Red Rock II Chapter 7:- Showdown at Redemption (A USB story by Rufusluciusivan and Stormtrooper1990)
Posted: Mon Sep 08, 2025 7:05 am
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.
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.
