Old Man River

The summer sun had just set in St. Louis, and with it came the chill of the night air throughout the river bottomlands. This was the third night in a row now that Mordecai was stuck out in some cemetery on the west bank of the Mississippi under orders from Asa. So far nothing had happened. It was quiet except for the annoying hum of mosquitoes, and it was dark except for the full moon overhead. The only other light source was the distant glow of the city reflecting off the low cloud of smoke that perpetually hung in the air around the industrial district. That and the glow of fireflies weaving in and out of the bushes.

Mordecai was growing tired of this stake-out. There were kneecaps to bust, liquor to steal, and an empire to enforce. As one of the chief enforcers, it was his job to remove any and all competition. That's what they were doing out here, in theory at least. So far though the theory had proven hollow. The Arbogasts had buried some poor soul in a lonely cemetery beside the railroad tracks and now three of Marigold's best were keeping watch. Perhaps they weren't double-dealing after all?

Sera and Nico were far more enthused to be there. They were like hunters waiting to ambush unsuspecting prey. Since the ambush they were working harder than usual to get revenge on whoever had almost done them in, and it was frightening to just about everyone what kind of work ethic they had stashed away under their care-free exteriors. Mordecai wasn't afraid though. He actually felt like they were putting in real work for once. Taking advantage of the silence, Mordecai began to think back to the information he had just received. This new contact was very helpful indeed. "Iren" could do very thorough research and now Mordecai had a file nearly an inch thick on Domonic Drago. There was no question that this treasury agent was closely involved in Atlas May's death. Heck, maybe he was the one who pulled the trigger on that rainy night? The cat had apparently made a name for himself working as a hired gun for mining companies, but after that business became more difficult, he got himself a job working for the feds.

It would have been so easy for Drago too. Wait in an alley along Atlas' normal route then ambush him. Mordecai still remembered that night well. Cleaning his colt, a gunshot rang out in the darkness. He and Mitzi both responded quickly, it must have only been a minute at the most before Mordecai had found his mentor in a pool of his own blood. The gun was right there on the sidewalk. He had taken it before the police could arrive then disappeared while Mitzi handled the police presence. Yet nothing had come of it. No suspects, no investigation even! It would check out too if Drago had been involved with an internal cover-up. The only question is "why?" What would a fed have to gain by killing someone who had information and connections? As big as Atlas was in St. Louis, he certainly wasn't big enough for the feds to worry much about. All he could hope was that his contact would dig up more information.

The sudden emergence of headlights across the cemetery alerted the trio to a new presence. He couldn't see who they were yet, but when the car turned down the right pathway, it was clear what the intruders were here for. Sera and Nico smiled; this was going to be fun.

"That must be the ghost." Nico observed.

"Possibly, but we need the element of surprise. Wait for them to park then roll up to their car with the lights off." Mordecai ordered.

The plan so far was going swimmingly for us. Freckle dug, Ivy had a torch light to lend and hand, and Rocky had gone up to the tracks for a better view… and apparently to recite his poetry which was growing by the stanza each time he performed it. Before things got repetitive from our personal minstrel, I walked up the road to keep an eye on the entrance. The quiet evening air was pleasant, and a welcome relief from the stresses of the city. Getting a place out here one day would be a great thing.

So if there's a name for migrant mass

of veteran frivolity

That snakes through seas of prairie grass

and groves of summer sassafras.

a name that flows as roguishly

as wild waters, fast and free,

It's your true name: Mississippi.

Expecting applause, Rocky instead got crickets from his captive audience. Ivy thought of a rhyme of her own, complete will over-the-top dramatic movements. "It's abundantly clear! …That you forgot us down here…"

"Encore?" "No Encore?" The response was clear, yet Rocky offered suggestions.

"Eh, should I, eh, add a d-dance? Extra stanzas? There's more where that came from!"

"Please don't ruin musical theater for everyone." Calvin pleaded. Ivy was still focused on the task at hand. "I'm not sure lookouts are supposed to make such a ruckus anyway. Why don't you come down here and grab a shovel?"

"Alas, Miss Pepper. I was cursed, cursed with these spaghetti arms! So, I do what I can. I provide the a-!"

My ears picked up the distinct sound of Rocky bouncing off rocks and rolling through the weeds along with notes of a violin being put through the ringer. If anyone was bound to come, they would have shown themselves by now anyway, so I decided to turn back and see if our traumatic injury patient had hurt himself again.

"Guys, what's with all the noise? We should be as silent as the grave!" I hissed.

"Oh come now, Ethan! All that's out here are spirits. Specifically, the ones muscles has been digging up."

"You boys sure that's the right grave?"

"Well, if it isn't then we've got some explaining to do to the family of… Herman Hapfamschfeel?"

Freckle couldn't make out the name either. "Ethan, you were in Europe. Is that how you say it?"

"How should I know? I was shooting at the Germans, not having tea with them."

Rocky straightened his hat. "In that case, there's only one way to find out! On three, gentlemen!" In one big heave the fresh casket came out from its earthen tomb. The distinct sound of clanking glass answered the question for us. I helped McMurray out of the hole as Rocky and Ivy led the way back to the car. "Alright McMurray, good job putting your back into it. Now, let's get our cargo to the box."

Spirits Afoot

Dragging the casket back, Freckle picked up a twig snap. "What's that? Did you hear something?"

I stood still too, but Rocky's confidence was quickly exceeding our patience for the night. "It's all these unresting spirits! We're trespassin' on their turf. But there's naught ye can do about it, ye feisty devils!"

"I wish mom was here…"

"What? Blasphemy! That force of nature, she'd stop us dead!"

"I know."

"Come on guys, no time to was—"

A late-night express train blasted past us on the tracks not twenty yards away. It had come out of the Mississippi bottomlands like a banshee, screeching on its way across the bridge. All of us froze in fear, and my own mind went back to a close call I had with a mining train down in the tunnels. Luckily, I had found a wide spot in the tunnel and ducked into it as the compressed air locomotive passed by with a hiss followed by two dozen carts. Pausing, I closed my eyes and breathed deeply before opening them again. Again the night was quiet. Well, except for a cackle from Rocky.

"Ha! For a moment there I thought it was your mom."

"Let's keep moving boys." I said while picking up one end of the casket. "Longer we're out here the more likely it is that someone sees us grave robbing."

Freckle continued to mutter in between huffs, the Irishman in him was starting to come out with all the stress he was under. "This is why you don't go rillin' up spirits and digging up graves and sacrilegin' and—"

Rocky wasn't liking Freckle's attitude tonight. "Settle down, cousin! The spirits are all bottled up. A hundred years past, Burke and Hare were up to much worse. And things turned out just fine for them."

"Didn't they hang them?"

"Details, Freckle, details."

Being on the heavy end of the box was taxing on me, so I didn't bother to voice an opinion on the matter. Which is for the best because I don't know who they were talking about. "Damn I'm starting to feel old! Give me a minute, that box was heavy."

Ivy came around the back of the car with a prybar in her hands. "Now, let's see your crowbar skills." She said, handing the tool to the boy of many talents. Though shy, Freckle appreciated the attention.

In one swift motion the lid popped off and Rocky was immediately digging around. "Ah, liquid gold! Dionysian delight! Better still, Canadian whiskey!"

Indeed it was. Thirty bottles of the best whiskey we could get our hands on. Mitzi would be very happy, and the new stock was sure to draw in fresh customers. True, it wasn't as good as the old stuff you could get in little stashes throughout the west, but this whiskey would draw a far larger crowd than what those stuffy suits liked to sip on. That was one thing I didn't agree with Miss M about. Going after a few elites wasn't going to help in the long run, not when for every Wick Sable there was a thousand Paddies, Murphies, O'Donnells bending their backs every day to keep all manner of industries moving.

Soon, the bottles were loaded. Well, all except one. Rocky, always dramatic, panicked. "No! Don't let that get away! Miss M can't spare a drop! Murderation! Where's that spotlight when we need it, Miss Pepper?"

"This was too easy." Mordecai thought. He still couldn't make out who was in the road in front of them, but whoever they were had just started wrestling on the ground. Sera looked back at Mordecai, and he gave her a nod of approval to proceed. Nico turned the lights on, illuminating the scene in front of the Marigold agents. Mordecai's eyes widened upon seeing who these ruffians were. It was that kid from the band, the tag-along from Mitzi's meeting with Asa, Ethan Kelly, and Ivy Pepper!

I had only noticed the outline of a car ahead of us a half-second before the lights clicked on. It took the kids longer to realize that we had been caught with our pants down. The door flung open and out stepped a figure. Maybe we can talk to them? Bribe them with whiskey? Then I heard the action of a BAR lock up.

"Boys, take cover!" I ordered as I unholstered my pistol. If only I had my rapier, but it was in the backseat of the sedan. Ivy had enough foresight to hop in the car and put it in gear. I ducked and rolled as the bullets came flying. Rather than focusing on us, the figure shooting the big rifle started putting bullets into the car. In fear that Ivy could get shot, I returned fire with the revolver, though the blinding lights prevented me from making an accurate shot. Still, it got the attention of our attackers. Ivy drove the car around and we all piled into the backseat as she floored it in reverse.

"Damnit! Is anyone hurt?" I asked as we flew through the brush. A couple of rifle bullets bounced off parts of the car as we crested the hill. The boys gave me a nod and I relaxed slightly. "Ivy, how about you?"

"I'm fine."

"Thank Christ."

Freckle then asked the important question. "Who was that?!"

"Rival gang probably. Police don't use a Browning." I replied. Rocky, looking out the back window, realized that we were headed downhill now and quickly picking up speed. "Brakes, Miss Pepper! Brakes!"

Ivy pressed down on the brake, slowing us to a stop before we could plunge all the way into the river. Before we could catch our breath though, headlights appeared at the top of the hill, and they were closing in fast. "Go, Ivy, take the shore road, now!" I ordered as she slammed the car into second gear and floored the gas. Her inexperience with driving was obvious due to the lack of finesse, but hopefully the clutch would hold long enough to get us out of this mess.

"Rocky?" I asked.

"Yeah?"

"Got any ideas? Some improv lessons, perhaps?"

"Not yet, but in the meantime, I'm going to need a performance from you, torpedo boys!"

Nodding my head, I immediately reloaded the shells in my 38 special. The rifle wouldn't be much good in this situation, it was far too long to swing around in the car and the backseat was crowded with three grown men in it. Digging around, Rocky found his violin case and opened it up, revealing a freshly cleaned Thompson. Freckle seized up. His mind said no, but his soul said "yes!" Meanwhile, the other car had closed the gap and the gunner had given us a long burst of fire before running out of ammo. All four of us ducked as the bullets went through the rear window and out the windshield. Rocky screamed in panic as he realized where the bullets were landing. He attempted to close the box through the back window, but a bump sent him out of the car completely. Instinctively, I grabbed onto whatever part of him I could.

"No, stay with me!" He shouted. My God! Rocky had no care at all that he was about to be dragged behind the car. With one hand busy and at a bad angle, I couldn't shoot the revolver, so I turned to our last hope.

"That's twenty shots! Whoever it is must reload, now's our chance, Freckle! Wait until they get close! Freckle? Freckle?!"

The laughter had turned sinister and the boy gave me the look of a feral animal, but behind the curling lips I could see there was a method to his madness. Our adversaries drew ever nearer, and I tried to pull Rocky in since he was a sitting duck.

Reckless Driving

40 yards, 30 yards, 20 yards, 10 yards. They were going to try and ram us and possibly get my brother with the bumper. But then McMurray launched his attack. Spraying 45 caliber rounds into the car following us, the bullets instantly damaged the car. The burst was ten seconds, but that was all I needed to get Rocky back inside and into relative safety.

Nico backed off to a safe distance. "Hoo!"

Serafine and Nico laughed at this turn of events, now they knew who they were dealing with. But Nico's laughing was cut short with a cough. "I think I swallowed a bug…"

Serafine howled! "You got a big, fat bebette for dinner? No fair."

Coughing some more, the object came out of his throat. "Naw. Just more glass."

Mordecai wasn't so amused though. With a scowl, he looked at his two associates making light of what could have easily killed all three of them. Heck, Mordecai had to duck out of the way, and that was something he rarely put himself in the position of needed to do. "Profoundly unprofessional."

Nico looked back at his partner. "Well, they got more firepower than I expected. But you want to take over drivin' back there?"

"No. Especially now that you have alleviated us of our windshield."

Sera smiled, seeing the opportunity to get under Mordecai's skin. "Aw. You don't like how we play? How 'bout you stop spectatin' and throw in, cher? Or do we have to worry about you getting sentimental about old times?"

Mordecai just glared back at Sera. Mordecai Heller, ruthless assassin, Asa Sweet's shadow, sentimental? Nothing could be further from the truth. Or at least that's what he wanted them to think. He needed them to think that he was fully committed, but these targets were from Lackadaisy, and he knew what that meant. It would be hard to find a way to get them all out of this situation if required. The mission came first though, and if this was how it was going to end for Lackadaisy then it was their own fault. He had even warned Ethan about what could happen, but he had been careless enough to let those under his command get involved.

Nico, confident that they could go for the kill once more, floored the pedal and ran up beside the sedan. Rocky was now backseat driving and I was sandwiched between the boys without much room to move. However, as the other car came up beside us, I glimpsed our foes. It was those two strangers who were with Moreau that night, and the shadowy figure in the back was Mordecai Heller. Now we were in trouble. Pulling Freckle away from the rear window, I refocused him on the car out the side before more bullets could go our way.

With more maniacal laughter, Freckle opened up with another burst, hitting two tires and hopefully damaging the occupants. However, there was only three seconds of ammo left in the drum and it was soon spent. Frustrated, Freckle threw down the gun. Only then did I realize that Rocky was attempting to steer us off the road. Why? I had no clue; we just got an open road back home. Before I could correct us back, we were flying over yet another hill and on the other side was a massive fence. Without much choice, I grabbed Freckle and held him down to the seat, fully expecting a crash. At the last second, Rocky made a slight adjustment and we went flying through a sign that said "Sable" on it, followed a week section of the fence.

Careening through a parking lot, we landed squarely in an equipment shed. I was thrown into the seat in front of me. Rocky seemed to go head over heels into the front seat, and Ivy had been thrown into the steering wheel. Rocky opened the front door and jumped out but tripped and landed flat on his face. In an instant, Rocky was up and laughing. Then, he was gone. "Damn." I thought. I opened the door and rolled out, falling onto the ground, trying to catch my breath while checking myself for injuries.

Ivy wasn't exactly impressed by what happened, especially now that one of the crew had fled. "Oh, is it playtime now?" She then turned to Freckle. "Do you think we're safe?"

Freckle gave her a wild look, tearing claw marks into the seat. But soon he got a hold of himself and calmed down. "S-sorry. It's just. There's a hot, burning fire—in the engine compartment!"

Ivy got out and stepped on me as she opened the hood. Her foot landed in the exact wrong place for a man, and I rolled over in pain. "Ow!"

"Oops! Are you okay, Ethan?"

"Yeah. The pain from the boys downstairs is distracting me from the pain everywhere else. But I'm just going to lay here for a minute. Freckle, are you with us again, buddy? You went feral there for a minute."

"I'm here."

"Good."

After a minute, I willed myself to get up. A lot of things were going to be sore tomorrow. While Freckle and Ivy tried to get the car to cool down and patch any leaks, I fumbled around in the back seat. Everything had gotten tossed around, but I managed to find a couple of clips for the Springfield, the bayonet, the 25 acp pistol, the rifle, and some spare shells for my revolver.

Just as I was getting everything in our arsenal loaded, the yard lights came on. Peering through the door, three figures emerged from the shadows. It was Mordecai and his cronies.

"Freckle, we've got company!" I whispered.

"What do we got for guns?"

"Here, take this." I said as I handed him the pocket pistol.

"I… guess that's a gun…" He said, disappointed.

"Keep that as the back-up. Take my rifle too and try to outflank them, I'm too sore to run."

"You got it."

Hand-to-Hand

Moving out the side door, Freckle found himself a good roost for a shot at their foes. Lining up the sights of the rifle, Freckle took a deep breath and remembered the training he received at the academy, all two hours of it before he blew the test at the range. Squeezing the trigger, a shot rang out. However, the bullet flew harmlessly into the rocks just behind Mordecai who casually ducked out of the way. The jostling in the car knocked the sight out of alignment!

"I'll take care of whatever that is." Mordecai said as he moved swiftly to corner the mystery shooter. It was rifle shot, so he was expecting to come up on Ethan, but instead it was the stranger. Good, that would make things easier.

Back in the shed, Ivy got the car cooled down, but now the starter wasn't turning the engine over. "Get the crank wrench, Miss Pepper. I'll get that buggy started with a good heave!" I said.

Digging around, Ivy found the wrench, but to my horror, shadows appeared near the door. Coming around to the driver's door, I grabbed Ivy and we made for the back entrance as silently as possible. But when Ivy opened it, I saw a big cat standing there with a long gun. Pulling her out of the way as the door slammed shut, two shots busted through the door. We were stuck and outgunned. Thinking quickly, I gave Ivy the revolver and pointed to the underside of the car.

"Get under the car and stay silent. Now, whatever happens, if you get the chance, get the boys and get out of here. Don't wait for me, okay?"

"But…"

"No buts, just trust me."

Running up to the side door once more, I waited for it to open again. For a brief moment, everything got quiet. I breathed deeply and calmly. Simultaneously, the woman with the big rifle and the big guy kicked through their respective doors. Bayonet in hand, I lunged for the man who had just tried to shoot us. He was surprised at the maneuver, and we both tumbled backwards out of the shed. Sera saw what was happening but didn't dare shoot just in case she hit her brother.

As we tumbled out, I managed to knock the gun away from the cat before raising the bayonet up to plunge down into his chest. However, a swift punch to my side knocked the wind out of me and in a second, I was on the ground while this cat got to his feet. He kicked the bayonet away from me then kicked me in the gut. That didn't put me out of action though. Getting up, I swung wildly with a right hook followed by an upper cut with my left. First one missed, second one connected. However, rather than knocking out the cat, he merely stumbled back and smiled. This one had an iron jaw. Glancing to my left, I saw the woman standing there. But instead of shooting me, she just… watched. Then I started to realize how much trouble I was in.

With nothing else for it, I lunged again at the guy, delivering a body blow. But he moved in a way I hadn't seen before and, in an instant, he countered with two blows to my side. The last thing I saw was a solid fist connecting with my left jaw. Then, it all went black.

Nico, though impressed with the resolve, was happy to have the fight ended before either of them could get seriously hurt. Laughing, he picked up the cat's feet and started to drag him out into the equipment yard. Sera lit up a smoke, confident that they had done their jobs. Back under the car, Ivy quivered in fear. The revolver was fully loaded and right there in front of her, but she was too shaking up to use it. Out in the shed, Freckle got up after falling off a rafter. He remembered running out of ammunition in the pistol and had tried using the rifle again when a bullet bounced off a steel column and grazed his skull. Now his vision was coming back to him and the barrel of a colt 1911 stared him down. Before Mordecai could pull the trigger though, a loud explosion shook the ground.

The sound of a large mechanical beast hailed the image of Rocky riding a steam shovel through the smoke and dust of the quarry yard. Lighting a stick of dynamite, Rocky launched it toward his foes.

"The sudden circus comes to town! The behemoth and the top-hat clown!"

Another couple of explosions rocked the equipment yard. Mordecai, sensing that this was a higher priority threat, moved quickly to line up a precise shot, but a stick of dynamite landed only a few feet from the corner of the building, and he took cover as another detonation sent rock and debris flying.

Nico and Sera were both impressed and terrified.

"What the hell is this?"

"Child, that's eleven kinds of stupid!"

Rocky continued his rhyme. "Come gather, gather all around. See them rain their fire down!"

The steam shovel turned itself toward Sera who began firing up into the mechanical beast, hoping to take out the crazy cat. However, she miscalculated the speed of the shovel and soon she was right underneath it. In another miscalculation, a lit stick of dynamite landed right at her feet. Nico dropped his prize and quickly rushed to get his sister out of there. Tackling her at the last second, he covered her with his body to keep her safe as the dynamite blew up. The machine roared past, leaving behind smoke and dust.

"You can brandish up your whip and chair, but the circus train's a blazin' tear! Said the clown with daring air, we'll make our three rings anywhere!"

This time though the dynamite stick bounced off a metal wall and landed back in the bucket. In a moment of clarity, Rocky had the sense to scramble out of the way, but he tripped, and landed flat on his face yet again. Turning over, he noticed the machine gaining on him. In a desperate attempt to get out of the way, Rocky crawled part way up a metal pillar, and closed his eyes. However, nothing happened. Looking up, he noticed that the machine had run into a water tower and now the bucket was wedged against the bottom of the tank. Just then a final explosion rocked the equipment yard as 10 pounds of dynamite blew a hole clean through the water tower. A flood descended upon Rocky who was sent swimming.

The floodwaters quickly overtook Sera and Nico as well as an unconscious Ethan. By this time, Freckle had found Ivy and got the car started. Using the opportunity to escape, they backed up out of the shed and put the car into drive. Ivy and Freckle looked around for their friends, but they only spotted Rocky. Driving the car up, Freckle opened the door.

Ivy shouted out the window. "Time to go, mud bug! We got to skedaddle!"

Rocky, looking up, seized his chance and climbed in. Once he was inside, he noticed the car wasn't quite as cramped as before.

"Where's Ethan?"

Ivy remembered what Ethan had told her. "I don't know. He stashed me under the car then started fighting with those two gunmen."

"Oh no…" Rocky realized that their friend is missing in action. "We can't leave him behind! We need to—"

"We need to go, now!" Freckle ordered as Mordecai made himself known and pulled out his 1911.

"What are you doing?" Rocky questioned as Ivy slammed the sedan into gear and took off. "He wouldn't leave us behind!"

Freckle was quick to explain the situation to his cousin. "I know, Rocky. But we are out of ammo, out of options, and the car is barely holding together. We'll just have to get help."

"Help from where? We're it, cousin! Come on, Ivy, please, don't leave him."

Ivy sighed. "I don't want to, but Ethan said to get out of here if we get the chance to. We just need to trust him." Truth be told it was a tough call either way, but staying meant putting everyone at risk and Ethan was a soldier.

Missing in Action

Back at the Lackadaisy. Mitzi was reminiscing with the ghost of her dearly departed husband. Pulling up the paper, she read the daily articles. "And though scrutinized and scandalized and troubled in the end by depleted finances, Miss Duncan leaves behind, moreover, a legacy of consummate artistry and bold innovation."

Scoffing while shaking her head, Mitzi continued. "Done in by a scarf. The comic ending makes the tragedy, doesn't it? Speaking of tragedy, we got an old supplier back. The funeral home. Still, it's not the same without you. And that feeling that all of this was ours."

She leaned out the window overlooking the alley. "Used to be we could drive a whole convoy of trucks in…"

Looking down, she realized that the sedan was looking worse for wear. They couldn't afford expenses like this, but she did hope her kids were alright.

"Now we're just digging for scraps. Well, however unbecoming, Atlas, that's my cue. Meet you downstairs."

After reminding Horatio about his one job, to get the door open for customers, she walked in and sighed. The mid-week night was slow, and she was without a bartender. Zib was passed out at the counter-top, but Wick was always there with a smile.

"How's the weather, madam? Ah, right. The difficult business of, uh, business."

"You could certainly be some help."

"Except that I'm supposed to be a pillar of the community. A baron of industry."

Zib mustered up enough consciousness to deliver a sarcastic remark. "He said, bent over his illicit beverage."

"Oh, thank goodness! I didn't know if you were still alive."

Before the conversation could continue, Rocky burst through the door. Though he wanted to make a triumphant entrance, there were more pressing matters at hand. "Miss M!"

"Well, look what the Mississippi dragged up." But Mitzi's expression changed when she saw Ivy and Freckle looking worried. "What happened?"

Ivy burst out. "It's Ethan. He's been, he's missing."

Mitzi sat up in her chair. "What do you mean 'missing'?"

Rocky cleared his throat and calmed himself enough to talk. "We, uh, ran into some trouble. It was Marigold agents."

Ivy cut in. "We got in a shootout, and Ethan went after two agents who had us cornered in a shed. We haven't seen him."

"And you didn't try to find him?" Wick asked, now concerned as well.

"He said that if this happened to just… leave him."

Mitzi pinched the bridge of her nose. "That boy. He should know trying to be the hero gets you killed in this line of work. Okay, we'll have to go back and track him down."

Zib sat up too but had a different opinion on the matter. "I'm sure he's fine. Kid's been through worse. You'll see, any minute now he's going walk right through that—" But Zib was interrupted with the phone ringing.