Well, here I am again, doing my best to educate the masses as to the past glories and failures in Jonah Hex's life. This story is actually still in progress over at DC2, with the last 2 parts to be posted in July and October of 2010, respectively. But as you may have heard, Jonah's got a movie coming out this June 18th (rated PG-13, buy your tickets now!), so I decided to ride on their marketing coattails and begin the reposting right now - every few weeks, I'll add a new bit over here until we hit the end, sort of like what I did 5 years back with "The Long Road Home".

When I started WWQ over at DC2, one of the first questions I got was, "Are you going to cover Mei Ling?" and I gave a firm "maybe" on that. I was waiting to see if Jimmy & Justin would cover Jonah and Mei Ling's relationship in the regular JH book, since I'd jumped the gun and covered Jonah's origin before them (fair's fair...after all, they're getting paid and I'm not). But time passed and, aside from a mention here and there, J&J didn't seem to want to touch that period, so I sat down and looked over the old books to refresh myself on the subject. I knew right off this wasn't going to be like "Death and Gunsmoke", where I strung together bits of flashbacks: if I did this, I couldn't parrot what came before word-for-word, I had to find something different to say about this period, but I also didn't want to go so far off-book that I misled new fans as to what really happened. So for those who know the old history, you'll find some events have been changed while others have been elaborated on (some in ways that the Comics Code certainly wouldn't have allowed!). And for those who are only just beginning to learn about Jonah Hex, please take the time to look for the actual comics, don't ever take what I say as 100% gospel truth - my Hex-fics are just a way of introducing you to the good stuff you may have missed.

Disclaimer: All characters in this story are owned by DC Comics. Portions of this story are based on events described in Weird Western Tales #13, Jonah Hex (vol. 1) #23 & 42-53, and Jonah Hex (vol. 2) #14, 16-17, 40-41 & 50.

Continuity: Originally posted on the DC2 fanfiction site under the issues Weird Western Quarterly #13-17 & 19-20, DC2 Special #5, and Weird Western Spectacular #1. For a link, please click on the homepage listed under my profile.

LOVE AND WAR: PRELUDE TO A RECKONING

1871:

Beau Cochrane felt uneasy. This wasn't his sort of place, all this fancy furniture and servants at your beck and call. Why would a man who lived in this atmosphere want to talk to him? Reckon I'll find out soon enough, he thought as the colored houseboy opened the parlor doors and ushered him in. The room beyond the doors was just as plush as the rest of the house, the waning light of sunset coming through the windows and caressing what seemed like acres of mahogany, brass, and silk. A man was sitting with his back to the window, the high back of his chair throwing most of him into shadow, save for his hands, which were clasped upon an eagle-headed cane before him.

"Mastuh Turnbull," the houseboy said, "this here's Mistuh Beauregard Cochrane. Mistuh Temple sent him along tuh help out with...with what you have in mind."

"Thank you, Solomon. That will be all." One hand lifted from the cane in a faint gesture of dismissal, and as the houseboy departed, the hand swept towards a nearby chair. "Please, do have a seat, Mr. Cochrane." He did so, and the man in the shadows asked, "Did Temple explain why I requested your presence here?"

"Not a bit. He just said you had a job for me...though I can't imagine what sort of job a man like you would have for a man like me."

"In due time. First, I want to make sure of your credentials. You are a true Son of the Confederacy, are you not?"

Cochrane nodded, saying, "Captain in the 1st Virginia, under Stuart, God rest his soul."

"Black Horse Cavalry...very good." The man was obviously pleased by that. "And do you still consider yourself a Confederate, sir?"

"I never let 'em force me into signin' one of them loyalty oaths, if that's what you mean. I fought them Yankee bastards for a good five months after Appomattox, 'til they chained me up like a Nigra and tossed me in jail." The corner of his mouth turned up slightly. "Made 'em regret it right quick, too."

"So you have suffered personally at the hands of the North? More than the War, I mean."

"I'd say they're the reason I'm livin' like a damn rat in a hole, yeah. Hard to make a decent wage when the law looks on you as a wanted criminal." Cochrane shifted in his chair. "There a point to all this falderal?"

"As I said, I wanted to make sure of your credentials. You see, I believe the task at hand should be completed by someone like yourself. Someone whose loyalty has never wavered from his native soil...and who would be sickened by the thought that one of his fellow soldiers let those under him suffer for his own personal gain."

That caught Cochrane's attention. "How so?"

"He sold out his own men - three dozen of them - to the Union forces. What he got out of the deal, I do not know, but those men are all dead, just the same. For eight years, he has escaped proper justice...but something tells me that now is the time to rectify the situation." The man leaned forward, revealing an old, haggard face beneath a crown of white hair. "In the name of the 7th Virginia...and in the name of my dearly departed son...I want you to track this man down and make him pay for his crimes. You will be rewarded handsomely, of course, and any expenses you accrue will be covered, no questions asked. All I ask for is proof of the deed."

"You pay me enough money, and I'll do him up like John the Baptist," Cochrane said. "Who is this bastard, anyhow?"

In reply, the man picked something up off the table next to him and handed it to Cochrane. It was a photograph of a young man in Confederate gray...or rather half a photograph. The right side of it was jagged, and Cochrane noticed the Reb was reaching over to shake hands with someone who was no longer there.

"His name," Quentin Turnbull said with a note of disgust, "is Jonah Woodson Hex."