Chapter 2: Dead Ends in End of the Line

The wooden structure seemed ancient, yet, despite its sloping and slanted walls, it appeared to harbor an inner strength that would keep it standing long after many of its neighbors had succumbed to the endless heat and wind. A darkness seemed to radiate from inside even though it was standing in the direct path of the relentless sun; an internal shadow too strong for even the desert sun to pierce, but Ciel barely seemed to notice such things as he silently stared at the sign which had been painted with bold, black strokes. "Undertaker," the sign read simply, but that was enough for everyone to know what lay beyond that door.

With a determined step, Ciel walked over to the door and knocked on it briefly before opening it. "I'm coming in," he announced, although a warped bell above the door also sounded his arrival. The clapper hit the dented sides so that its ring sounded more like a choked and garbled cry than a proper clang.

Inside, the darkness was more pronounced as if it was the only living being in this house of death. The sunlight filtered through the doorway only to be swallowed by the dark, but the little it did reveal only caused uneasiness to rise. Spider webs hung from the rafters, laminated by accumulated dust so the webs were a dingy, brown color instead of white or grey. Jars were nestled upon shelves and the meager light dancing off the glass surfaces gave the appearance the containers were filled with fluids and other indistinct shapes that were quite possibly confiscated organs. Coffins were scattered about the room in various shapes and sizes as a foul, unrecognizable scent filled the air. Ciel's hand twisted near his pocket, as if he wished to retrieve his handkerchief once more, but then he paused suddenly in an apparent attempt not to show weakness. "Undertaker?" he called, stepping inside with Sebastian close behind.

A strange, hoarse chuckle twisted about the shop and seemed to emanate from every corner simultaneously. "A new customer," announced a peculiar voice, "Are you here to be fitted for one of my special coffins perhaps?" The lid to an upright coffin slid back slowly revealing a rather tall man with long, platinum hair. He stepped forward and regarded the boy with a strange smile. His slender frame, which swayed as he moved as small tree in the wind, was swathed in a black robe, decorated by a string of funerary beads, and a tall hat planted firmly on his head furthered his already lengthy image. His shiny hair, which shown despite the gloom, was rather long in front and covered his eyes so it was a wonder that he could see. Adding to the mysterious image was raised scar curved about his face and twisted beneath the thick fringe of banes. His smile grew as he stepped forward and tilted his head.

"Aren't you a sight," he said to Ciel, "It's been quite some time, although I would recognize you anywhere. You rather look like your father, although I see a bit of your mother about the eyes. What can I do for you, young Ciel? I have some coffins here that would suit you perfectly."

Ciel's posture became stiff with all this talk of coffins as well as the mention of his late parents. "I've come for information," he said, "As I understand, my father used to come to you quite frequently, and you've even been a guest at the ranch."

"That's true. So, you wish for some information from old Undertaker, do you boy? Then, the rumors are true. You have come and taken your father's old profession or should I say professions." He gave another of his long chuckles as he brought his hands up close to his face. The sleeves fell back as he wiggled his fingers, revealing rather long, black nails and the shimmer of a large emerald ring. Another jagged scar, much like the one on his neck encircled one finger like a second ring "Do you remember my price?" Undertaker asked.

"I don't remember the specifics," Ciel replied, "but name your price. I'm sure it will not be an issue as money is not a concern." He started to motion to Sebastian to produce his purse, but Undertaker held up one of his long fingers to stop him.

"I have no desire for coin or paper money," he said, "What I want is far more valuable than that." He threw his arms opened wide as the smile of a madman lit up a complexion made dull, no doubt, by his time in this dark, shadowy building. "All I require is a first rate laugh. That is finer to me than all the gold in these hills."

"A laugh?" Ciel asked, a look of surprise clearly painted on his features, "You must be joking?"

"I'm not joking," Undertaker replied, "but if you want any information from me, then you best be soon."

Ciel's mouth opened and closed a few times like a fish desperately trying to breathe on land, but he hadn't managed to actually say anything. Seeing his obvious distress, Sebastian stepped forward. "With your permission, master," he said, "I'll take care of this. Please, step outside for a moment."

The boy straightened his already wrinkle free jacket. "Very good, Sebastian," he said, "I'll leave this matter to you." With a false calmness, he walked back outside and allowed the dark door to shut firmly behind him. He stood for a few minutes in the scorching sun as the eyes of the town bore down on his small form, but he didn't flinch of shift uncomfortably. Finally, a loud peal of laughter erupted from inside and Sebastian opened the door.

"You can come inside now," Sebastian said with a satisfied smile. Behind him, Undertaker was leaned over two coffins that had been stacked on top of one another to create a makeshift counter and was slapping the surface as he continued to laugh. "He forgot he was riding the mare!" he shrieked as tears streamed down his pale face.

"You've gotten your laugh, Undertaker," Ciel stated, as he stepped closer to the still laughing man, "Now, we need information."

"And what is it you need to know?" Undertaker managed to ask between ripples of insane laughter.

"Have there been any unusual deaths in End of the Line recently?" questioned Ciel, "More specifically have any women had their arms or legs cut off?"

"Oh, there's no shortage of unusual deaths," Undertaker announced, straightening up as he twisted his long fingers about one another, "People will always find interesting ways to end their lives. As to your second question, however, all of my clients have been whole – more or less. Such a shame too. It might be interesting to have some broken dolly that needed to be stitched together again."

Ciel frowned as his face twitched with disgust. "This has been a waste of time," he mumbled, as he turned and headed towards the door.

"But there was one unfortunate lass," Undertaker added, "one of the young ladies from the China Saloon, I believe, that did have a rather nasty cut on her arm. It was almost like someone had cut the poor dear's arm off." He chuckled again and it seemed that he didn't think the girl was a 'poor dear' as much as he had let on.

"When was this?" Ciel demanded, whirling back around.

The man leaned his head back as if searching for the answer in the dusty rafters for an answer. "About two weeks, I suppose," he finally answered, "She was quite lively, and she squirmed dreadfully when I was stitching her wound. I prefer my clients to be a bit more still. It seems I'm the closest this town has to a doctor, since…" He allowed his voice to drift off as his smile never wavered.

Ciel's mouth clenched and his fist tightened. When he spoke, his voice was measured as if he was doing his best to control his emotions. "Is this woman still working for Mr. Lau?" he asked.

Undertaker shrugged nonchalantly as he retrieved what one could only assume was a bone shaped cookie from a nearby urn. "I don't rightly know," he said, chomping into the cookie and chewing as he spoke, "I've never been to that establishment, although I can say that this dear girl hasn't returned, so it safe to assume she's still alive."

"Do all the dead of this town pass through here?" questioned Ciel.

"You could say I have the best business in town," answered Undertaker with a smile as he finished his treat, "Everyone here has need for my services at some point."

Ciel seemed to consider this for a moment before he finally nodded. "I see," he finally said before turning to Sebastian. "I suppose that we should speak with Mr. Lau now."

"Yes, my lord," Sebastian responded with a slight bow. He walked over and opened the door for the boy but, just as he was about to cross back out into the blinding sun, Undertaker called out to him.

"Just remember," Undertaker began, "you can't promise things that don't belong to you. When you have a borrowed gift, watch over it carefully."

Whirling about, Ciel stared at Undertaker with a dark frown. "What the devil does that mean?" he asked.

Undertaker shrugged as he took another bite of the cookie. It was obvious that he was going to say all he was concerning the matter, and Ciel's frown only darkened. "I don't have time for this," he growled, "Come on Sebastian."

The sun hit them like a physical force, but Ciel seemed to barely notice as he boldly made his way to Lau's saloon. A few drunks on the outside porch looked up as he walked to the door, but no one made any move to stop the boy from entering. Inside, the smoke hung like a cloying banner, and Ciel coughed despite his efforts to the contrary. No one else seemed to notice the smoke as men laughed and drank, only occasionally pausing to paw at the attractive women in brightly colored, revealing outfits that weaved through the crowd. Mr. Lau was standing behind the bar with Ran-Mao still at his side. The same smile as before was painted on his carefree face, but he was holding his hands up in front of him and shaking his head to a man who was standing in front of him across the bar. As Ciel approached, he studied the man although he had not seen him before. His shaggy, auburn hair was tucked under a large, brown hat with a wide brim, but his blue eyes seemed more than a little desperate.

"I…WAS…ASKING…ABOUT…ILLEGAL…SUBSTANCES," the man practically shouted. He was saying each word slowly and as clearly as possible. As he moved, becoming animated with his words, his deputy badge winked in the dim light.

Lau shook his head again, but then he turned towards Ciel. "Oh, I thought I might see you again," he said, "Isn't that right, Ran-Mao?"

"I need to ask you about one of your…employees that was injured," Ciel announced.

"Just as I would have guessed," Lau replied, "Please, come with me to a more private room."

"Wait!" the deputy screamed, "You speak English?! I thought you couldn't. Why were you acting like you couldn't understand me."

Lau smiled casually and motioned with his hands. Suddenly, several of the women flocked to him like birds with brightly colored plumage. They surrounded the hapless deputy, who seemed a bit overwhelmed by the attention. "Keep Deputy Abberline company," Lau instructed, "We don't want our dear deputy to be lonely while I take care of other business." With this taken care of, Lau led Ciel and Sebastian to a locked room in the back of the saloon. Unlike the rest of the building, this room was clear and intricately decorated. "So, you came back," Lau said, as he relaxed on a couch and Ran-Mao took her appointed place by his side.

"No games this time, Lau," Ciel stated without preamble, "I need to ask you about one of your girls that was injured recently."

"When have I ever played games?" Lau replied with mock innocence. When Ciel didn't respond, Lau simply regarded him with a tilt of the head. "So you need to know something about one of the ladies here?"

"Yes," Ciel confirmed, "Undertaker said that one of the women here had her arm almost cut off. Who did that?"

Lau's expression didn't change. "Something like that did happen recently," he admitted, "but I'm afraid I don't know anything about the culprit other than that it was another woman and that she had come here looking for employment. Tell me, young Ciel, why does this matter interest you?"

"It doesn't matter," Ciel said, bristling under the questioning, "Do you know where I might find this woman?"

Running his hand over Ran-Mao's thigh, Lau shook his head. "I'm afraid I have no idea," he answered, although there was something in his tone that seemed to indicate he knew more than he was saying.

Ciel stood there for a moment, but then he sighed loudly. "Come on, Sebastian," he said in a heavy tone.

"Come back anytime you wish," Lau said, continuing to pet Ran-Mao's thigh as if she were a cat, "We'll be here."

Without pausing, Ciel hurried back through the saloon, holding his breath so that he didn't have to breathe in the smoke. As he stepped outside, he sighed heavily in the oppressive heat.

"You there!" a voice shouted. Turning, Ciel saw the deputy he had noticed before inside the saloon hurrying towards him. "Did you have business with Mr. Lau?" he asked.

"I did but it's been concluded," Ciel replied icily.

The deputy smiled, as he rearranged his wide-brimmed hat. "I'm Deputy Abberline," he announced, "So do you know Mr. Lau?"

"In a way," Ciel mumbled as he turned to walk away.

"So he does speak English?" Abberline asked desperately.

"You heard him," Ciel answered, but then he paused. "You say you're the deputy of this town. Do you know anything about an attack on one of the women working in Lau's saloon a couple of weeks ago?"

"Well, I know a little about it, but I can't give you the details," Abberline replied, "You'll have to ask the sheriff, but he's out of town at the moment." As he spoke, the deputy took a few steps back but he tripped off the edge of the porch. He twisted dramatically as he fell in an almost graceful fashion before landing face first into a pile of manure on the edge of the dirt road.

"Pathetic," Ciel mumbled as he turned and walked away.

"I'm rather surprised this town is still standing," Sebastian mused, "Considering who seems to be running it. So, what do wish to do now?"

"I don't know," admitted Ciel as he rubbed his temples, "This entire trip has been a waste. No one here knows anything."

"I'm not so sure about that," Sebastian answered cryptically.

Ciel shot his butler a fiery look. "You've figured something out, haven't you?" he demanded.

Sebastian smiled in response.

((x))

Grell looked out over the Phantomhive Ranch and let out a whistle of appreciation. She knew he shouldn't be shocked by anything, but she couldn't help but appreciate how quickly this place had been brought back to its former glory. Only a short time ago, she had been out here and seen these place was nothing more than some charred lumber with one wall that leaned at precarious angle. Now, it looked better than she had even remembered. As she was standing near one of the corals, however, she could have done without the smell.

"Hey you!" a voice called, "What are you doing here?"

Turning, Grell saw a young man with blonde hair and green eyes hurrying her way. Immediately adopting a humble stance, she bowed her head slightly as he approached. "I was just here to look at the legendary Phantomhive cattle," she said quickly, as she, "I represent an agency that deals with both buying and selling of herds. Do you know if there's any interest in selling any of these fine animals?" Although she hated to be in such a plain form and wearing the slacks that William had insisted upon, at least her appearance wouldn't rouse any unnecessary suspicion.

The young man shook his head. "I don't think I heard Mr. Phantomhive talking about selling any cows or bulls," he said, "and that's a good thing. Cows are such gentle animals you know." With a bright small, he jumped on the railing about the coral, and several of the aforementioned animals came up to him for attention. "I've named all of them," he announced, "This one here is Betty, and that Gertrude, and over there is Josephine. Aren't those fine names for cows?"

Grell usually preferred to call cows dinner, but didn't say anything directly. "Is this Mr. Phantomhive home at the moment?" she asked.

"Not right now," replied the young blonde, "but he should be home soon."

Almost as if on cue, a coach began rattling up to the ranch. Grell started to make a quick exit just in case Sebastian might see through her drag disguise, but she quickly saw that this wasn't the Phantomhive coach. Along with the boy, she followed as the other servants to the front of the house. Although they cast her strange looks, no one said anything as they waited for the coach to be pulled to a stop.

The door floor opened and a blonde girl in an elaborate red and white dress jumped out. "Oh Ciel! I'm here!" She started running towards the house.

"Elizabeth," a woman who looked enough like the girl to guess they were mother and daughter, "A lady shouldn't be running and jumping like that."

"I'm sorry, Mama," Elizabeth apologized as she stopped, however it was obvious that she wanted to run inside as quickly as possible.

The woman looked over the servants in a rather disagreeable fashion. "So where is my young nephew and that disgraceful slob he calls a butler?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Frances," apologized the maid, "He went into town, but he should be getting back any minute."

"I see," Frances said in a disagreeable tone. Her eyes narrowed when her gaze fell upon Grell. "And who are you? I don't remember seeing you before."

"He was just looking at the cattle," offered the young man Grell had spoken with before.

"Is that so," Frances said, "And what is your name Mr..."

Grell winced inwardly at the mister, but had an answer ready. "Gean Scarlett," she answered quickly, "I was just here to see if Mr. Phantomhive wanted to buy or sell any cattle, but I'll just come back at a later time." Before anyone could object, she hurried down the road. Her keen ears had already picked up on a second coach heading this way, and she was fairly certain that this one would be Ciel and Sebastian. It probably would be best to make her exit now.

It was hard to find a place to hide in the flat expanse of the desert, but she did find a tall rock to duck behind. Once out of sight, she made a portal so she could return to the bank unseen. She had much to tell William.

A/N: I chose the name Gean Scarlett since it had the same initials as Grell Sutcliff. Gean is spelled in that manner so that it's a combination of the typically masculine spelling of Gene and the usual feminine version of Jean. The joke that Sebastian tells Undertaker goes like this:

A cowboy is riding the trails one spring day when he comes across a rattlesnake sunning itself in the narrow mountain path. The cowboy pulls out his gun to shoot the snake, but the rattlesnake suddenly says, "Don't shoot! You see, I'm a magic snake and, if you let me live, I'll grant you three wishes. The cowboy figures he doesn't have much to lose since he's out of range for the snake to strike, so he agrees. He wishes for a face more handsome than the most handsome man, a strong, masculine body rippling with muscles, and the sexual equipment like the horse he was riding. The snake agrees and tells the cowboy he'll have all three when he gets to the bunkhouse. The cowboy rides back to the bunkhouse quickly and immediately goes to the mirror. He sees a very handsome face looking back at him. Ripping his shirt off, he sees his body is very muscular and strong. Excited, he pulls down his pants, but then he screams, "Oh no! I forgot I was riding the mare!"