally’s hands, and mentioned the prisoner. “Shoot her.”

The middle-aged worker cried, but one man holding her punched her hard in the stomach to silence her.

Clinton had to physically restrain Nancy from exposing herself and starting shooting. “We can’t win a firefight against the whole band. Not without a plan.” She could hear in his voice he was refraining chokes of pure rage – his powerlessness filled him with the same murderous rage as Nancy. That was probably what calmed her. Clinton had always been the level-headed one. Him losing his composure like that was a proof of intense distress.

In the courtyard, Sally blinked. “Ki- Kill her?”

“Your keen eyes are the only reason I didn’t give you to the men when your brother brought you here. But I’m not training you to shoot at targets! I want you to kill that bitch!”

Sally whined and sniffed. “I just- I just couldn’t pay the landlord-”

“WHO CARES ABOUT YOUR REASONS?! WHEN I SAY SHOOT, YOU SHOOT!”

Sally took several breaths, and attempted to aim. However, her hands and legs were shaking too much.

Ultimately, she didn’t have it in her.

She dropped the rifle. “I- I can’t…”

Pearl back-handed her with enough strength to cut her lip and draw blood, sending her crashing onto the ground. “You useless CUNT!” She picked up the rifle, and shot the unfortunate prisoner in the head.

Sally yelped when the corpse hit the ground.

“Throw that in the trash!” Pearl instructed her men about the dead woman. Then she grabbed Sally by the hair. She ignored the young outlaw’s sobs and hiccups. “And as for you… I have no use for a weakling! If you don’t want to be a fighter, then you’ll at least pleasure my real fighters!” She forced Sally to get on her feet, and threw her in the arms of her second-in-command. “Beatrice! Let the boys have their way with her!”

“Got it boss.”

“You have my permission to go first. I know you like them young and skinny. Bet she’s still a virgin too.”

“Thank you, boss.”

Pearl smiled. “Anything for my best girl.” She playfully fidgeted with a knife. “Break her, and break her well. Then I can start rebuilding her.”

**************

Sitting with her back against the small wall of the watchtower’s platform, Sylvié was resisting a powerful urge to throw up. “I’m gonna be sick…”

Sand wrapped her arms around her to comfort her.

Nancy’s fists were clenched so hard, her nails were almost drawing blood on her own palms. “So that’s how they do it… That bitch… she’s going down.”

“She will. But right now Dunn is too exposed. We begin with Beatrice.” Clinton intervened.

Nancy looked at him.

Clinton mentioned Pearl’s second-in-command, who was dragging Sally behind her. “She’ll want some privacy. And she’s Sand’s size.”

And suddenly, Nancy found herself smiling. But that smile was a promise of death.

09:56am

Beatrice allowed her two favorite gang members, two strong burly men, to come with her – provided she’d be the first to have her way with Sally. They went to a quiet secluded backyard of the fort. There were stables in a corner, with some haystacks and a storage
shack.

She threw Sally onto the ground.

The trio ignored the girl’s pleas and sobs.

“Stop whining. Take it like a woman.” Beatrice sneered.

Sally tried to crawl away.

Beatrice grabbed her, and pinned her onto the ground.

“Not so fast.”

She began to forcefully remove the young woman’s clothes.

“Hey, Beatrice! Don’t take too much time! I want a piece of her too!” one man exclaimed.

The half-Comanche outlaw grinned, but didn’t bother to look at him.

“I know you like to watch, Paul.”

“Sure do.”

Those were Paul’s last words.

A knife found itself embedded in this throat.

His partner didn’t fare any better. He too received a knife to the throat for his trouble.

From the roof of one stable, Nancy and Clinton shared a nod. Their knife throws had been perfectly synchronized.

The two dead outlaws fell onto the ground.

Beatrice finally noticed something was off. She threw Sally away, and got up. She turned to stare at her dead comrades. “What the-”

The end of her sentence was drowned out.

Sand had jumped from the roof of the storage shed, rushed towards her prey, and was now using her tomahawk to strangle Beatrice.

“A true Comanche warrior would’ve heard us.” the young Navajo spat.

Beatrice gurgled.

Sand squeezed harder, her teeth clenched because of her rage. She didn’t flinch when the windpipe was crushed with a sickening sound.

Dressed in only her small clothes – stained grey chemise and underdrawers – Sally gasped in utter terror, and crawled away to take her clothes, which were still lying on the ground.

Nancy grabbed the coat before she could catch it.

Sally cried, and curled up on herself.

Sand let her friend deal with the situation. She dropped Beatrice onto the ground, and began stripping the corpse of her clothes. Clinton searched the two dead outlaws, grabbing their guns and ammo. Sylvié stood in a corner, looking pale and a bit sick.

Nancy towered over Sally. She didn’t have much sympathy for the girl – Sally’s weakness didn’t endear her to Nancy. Deducing the girl’s life story was quite easy – probably ran away from the law for some minor crime, got mixed up with Pearl’s gang, and was too much of a coward to run away.

Not everyone can be strong. She remembered both her father and her uncle had sometimes told her that. Don’t scorn weak people too much. Not everyone can be strong.

Nancy remembered the scars, the mutilations, the brand on the other girls. Few people would have the mental fortitude to overcome such horror. Sally wasn’t lost yet – she still had enough decency to refuse to kill. That got to count for something. Plus she could be useful now that she knew she’d be
raped if she stayed in the gang. Nancy refrained from killing her.

Rescuing the slaves was more important.

Nancy took a knee, and made the effort to talk with a normal voice. “The prisoners. You know where they are kept, right?”

“Y- Yes…”

“You’ll lead Clint and Sylvié there. Do it, and we’ll let you live. We may even give you a head start.”

Sally stammered. In her eyes, Nancy saw boundless fear. Still, she gave the young woman a fair warning: “I sometimes give people a second chance. But never a third one.”

“P- Pearl… Pearl will-”

“She won’t reach you. Not after I’m done with her. She won’t reach any other girl.”

Sally looked at Nancy’s face – and saw the redhead’s uncompromising confidence. Then some dam in her broke, and she choked a few sobs. But those weren’t cries of fear. They expressed months of pent-up rage, frustration, and powerlessness. Nancy could only picture what that girl had been through, having been dragged by circumstances into that gang, seeing the ones failing to meet Pearl’s expectations broken, living each day in terror at the thought of being next.

Then Sally looked over Nancy’s shoulder. She saw Sand stripping the dead Beatrice of her clothes and underclothes. For one split second, her face betrayed a grim satisfaction.

“I- I’ll do it.”

Nancy nodded. “Put your clothes back on. We need you to still look like you’re part of the gang.”

**************

Sand slipped into Beatrice’s clothes, and used the coat, hat and scarf to obscure her facial features. Then, Clinton dragged the corpses of Beatrice and her two cronies inside one stable to conceal them. Beatrice was naked. Her well rounded pert breasts with puffy dark brown areolas and full clean-shaved womanhood on full display.

In a corner of the courtyard, Sally was putting her clothes back on. Nancy was watching her. She trusted her intuition – she didn’t think Sally would betray them. But one was never too cautious.

Sylvié was waiting nearby.

Sand went to her. “You’re okay, my love?”

Sylvié glanced at the dead corpse of Beatrice. “I feel bad... because I don’t feel bad.”

“Scum like her don’t deserve pity.”

“You should focus on the people you can save.” Clinton advised her.

Sylvié took a breath, and nodded. “You’re right.”

Nancy glanced at her friends. “So we now all have disguises. What’s the next step?”

“I suppose the gang has powder and dynamite.” Clinton asked Sally.

The young woman nodded shakily.

“Then I have a plan.” Clinton explained: “With Sylvié’s disguise and Sally’s help, I can deal with the sentries guarding the slaves. Once we’ve released the prisoners, Sylvié and I will grab the dynamite. Then we’ll blow up this fort. Should deal with most of the gang, and send the rest of them running away.”

Nancy nodded and deduced the rest: “In the meantime, Sand and I will search the commander’s office. Pearl must be storing the documents there.”

“You have thirty minutes.”

“It’ll be more than enough.”

Sylvié put a hand on Sally’s shoulder. “I have some laudanum on me. If there are other girls like you, I can use it on them.”

Sally shook her head. “I… I’m the only one left… Pearl said the gang needed to raid another village… so-” Then the realization dawned upon her. She shivered. “God… I’m the only one left…”

Sylvié pressed her shoulder sympathetically.

Nancy’s face didn’t betray any emotion.“Clint.”

“Yes?”

“The small fishes, I can bear them running away. But I won’t allow Pearl Dunn to live another day.”

The Eagle's Nest Prison, 10:06am

They didn’t waste much time with good-byes. One quick hug, one quick kiss, and the two groups split up.

Sally was leading the way for Clinton’s group. Her intrinsic knowledge of the fort proved
invaluable to navigate around the sentries. On their way, she showed them the path to the powder magazine.

“The prison first.” Clinton said.

The prisoners were locked in the old fort’s jail. Since most of the fort had been restored by now, Pearl didn’t have much use for them anymore – save for the good-looking women. She had the kidnapped people stashed there, until she decided what to do with them. The walls were thick, the door was made of solid steel. Only one outlaw was needed to stand watch.

One outlaw didn’t stand a chance against Clinton. Soon, his corpse was concealed behind the building.

“Now get their attention discreetly.” Clinton instructed Sally.

The young woman nodded, her face pale but determined. She opened the peephole of the prison door. “Joshua?” she whisper-called.

A man in his forties looked through the small window.

“What do you want, Sally?” He sounded wary, but not scared or hostile. Clearly, the prisoners didn’t think of Sally as a threat. To Clinton, that alone was proof Nancy had been right to give the young outlaw a second chance.

“We’re breaking you out.” he intervened.

Thankfully, Joshua had strong nerves. He hadn’t been chosen by the prisoners as their unofficial leader for nothing. He didn’t waste time with pointless questions. “How?”

Clinton began to unlock the door. “You’ll go with Sally. She’ll take you to the stables. You’ll steal the horses to escape.”

“What about you?”

Clinton grinned harshly. “Don’t you remember the plan? We’ll provide the fireworks to distract Pearl and her gang.”

The Eagle's Nest Interior, 10:10am

On their way to the commander’s office, Nancy and Sand were careful to eliminate the few sentries in-between the stables and the prison. They were quick and merciless – a couple of bodies were stashed in barrels.

The commander’s office was empty – Pearl was apparently still busy in the main courtyard. It suited the two intruders. Of course, they wouldn’t have minded ending the life of Dunn or another of her outlaws here, but they preferred to secure the evidence first.

For a crude outlaw chief, Dunn was surprisingly orderly with her stuff. The office was the tidiest, cleanest place of the fort. All papers were meticulously organized.

“Thanks a lot, Pearl.” Nancy commented. “Makes our work easier.”

Since Sand didn’t know how to read, she watched the surroundings while Nancy searched the desk.

Nancy held down her breath when she saw the pile of rugged yellow-ish envelopes.

Could it be so easy?

Yes it could.

There they were.

The letters.

Dunn was a notoriously infamous outlaw. DeBeers didn’t trust anyone but himself to write to her. Dunn was also smart enough to secure some leverage against DeBeers should he ever think of double-crossing her – she had kept all of Maximilian’s letters.

Unfortunately for him, it meant Dunn’s instructions had his writing.

Nancy smiled harshly.

Finally, after these wild goose chases at the Van der Laar Estate and the DeBeers Chateau… She finally had what she had been looking for.

“Got you.”

The Eagle's Nest Powder Store, 10:16am


“Are we sure we can trust that girl, Sally, Clinton? She couldn’t get out fast enough with the prisoners.” Sylvié asked as she stood watch, peeking through the crack in the powder magazine's door.

“She speaks!” Clinton said while looking up from rigging the fuse on the fort's powder store. His expression then turned sincere as he saw the thin smile on the French girl's lips. “You had me worried for a minute Sylvié. You've not spoken much since we've arrived.”

The cute brunette sighed. “Apologies, mon ami. It's just this place has left its mark on me. Back in New York, repairing Eleanor's doilies I couldn't have imagined that such evil exists in the world.” She looked weary for a second, for a moment Clinton thought she looked a decade older.

With the fuse set, Clinton took out his matches. “You don't regret following us or Sand, do you? She thinks the world of you now.”

Sylvié turned to face him with a determined smile on her beautiful face. “Non…” She shook her head. “...not for one second. With you, Nancy and my sweet Sand I have found my place, a family that I have never known. You've all been good to me, Clinton, and I want to return to Red Rock, to be with my Sand. If you'll have me of course?”

Clinton patted her on the back. “I don't think that was even up for debate, Sylvié. We'll be lucky to have you.”

Sylvié giggled before taking the matches from him and striking one.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I can do this if you don't want this on your conscience.” Clinton asked as Sylvié watched the flame from the match dance before her big blue eyes. Sylvié nodded.

“My conscience is already clear, mon ami. I won’t have any innocent blood on it. These ‘people’ have brought it upon themselves. Besides, if my friends and my love have the courage to fight evil and injustice
then how could I do any less…” with that she dropped the match onto the fuse.

“Alright, this is the part we run for cover!” Clinton shouted, taking Sylvié by the hand and dashing from the powder store back outside.

The Eagle’s Nest Courtyard, 10:21am

In the main courtyard, one of Beatrice’s lieutenants suddenly ran to his boss. “Boss! Prison is empty!”

“Empty?!”

“There’s no one inside, and-”

“I know what empty means, dumb shit! Why didn’t anyone spot them?! Where are the sentries?!”

“They’re not responding.”

“Shit! We have rats inside our walls! Gather the others! Where the fuck is Beatrice?! She’s been gone for too long!” Pearl Dunn roared as her lieutenants, three women and two men surrounded her in the courtyard of the fort.

“Perhaps Beatrice and her guys are taking their time, Hefá? You know how much she likes them young and white.” Replied Maria Alvarez, a young beautiful but psychotic outlaw from Mexico.

Pearl rounded on her. “Or perhaps the intruders have gotten to her, you dumb greaser! Fan out and fi-”

Suddenly she and her lieutenants were sending sprawling to the dirt, as a loud explosion behind them tore through the fort.

The effect was immediate and destructive; outlaws were blown over the walls, while others fell screaming as they were crushed beneath falling stone and masonry, the very walls they were standing on giving way. Those men and women lucky enough to survive the blast, covered in brick dust, simply dropped their weapons and either ran for the hills or jumped on the nearest horses.

With her ears ringing from the deafening blast, Pearl and her lieutenants rose from the dirt.

“W-what the fuck was that!?” She coughed looking around at her lieutenants. “M-my fort?! Who the fuck blew up my god-damned fort!? I will make them pay!” Out of the corner of her eye, Pearl saw Beatrice and Beth run towards her, clutching their Winchesters. “About damn time!” she complained.

“Look over there, boss! We've got some stragglers!” Pointed One-eyed Ira, an ugly sonofabitch with a pockmarked face and eyepatch covering his left eye socket, Pearl having gouged it out with a red hot poker herself.

Pearl followed his finger, seeing a handsome dark haired man and a pretty young brunette girl that she could have sworn was wearing the clothes of one of her perimeter sentries, rise from the low wall opposite the ruins of the powder store. Her brow furrowed. “They don't look like any of ours. But these must be the bastards who are fucking with us. Maria, your repeater…” Her Mexican lieutenant unslung her Henry rifle from her shoulder and tossed it to her boss.

Smiling, Pearl brought the rifle to her shoulder, sighting the man. “I'm going to teach that prick not to fuck with Pearl Dunn, but the pretty girl, she's mine. I've got plans for her…”

**************
“Whoo-wee!” Clinton whooped, patting Sylvié on the back. “That blew up real good!”

The French girl giggled in reply. “Do you think we used enough explosives?”

Clinton shrugged. “When it comes to outlaws, there's no such thing as too much. Come on, let's get back to-argh!”

There was a snap thunder clap from behind them, and Clinton cried in pain as the round from Pearl's repeater sent him careering into Sylvié knocking them both down.

“Clinton!” Sylvié cried, dragging the screaming man into cover.

“Ah! God damn it that hurts!” Clinton cried as Sylvié reacted quickly, putting pressure on the
wound.

“Just stay down, mon ami!!” Sylvié shouted, not daring to stick her head over the wall.

**************


“Clinton!! No, that's my husband you bitch!!” Nancy yelled seeing Clint fall on top of Sylvié, bringing up her Winchester to her shoulder and sighting Pearl Dunn.

“Wait! You're not Beth-Argh!!”

Nancy didn't give her a chance to raise her rifle, she fired sending a .358 round straight into her chest bringing the outlaw to her knees before pumping the lever action.

Then in a feat of marksmanship that would have made Wyatt Earp proud, Nancy killed Maria, Ira and another male lieutenant with successive headshots before they could even draw. While Sand killed the two remaining outlaws with practiced headshots from her repeater. Within a minute, only Pearl Dunn dying from a sucking chest wound was still breathing. With a look of rage, Nancy pulled out her revolver and stalked towards the wounded woman.

On her knees, clutching her bloody chest Pearl could see the two women were not Beatrice or Beth.

“W-who the f-fuck are you two, cunt?”

She coughed looking up as the pretty freckled redhead wearing Beth's clothes drew her revolver,pointing it at her forehead, point blank.

“I'm Sheriff Nancy O'Hara of the state of Arizona. And I'm your death….” She cocked her revolver.“...Marshall Stockton sends his regards.”

Then with a flash of Nancy's revolver, Pearl Dunn’s head snapped back. She didn't feel nor hear the bullet that killed her, just the curious sensation of the ground rushing up to meet her. Then the distinct sound of vultures screeching as they circled above her.

Leaving Sand to remove Pearl's family ring from her finger to prove her death, Nancy rushed up to the low wall where Clinton and Sylvié were hunkered down. “Oh my God Clinton! You're alive!” She breathed a sigh of relief, covering her mouth as Sylvié came over the wall, with a wounded Clinton leaning on her shoulder. There were tears of joy in the redhead's eyes as she rushed over. “I'm alright, Nance. It takes more than some two bit outlaw bitch to kill me. She wasn’t even a good shot-mmph!”

Nancy didn’t even give her husband a chance to finish before passionately kissing him, Sylvié giggled at the kiss. Nancy pulled out breathing heavily. “When I saw you go down, Clint. I thought that I lost you. That our child would grow up without a father!” She choked.

Clinton laughed, wincing from the pain. “Thank Sylvié here. If it wasn't for her quick thinking…”

Nancy turned to the French girl. “Thank you, my dear friend.” She said hugging the former maid.

“Don't mention it. Nancy. We're family and we look out for each other, mes ami.” She then turned to Clinton. “I'll need to get a look at that, before it gets infected.”

“What for that little chicken scratch? I've been hurt worse in bed!” Laughed Sand tossing Pearl's ring to Nancy. “My dusky native!” Sylvié squealed in delight running into her Navajo lover's arms.

“My sweet Sunrise!” Sand replied, spinning her around and kissing her passionately on the lips, Sylvié wrapping her legs around her.

Clinton leaning on his wife's shoulder chuckled despite his pain. “Leave it to Sand to make a shoulder wound sound trivial.”

Pulling out of Sylvié’s embrace with a smack of lips, Sand flashed a grin. “What can I say? My sweet sunrise has…rubbed off on me.” Sylvié giggled, rubbing her lover's nose with hers. “I would say more than a little, no?”

Nancy smiled, it was good to see her best friend so happy. “Come my friends, let's leave Pearl and her gang as food for the vultures. We need to get to Redemption while we still have the light. Uncle Brett will be expecting us.”

Silhouetted by the billowing black smoke from the Eagle's Nest behind them; Nancy, Clinton, Sand and Sylvié rode west towards the abandoned town of Redemption and to a fateful meeting.

[Stormtrooper1990]

Redemption, Eastern Texas, 11:40am

Redemption was a ghost town like many others. Derelict wooden buildings, empty streets, eerily silent. Nancy didn’t know when or why it had been built. Neither did she know when or why it had been abandoned. She knew the town had had a second life a couple of years ago, when a gang of outlaws had turned it into their base of operation, but that had been short-lived.

It was also the place where Brett had instructed Nancy to meet up with him. Nancy, Sand, Sylvié, and Clinton were resting in the abandoned saloon – ironically the building which was the most intact. Clinton’s injury wasn’t life-threatening, but still heavy enough to require healing. Thankfully, with the content of Quinn’s bag, Sylvié had the medical supplies she needed to nurse him back to health.

Clinton was bandaged, but out of danger. He was sitting with his back against the wall. Sylvié and Sand were huddled nearby.

Nancy was pacing back and forth.

“Brett should be here soon. I’ll feel more at ease when his party is with us. Some outlaws of Pearl’s gang are probably still out there.”

Nancy raised her head when she heard a cavalcade. Riders were galloping into the town.

Dunn’s gang didn’t have horses anymore – Sally and the prisoners had stolen them.

“Must be Brett.”

The group of riders stopped in front of the saloon.

Nancy looked through the broken window.

Her joy turned to despair.

The horsemen were horsewomen.
And their leader wasn’t Brett.

It was Victoria.

**************

Victoria jumped from her black steed, followed by the other girls of her hunting posse. Her eyes were glimmering, and her smile looked too wide for her face.

“So. You prefer to come outside and face me like real gunslingers?” she called out loud. “Or should I set the building on fire, and smoke you out like the rats you are?”

Nancy and Sand exited the building together.

Victoria glared at them. “Where are the others?”

“Dead.” Nancy lied. “Dunn got them.”

The bounty huntress chuckled. “Right. I’ll trust your word at face value then.” she mocked.

“How did you find us?”

Victoria tilted her head to the side. “Brett asked you to meet him here, didn’t he?”

“How do you know?”

“Now that’s a fun story. Remember his biggest success? How he busted Indio’s gang? It was here. I was with him.” Victoria was fidgeting with her pocket watch – Brett’s pocket watch. “Good old Redemption… This place is very important to Brett. I suspected he’d use it the second I figured out he sent you to the Nest. The old man has many qualities, but he’s hopelessly nostalgic. Guess I am too, in a way. I remember how I sneaked inside the town. I remember the shooting. Never felt so alive. He gave me his pocket watch after the fight – a gift for my services.” Her gaze embraced the buildings of Redemption with something resembling nostalgia.

Then, suddenly, Victoria dropped the pocket watch, and crushed it under her heel.

“After I kill you, I’ll burn this whole place to the ground.”

“Your warrant has no value here. We’re not wanted in Texas. Not yet at least.” Nancy retorted. “This doesn’t have to end in blood. I’m giving you one chance, Victoria. One way out. Leave now. Go back to your family.”

The bounty hunter’s eyes glimmered with cold murderous rage. “What’s the matter? Scared?”

“Brett is on his way. Maybe he’s already here. You really think you can get away with killing us in plain view and stealing the evidence?”

Her words didn’t have any effect on Victoria, but she was hoping she could sway her posse. She saw most of the girls were uneasy. Some were exchanging discreet glances.

“It won’t take much time, trust me.” Victoria commented softly.

Her fingers caressed the cross of her gun. There was a dangerous-looking glimmer in her eyes.

A gunslinger – Ethel – put a hand on Victoria’s shoulder. “If the marshal sees us… It would reflect poorly on the Company… Maximilian doesn’t want you to-”

Victoria drew her gun, her hand as quick as a rattlesnake, and shot Ethel point blank in the chest. The ensuing silence was deafening. Then the corpse fell onto the ground with a dull thud.

“I don’t care about the rich prick! I’m not his dog! I’m nobody’s dog!!” The bounty hunter glanced at the rest of her group. “Does anyone else have a problem with that?!”

The armed women exchanged nervous looks, but none was brave enough to do anything.

Victoria then glared at Nancy. “Would you look at that? I just shot someone in cold blood. Aren’t you going to arrest me, sheriff?”

Nancy glared back. “Fine then. We’ll do it your way.”

Sand walked next to her friend. “She’s faster than you.” the young native whispered.

“I know. What about you?” Nancy whispered back.

“I… don’t know.” Her admission finished convincing Nancy the fight would be difficult. However, then Sand added: “Let’s find out. Do you have a plan?”

“I think...” Nancy called out her foe. “Say, Victoria, why don’t we do it the old fashioned way? When the midday bell stops ringing?”

The bounty hunter grinned from ear to ear. “Now you’re speaking my language.” She wasn’t scared. She had the number advantage. She could humor Nancy.

“Good. Send your cronies away.”

“If you do the same.”

“Of course.”

Nancy exchanged a glance with Sand. They had understood each other.

“Make way!” Victoria ordered her posse.

Too terrified of her to stand up, still shocked by the scene of her gratuitously shooting one of them, they complied.

**************

Sand moved to a nearby alleyway of the deserted town.

Broken Nose was a fool if she thought Sand wouldn’t help her friend… From here, she had Victoria in her line of sight.

But she’d respect Nancy’s wish – her friend wanted a fair fight, it’d be a fair fight. Sand wouldn’t snipe Victoria like some common thug. She’d wait for the twelfth ringing of the bell. Victoria would have her chance to draw.

Nancy had silently put her life in Sand’s hands. She knew Victoria was a better gunslinger than her. She played the part of the decoy. The one doing the real shooting would be Sand...

Victoria was erratic. She made Sand think of those rabid animals, rendered mad by exhaustion or hunger. The bounty hunter hadn’t understood the implication. Her duel wasn’t against Nancy. It was against Nancy AND Sand.

Victoria wanted to see how she’d fare against a Navajo? She was about to discover it!

Sand froze when she heard the click of a rifle behind her, in her back.

“Let’s make sure you don’t interfere, shall we?” Mary commented.

Sand’s hands clenched. Her attention was so focused on Nancy, her mind so worried for her friend, she had forgotten to check her surroundings. How could she, a Navajo scout, have made such a mistake?

“We’ll see how the duel plays until the end. And then, you’ll join your friend in the other world.”

11:45am

Sylvié was hiding in the abandoned saloon with Clinton, but she was observing everything through the planks. She saw Nancy’s and Sand’s plan – using Victoria’s pride and anger against her to nullify her number advantage. Quite clever. And with some luck Brett would arrive before the duel was over.

However, her heart froze when she saw Victoria’s second-in-command sneak behind Sand. Under normal circumstances, her Indian lover may have sensed the trick. But today, her mind was entirely focused on Nancy. And now, Mary was in her back, gun at hand.

With Clinton’s arm wounded, Sylvié was the only one who could save her lover and her friend!

Clinton saw her gather her laudanum, chloroform, and syringe. “Be careful.” He whispered.

“I will.”

The French former maid grabbed her doctor bag, and exited the barn through the back. She intended to sneak behind Mary.

However, on her way, the rest of Victoria’s crew was waiting – blocking her path.

Sylvié noticed the girls were exchanging sullen murmurs. It seemed that outside of Mary, Victoria’s minions were questioning their allegiance.

‘Red Face’ Jenny was the first to spot her. She drew her gun. “Freeze! You’re under arrest!”

Such naivety, Sylvié thought. The redhead still thought she was on the side of the law. Or maybe she was just trying to convince herself she was.

The French girl knew it was her moment. All or nothing. Winner takes all.

Sylvié wasn’t a fighter. She wasn’t a gunslinger. Her best weapons were her wits and her silver tongue. So she used them.

“Haven’t you heard Nancy? Marshal Stockton is on his way. You want him to find you like this? You should just return to the estate, help Elizabeth.”

The girls exchanged a few wary glances and murmurs. Jenny’s gun shook briefly in her hands.

Sylvié spotted Alice and Josephine – the two lovebirds – among the group. She glared at them.

“I know how things are. You were born women in a world expecting you to be servants. Servants of your fathers, then servants of your husbands. Then you heard of the Van der Laar Estate, this safe haven where women were free to dress as men, free to earn their due like men, and free to use guns like men. So you went there, and you were mesmerized by Victoria. By her personality, by her talents, by her confidence. You thought to yourselves: ‘What a strong woman!’ But the truth is, Elizabeth has always been the strong one. Victoria is weak and small, not of body but of mind, and right now her mind is slipping.”

Sylvié paused, then took her best shot:

“Victoria just killed one of yours. You want to risk your lives for her?” She looked Alice in the eyes, then mentioned Josephine with her chin. “You want to risk HER life?”

The blonde gunslinger bit her lower lip, then took the hand of her lover. “Let’s leave.” Josephine nodded without a word.

Jenny hesitated. Then she put her revolver back in its holster, and followed her two teammates.

The other girls exchanged looks.

Then, one by one, they left.

11:48am

“Bell will start tolling soon, Indian girl. You better pray to your gods or spirits or whatever.”

Sand could hear Mary’s smile in her voice.

The Navajo scout was beyond furious. This settler shouldn’t have caused her any trouble! Or at least she would have, had she not been in her back with her rifle already at hand, while Sand’s weapon was still in its holster.

“I will kill you for that.”

“A loophole for a loophole. There’s no way I’m letting you two kill Victoria.” Mary retorted. “Don’t worry. It’ll be over soon-ark!”

Sylvié hit the back of Mary’s head with a plank, sending the brunette’s hat flying.

The gunslinger grunted, and collapsed face first onto the ground.

“Not a chance.” Sylvié snarled, filled with protective fury.

Sand’s face lit up. “Love!”

“Don’t turn around.” Sylvié hurriedly whispered. “Bell is about to toll. I’ll wear her clothes. We can’t let Victoria notice what happened.”

The French maid crouched down to inspect Mary, then she hurriedly removed the gunwoman’s boots, opened her belt, pulled off her trousers, untied her scarf, took off her coat, and unbuttoned and pulled off her flannel shirt.

“Did you kill her?”

“No. Knocked her out cold. Just like how you showed me.”

Sand admitted to herself she was relieved.

She didn’t want Sylvié to become a killer. The very idea her French soulmate would sully her hands with blood repulsed her. She wanted to protect that purity.

“Then when it’s done I will-”

“Forget about her, chérie. I won’t kill a girl just because she’s stupid and in love. And I don’t want you to either. Leave this one to me.”

Sylvié pulled out a syringe from her doctor bag, and filled it with enough laudanum to make Mary sleep for three hours. “We’ll let Brett arrest her, and the law will decide what to do with her.”

Sand shrugged. “Anything for you, my French beauty.”

Sylvié injected Mary with the sleeping drug – the gunslinger was left clad in plain white underdrawers. To cover her breasts, Mary was using white bandages wrapped around the chest. Sylvié deduced that Mary had quite big breasts, but was compressing them to shoot more easily – to serve Victoria more efficiently. She shook her head, and dragged the unconscious brunette behind the corner to conceal her, dropped her own clothes onto the ground, and swiftly put on Mary’s outfit.

Then she moved behind Sand, pretending to threaten her with her rifle.

“When the duel begins and Victoria’s attention is focused on Nancy, hand me the Sharps rifle.” Sand whispered.

“Okay.”

The bell toll began.

****************

The bell toll began.

First toll.

Victoria grinned from ear to ear.

Second toll.

Nancy looked at her in disgust. “You seem overjoyed.”

Third toll.

“Of course.”

Fourth toll.

“You hate me right?” Nancy commented.

Fifth toll.

“Yes.” The blunt answer came naturally. Victoria stopped smiling. “You have everything.”

Sixth toll.

“You think you’re so high and mighty.”

Seventh toll.

“You’re Brett’s precious little sheriff.”

Eighth toll.

“And…” Victoria glared at Nancy’s stomach. Ever so briefly, she clutched her own stomach. Her own womb.

Ninth toll.

“It could’ve been mine…”

Tenth toll.

“It should’ve been mine!”

And Nancy saw something dark and ancient and ugly in Victoria’s eyes. Boundless envy.

Eleventh toll.

Nancy sighed, and braced herself. “At this point, it’s almost mercy...”

Twelfth toll.

Victoria drew her gun, still as inhumanely fast as Nancy remembered. When Nancy pulled her gun out, Victoria’s was already aimed at her face.

To Nancy, it was as if time had slowed down.
She saw Victoria’s smile. During one millisecond, Nancy saw the face of death itself. Victoria’s finger pressed the trigger.

A gunshot rang.

Nancy’s heart missed a beat.

Victoria’s gun went flying, a gaping hole in her hand.

Sand was faster. By one millisecond.

Nancy finished drawing her gun, and shot Victoria in the leg.

The bounty hunter cried in pain. She fell on the ground, clutching her wounds.

Nancy, Sand, and Sylvié had won.

Nancy let out a long breath. She heard Sand and Sylvié cheer their victory. Clinton exited the saloon, still bandaged, and limped towards them.

On the ground, Victoria coughed. "You tricky bitch…"

Nancy shrugged. "Check the fine prints, sweetie. I never promised a duel. If you misinterpreted my words, then it’s your fault.”

Victoria glared at her, then she burst out laughing – alternating with hiccups of pain. “You- You got me!”

“Looks like Sand is the fastest draw after all. White folks can’t compare to Navajos." Nancy said with pride.

Victoria stared at the gaping hole in her hand. “I’ve always wondered… if I was faster than them…Guess that answers the question…” Her eyes suddenly were distant – as if she was staring past Nancy. “I… remember the Zuni… I never… never managed to understand them… never grasped what they meant…We...ah...could learn at lot from the Natives if we weren't so busy herding them onto reservations like cattle. They know...ah...the truth of the world and that's survival at any cost.” She looked Nancy in the eyes. “But why… didn't you... finish me off? Something about your code?"

"Something like that, yes." Nancy pulled out a manacle. "Victoria van der Laar. You're under arrest for murder and interfering with Marshal Stockton’s investigation."

“I refuse to let DeBeers... use me as his fall girl. Cause that’s what he’ll do. He’ll pin... everything on me... and get away with it.” Victoria shook her head, regaining some strength. "Better the gun than the rope. I always knew I'd end like this. It's only fair." She looked Nancy in the eyes. "I just want to die free."

“You really are a piece of work! What about Lizzie and the kids?”

Victoria’s gaze became distant. Her eyes were moist, her uninjured hand clutched against her belly. “Have you ever loved someone so much… you end up smothering them?”

She looked surprisingly vulnerable. For one brief second, Nancy got a glimpse at the woman Victoria had been ten years ago – a husk, broken by years of abuse and the death of a child, until she snapped and lashed out against the world.

“I’m a snake, sheriff. It’s in my nature... to hurt everyone around me… especially those who are the closest… like the scorpion in the frog’s tale...”

Slowly, Nancy enunciated: “As a sheriff of the Arizona Territory it's my duty to bring outlaws in for trial.” She paused ever so briefly, as if debating something within herself, then made her mind and added: “And to kill those who refuse to submit to the law."

Victoria's eyes glimmered in understanding. “Looks like you win from beginning to end…”

She suddenly grabbed a hidden derringer concealed in her cleavage, and pointed it at Nancy.

Another shot rang out and Victoria's head snapped back, a bullet clean through her skull, courtesy of Sand. The young Navajo was still holding Mary’s Sharps rifle.

Victoria was smiling however, as if grateful.

Nancy sighed. "You could've chosen the other way. You could’ve chosen to live for THEM. You may even have had a chance... What a waste." Even she didn’t know if she was talking about what just happened– or just Victoria’s life in general.

Clinton frowned. "What just happened? I'm not quite sure I understood…"

Nancy crossed Victoria's hands on her chest, then closed her eyes. Maybe out of respect for the dead. Most likely because she knew a mother of three had just lost her only sister – a horrible sister, but her last family nonetheless – and she would not defile the body for Elizabeth’s sake. "It's a woman's thing, Mr. O'Hara. You wouldn't understand."

Sand approached them. “What did she say?”

“Nothing of consequence. She just thought of her family.”

“Then she shouldn’t have picked up a fight she couldn’t win. Truly she was a rattlesnake to the end, and you did good by ridding the world of her.”

Sylvié intertwined her fingers with Sand’s and put her head on her lover’s shoulder. “Not a rattlesnake, ma chérie.”

Nancy nodded. “A rabid dog. A rabid Old Yeller who never forgot the sting of her master’s belt, and lashed out at the world in misplaced anger.”

“I judge her by her deeds, not her reasons. She even said it herself: "Only the results of your actions matter.” Sand shook her head. “There are things I’ll never understand about your people, Nancy.” she admitted in all honesty. “But I respect your feelings.”

Nancy smiled. “And I respect yours, my friend.”

Sylvié gave a quick peck on Sand’s lips. Of course, the latter returned it – a lot more passionately.

Clinton left the two lovebirds alone. She looked down at Victoria. "So. Do we send her to DeBeers as a warning?"

Nancy shook her head. "I think her sister has the right to decide what to do with her body. As for DeBeers, we'll use his own weapons against him." She showed off the letters, and smiled cruelly. "Lawyers and legal documents."

Clinton chuckled to himself. "A corpse would have been kinder…”

12:30pm

Brett and his men arrived late. The marshal took everything in charge. He collected the documents, had the unconscious Mary tied to a horse to be arrested, collected the body of the woman Victoria had killed so that she could get a proper burial, and went to pay his last respect to Victoria herself.

Nancy stayed with him.

“I always knew she’d go too far… and end up like that.” Brett commented. “Still, I could never stop hoping it’d go differently…” He looked at Nancy. “You did everything right, Nance.”

“I don’t have any regrets, uncle. It’s just…”

… just that she knew that in Louisiana, somewhere in-between Baton Rouge and Lafayette, in an estate too big for them, a good woman would never see her sister again, and three kids would never see their aunt again.

“I’ll make sure Victoria’s body is delivered to her sister in good condition. Maybe you should come too.” Brett proposed. “This story needs closure.”

[Stormtrooper1990]

Epilogue:
**************

Brewsters Saloon, Lafayette LA, Wednesday 18th November 1884 10:00am


Lafayette – formerly known as Vermilionville – was a town Nancy and her friends hadn’t had the time to visit during their adventures in Louisiana. Now that DeBeers had been taken care of and their names had been cleared, courtesy of Brett, they could enjoy the accommodations.

With its economy based on agriculture, Lafayette offered a big contrast with New Orleans and its commercial hub. Yet, the general atmosphere felt more appeased than Baton Rouge. People seemed less dumb too. Nancy, Clinton, Sylvié, and Sand were sharing a drink in the common room of a cozy inn.

“You sure about that?”

“Clint. It’s the third time you’ve asked today. Yes, I am sure. I need to do this, and I believe Elizabeth needs it too.” Nancy replied patiently. “Besides, I’ll be with Brett.”

“The marshal will watch her like a hawk.” Sand intervened. “She’s family to him. I’ve never seen the old wolf fight, but I’ve seen his eyes and his hands. I pity the fool who’d try to hurt Nancy on his watch.”

Sylvié snorted. “Yeah. I’ve heard of how he arrested DeBeers. Literally kicked the guy in the ass and out of his house. Then when DeBeers complained, he wrote on the report DeBeers resisted his arrest. Nance, I think he had a lot of pent-up anger towards the prick for what he did to you…”

“I could go with you.”

“I prefer to do this alone.” Nancy insisted, gently but firmly. “Elizabeth, Victoria, and I… We need to close this chapter of our lives ourselves.”

Sand opened her mouth.

Nancy raised one finger. “Don’t you dare. I know you don’t want to return there. Not yet, at least. And I don’t want you to do it for my sake.”

Sand hesitated to argue, but then nodded. “I’m not ready to face her again.”

“You’ll be one day. Then it’ll be time for another trip to Louisiana. A serene trip.” Nancy touched her stomach. “A family trip.”

Clinton smiled at the sight of her belly. The bump was still small, but now quite noticeable. It was most likely Nancy’s last chance to travel a bit before she’d need to save her strength. He jokingly conceded defeat. “Okay. What can I do? Alas, I’m just one man… One unmarried man at that.” He glanced at Nancy longingly. “But not for long...”

Nancy chuckled. Their marriage was long overdue. They’d ask the priest the moment they stepped one foot in Red Rock.

The door of the inn opened.


Clinton briefly paled at the sight of the newcomers. “Oh oh. Keep your heads to your drinks.” he advised his friends and soon-to-be wife.

Three young ladies dressed in prim-looking dresses, booties, and hats entered the inn. Sofia Macer and her two cousins, Margaret and Julia.

“What are they doing here? They’re here for revenge?” Sand whispered. She looked around her. “Nancy, the two wenches of the inn are close to our size. We can grab them, take their outfits, and hide them in the storage closet. I bet they have spare ropes and towels there to bind and gag them. Then we lure these three in the kitchen, knock them out, take their clothes, bind and gag them, hide them with the wenches, and we can skip town with their coach-”

“Wow, easy on the trigger, Sand!” Nancy interrupted her.

“Sand, their family owns a mansion in this town. They’re from here. It’s just a coincidence.” Clinton explained. “Don’t make a fuss. We’re not wanted anymore. We can’t have them recognize us.”

Clinton was right. When they had mugged Sofia and her cousins, they had been wearing rugged outfits and scarves designed to make them look like outlaws. The three women shouldn’t be able to make the connection between the party of a traveling sheriff and a group of highway robbers. However, it was best to not tempt fate. Sofia at least may be insightful enough to recognize their faces or voices.

Moreover, Sofia apparently had other things on her mind. She turned to speak to another person, who was behind her.

“There Miss Cavill. We made the detour. You can now fetch your stuff.”

The fourth woman stepped inside.

Sylvié cringed. “Oh God, it’s her. Of all places, she had to be here too.” she whispered.

Eleanor Cavill. Sylvié’s former employer in the flesh. She looked faintly more disheveled, and her clothes seemed a bit more ruffled, than in Nancy’s memory. She was still a beautiful woman but, apparently, she had some trouble taking care of her haircut and outfit on her own.

Sylvié buried her face in her glass, to avoid eye contact with her former employer. Eleanor’s eyes briefly fell on her. But Sylvié had been changed by her adventures. Her skin was more tanned, her figure was fitter. And, more importantly, her body language was different. She was more asserted,
more confident. She wasn’t dressed as a maid anymore, instead wearing the trousers, duster, and hat of a traveling ranch hand.

Eleanor didn’t recognize her. She squinted her nose. “What a drab little town. I can’t wait to return to more civilized lands.”

“These so-called ‘savage lands’ are our State, Miss Cavill.” Sofia interrupted the singer. “I advise you to remember it, since we generously allowed you to travel with us to New Orleans. Speaking of which. Why didn’t you pack your stuff in advance? We’re wasting time because of you.”

“How am I supposed to pack my bags by myself?! It’s not my fault Dad couldn’t find me a new maid!” Eleanor exclaimed, as petulant and shrill as ever.

“I wonder why… Surely, candidates must have rushed to apply…” Sofia commented. Nancy clearly saw her refrain an eye roll.

The sarcasm flew over Eleanor’s head. “Of course they must be. I bet I’ll find a line waiting for me when I return home.”

“Then I advise you to pack your stuff fast.”

Eleanor climbed the stairs, and disappeared in the corridor leading to her bedroom.

“We should ditch her.” Margaret commented once the singer was out of sight. (Apparently, even she couldn’t stand Eleanor. So much for ‘Birds of a feather stick together’… Then again, Eleanor had pretty much insulted her hometown.)

“Margaret! That’s improper!” Julia gasped. Though judging by her tone it was also clear the idea didn’t displease her either.

“Don’t tempt me.” Sofia added. She checked her pocket watch. “We’ll wait for her in the coach. I’ll
see if I can get my hands on this syrup the doctor gave me to help me sleep. We could pour some in her next drink, and make sure she naps during the trip.”

Julia put a hand on her mouth. “You’re… joking right?”

“Only half-joking.”

The three ladies exited the inn.

Nancy waited until the door was closed. She raised her glass. “The whole trip from Lafayette to New Orleans stuck with Eleanor Cavill? I wish them luck.” Then she downed her drink.

Sylvié did the same. “Eleanor will probably need an hour to pack all her dresses. I don’t want to be here when she comes back.”

“Not even to rub your new better life in her face?” Clinton teased her.

Sylvié shrugged. “I’m not petty. Eleanor is a child in an adult’s body. I only wish her to grow up one day, her life will be a lot better when she does.” She caressed Sand’s arm. “Besides, since it’s settled Nancy is leaving with Brett, why don’t the two of us find some quite cozy place to have some time for ourselves? Just the two of us?” she said suggestively.

Sand downed her own drink. “Anything for my French beauty.”

“Sorry, Clint. But you’ll be on your own for the next couple of days.”

Clinton was the last to finish his glass. “My last days as an unmarried man. Might as well play some rounds of poker at the saloon.”

“Don’t drink too much.”

Sylvié winked. “Don’t worry. We’ll be watching him. Like hawks.”

“I know there’s no danger, but still. Be careful.” Sand added.

Nancy embraced her and Sylvié, then kissed Clinton. “I’ll be back soon. Then we can return to Red Rock.” She touched her belly. “And wait for the new member of our family…”


Lafayette Stable and Livery, 10:15am


Brett was waiting for her next to the stables. They’d need to ride quite some time to reach the Van der Laar Estate. Nancy didn’t mind. The last time she had an occasion to ride with Brett was back when her father was still alive.

“Ready to go?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Victoria’s coffin should’ve arrived. We must leave now if we want to be in time for the funeral.”

Nancy didn’t intend to attend the burial proper, but Brett had been invited. From what Nancy knew, he was the only person outside of Victoria’s blood family who was meant to take part in the ceremony. She knew he and Victoria had been close once, but apparently their bond had been even tighter than she suspected. Elizabeth had been treating Brett as if he was Victoria’s second father. But that
was a story for another time…

Brett went to grab his horse. However, the old man suddenly froze when he heard some voices nearby. “Oh. This should be interesting.”

Nancy frowned. “What do you mean?”

“That you’d better hide your face with your hat, and eavesdrop for a bit.”

There was something mischievous in Brett’s voice. He was suddenly looking a couple of decades younger – the spark in his eye reminded Nancy of her father whenever he had a surprise in his mind for her. She chose to humor him.

Brett discreetly approached a trio of women who were leaving the stables, Nancy in his footsteps. Then, at his prompting, she ducked behind the fence.

When the redhead got a better look at the three women, she understood why Brett had instructed her to keep a low profile. She recognized those three as (former?) DeBeers employees. And not just any former employees. Inés, Elena, and Mary-Beth. The first two, she had mugged and stripped them
with Sand’s help. The third, she had bullied her when impersonating Eleanor, and later she had helped Sylvié mug and strip her.

“… nice we were able to find new jobs so soon after the boss was arrested. Usually, people think twice before hiring former enforcers of a guy in jail.” Elena was saying.

“I still wonder how she managed to snag so many of his assets before they were frozen.” Inés replied. “I mean, I’m not complaining. That’s the reason why she hired us and many other former employees. But I’m curious. I think she managed to grab all the lands he owned in-between Lafayette and Baton Rouge.”

Elena shrugged. “Miss Gunderson is the sister of the boss' former associate. That must explain how.”


“Speaking of assets. Heard the latest news?” Mary-Beth chimed in. “They say with all his assets in Gunderson’s hands or frozen by the State, the boss can no longer pay his lawyers’ fees. He’s left without legal representation!” Her smile was a telling proof she no longer had any love for her former employer – being unjustly punished after one honest mistake could do that to any woman. “Looks like he’ll earn a nice long stay in jail!”

“His loss!” Elena agreed, not showing any sympathy to the man as well. She stretched. “Anyway. Shouldn’t we be leaving today for the Van der Laar Estate?”

“Heard Miss Gunderson will rename it the Masterson Estate.” Inés interrupted. “Her and her sister’s maiden name, they say.”

“Whatever.”

“She’s burying her sister.” Mary-Beth intervened. “We’re scheduled to go there in two days. In the meantime, we’re free to enjoy Lafayette’s accommodations!”

They began talking of their plans for the rest of the day.

Nancy and Brett tiptoed away.

“Gunderson?”

“Elizabeth’s last name. She’s a married woman, remember?” The marshal then asked: “So, did you enjoy the surprise?”

“Pray tell how you’d have done, had they not been here or, heck, had they decided to speak of anything else?”

“I’d have told you. But it wouldn’t have been nearly as fun.”

“Is this your revenge for all the times we had you rescue half-naked and naked ladies?”

“Maybe. Now let’s go. We are expected.”


The Van Der Laar Estate, 5 km West of Baton Rouge, Louisiana, 12:05pm


The Van der Laar Estate – apparently soon to be renamed the Masterson Estate – was just like.Nancy remembered. Except this time she had entered it through the front door instead of mugging a couple of girls for their outfits.

She let Brett do the talking with the women sent to greet the visitors. It was best to not draw too much attention to her. She suspected a good chunk of the women here didn’t have fond memories of her.

The marshal was conversing with two women – a cute auburn-haired maid and a Mexican sentry who appeared very close to each other. Both were familiar faces. Nancy tended to remember the girls she or her friends mugged. The Mexican girl Nancy had even seen her in her small clothes...

“The ceremony is about to begin. Miss Elizabeth is thankful to you for sending her sister’s coffin ahead and in good condition.” the maid was telling Brett. “They’re waiting for you.”

“Thank you.” Brett then turned towards Nancy: “I’ll go first. You may want to wait until the end of the ceremony...”

The redhead nodded.

He left.

The maid and the guard glanced at Nancy. Their faces didn’t betray any emotion, but they did have a slight moment of hesitation.

“I know the way.” Nancy finally said.

“I’m sure you do.” the maid answered. Her tone was meticulously casual. “I trust you’re not here to cause trouble.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“The marshal vouched for you. The other people of the estate have been warned. But it’s best if you keep to yourself.” the maid said.
Nancy noticed she was standing one step in front of the Mexican woman, protectively. Yes, the girl knew who Nancy was.

Ironically, the women of the estate who bore Nancy a grudge the most were the ones who had known Victoria the less. The ones who had always seen her from afar. Which was logical. Victoria’s closest companions – the ones who had ridden and fought with her – had also seen her lose her mind and shoot Ethel point blank. Sure, Elizabeth and Brett had told everyone what Victoria had done. But hearing someone’s crime and witnessing it firsthand weren’t the same thing.

Still, Nancy knew it was no use to argue or look for trouble. If these girls wanted to remember Victoria as the woman who had given them a safe haven and a chance to live free, then she’d let them. At least, Victoria was leaving some good behind her. People like DeBeers or Dunn couldn’t say that.

“I’m not looking for trouble. I’m just her to help Elizabeth find some closure. No need to chaperon me. I’m sure you two prefer to spend some time alone.”

The faint blush on the two women’s cheeks confirmed her suspicion. Nancy saluted them with her hat, and left them alone.

**************

Near a familiar wooden gantry, Nancy came across a familiar face. The worker fixing the gantry was mousy-looking, but Nancy would still recognize her anywhere. She didn’t know many women with a harelip.

‘Match Girl’ – the unlucky young woman who had been chosen as Nancy’s and Clinton’s jailer at New Orleans – raised her head, and recognized her former prisoner. (Former prisoner who had also threatened her, knocked her out, stolen her clothes and underclothes, and left her bound, gagged,
and naked in the cell.)


The girl raised her head, and recognized Nancy. “Oh.”

Nancy wondered how she would react if the girl made a scene or tried to fight her. ‘Match Girl’ had every reason to bear a grudge.

But the young woman looked more embarrassed than angry. “The marshal warned us. About you.”

“He did good, miss…” Nancy trailed off awkwardly. She realized she didn’t know the girl’s name.

“It’s Christine. Christine Anderson.”

“I apologize for what I did to you, Christine. I’d have preferred to meet you under different circumstances.”

The young woman bit her lower lip. “I heard… Mr DeBeers did it on purpose… He wanted me to die…” Christine held back a few tears.

“I’m sorry.” Nancy hesitated to put a hand on Christine’s shoulder, but decided against it. She didn’t want to invade the girl’s personal space uninvited.

Christine clenched her fists. “I sacrificed so much… so much time and efforts in his match factory… I thought it was a reward… But…” She shook her head. “I left town the moment I learned about his trick. I couldn’t bear working for him anymore. Miss Elizabeth offered me a roof and a job. I’m happy here.”

Nancy smiled. “I’m glad things turned out better for you.” she said earnestly.

Christine looked sideways, then asked: “Are you here for… the funeral?”

“I’ll be offering my condolences to Miss Elizabeth, yes. But I prefer to wait after the burial.”

Christine nodded. “Everyone here has… mixed feelings about Miss Victoria… After what she did…We all had a mass for her before you and the marshal came. A lot of us also wanted to go to the burial, but Miss Elizabeth asked us not to. She says we don’t need to pretend for her sake. She says we should take just the rest of the day off.”

“I see you’re not doing that.”

“We want to help her. We’re not relatives, it’s hard to share her pain. But the least we can do is to make sure the estate runs properly.”

Nancy smiled to herself. It warmed her heart to know there were still good people.

“With girls like you to support her, I’m not worried for Elizabeth.”

Then she resumed her walk.

The Estate's Cotton Fields and Orchards, 12:18pm

Nancy preferred to not get close to the main manor of the estate. When she was looking at the big.building, she remembered an empty bedroom, with an empty crib and baby clothes covered with dust. The memory had made her feel uncomfortable back then, and was still making her uncomfortable now.

Therefore, she made a big detour through the fields and orchards. On her way, Nancy passed near a.group of three men fixing a fence. Apparently, just like Christine, they had decided to NOT take their day off.

One guy suddenly took his gun, and began twirling his gun around his finger. “Hey, Zeke! Watch this! I got even better!”

Zeke – a nickname for Ezekiel, Nancy supposed – sighed, and remained focused on his task. “Yes, Billy. It’s a nice trick.”

The third man – whom Nancy didn’t know but who had the accent of a Baton Rouge native and wore a well-polished wedding ring – rolled his eyes. “You’ll shoot yourself in the foot, Billy. Again.”

“Nonsense. I removed all the bullets this time. ‘Cause I’m smart. I learn from my mistakes.”

The revolver fell down from Billy’s finger, and landed on his foot. Nancy winced.

“Ouch! My toe! I’m hurt! I’m very very hurt!”
Ezekiel rolled his eyes. “I’ll fetch the nurses. Again.”

Nancy shrugged, and kept walking. Looks like they have everything under control.

**************

Nancy was righter than she knew.

Apparently, the nurses were stationed right next to where Billy was working, because not five minutes later she was seeing a trio of women led by Ezekiel head towards the ‘very very hurt’ man. (Nancy wondered if the nurses were always stationed near where Billy was...)

The group was led by a familiar face. Michaela Quinn. Apparently, she had followed Nancy’s advice, and left Jamesville for the Van der Laar Estate. And perhaps she had found something even better on the way, judging by the familiarity with which she and Ezekiel were walking and talking with each other.

In fact, all three nurses were familiar faces. Michaela’s aides were the two nurses Nancy had encountered in Baton Rouge, Lottie and her brown-haired friend.

While Nancy was happy these three had found a better situation, she also felt a bit awkward. She had mugged these women, after all, so how could she even try and begin a conversation?

Luckily for her, the three nurses were too busy to pay her attention. They passed next to her without recognizing her.

“I can’t believe Billy is at it again. It’s the second time this week.” Michaela was complaining.

“My guess. He’s doing it on purpose. You’ll notice he never hurts himself when Lucy is off duty.” Lottie commented.

The brown-haired nurse huffed. “That’s so dumb.”

Lottie playfully elbowed her. “Come on. You can’t deny it’s a little romantic, to have a guy ready to hurt himself for your eyes.”

Lucy blushed slightly. “True. But I’d prefer it if he gave me flowers. I wouldn’t have to worry so much then…”

Nancy watched them leave her line of sight, and shrugged.

Love works in mysterious ways.


The Estate's Stableyard, 12:25pm


The estate had a small church and cemetery, not too far away from a very familiar small stable yard, and a rickety outbuilding. Since Nancy’s last visit, Elizabeth had decided to restore this area, since three girls were busy fixing the fences, stalls, and outbuilding.

One was a redhead, one was a blonde, and one was a brunette. The redhead was on her own, while her blonde and brown-haired friends had found an excuse to work together.

Nancy braced herself. Apparently, she couldn’t escape her fate. All the girls she’d meet on her way would be ones who had a personal beef with her. It almost made her believe there was a God… and He was having some fun at her expense.

The sheriff sighed. It was best to get this over with! She went to speak with the redhead busy fixing a fence.

“Hello. Is the ceremony over?”

Jenny’s eyes widened. “Y- You?!” Alice and Josephine turned their heads when they heard her.

Nancy showed them her hands. “I’m here for the funeral.”

Jenny grimaced awkwardly, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. All the colour left her face. She shared an awkward glance with Josephine and Alice. “The girls…We, we all went to the mass… But we were… relieved when Miss Elizabeth said she preferred we didn’t come to the burial… The workers and the other guards wanted to come, but we… the ones who came with Victoria, I mean… we didn’t feel like… I mean, we sympathize with Miss Elizabeth, and we believe her when she says the boss- I mean- Victoria… wasn’t always like that. But after what she did to Ethel… We couldn’t bring ourselves to…”

“No need to justify yourself.”

“We talked to the marshal.” Josephine intervened. “We asked him about Mary. He said she’s still in custody. She’s taking things hard.”

“He said she won’t get the rope.” Alice added. “But she may still get punished. She- She’s been arrested in Arizona Territory. I know she tried to kill you, but she was heads over heels for Victoria… She thought she was doing the right thing… Maybe you could…”

Nancy got the picture. “I’ll see what I can do. But only on the condition she’s no threat to me or my loved ones.”

“Fair.” Jenny nodded, and returned to her fence.

However, Alice and Josephine approached Nancy. They exchanged a flustered look. “Sheriff. Can we have a word with you?”

Nancy winced faintly. “Of course.”

Alice blushed a crimson shade of red – though Josephine wasn’t faring much better, as her cheeks were also quite rose. “We- We wanted to… thank you.”

Nancy frowned. That one, she genuinely didn’t expect it. “… thank me?”

Alice waddled nervously. “I mean- thanks to you we… We realized some… things about us… And now we’re together… And I know it wasn’t your intent but… We found love. So thank you.”

Nancy was feeling more and more awkward with each second. “You’re… welcome, I guess.”

Alice and Josephine apparently sensed the awkwardness. They quickly saluted and walked away, faces still red.

Nancy watched them. She eyed Jenny sideways. “Do I want to know more?”

Jenny answered while having a thousand-yards stare. “Last time they did it, they asked me to bind them together. I fear one day they’ll ask me to leave them in a crate.”

“Not wanting to know more. Got it.”

The Estate's Chapel and Cemetery, 12:32pm

Nancy approached the small funeral party with a mixture of trepidation and dread.

The group was small. As Christine had explained, Elizabeth had asked the employees to not come here after the mass.

There was a black-clad Elizabeth, her children, a middle-aged bespectacled man she took to be her husband, Brett, and a balding preacher. But at least the mourners were all sincere. Nancy had no doubts fat cats like DeBeers had huge funeral parties, but she also suspected none of the attendees felt genuine sadness.

Victoria had been lucky to have people in her life who loved her enough to not want to see her gone, no matter what she had done. If only she’d been able to focus on that...

Nancy took a long breath. The scene ahead brought back many unpleasant memories of the day she and uncle Wade had laid her parents to rest. With only a few drops of whisky and the Lord's Prayer to send them to the angels. Nancy had lost her faith that day but the whole affair with DeBeers and
the fateful duel with Victoria, had made her begin to reflect on not just Victoria's wasted life but on her own choices. Taking off her hat, out of both respect for Elizabeth and the passing of a fellow gunslinger, Nancy held it to her breast watching as the pallbearers took Victoria's coffin on her final journey into her small tomb, reciting the Lord's Prayer along with the small funeral party.

Waiting until the group dispersed and only Elizabeth remained watching as her sister was entombed, Nancy approached the grieving young woman who projected a noble almost ethereal air as tears ran down her beautiful rounded face.

"Miss Elizabeth? Ma'am. I'm sorry for your loss." Nancy said nervously not knowing just how she would react coming face to face with her sister’s murderer.

To her surprise, Elizabeth smiled – albeit thinly and sadly – as she turned. "Sheriff O'Hara. Brett told me you’d come. I thank you for that."

There was an awkward silence between the two women as they looked at the workmen sealing up the tomb, before Elizabeth cleared her throat choked full of grief.

"When we were growing up, Victoria used to be so different. She was so brave, and beautiful... the strongest of us... There wasn’t a tree she couldn’t climb... She was the one that the boys were chasing. The one who always dressed my knees after I fell climbing the stupid barn." Elizabeth sniffed, clearing her eyes with a handkerchief. "Then Daddy went off to war, to fight the North, leaving mother, Elizabeth and I to defend the farm. That's when she taught herself to shoot with Daddy's old gun. "I will protect you, mamma and the farm from the North. Because family is all that matters." She was so selfless. That was then she became my heroine. But everything changed when Daddy returned home, not the same man who had left."

She let out a shuddering breath.

Respectfully, Nancy allowed her to continue.

"The farm began to fail with bad harvest after bad harvest and our debts were mounting up. It seemed God was punishing us for our transgressions."

"What happened then?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "Vaclav Van de Laar happened. The biggest landowner in the state came to our little farm. He offered my parents $1000 dollars and their debts cleared if he had Vickie’s hand in marriage." She spat in the ground in disgust before continuing. "And my parents, the weak gullible and desperate fools they were, took the money. And ultimately, it was all for nothing. Sickness took them and our brother away shortly after, and we lost the farm anyway." She retorted with a bitterness that didn't suit her. "I saw Vickie wither away, day after day, month after month… Until one day he…" She hesitated, but shook her head. “There’s no point in hiding it… You saw her bedroom… You’ve probably figured it out long ago…”

“He killed her child.”

Elizabeth nodded. “She was pregnant, and he kicked her in the stomach.”

Nancy sighed. "And that's what made her decide to take her revenge, my God."

Elizabeth nodded. "It was ten years ago. She poisoned his food. Heard it took him hours to die.” Once again, her face was contorted by rage. “I hope he did. That man was a disease.”

“I heard you’ll rename the estate.”

“Vickie could never let go. No matter how much she denied it, she defined herself after him. Kept his name, kept his estate. She spent her life settling the score with him. But she could never see that also meant he had won. Even in death, he held sway over her. Me? I want to move on.”

“What happened to her? After he died?”

“She ran away. She drifted from place to place. Texas, Arizona… First became a ranch hand, then a bounty hunter. I couldn’t hear much from her – she was a wanted woman here in Louisiana. But she sent me letters. I was happy, in a way. I was with Harold. With Samuel and Jane. And I knew Vickie was out there, alive somewhere. She sent me money to help me. She wrote me about Brett, about
some natives she had met… The ‘Zunis’ I believe. She claimed they weren’t her friends, but I suspected she was lying to herself.” Elizabeth stared in front of her, her mind lost in her memory. “Yes, I remember those times… We were poor, but happy… Until… Until I lost my little Emily…”

Nancy reflexively clutched her own womb.

"Vickie never answered my letter. I thought she was blaming herself for Emily’s death… I even thought she had died. But one year later, she came to our doorstep. Unannounced. I barely recognized her. ‘You don't have to worry anymore Lizzy.’ she said. ‘I have made a powerful friend. A man of means with more money than Vaclav could have ever dreamed of. I can protect you and the kids, and you'll want for nothing.’ And I saw something in her eyes, the same look of greed I had seen in Vaclav's. It was then I knew... I knew my sister would never be the same…"

Her emotion getting the better of her, Elizabeth sank to her knees and began to sob.

Her heart full of compassion, Nancy gently pulled up the grieving woman and gave her a gentle hug. They held it for at least 5 whole minutes.

"Damn your foolish pride, Vicky!" Elizabeth hysterically beat her hands on Nancy's chest before.pulling out and apologizing.

Nancy held her hand. "For what it's worth Elizabeth, I'm sorry for having to take her life. It's not how I wanted things to go down, I even gave her a way out but she refused to take it."

The grieving woman laid a hand on her shoulder. "Don't blame yourself sheriff, I will not have it. Victoria gave you no choice; it was either her life or yours. In a way, you were her redemption."

Nancy's brow furrowed. "What do you mean Miss Elizabeth?"

"That you gave her the peace in death she couldn't find in life. I don't know if you believe, Sheriff, but I believe that God sent you to save her from herself and redeem her immortal soul." She sighed heavily as Nancy stood awkwardly for a moment. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

There was another moment of silence.

The young sheriff glanced at the tomb. "Miss Elizabeth. I came here to tell you… Victoria’s last thoughts were for you and your kids… Till the end, she never stopped thinking of you… The sister you once knew was still alive, deep down inside... Remember her for the sister she was not the woman she became."

Elizabeth nodded, and dried off her tears. “Thank you for that… I… I needed to know that…”

Nancy doffed her hat. "I have intruded enough on your grief, ma'am. I shall take my leave."

Turning to leave Nancy felt Elizabeth's hand on her shoulder.

"Pardon me sheriff, but you are with child are you not?"

Nancy turned massaging the back of her neck. "Um...H-how do you know that ma'am?" she asked awkwardly.

Elizabeth chuckled. "Mrs O'Hara, you can wear loose cloaks all you want. I have three little ones and I know a pregnant lady when I see one. You have a… glow about you. An inner strength you.never knew you had."

Nancy grinned. "I have never felt so alive before in my life."

Elizabeth squeezed her shoulder. "Never lose sight of your family, always fight for them and hold them close. After all, it's the only thing that makes sense in a world that isn't kind to us women. Farewell Sheriff O'Hara, the Lord bless you and keep your family."

With that she walked away, leaving Nancy alone standing facing the tomb.

Turning she doffed her hat in respect. "I'm sorry, Victoria. May you rest in peace." She said before walking away.

[rufusluciusivan]

Ha ha! Three posts, it says something about the length of this finale.

I'm happy to see this project reaching its conclusion - not exactly one year after it began, but close. So it's time for one last behind-the-scenes:

Chapter 7 is quite unusual from the rest of the Red Rock II saga, so working on it was a very different experience. Its tone brings it a lot closer to the grittiest parts of the first Red Rock saga, hence the emphasis on lethal scenes and other dark themes. I never feature lethal in my stories, except for highly specific climax scenes, but in this case it felt important to highlight the stakes. Plus, when I think Western, I have in mind the Sergio Leone movies, and I wanted to pay homage to their gritty kind of atmosphere. One of the things that strikes me the most in Leone movie is the villains - Indio (and it's indeed a reference that the gang Brett busted in the past was led by a guy sharing his nickname), Angel Eyes, Frank... Pearl Dunn and Beatrice Smith are an homage to this brand of despicable outlaws of fiction that make for great antagonists.

Chapter 7 is also quite unusual in the sense that it leans a lot more towards plot and less towards uniform stealings. The final duel between Victoria and Nancy is not USB-related (well, almost not - thanks a lot, Mary! ). However, I couldn't see myself writing a Western story without THE Western staple, the final showdown - and ST agreed fully on that topic. The setting of the clocktower was inspired by Sam Raimi's The Quick and the Dead - when I discussed the reference with ST, I learned he too knew about and liked that movie.

Victoria is my favorite character, so I was quite happy she got a send-off befitting of a Western villain.

The epilogue was the funnest part to work on. ST and I made a checklist of the minor characters we liked the most, and the challenge was to find a way to feature them all. The only trick was to balance out the light-hearted first part of the epilogue and the sad emotional part with Elizabeth. Still, the idea was to have an optimistic ending. There is of course sadness, in that Victoria couldn't be saved from herself and her death leaves a void in her family's life. But there is also the notion that life goes on. Hence why we see many of these minor characters who continue to live on their lives. And of course there are Nancy's pregnancy, she and Clinton about to become parents, and Sand's and Sylvié's relationship. In that regard, Red Rock II has always been meant to be a bridge/interquel between Red Rock I and Red Rock I's epilogue.

The trickiest part of the epilogue was to give some space to Clinton, Brett, Sand, and Sylvié. In the earliest drafts, the saga was a lot more focused on Nancy and Victoria - Sand's and Sylvié's developments were added later in the development for instance. Therefore, the early draft of the final epilogue needed adjustments to feature a conclusion to Sylvié's and Sand's own story arc, hence the part in Lafayette.

[Stormtrooper1990]

Ha ha! Three posts, it says something about the length of this finale.

I'm happy to see this project reaching its conclusion - not exactly one year after it began, but close. So it's time for one last behind-the-scenes:

Chapter 7 is quite unusual from the rest of the Red Rock II saga, so working on it was a very different experience. Its tone brings it a lot closer to the grittiest parts of the first Red Rock saga, hence the emphasis on lethal scenes and other dark themes. I never feature lethal in my stories, except for highly specific climax scenes, but in this case it felt important to highlight the stakes. Plus, when I think Western, I have in mind the Sergio Leone movies, and I wanted to pay homage to their gritty kind of atmosphere. One of the things that strikes me the most in Leone movie is the villains - Indio (and it's indeed a reference that the gang Brett busted in the past was led by a guy sharing his nickname), Angel Eyes, Frank... Pearl Dunn and Beatrice Smith are an homage to this brand of despicable outlaws of fiction that make for great antagonists.

Chapter 7 is also quite unusual in the sense that it leans a lot more towards plot and less towards uniform stealings. The final duel between Victoria and Nancy is not USB-related (well, almost not - thanks a lot, Mary! ). However, I couldn't see myself writing a Western story without THE Western staple, the final showdown - and ST agreed fully on that topic. The setting of the clocktower was inspired by Sam Raimi's The Quick and the Dead - when I discussed the reference with ST, I learned he too knew about and liked that movie.

Victoria is my favorite character, so I was quite happy she got a send-off befitting of a Western villain.

The epilogue was the funnest part to work on. ST and I made a checklist of the minor characters we liked the most, and the challenge was to find a way to feature them all. The only trick was to balance out the light-hearted first part of the epilogue and the sad emotional part with Elizabeth. Still, the idea was to have an optimistic ending. There is of course sadness, in that Victoria couldn't be saved from herself and her death leaves a void in her family's life. But there is also the notion that life goes on. Hence why we see many of these minor characters who continue to live on their lives. And of course there are Nancy's pregnancy, she and Clinton about to become parents, and Sand's and Sylvié's relationship. In that regard, Red Rock II has always been meant to be a bridge/interquel between Red Rock I and Red Rock I's epilogue.

The trickiest part of the epilogue was to give some space to Clinton, Brett, Sand, and Sylvié. In the earliest drafts, the saga was a lot more focused on Nancy and Victoria - Sand's and Sylvié's developments were added later in the development for instance. Therefore, the early draft of the final epilogue needed adjustments to feature a conclusion to Sylvié's and Sand's own story arc, hence the part in Lafayette.

Indeed, I think I can say this for the both of us that it was both a real pleasure and a honour to work on Red Rock II which took 8 long but gloriously satisfying months.


I think we did an excellent job in paying homage to the gritty atmosphere of the classic Sergio Leone spaghetti westerns, something that both Rufus and myself love. And even though Pearl wasn't in the story for very long, she still leaves an impression and I would say she is perhaps even more despicable than Victoria was. With her end being well deserved in contrast to Victoria's.


When it came to the iconic clock tower showdown between Nancy and Victoria, Rufus and I agreed quite strongly that you couldn't have a western story without having a duel. And when it came to inspiration, we looked no further than The Quick and the Dead . Which was fitting considering that Sharon Stones character, The Lady, partly inspired Nancy's character and how Victoria was reminiscent of Gene Hackman's dastardly mayor.


I have to admit that at first I judged Victoria too harshly during the early stages of the stories conception. But she did grow on me over the course of the saga, and I agree with rufus that she got an ending befitting that of any Western villain.


It was a lot of fun working on the epilogue, deciding with rufus on who to include. And I'am pretty sure we didn't leave anyone out. That being said, there were characters like Eleanor, Christine and the stoogettes who were no brainers and others like Michaela, Lotte, Lucy and the Macers who were added later as the saga progressed. Even minor characters like the maid and her Mexican lover had their chance in the limelight.


Now that everything has come together; Red Rock I and II, it's good that we ended the saga on a high. That despite the bittersweet ending, there is as Rufus put it room for hope and optimism that feeds perfectly onto the ending of Red Rock I. I'm pleased with how the saga has turned out and immensely satisfied with the outcome of all the character arcs, Sand and Sylviés in particular.