Sadie was in no condition to leave Tumbleweed after her encounter with the Del Lobos. Most of the people that were taken to Gaptooth Breach were lucky if they lasted more than a few weeks. Sadie had been worked hard in the blazing New Austin heat from dawn until dusk for six long months. Starved, barely given enough water, on occasion beaten, it was a miracle she was even alive. However, she was always a huge believer in the old adage that whatever didn't kill you made you stronger. It was just a shame that it sometimes took a while.
She had no idea where her horse had gone after the shootout at Fort Mercer, whether it had run off and gotten lost somewhere in the wilderness, likely to become a good meal for the coyotes and the condors, or whether Langton had taken it with him when he turned tail and ran like a whipped dog, leaving her to the mercies of Micah and the Del Lobos, or perhaps it had been picked up by some passer-by who no doubt would take it in. It was a damn good horse, and anyone finding her would be lucky to own such a steed. It did mean that she would have to buy or barter for another horse, but there wasn't much point in doing that until she had healed up enough to ride the damn thing anyway.
To call Tumbleweed a rough place was the understatement of the century. Even by the early 1900's the town never looked like it was going to become part of the modern world. As people either aged and died or left the town, it looked more and more likely that one day the town of Tumbleweed would be just another of the many abandoned ghost towns that lay barren, simply crumbling away with the years.
She told the Sheriff about Gaptooth Breach, and he had assembled a group of deputies and willing volunteers to ride out and shut it down for good. Sadie appreciated how fortunate she was to simply escape with the slaves she had, but that wouldn't mean once they found out what happened they wouldn't simply start up all over again. There was no way that Sadie wanted to see anyone else live through that.
They'd come back, having found nothing, not even the corpses that Sadie had told them they would find, which just confirmed that Cortez and his boys already knew that the slaves had escaped. Just because they weren't there now didn't mean they wouldn't come back once they were sure the heat was off. It was much too lucrative a deal for them to just walk away from, so they sent out a party every few days just to see if there was any movement.
It was almost two weeks before Sadie even had the strength enough to walk around for more than a few hours at a time. After that, she wanted to make sure she improved. She'd fought with the Van Der Linde Gang before, and she had held her own, but her humiliation at Micah's hands had shown her a stark lesson in hubris. Micah was a lot of things. A back-stabbing snake, an opportunist, a stinking low-life coward, but the one thing he wasn't was helpless. As much as it pained her to admit it, the bastard was one of the best gunslingers that still roamed the country. He was fast, he was deadly, and he had the kind of reputation that attracted fellow bastards to his side like flies on shit. She'd underestimated him, she'd underestimated how sneaky he was, and she'd underestimated the Del Lobos, and it had cost her dearly. She was never going to let that happen again.
Of course, determination alone didn't make things happen. She started practicing to sharpen her skills from the moment she had the strength to lift a revolver again. Unfortunately it seemed she was messed up by her captivity more than she thought. She spent hours upon hours shooting at bottles lined up on a fence, trying to get her aim and her speed up to scratch. She was frustrated the first time she fired and she ended up missing more bottles than she hit. Her game was off, and that could cost her dearly. She didn't much care what happened to her once Micah had a bullet between the eyes, but that meant she had to live long enough to pull the trigger in the first place, and the way she was shooting…
"God DAMN it!" She roared as she emptied the spent cases out onto the dust and reloaded. Four out of six, that was the best she'd managed. Four out of six…nowhere near Micah's level. Hell, it was nowhere near HER level. Her frustration only built as she fired volley after volley. The only person happy with her constant shooting was the General Store owner who was doing a storming trade in bullets, an embarrassing number of which ended up in the desert. The people of Tumbleweed for the most part just ignored her, letting her go about her business. They had their own worries, but after almost a fortnight, she did notice there was one guy who started to turn up and just sit with a bottle of bourbon and watch her shoot. As she drew and rattled off another six rounds, she saw that again only four of the six bottles she was aiming at had been touched. She let out a massive yell of barely contained rage as she lost her temper, before noticing the old man, casually sipping his whiskey.
"What are you lookin' at stranger?" She asked him.
"Oh, I'm just enjoyin' some fine whiskey." He told her, taking another sip.
"Well there's a saloon over there for that." Sadie snapped, gesturing to the saloon across from her. She lined up some more bottles and walked back to her line, loading her revolver again.
"Oh, I like the saloon well enough." The stranger told her as she took up position, putting her revolver in her holster. She drew again, firing off, but this time she only managed three. She swore loudly as she realised that rather than improving she was actually getting worse. "But they don't have entertainment. The piano player is off with the Sheriff and his posse, so I have to entertain myself."
"Well entertain yourself somewhere else!" She yelled. The man just laughed and shook his head. "Somethin' funny mister?"
"Oh, I was just thinkin' how in all my time I've seen so many young, angry people tryin' to learn to shoot." He chuckled. By now he was really pissing Sadie off. She knew she was messed up, she didn't need someone mocking her to tell her that, and she knew if she ran into Micah like this, that things would end just as badly as before. The red mist was rising in her, but as much as she wanted to punch the old man's teeth out, he was exactly that. Just a harmless old man whose opinion didn't matter a damn. She took her belongings and stormed away, leaving him to his bourbon as she went back to her room.
Back in the present, Levin was distracted as he heard a commotion from outside.
"She did it, she brought in Shane Finley!" One of the patrons yelled. Levin and the others ran to the window in time to see Sadie riding past hem with a man tied to the back of her horse. She was riding with another man, a tall, thin man, though not exactly lacking in muscle. He was dressed and looked a lot like a rancher, but something about his build didn't exactly give Levin the impression he came by it by herding cattle. He didn't get a good look at the man's face, but he presumed that this was the friend Sadie had been here to meet.
Levin considered going to greet Sadie, but she had a look about her that was all business. He knew that she was all business when it came to bounties. She didn't want to deal with anything else until the bounty was safely delivered to the police station. He'd read a few articles about Finley, but he had no idea Sadie was looking for him. He did see her nod in his direction though, she must have noticed him there. She would indeed catch up with him.
He went back to his table and continued to read.
Sadie was just in her room above the saloon, cleaning up after a long day of working to get her form back when she heard a cry going up from outside, accompanied by a thunder of hooves. She ran to her window in time to see Sheriff Freeman and his latest posse coming back. There were less of them than had left on the latest trip to Gaptooth Breach, and one or two of them looked like they were badly injured, barely able to stay on their horses. Freeman himself looked like he had taken a shot in the arm, and was bleeding heavily. He leapt off his horse, before helping drag another man down off his horse.
"Get these men to the doctor, NOW!" He roared as he handed the man off to a passer-by, before pulling out his revolver. "I need every man, woman and child who can carry a gun on the street right now!"
A lot could be said about the residents of Tumbleweed, but one thing that couldn't was that they weren't ready to defend what was theirs, what little there was. Sadie had barely even strapped on her own gun belt before there were half a dozen people in the street, ready to help Freeman. It wasn't a moment too soon either. Soon it was obvious why the otherwise unflappable Sheriff Freeman was in a panic. The posse had been ambushed, that much was clear, but it looked like the Del Lobos weren't done, and had pursued them back to town. Smelling blood in the water, they had gone after Freeman when he was already down a couple of deputies and injured himself. Normally they'd never be so brazen as to attack the town, but right now, they knew it was weakened.
She wished she had more time to get back to full health, but they weren't going to wait that long. She headed downstairs, positioning herself by the door as the firefight began. The Del Lobos rode straight into the middle of the town with the kind of balls that normally they'd never show. Freeman and his hastily-assembled militia were quickly being driven back into hiding by a heavily-armed and ruthlessly emboldened enemy.
Sadie ran out into the street, but quickly found herself having to dive for cover, realising her mistake. Splinters flew from the barrel she hid behind as she tried to compose herself. She couldn't tell if she'd even managed to hit any of the bastards as she fired while she ran. The leader held up his hand, gesturing his men to stop firing.
"Sheriff Freeman, this can end now! No one else has to die today!" He called out. "You have something of mine. Some employees."
"There's no way in hell I'm sending people back to be your slaves Cortez!" Freeman declared. Cortez just laughed.
"I don't think you're in much of a position to refuse." Cortez stated. "You see, I've got a dozen very bad men with me and right now, it looks like you got some scared farmers and a couple of women. Send them back to me, including that bitch that killed my men and we'll be out of here like this never happened!"
Sadie looked over to Freeman, wondering if he was considering the offer. It sounded reasonable enough that someone with enough of a survival instinct would consider it. Of course, it relied on Cortez keeping his word, and Freeman and his deputies had been a significant thorn in the Del Lobo's side for years. They had never had such an opportunity to get rid of Freeman, it wouldn't be beyond them to turn around and renege on their own deal.
"You think I believe one word from that forked tongue of yours?" Freeman barked back. Sadie smiled. She should never have doubted his courage. He would sooner die himself than betray the people of his town. Tumbleweed might have been a shithole in the ass end of the desert, but it was HIS shithole, and anyone wanting to take it from Sam Freeman was going to do so over his cold, stiff corpse! "You get nothing!"
"Then you leave me no…"
"Hey, now what the hell is going on here?" A voice rang out. Everyone turned to see a man standing, leaning on one of the railings outside the saloon. He lit up a cigarette and looked out over them. Sadie strained her eyes to see in the dark. It was the old man who had been watching her shoot. "I was in that there saloon tryin' to have a whiskey in peace and all I hear is everyone out here hollerin' their heads off. I thought there were laws against disturbing the peace!"
"Go back inside old man." Cortez warned him. "This is none of your business!"
"Well, when one of your stray bullets went through that window there and smashed a perfectly good bottle of whiskey that I've paid good money for, it became my business." The stranger said. "You, sir, or one of your boys, owes me a bottle of whiskey."
Sadie just looked to him in disbelief. The Del Lobo Gang was shooting up the town and he was complaining about whiskey?
"Shit happens old man, consider it gone and go back inside if you know what's good for you!" Cortez warned him again. The man just smiled and got up off the railing, beginning to walk into the middle of the street, while everyone watched him.
"What the fuck is he doing?" Sadie asked herself. "Mister, get your ass out the street! You're gonna get yourself killed!"
"I appreciate the concern miss, but I think I'll be just fine." The man said, standing before the assembled Del Lobos. He looked from left to right, sizing them all up. "So, here's how I figure this ends. One of you pays me for my whiskey and you all just ride on out of here and we'll say no more about it."
Sadie checked her gun, making sure it was loaded. She had no idea how much this guy had been drinking, but he was talking his way into a pine box. Cortez and his men just started laughing.
"Old timer, you are funny!" He told him. "It's a shame we'll have to kill you."
"You're very welcome to try." He replied. Then before anyone knew what was happening, he had whipped back his jacket and pulled out a revolver, fanning the hammer and rattling off all six rounds at incredible speed. It was the fastest Sadie had ever seen anyone move in her entire life. She'd barely seen him move his coat and already Del Lobos were sliding off their horses.
He ran to the side as they finally realised the danger they were in, and quicker than a hiccup, he had another revolver in his hand. More of Cortez's men fell. Cortez himself was already spurring his horse on to ride on out of Tumbleweed. Seeing the Del Lobos in retreat, Freeman and his few brave citizens broke cover to fire on them as they rode away. By the time Cortez was out of range, the rest of his boys were dead. The old stranger just sighed as he put away his guns.
"Damn, I hate gettin' old." He muttered. "In my younger days, I'd have got him too."
"Sir, the town of Tumbleweed owes you a great debt." Freeman said gratefully. "Barkeep! Get this man as much whiskey as he wants on me!"
As the citizens started to leave, to get their injured tended to, Sadie just walked up to the stranger, who was lighting up another cigarette.
"How the hell did you do that?" She asked him. "You should be so full of lead they could call you a pencil!"
"I have seen much better and much scarier men than that in my time miss." He answered with a smile. "It takes more than a gun to be a gunslinger. Now, if you excuse me I need to make the most of the Sheriff's kind offer before he changes his mind."
"That…that was the fastest damn thing I ever seen." She continued in shock, following him as he walked back towards the saloon. "You'd shot six men before I even saw the gun!"
"Miss, when you practice enough at something, you get real good at it." He stated. "Unless you hit a slump, like you have…unfortunately a slump when you're talking about guns usually ends with you in a graveyard so…I'd try to get over that pretty quick."
Sadie just stood, completely aghast as he started to walk away. Micah Bell had been one of the best gunslingers she'd ever seen. Right now she was nowhere near a match for him. Hell, she was starting to wonder if she had been before. She took a deep breath.
"Show me how!" She called out. The stranger stopped, turned back towards her and cocked his head to the side.
"You're Adler ain't you?" He asked. "The lady bounty hunter that's after Micah Bell in the worst way."
"Yeah, that's me." She told him. "So, are you gonna help me?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he just turned away and started to walk back towards the saloon. Sadie was enraged by his dismissal. She pulled out her revolver, cocking the hammer. He stopped dead as soon as he heard it.
"Now, why would you want to go and do a fool thing like that?" He asked.
"You gonna show me how to shoot like you?" She asked him.
"Or what?" He asked her. "I saw you earlier, safest place with you at the moment is in front of your gun."
"That's real funny mister, now are you gonna teach me or not?"
"You're not gonna shoot me." He told her.
"You have no idea what I'm capable of…what I've already done!" She growled. "I'm gonna put Micah Bell in the ground if I have to shove my fist so far down his throat he chokes on it, whether you help me or not, so you help me or…"
"I admire the passion but I didn't get to live to be old as I am on anger." The man said, turning towards her and walking towards her. "I didn't live as long as I have because I always hit what I aim at."
"You stop right there mister."
"I didn't get to live this long by being fast."
"Stop right there…"
"I also didn't live this long by shooting at everything in front of me." He told her. "You rush in without thinking, that's how you end up dead! That's what cost you before! You can't out-shoot someone, you gotta out-think 'em."
"I'm warning you, you stop right there!" She yelled.
"That's how I know you're not gonna shoot me." He told her as he was almost right on top of her. "Not because I doubt you've got it in you to pull the trigger…"
CLICK
Sadie stared at the gun. The chamber was empty. She'd fired off all her shots in the fire fight.
"But because I can count to six." He concluded. He took a long drag of his cigarette. "So, you want to put Micah Bell in the ground?"
"I ain't afraid to die!" Sadie blurted out. The man just nodded.
"Of that I have no doubt." He replied, extending a hand to her. "The name's Landon Ricketts. I'll show you all I know, if you're not too proud."
Landon Ricketts. Sadie had heard the name. He was at the Blackwater Massacre. He was one of the few survivors. He was also known as one of the greatest gunslingers that ever lived. There were cigarette cards dedicated to him, but little was known beyond folklore and campfire tales. Much was written, but little by anyone that actually knew the man. He was not one of the gunslingers that sought fame, he had disappeared shortly after Blackwater, and no one seemed to mention him again. Many believed he had died, yet having seen what he did, Sadie was sure, this was the legend himself standing right before him. She took his hand, shaking it.
Levin was disappointed that he had reached the end of her notes. No doubt he would hear more from her when she returned from the police station. He was packing up, and headed to the bar to get a nightcap to go to bed when a man walked in. He recognised his clothes, it was the man who was travelling with Sadie.
"Bottle of whiskey." He told the bartender. "So, my hands been behavin' themselves?"
"We had a little fuss with one of them." The bartender told him.
"I bet I know which one too." He sighed, taking the bottle. Levin looked to the man.
"Excuse me sir, you were with Mrs Adler?" Levin asked. The man just looked to him.
"Yeah, I kind of work with her on occasion." He told him. "Sorry, Mr…?"
"Levin." He introduced himself the man lifted his hat, letting Levin get a good look at his face. He had a deep, pronounced scar, claw marks running the length of his face. He shook Levin's hand.
"Right, she talked about you a little. You're writing a book or somethin'?" He asked.
"Well, yes I am!" Levin replied.
"I'm sorry to say Mr Levin, but I ain't much of a reader." He answered as he raised the bottle. "Anyway, my hands have been without supervision far too long. Nice to meet you."
As he walked away, Levin ordered his drink, picking it up and heading towards his room. He wanted to be fresh to hear what Sadie could tell him next when he saw her the following morning. As he was about to go up the stairs though, he suddenly stopped as a thought occurred to him. He turned towards the door, where the stranger had just left. An associate of Sadie's? Distinctive facial scar?
"No…it couldn't be, could it?" He asked. He then shook his head. Sadie had given a lot of herself to him in telling her tale, and he didn't want her to regret that. He knew that at times, even a man with his curiosity had to know when to just not ask questions.
