Chapter 1: The Bloodhounds

"We are rough men... used to rough ways." ~Bob Younger

Outskirts of Antelope City

Darkness controlled the quiet expanse of land, as the full moon peaked its face from behind the clouds; hanging like a luminous pearl in the heavens, its silver light radiating the quiet plains below. The starry sky was masked from view by the same barrier that threatened to extinguish the moonlight. Below on the earth, a quiet breeze wafted through dry brushes of grass as a dirt road coiled through the fields like a slithering snake. The road widened as it escaped from the confines of the grass and entered the broken waste of the desert. All was still and all was quiet.

A well-dressed wolf sat upon his horse, his silver eyes reflecting the light of the moon. He was strong and sinewy, and his fur was colored that matched the brown desert. A long jagged scar ran from the base of his ear to the tip of his jawline, an injury inflicted by an old enemy. The wolf smiled at the memory. Once he got rid of the doddering fool, the world was ripe for the taking! After he healed from his injuries, he and his crew started laying the groundwork for their plans to become rich.

The horse took a nervous step backwards, snapping the lupine out of his memory. He leaned down and patted the animal, providing words of comfort. As the horse stopped its jitters, he sat back up, hitched up his belt, two colt peacemakers hitting against his black dress pants. He sighed, took off his dark brown, wide-brimmed hat with golden inlays that circled the headwear, and placed it in front of him on the saddle.

His ears twitched around appreciatively, as the calm breeze provided coolness. He felt his red bandanna move around his neck, as the wind threatened to move it out of place. The wolf exhaled quietly as he waited for the last glow of the lamp to disappear from the town in front of him. Several minutes passed, and the glow disappeared, causing the sleepy town to be enveloped in darkness.

He smiled. So far, the plan had gone off without a hitch. Soon, he and his crew would be inside the town, and out before anyone knew what had happened. The tricky part was waiting for the saloon to close, as it depended on when the last customer was over for the night. Fortunately for him, the saloon had closed earlier than expected, as demonstrated by the extinguished glow. The wolf looked up in the night sky, and judged the moon's position. He nodded slowly and brought his attention back down to the town. He stretched his neck, moving it slightly to the right, then back to the left. Finally, the lupine slowly reached down with his left paw and pulled out his pistol. Out of habit, the lupine opened the cylinder of his weapon, and checked to make sure that it was loaded. After he was satisfied, he gave it a quick flick of his wrist, and the cylinder snapped shut inside his gun.

After holstering his favorite weapon, the wolf gave a loud whistle and within a few minutes, the quiet night was interrupted by the thundering noise of hooves. Soon, five other riders appeared next to him, not one saying a word. The wolf looked next to him, at another lupine, this one silver furred, and murmured "Are we ready to go?"

"Yes, boss."

The leader nodded, picked up his hat and placed it back on his head. "In and out. I do not want any witnesses. Meet me back at the rendezvous point."

"Yes, boss."

"And Charlie?"

"Boss?"

"Any one of you boys get caught by the law out there… you are no use to me. Understand?"

The lupine swallowed anxiously. He knew the extreme lengths his boss would take to ensure the silence of others. He nodded slowly, his apprehension clearly visible. "I won't let you down, boss."

The leader smiled, as he reached out and patted the younger wolf on the shoulder. "I know you won't." He paused as he looked back up at the night sky. The moon was disappearing behind the cover of the clouds. The wolf looked back Charlie and gave a frightening smile. "Go get 'em."

Charlie nodded and urged his horse forward. As he rode, the other gang members broke rank and followed the wolf in a V-formation, kicking up a cloud of dust. The wolf smiled to himself, as he wheeled his horse around and urged it into a trot. This was going to be a good night.

As Charlie urged his horse to gallop, he was aware the remaining wolves of the crew was behind him. When they arrived at the sleepy town, the wolf ordered stop their riding, and to get off the horses. As they did, they took the lead rope of their own horses, and led them into town, walking through the empty streets. The gang moved stealthily, one paw gripping the horse lead and the other, lightly touching the pistol that was holstered on their side. They made a beeline towards their destination – the Antelope City Bank.

The guard on duty, a leopard, was an independent contractor, not affiliated with the sheriff of Antelope City. Instead, he was a simple farmer that had been approached by the bank and had been promised insurmountable of money each year to protect the building and its contents by serving as a night guard. The farmer jumped on the opportunity immediately, and armed with only a rifle, showed up at the bank every night for the past six months.

At first, he was attentive, jumping at every small sound, wondering if it was intruders. But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, the guard relaxed, realizing that the town was quiet at nights as nothing of importance ever happened. It was there, at his desk, he was cleaning his prized possession, a Springfield rifle, which never left his side. On his desk, next to the cleaning kit, an overturned book laid, a result of his attempts to teach himself to read during the quiet, boring nights.

A creaking noise was heard, and the guard stopped his cleaning momentarily. He looked up from his work and across the room to the door, and saw that it remained closed. The leopard sighed and continued his work. As he continued, the creaking noise broke the silence, louder than before, and the guard ignored it, attributing it to the wind. After he finished polishing his gun, the leopard smiled, as he saw his own face reflecting from the smooth barrel.

The guard fell sideways, his smile still transfixed on his face, as blood poured out of his throat and collected into a small pool. His blue eyes clouded with death, as the leopard thudded against the floor, his head focused upon the opened door of the bank.

The wolf stood behind him, wiping the blood off his knife against the leopard's clothes. After he was done, he looked up and gave another small whistle. The remaining four wolves moved quietly into the bank, all donned with cowboy hats, bandanas and several large wooden crates. Charlie looked at the dead guard and back at his killer and smiled approvingly, "Good work, Dagger," he whispered as he turned his attention back to the prize – a steel vault.

"Alright, according to boss, the bank manager has a memory of a rat. So look for anything, a book, a piece of paper with the combination for the vault. Dagger, take Victor and Minho, and check the dressers." Charlie ordered, pointing to the bank teller stations. "I'll take Ruben and check the manager's office. As the three lupines did his bidding, Charlie and the remaining wolf, Ruben, moved out of the room, into a small hallway and opened a door. They were greeted with a small room with a single desk and a small candle. Moving to the desk, Charlie threw open the drawers, riffling through the stacks of papers. He was aware that Ruben was on the other side doing the same. After a several minutes, Ruben whispered, "I think I found it."

Charlie smiled through his bandana and snatched the paper from the wolf's hand. After scanning the contents of the paper, he nodded. After several seconds, they moved passed the tellers' station and into a small room, with the giant steel vault. He spun around and whispered, "Minho. You're a better shot. Stay in the lobby and keep an eye out."

The white furred wolf did what he was told and left the room, holding his pistol up. Charlie turned back to the vault, handed the paper to Dagger and gripped the giant knob. He leaned in, his ear feeling the cold metal of the vault as he moved the knob.

"24…" Dagger whispered.

As the lupine moved the knob to the number, he was greeted with a faint click as the tumbler inside the lock moved.

"32…"

Another click.

"2…"

A third and final click was heard as the lock unlatched. The lupine smiled with victory as he took a step back. Reaching up to the giant handles, the wolf gave it a tough tug and it spun, releasing the latch and the door opened.

"Good work boys!" Charlie whispered exuberantly. Without a word, the four wolves entered the vault and got to work.

Charlie was placing the last golden bar, minted by the Zootopian government, when he heard a gunshot. The four wolves looked at each other, and seamlessly turned around and left the vault. Charlie did not even attempt to close the door, as he rushed through the bank and into the lobby, his pistol in paw, and a handle of the wooden crate, laden with golden bars, in the other. As the wolf arrived at the scene, he found Minho standing over a dead body of an elk, a bullet in his heart.

"Minho!"

"He walked in on me!" Minho shot back. "Boss says no witnesses!"

Charlie swore to himself and hurried outside. He could already see lanterns being lit and moving, a clear sign of the waking townspeople. The lupine turned around and started clambering on his horse. He had placed his feet into the stirrup, when the first animal stepped out of his house from across the street, armed with a rifle. Charlie raised his pistol, and took aim.

Dagger beat him to it. He had grabbed the rolling block rifle from the dead leopard, took aim and fired. The bullet sailed through the air and smashed into the stranger's head, and he fell without a sound. A scream of despair was heard from inside the house as the door opened and a woman ran outside, and shook the body of her dead husband.

The remaining wolves hurriedly jumped on their horses, and sharing the burden of the boxes between them, wheeled around, and galloped out of town, whooping and firing their weapons in the air.

The calm night of Antelope City was shattered by the piercing wails of the screaming woman, as the town woke up.

(/)

Bull Run

This is a letter written by Sheriff Robert Gordon of Antelope City, addressed to Sheriff Bogo of Bull Run.

June 15, 1825

Sheriff Bogo,

I write this letter to you, as both a Sheriff and a Friend. I've had the misfortune to report this news to you, as Antelope City's Bank has been hit by, who we believe to be Bucky Callahan and the Bloodhounds. Witnesses say that they saw a lupine matching the description of a Charlie Vane, Bucky's number one man, heading in your direction. I know Bull Run and Antelope City is several days ride apart, but please, be vigilant.

Since the Bloodhounds are in your jurisdiction, I am afraid that I will not be of use. But please know, that if you need anything, do not hesitate to write.

I remain your faithful friend and brother,

Robert Gordon.

Sheriff Bogo sighed as he reread the letter. After he finished, Bogo crumbled the letter angrily in his right paw and stood up suddenly, knocking his chair over. His deputies, a fat cheetah and a small antelope looked up quickly, startled. Bogo strode around from his desk and looked sadly at the empty cells of his one room sheriff building. The Cape buffalo shook his head, and threw the letter into a small tin can that was located next to his desk. He sighed and shook his head, slamming his fists on the desk with despair.

The fat cheetah nervously cleared his throat, "You okay, there Sherriff?"

"What do you think, Clawhauser?" Bogo snapped, as he whirled around. Gesturing to the outside, the buffalo continued, "The Bloodhounds came into my city and caused terror among my people! They killed good citizens and robbed the bank… and I…. I couldn't do anything."

Bogo sighed as he slowly sank down to the ground. Running his hand through his fur on his head, the sheriff spoke, "I have worked this town for far too long. But with every scum that I put away, two more seem to take their place. And now with Callahan and his Bloodhounds in the mix, no one can stop him." The sheriff shook his head sadly. His town was not the same as his childhood, for as it got larger, it attracted more criminals, and now he felt out of his league.

Deputy Clawhauser cleared his throat again and spoke up, "Well, I know of one person that could help us."

Bogo looked up at the cheetah and understanding what he meant, the Cape buffalo shook his head. "There's no way she would agree."

"We have to try."

After giving thought of the matter for several minutes, he nodded. "Alright," he said, "You and I will go talk to her. Pack up your things. It's a couple of days to the farm." He turned to the antelope and fished out the keys from his belt. Tossing the keys to his deputy, the sheriff spoke, "Keep an eye on the fort, you hear me?"

The antelope nodded silently, and resumed his to his pistol.

Clawhauser huffed and turned around. He walked to a pole, picked his hat and placed it on his head. "I'll be back," he called out behind him, as he pushed the door open. Bogo nodded and moved around to the desk. He picked up his chair and sat in it. He leaned backwards and placed his feet on the desk and smiled. The sheriff was feeling happy for the first time in a long time.