In Which A Heckler Is Unable To Properly Heckle

The rest of the saloon was rather.......well, she wouldn't even say decent, but better than the empty, dust ridden, and now bloody mess downstairs. It was still hard or at least irritating to have to breathe and the heat was just as hellish, but was far cleaner than below as well as leagues quiet. What the floor was made of under the wood must have been incredibly thick because she couldn't hear a single howl from the gargoyles below.

There were only six rooms, three on either side of the single hallway, and the one the key stuck her with was.....simple. A bed, drawer, and single, dirty window, but Lozen was just glad it had something soft for her to hit on. However, she didn't let herself get distracted with the mere existence of something not trying to kill her distract her. She got away with her life, but that barbarian downstairs had taken the only spruce of income she had to buy supplies and she needed to fix that fast. Luckily, she had anticipated being robbed again and had come up with a handful of back up plans.

When she sat herself down onto the bed, she pulled off one of her now dust covered boots and then popping out the sole with the edge of her fingers. Underneath it were a series of tiny pieces of folded up paper yellow from age and exposure that she had spent most of her life collecting from every sign post she could. She laid them all out on the bed, counted up about fourteen of the parchment before starting to unfold them.

It was hard to find any source of income out here, especially for her: an Apache woman with a gun and clothing most colonizers would considered masculine. Hell, in some parts, she was half sure she'd been punished for all that, but right now she couldn't take that into consideration. Some thirty women and children needed her to get those supplies some way or another and complaining about it wasn't going to make that happen.

Though, there was only one thing people out here hated more than an Apache and that was a man with a gun who pissed on the law every chance he got. And their heads always paid handsomely. She had thirteen of them so far, at least that she knew were still active and an oversized map with markings covering every inch of it that always added an extra inch to the bottom of her boot. As she unfurled it and laid it out across the bed, she was greeted by the same grid of black markers that covered it from her previous backup plans. She could only count on one hand how many she had killed and cashed in herself, but if every mile she had tracked them through were a dollar, she wouldn't have to kill anyone.

The map itself wasn't very big but had many alterations stapled to the edges where extensions were necessary and covered enough ground to contain the entire state of New Mexico. Most of the incoherent scribbles were just that, incoherent scribbles with some of them having faded from the years of misuse and others still just as distinct as they were a week ago. Lines followed along the roads, improvised or otherwise, she had to ride along and the minimal X's dorting it marked the spots where she had managed to collect someone's bounty. There were more lines than X's, something she wasn't ashamed of, but still unnerved by. Finding them was usually the easy part, but dying was something those people's never excelled at even as they bled, screamed, and begged for their lives.

For all the talk there was of how dangerous bullets were, they never seemed to be able to kill somebody when she really wanted to, but she never needed many corpses. Usually she managed to sell her goods without having to resort to bounty hunting. Regardless, those hunts had allowed her to accumulate several pieces of helpful information and constituents that were very helpful when it came to finding some people who didn't want to be found. There names were marked all over the map, but what she was more concerned about were the names of the ones she was going to have to kill.

She wasn't sure how long she spent exactly, but it was more than enough for her to go over most every name she had shoved into her boot and think of a few more places she could search.

Alberta Finch, wanted for robbery and arson for the burning of some place called Grimehollow. 500 dollars.

Sirius Cane, wanted for the murder of five different county sheriffs. 950 dollars.

Florentine Lorenzo, wanted for the confirmed murder of one hundred individuals, criminal extortion, and robbery. 1,500 dollars, but he seemed to pop in and off the world like a rabbit with a state spanning burrow. She didn't expect to find him, but strangely enough the only one of them that she knew wouldn't be difficult to track was the one more wanted than the rest.

Gregor Iscariot, 5,000 dollars, wanted for 389 accounts of murder, 52 different incidents of burgarly, and the illegal selling of land in nearly four states.

She found bounties for him plastered all over the state, each one detailing a different number of crimes and cost of bounty. He committed crimes everywhere there was civilization and left a lot of grudges in his wake, meaning there was always a trace of him lying somewhere out in the desert. But there were reasons why he never bothered to hide and she wasn't about to be the fool who got killed because of it. The other bounties were far too minute to track or didn't have a high enough price, but there was one she had her eyes one.

Someone named Tobias Moore, 150 dollars dead or alive for a few robberies gone wrong, and who must have been hold up somewhere nearby. She'd be able to collect the bounty in a week and a half, but she'd also be back on the road in under a month. The bounty wouldn't be able to pay for much in terms of supplies and her village would burn through what she could get in no time, but it was better than starvation.

She let out a small sigh when she finally zeroed in on the nobody of a criminal and said to know one "Alright then. I'd say sorry, little man, but I'm assuming there's a reason someone wants you dead." With that, she started folding back up the posters and maps and stuffed them back under the sole of her boot. She glanced over to the only window in the room as she shoved her foot back into the boot and saw that, much to her surprise, the sun was already setting.

Crimson light drifted over the horizon and stained the heavens a hellish red that made the sky look like it was bleeding. Black clouds choked the sky and long shadows were cast actors what little of the town she could see. Most of the stores would be closed, so the chances of her bribing a ride out of someone were little to none, but she needed to get going before someone really did come looking for that barkeep or what remained. Even if his murderers didn't panic and start shooting the one who did, an Apache woman with a gun was going to draw all the wrong attention when there was a body in the same place as her. At least during the night it'd be easier for her to hide.

She let out a smaller huff before sliding off the bed and marching her way back towards the door. However, the second she stepped into the hallway, she heard something disturbing come barreling down the corridor.

Noise. Pure, undiluted noise that merely came drifting down the corridor, but the sounds that composed the cluttered, audible tide were more than enough for her to be disturbed. More muffled and almost violent laughter that came drifting up from the stairs along with some incoherent shouting that sounded more like a handful of vowels had been tossed into a bag and shaken than an actual language.

Her heart started to race as she heard that and the rest of her body braced in preparation to run, but even then the smell of booze and other poisons were making it hard for her to think straight. She was sure she would have panicked or at least jumped at all the sensory commotion if the fumes didn't drift up her nose. Still, the sudden burst of fear that rushed through her at the sudden inclusion of such activity was very much alive and caused her mind to start racing in a half-mania. More noise meant more people and more people meant more possible drunkards or even lawmen waiting for an Apache to blame for the corpse.

Her eyes skittered across the hallway, trying to find anything resembling an exit before falling on something near the end of her entrapment. Another dirty window hanging in the center of the lone wall at the end of the hallway and one that already looked half broken. Perfect. She thought about getting through it somehow, either by breaking or otherwise, and had concocted a semi-plan go maybe climb down to the ground somehow.

After that......she honestly had no idea. Run, hide, steal a horse? Who knew? All she wanted to do was just get away from here before someone tried to kill her. So before she even had a proper thought, she started marching her way towards the window with a hand clasping her pistol and the other choosing to rest on her knife. The sound of her pounding steps were covered by the ruckus and the intoxication the people below must have been under made her believe she might have a chance to flee whoever they were, but those hopes were cut short about five steps into her escape.

"Hey! Fella in the weird ascot!" A gruff voice cried out from behind her, the direction of the stairs, and caused her to freeze in place like death itself had stricken her. What little of her survival instincts were still functional told her she should move in someway instead of petrifying like a guilty fool, but the cold sweat starting to grip her made sure she stayed in place.

That is, until the voice spoke again with it's owners steps stumbling on over to her "What're you doing up here?" Despite his clearly compromised balance, the man managed to arrived right behind her in a rather timely manner much to her horror. She heard her heart begin to beat with the enthusiasm of a man running from Hell itself and the hand she kept around her gun beginning to draw the weapon from its holster.

If she was quick enough, she could kill it at least wound the man and get through the window before the rest of them knew what had happened, but she would have to be-Before her frenzied thoughts could continued, she felt an arm swing itself into her shoulder and force a fair amount of weight doe into her.

It wasn't anything troubling for her, but the surprise was enough to make her cave under it for a moment and then over react once again. Her left hand, wrapped around the hilt of her obsidian dagger, wretched the weapon out if it's hilt and held it close to her breast in what should have been the windup to stabbing the man, but thankfully he continued to speak before she could make that mistake.

"The party's downstairs, youngin." The man beltched into her face, caused her to cringed as she smelled all the conflicting concoctions drifting on her breath. Still, though, the light weight on neck, the obvious intoxication, and the drunken invitation all told her that she had dramatically overreacted to the situation. This man must have thought she was apart of whatever group was downstairs. While usually she would have used such weakness to kill or at least doable the bastard before he could bring more trouble, but he was under a delusion that she was just another member of this entourage. No one needed to die yet.

She cleared her throat and gently slid her dagger back into the sheath before saying in as masculine of a voice as she could muster "Thanks, partner, but I think I've had my fill for the night." Lozen tried taking another step forward, but the man gripping her shoulder keeping her in place and even pulling her back a bit as he said "Ah, come on, lightweight. Suns still up. You got time to live and time to drink, so get your skinny ass downstairs."

That was all he apparently thought he had to say before he turned the both big then around rather forcefully and pulled her stumbling along side him with her hands still on her weapons. Her mind continued to race as she thought about all the things that were going to go wrong down those steps, but all of them boiled down to the same scenarios. Someone would notice her, then kill her, and then the rest of her village would be left all alone to starve without ever knowing what happened to her or worse, someone else had to go out into the world.

She tried shaking the man's grip as best as she could without alerting him, saying all the while "Nah. Thanks for the offer, but I've already had too much as is. I think I'll lose a week of my life if I try and douse anymore. I'll just head-" However, she didn't get the chance before the bulky stranger cut her off "Excuses, excuses. You're alive, ain't yah?" She felt the urge to stab the fool and just get it over again before replied "No, I should really just be-"

The brute cut her off again "Son, we have been traveling four damn week through this hellhole of a state with nothing but water and sand. The last thing someone needs after all that is less booze. You can lie to you priest, but not to me. So you are getting down and you are drinking til you drop." He added a playful smack one her shoulder than made her slightly draw her dagger her dagger before realizing he was honestly trying to be festive despite the ale on his breath.

A small smile she had gotten used to forcing onto her face in these situations returned to her features as she tried starting "I appreciate-" By the time she started, the figure had already guided them towards the top of the stairs and sent them both stumbling down the steps. Even through the increased sound of merriment and just outright screaming, she could still hear the man utter one last sentiment before the wild crowd came into view "Boy, just shut up and enjoy."

The second they arrived at the bottom of the steps, Lozen managed to lock herself up in place and stop even the well meaning brute from pushing her any further. The scene before her would have been improved if called hellish because what she saw was about as close to the physical manifestations of indulgence and jubilance as possible. All of the tables were now inexplicably full of the same kind of person she had seen who shoot dead the bartender with neatly tailored hats and dusty leather clothes that were still so impractical.

Some of them were pudgey, but most of them were "well built" as she heard them call it and all of them had unkempt, grime ridden facial hair that made them all look like wild animals. Most of them had seated themselves right at the table, others were lying and rolling across them with mugs filled to the brim with beer sloshing over the side, and some were doing what she thought might be dancing, but looked more like they were about to faint.

She thought some were trying to sing, but it was either lost in the torrent of noise or their own slurred speech. Either way, she could barely hear her own thoughts.

The sea of men were divided between the tables with handfuls playing some card game and others just messily devouring platters of jerky, but judging from the way they shouted over to each other, they were all in the same party. Her stomach fell into the pit in her gut when she realized that and her mind went into another bout of chaos as the walls started closing in on her. There had to be nearly half a hundred of them between her and anything resembling an exit, all armed, intoxicated, and too numerous to be intimidated by anyone.

Whatever plan she had of getting out of here evaporated away like that, causing her blood to run cold and all of her instincts to die down. One small part of her thought she might be able to get out through the front doors, but judging from the attitude of the one grasping her arm, that wasn't gonna happen anytime soon. She scanned all over the room, trying to find some empty spot where she could wait out the chaos and maybe even get out. Thankfully, she managed to zero in a series of relatively empty seats still pressed up against the bar with only one person filling the empty space.

The one figure who sat at the counter wasn't moving and had his head lying flat on the table, so she assumed he must have just been passed out. It was a better spot than any of them and so she said "Alright. If you insist. I'll just post myself up at the bar." She tried stepping away from the man, but he instead started guiding her through the loud, obnoxious crowd and saying as they made their way towards the bar "That's the spirit!" Another instinctive smile passed across her expression as she heard that. The hairs on her skin stood on end as she was escorted through the raging ocean of mad man, poison drifting through the air, and the dimming candle light contained behind the lanterns nailed to the walls.

Everything seemed dimly lit and smelled of vice to a degree that made her feel like she was going to puke, though she thankfully managed to stay on her feet before taking a seat at the bar once again. "Just sit right there and I'll get you saddled up with something strong, alright?" The man said as he slapped her shoulder again and before she had a chance to say anything, he finally broke away from her to vanish into the crowd.

With that, Lozen was all alone, thankfully, and she was allowed to let out a small breath of relief, that is, up until she was reminded of what had happened at the bar. The stains on the back counter were still very much there, though they had turned a rather rotten black in the dim lighting and crushed over into a small network of solid blood splattered all over the wall. However, the corpse itself was conspicuously gone even when the hardened puddle of blood all over the bottom of the backspace and one long stained connecting it to the patterns uptop. Her eyes widened in alarm and glanced all around her to try and find something that hinted at what happened to the body.

"You wondering where they tossed the dead guy?" A voice asked somewhere off to her left, one that caused her to straighten out her posture before saying "No. Just looking for what's left of the booze." The guy let out a loud laugh that even seemed to rise above the crowd before saying "Buddy, I just have one thing to say to that. Sure. Also, you're not with the rest of these clowns, are you?" Lozen's heart skipped a beat as she head that and her hands went to her weapons again. "Of course I am. You think I'd-" She said, again trying to assume her most mannish voice possible before the man cut her off "Buddy, not that I care, but please don't lie to me. It has been a long week and I could really do without getting lied to my face right now."

Her paralysis spread throughout their entire body as the realization started settling in, but the only reason her fear wasn't as great as she would react thought was because the man talking didn't really seem to care. His voice was in this droning monotone that made him sound like the sad bastard trying to drown his sorrows and may have been on the verge of shooting himself. She glanced over to him, expecting to see another clumsily shaven, droopy eyed nobody with a mug or even entire bottle in hand, but saw maybe half of that.

The man in question appeared to be wearing a cloaked that hung over and obscured most of his person with a hat that seemed to serve the same purpose. She couldn't make out any limbs, just a general body with his head laying flat onto the counter and yet somehow leaving his voice unmuffled, but the strangest part of him was his head. It was completely covered by a wrapping of dirty sheet that eclipsed every single one of his features until she wasn't sure if she was talking to a man or a bundle of laundry with a person hiding behind it. She even looked all around the pile to try and see where the voice came from and jumped slightly when she saw it lift what had to be the head up to bang it on the counter.

"Lady, before you ask, let me just say that if I have to hear one more person ask me why I look like this, I'm gonna kill something. I don't know what and I don't know when, but I will definitely do it without remorse and regret. Now with this in mind, what exactly do you want to ask me?" The voice said again as it's owner shuffled in it's seat. Lozen didn't really know what to make of any of this. She thought this might have been a joke or something, but that dead voice didn't sound very comfortable in the outfit either.

"I'm sorry. Are you a leper?" Lozen eventually asked, wondering if she should be afraid or not until the man continued "Huh. Honestly, that's a new one. Would you believe me if I said yes?" He sounded like he was genuinely asking her, confusing Lozen just a little bit more, but providing her with at least half an answer. "No?" She said in more of a question, thinking this man was actually lying and ended up hearing him say in a disappointed voice "Damnit. What about tonsillitis?" Lozen again said "I don't think that makes you wrap yourself up." The man continued "You a doctor?" She answered "No, but-" He cut her off "Then who's gonna believe you?"

She was increasingly confused by this, but decided to drop the conversation and instead asked "Are you drunk?" The man shrugged and said "I don't know. I'm not sure it works on me anymore which has to be the third worst thing about my life. Right behind not having balls. I still don't understand how you people do it." Lozen stared into thin air for a moment before pushing almost everything about that conversation to the side and latching onto the most pressing part of what he said. "How did you know-"

She started before the man cut in once again "A woman? One reason really. Your voice sounds like a toddler gargling rocks, not a man. I know there's not a big difference and these guys are probably too wasted to notice, but it ain't enough to trick me." Lozen slid her fingers around the grip of her weapon as she heard that and started scanning the room to try and find a way out before the man gave her away.

"Don't worry, darling. I'm not gonna tell anyone. I ain't with these apes?" He said in as disingenuous of a voice as usual, but Lozen still kept her hands around her shooter. "Really now? Then you just decided to waltz into a place full of trigger happy possible bandits out of nowhere?"

She sarcastically said to which the man replied "No. Though you can get rid of that possibly. I think that's how they got the booze." Lozen retorted "Then why are you hear. You don't look like the type these people would waste their drink on."

"Indeed I am not. Full story is that I was just walking into town when one of these guys noticed me, thought I was an undertaker, and then made me bury that body out back. Then I kinda just strolled back in, sat myself down and am now waiting for one of them to notice I'm still here."

"Why?"

The man shrugged again before saying "I don't know. I'm kinda in a rut after that Lorenzo guy got away and now I'm just hoping a good old fashioned bar fight'll get my mood up." That was again, a lot for Lozen to process. She couldn't think fast enough to get through all her questions and so just ended up asking "Wait, you want to get into a bar fight?"

"No. Bar shootout. Big difference. One's got shooty things, the other had just got drunks beating the shit out of each other."

"Yes, but why would you want that?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

"Because there are bullets?"

"I fail to see how that's a bad thing."

"Then.......wait, who did you say you were looking for?"

"Florentine Lorenzo. Or is it?! I don't know! Because apparently I've been following the wrong name for the past six years!!!!"

The man banged his head down on the table again, but Lozen wasn't paying much attention to that anymore. She had just been handed someone who had been tracking a man worth one and a half grand for six goddamn years and she wasn't about to let that gold mine of information her away. Excitement flooded through her as she realized what she had and with her fear being suppressed for a moment, she lashed her hands out and grabbed the man by the shoulders. She wrenched him up off the counter, surprised at how light he was, and turned him to face her before she said "You know where Lorenzo is?!"

However, all the stranger said was "First, if you want to keep those arms, I suggest you let go of me in the next minute or so. Second, no. Because if I did, I wouldn't be trying to get cheap thrills from this town." The second she heard that, a small image flashed through Lozen's mind that caused her to freeze up again. A village of shriveled corpses left to die in the middle of a foreign land and only a handful left to be rendered dead by colonizers. It was quick, but it stung more than the bullets would have and caused her to dig her fingers into the strangers boney shoulder in what she liked to think was intentional. Getting him to feel a little pain to counter his threat, but deep down she knew she wasn't that quick to think. Still, whatever helped her make sure that image would never happen.

"Are you trying to intimidate me?" The stranger said to which Lozen dismissed and asked "Who are you exactly? How do you know about Lorenzo or are you just another bounty hunter?"

"Maybe."

"What?"

"Look, I'd love to tell you my entire backstory, darling, but the problem is, I've never seen you before in my entire life."

"And you don't need to."

"Do I? And again, are you really trying to intimidate me? All I have to do is give these fellas the slip about your equipment if you know what I mean and you'll be dead before dawn."

Lozen froze up at that threat and felt her grip around the strangers collar bones tighten as she took a quick look around at the gun toting miscreants that surrounded her. If they would kill her when they figured out she was a woman, she didn't want to know what would happen if they learned she was Apache. But she couldn't let this chance pass up and so, with a quick sigh, she let the man go.

"What do you want?" She asked as she leaned up again the table and after wobbling in his seat, the man said "Excuse me?" Lozen quickly added "I said, what do you want?" After a brief moment of silence, the man leaned towards her and said "What'll you give me?" She could practically hear the smile on his face. Lozen hesitated for a moment before saying "There's a sizable silver mine resting on....." She felt the words get clogged in her throat for a second. "Unclaimed land. On horseback, it's about three days ride away. I'll take you to it and then you'll tell me where Lorenzo is. Does that sound like a fair deal?"

One of the men around her cried out "Did someone say silver?!" Lozen, without taking her eyes off the cloaked man, simply replied "No." The thug exclaimed "No! You're drunk!" before leaving her alone.

The man in front of her remain quiet for a moment that made Lozen think about pointing something dangers at his head, but not as much as she thought when the bastard started laughing. His entire body jiggled as if it were merely a sack of stone in a sack with his shoulder bobbing up and down and his head swinging around on his neck like it had already snapped. He laughed like a child who didn't understand what was happening around them and only acted like they did, the cackle worming it's way into her ears. It was like the man knew Lozen would have to put up with whatever mockery he could toss her way and was taking great pleasure in exploiting that, much to her unseen discomfort.

She had seen men like this before and the feeling of inadequacy their actions should have bought had been dulled long before she even meet their first. They were everywhere and despite how impossible it should have been, were always the ones she needed something from. She wasn't even angry anymore, just thankful she had found at least one person who had what she needed. "I'm sorry." The man spouted out with another quick bout of laughter tumbling out of his mouth for a moment. "Well, I'm not, but can you really blame me? I thought you'd offer to pleasure me, not sell me a damn silver mine!" He continued to exclaim to which Lozen said "Are you going to take it or not?" The man continued to laugh for a little while longer before saying "Of course not! Excluding the fact I have no idea where he is, I really don't need any sort of money right now." Lozen's heart skipped another beat and her eyes widened again at that. For a moment, her jaw bobbed up and down as she lost her biggest card, but she managed to continue despite the shock "Then what do you want?!"

"Again, no idea who you are, lady."

"Then what'll it take for you to tell me!?" Lozen managed to get out before her head snapped over towards the rest of the room as a terrible gunshot came radiating throughout the room. She latched a hand onto the opposite edge of the counter and used her other hand to wipe out her pistol in preparation for a showdown, but much to her surprise, none of the other people in the room had the same reaction. They all let out a collective moans, surprising her seeing as how even she was used to gunshots and wasn't a career criminal, and all turned their attention towards a single person standing atop a table.

It was a rather burly man wearing mostly black with a scowl plastered onto his face and a pistol raised up over his head. "That's a lot better now!" He cried out as he slid his weapon back into its holster and caused more annoyed, pained groans to rise up from the crowd. Lozen let out a sigh of relief as she realized that whoever this person was must have just been trying to get everyone else's attention and sat herself back down before anyone noticed she had drawn.

"A tad jumpy aren't you?" The stranger next to her said after not even flinching at the sound and Lozen was about to retort when she was cut off by the most powerful voice she had heard in a while. "Gentlemen, I'm certainly glad you've all taken to enjoying your well deserved glasses. Lord know you've all earned it." The man cried out as he slowly walked circles around on the table, clearly taking joy in his own voice and somehow grabbing the attention of everyone around. "And I'm happy to say that tonight, along with the bounty and bourbon, we've got ourselves a piece of entertainment!" He continued before snapping a hand down to point at someone sitting at the table.

The guy he pointed at jumped in alarm when a small whimper escaping his throat before the commanding one continued "Ol' Zachariah here's been going on and on about what he says is......I'm sorry, it seems to have slipped my mind." Whoever the man was, Lozen noticed he was very much toying with his victim and trying to draw out whatever punishment he felt was deserved. Not that she cared, but she would have enjoyed it if this didn't lead to an execution.

The sniveling one who had been singled out for humiliation tried to cover his face with his hat, but that didn't protect him from the verbal onslaught. "What was it you called it again, boy?" The tormentor said, letting the silence dig it's venomous fangs into the poor souls heart before reaching one massive down and pulling him into the table with one swift move. Lozen flinched as she saw the man stumbled across the table for a moment, hearing a few chuckles from the crowd and even the bounty hunter next to her.

"Finally. Something exciting. I thought I was gonna have to start a shoot out to get something like this. Think they'll kill him?" He asked which Lozen ignored and keep her attention transfixed on the scene playing out before her. The tormented shuffled in place for a moment before the brute slapped an arm over his shoulder and said as he used his new found leverage to shake up the man "Come on. Spit it on out. You've got our attention. What do you think is out roaming in these parts?"

Another wave of uncomfortable silence past that made the poor soul squirm in place and break Lozen's heart even further. She wanted to help, but then she'd just put her own life on the line and get killed alongside him. "I-I'm sorry, Tony. I won't do it again. I'll keep my mouth shut and-" He tried to stammer out before the zealous brute shook him up a bit more and said "Oh no, dear boy. You clearly seem to know your stuff. So why don't you tell all these people what you told me?"

Lozen felt her hand twitch for a moment as the backbiting silence returned and was thankful when the weasel managed to find his voice again "It......it was a couple years back and I had a bad case of hay fever, so I-" This time, all the brute needed to do was speak the wiry man was silenced "Just say it, Zachariah." One more wave of quiet before the poor bastard started in his trembling voice "I-I was riding with some boys up north near the Oklahoma border and I saw Hell's Horseman." A small murmur passed through the room as that voice was muttered, but Lozen and the one on her left had too massively different reactions to that. Lozen had no idea what in the damn "Hell's Horseman" meant and was convinced this a dramatic bit for a moment before the bounty hunter on her left whispered over "Oh hell yes! This is exactly what I needed. Is this the one up near the mountains or at that one Injun reserve?" She cringed at that, but kept her attention focused on whatever was going on.

"We had just gotten out of some prison up near the top of the state. We would've been in there for life, but instead we rode on out of there with the Pinkerton's own horses. The entire night, we rode on and on, not stopping for a sec. Two of the guys got hunted down by the law in the first hour, but the lot of had shaken them by midnight. However, by the time we got to open field, we sat him on the horizon. We trailed him by what to be a mile, so we had a laugh at first, but in five minutes flat, he was on us."

Lozen kept her eyebrow raised at this, still expecting someone to get shot by the end of this, but was distracted once again when she heard the stranger next to her muttered "You're goddamn right." She tossed him a quick, confused glance before returning her gaze to the possible murder scene before her.

"He was nothing more than a skeleton wrapped by a soul, wearing clothes covered in grave dirt! He rode a horse that could outrace the sun, with rotting flesh dripping from its mane! In his right hand he held a pistol wraith and in the other he gripped his steeds spine!! There were seven of us when he arrived, he fired only six shots, and then only I managed to escape!!!"

Again the stranger muttered to himself "Didn't even have to get headshots." That caught Lozen's attention and she shot him another confused look at the stranger before tossing his comment aside. Though, the way he worded it was starting to get suspicious. It was like he had heard the story before. Though, the rest of the people around seemed to having quite a laugh with it. They couldn't stop chuckling, mocking the fool under with breaths, or sometimes laughing out loud at how absurd this was becoming, br despite all that, the fool couldn't stop now.

"He right on my tail half the journey and would've gotten me to if he hadn't been driven away by the light of the rising sun!" He exclaimed to which more people laughed outright and even smashed a fist against the tables they were seated at. Lozen wasn't surprised by this and once upon a time, would have probably laughed along, but for now just muttered to herself "It did?" Then, out of nowhere, the stranger seated at the bar with her cried out "I did?!" That finally snagged Lozen's mind and pulled her attention entirely towards the stranger as she said "Did you say I?" Before she could get an answer, the stranger jumped out of his ear and cried out in the mist buffoonish action she had seen all day "What do you mean it was driven away by the sun?! That's not a thing! You made that up!! How the hell could a little sunlight stop Hell's Horseman!?!"

Lozen felt every inch of her freeze in place as those words seemed to echo between the walls, worse than the earlier gunshots and making her wish she had just stayed in her room. Most eyes in the room went over the stranger with even the showman and his dancing monkey up in the table glancing at him. The last time had so many eyes looking in her general direction, she had to flee on a three legged horse and with a gut wound. She slouched down in her seat and pulled her hat down over her face as she tried deflecting their attention, but the stranger appeared to be more than happy to absorb it all instead.

"Does anyone here know who this leper is?" The brute called out to the crowd and one of them replied "Yeah, Chapman. He's the guy we made bury that colored body we found behind the bar." Lozen rested a hand on the bar behind her as she prepared to pull herself behind it and thankfully the masked maniac next to her was more than happy to continue being a distraction. "Huh. I guess people will believe the leper thing. Also, while we're on the subject of burying, I'd be happy to do the same to that bastard right there." He said as he gestured over towards the whimpering figure with with the end of his chin. The brute raised an eyebrow, more in intrigue than anything else, before saying "And why on earth would you want to do that? You with the Alberto hombres?"

Lozen start eyeing the window as the strange took a few steps into the crowd of silent, murder happy outlaws, clearly high on his own confidence, and continuing to talk despite the obvious. "What? Those cowards? Hell no! And for that first part, because that's not how the story goes! Hell's Horseman doesn't leave anyone alive unless he wants them to spread the story! That way every outlaw between the horizons'll know to fear him! Not this scared of sunlight shit!" He exclaimed, making Lozen respect him a bit more just for how ballsy he was being and judging from the look on the rest of the men's eyes, they had the same sentiment. The thug on the table on the other hand looked like he was waiting for somebody to jump out and tell him he was being played for a fool.

Though, she was more amazed at the man she was seeing do all of this. She saw brave men die standing before swarms of outlaws all the time, but this had to be the first time she saw a damn fool doing the same thing. It was honestly interesting to see someone's arrogance or stupidity leading them to their deaths as opposed to some misguided need to stand up and do what was right. She even wondered if the man even knew he was going to die. Still, it was going to end the same way and she needed to be ready for when the bullets started flying.

Her hands continued finding a hold to propel her over the cupboard from as the stranger pressed on digging his own grave. "Well. Looks like we've got an expert here boys. What're you, the big bad ghost riders husband?" The brute said to which a few of his boys snickered and the man replied "No, but I know a hell of a lot more about storytelling than this greasy bastard! Why would people be scared of a 'big, bad ghost riders' who can't even keep track of time? No, no, no. This is how the story actually happened." He cleared his throat with Lozen just accepting the fact he must have been insane as he started in a far more dramatic voice.

"The night would have been like any others, cold and quiet without a soul in the world stirring. The prairie dogs had stopped their roaming and the rattlesnakes had slithered off to their layers, but the stallions raced across the desert like it was high noon. Gunshots echoed through the lands, stirring even god himself as lawmen from far and wide hounded down nine crafty sinners who'd been freed from their cells. They rode through rivers, across mountains, even into where the prickle brush bloomed, but never once did they relent. Second by second they rode through Hell and back, praying to whichever saint would let them go free that day. Praying that the last shot they heard wouldn't be the one that finally hit and either brought them tumbling to a bloody, gruesome death or back to their cages where they would rot for the rest of their lives. Praying that on this night, the eyes of justice were truly blind. And whether or not any heavenly host listen to those wretched souls as they fled that night, they were indeed blessed with a miracle.

By the time the witching hour came, the white hats and do gooders had been swallowed back up by the horizon behind them. They were free and they knew it, but none of them stopped for even a second. All they knew to do was just keep riding until the sun rose up or their stead's died from the effort. And a good thing they did, because those the law had lost them, these degenerates still found themselves chances.

Bounding over the edge of the world on a steed as old and rotten as death itself, with a gun that knew no failure, a rider spit out by Hell itself. A creature so foul and vile, not even the Devil himself wanted it. It was a black hearted creature of judgment and ill dues, a demon unknown to the grim collector itself, and a blight against the great lord in the sky. It was-"

BANG!!!!!

...

Quick side note. This chapter and the next were originally meant to have been one big one, but for some reason, honey feed has a word limit to this stuff. So I had to split them up if that explains anything. 

With that being said, again, thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, please leave a like to comment to show your support. If you noticed any areas to improvement, also leave a comment! Any and all feedback is extremely appreciated!