Bounty - Episode Five
This story contains language and sexual themes and is not suitable for anyone under 18 or anyone who is offended by such.
If you want to start at the beginning, you can read episode one here.
The forest was thick with pine trees and bur oaks, the ground covered in pricker bushes that scraped at their horses’ sinewy legs, causing them to bray with irritation. The moon was high in the cloudless sky, thin slivers visible through the topmost branches and a chill in the air made their breath visible as they rode, putting as much distance between themselves and the train as possible.
“We shoulda killed all the passengers,” Harris muttered, his voice edged with bitterness. He tightened his grip on the reins as if trying to restrain his anger.
Henry shot him a sidelong glance, the lines etched deep in his weathered face, betraying the weight of his responsibilities. “Hush,” Henry said, his tone firm and tinged with weariness. “We killed enough folks. No need to kill any more.”
Harris’ nostrils flared, a fiery glint in his eyes indicating the turmoil within. “Whatever you say, Pa,” Harris grumbled, his words dripping with resentment.
They rode in silence for several more minutes, the only sounds were horse snorts, nocturnal creatures filling the sky with their night song and the soft, rhythmic thud of horse hooves on the hard, packed ground. Henry stole occasional glances at his son, his heart heavy with the burden of parenthood. He had hoped that bringing Harris along would temper his wild spirit, but instead, it seemed to fuel the flames of rebellion burning within him
The forest thinned as they reached the narrow path cut into a hillside. It was so narrow they had to ride single file, the sides of the hill slowly sloping upward towards a massive red sandstone butte. The narrow path turned into a thin crevice, forcing them to slow the horses to a crawl. The butte rose up on both sides and the crevice twisted and turned at odd angles. A few trees with dark green leaves jutted from ledges in the sandstone, creating a striking contrast.
Finally, as the moon started to slide towards the horizon, they reached the crest of the butte and the trail abruptly widened into a massive flat area, surrounded on one side by more thick trees so dense daylight had to be piped in. The sandstone walls continued to rise on the other three sides, making it impossible for anyone to reach them without taking the same passageway.
Outlaw’s Butte, as it was called, consisted of several small, windowless log cabins, available to any outlaw needing a place to lie low until the heat died down. At any time three or four gangs of outlaws might occupy the premises. If the cabins were full, tents were erected.
The rules of Outlaw’s Butte were that each gang was left to their own devices. The leaders of the gangs were responsible for their own members and any disputes were handled by the gang leaders. The process worked well and the few times things got out of hand, alcohol was usually involved. If any law tried to invade the hideout, all the gangs had a tacit agreement to defend the area.
Smoke curled from the chimneys of several cabins and muffled snores could be heard.
“There,” Henry said, pointing at a cluster of cabins on the southern tip of the butte. They stood dark and silent in the early morning hours. “We’ll take those three there. Lefty, you and my son share one and Sarah and I will each take the other two.”
“I don’t wanna share a cabin with him,” Harris moaned. “He snores like a train engine and his goddamn farts stink so bad you could choke to death on its fumes!”
Henry rolled his eyes. “Then sleep outside. I don’t care.”
“Why can’t I share a cabin with you?” Harris said. “You are my father.”
“Because,” Henry said, closing his eyes as if trying to keep a grip on his diminishing patience. “I need some peace and quiet. Time to decompress.” He looked at Harris. “After that stunt you pulled I gotta think how I’m gonna get us outta this mess.”
He slid off his horse and led it towards the crudely built stables which were more of a lean-to with stalls. Fresh hay lined the ground and water rippled in the troughs. Other horses housed there whinnied and snuffled as Henry tucked his sooty-coated horse into a stall and gave it a good pat on the muzzle.
He removed his hat and wiped at his forehead with the sleeve of his sackcoat. The top of his head was covered by thin wisps of hair.
Plunking his hat back on his head, he said, “Lefty, you tend to that wound on Harris’ arm there. Looks like it only nicked him and should heal up fine in a day or two. Sarah, you help me schlepp these sacks into my cabin so we can figure out the split. Then we’re all gonna get a few hours’ sleep.”
Harris glowered at Sarah and Henry as he led his horse to the stables. Sarah ignored him, but she felt those beady eyes following her as she removed the sacks that were heavy with riches.
She wanted to say something snarky, but she was exhausted and desperately wanted to lay down. The beds in the cabins might not be the most comfortable, but she could have lain down on a bed of pricker bushes and slept soundly.
Henry led Sarah towards the modest cabin, the worn wooden door beckoning them with promises of respite from the harsh realities of their outlaw existence. With a creak, he pushed it open, revealing the interior bathed in the soft glow of an oil lamp.
The interior was meagerly furnished with a table and two chairs. A strip of cabinets were fastened to one wall to allow for food preparation. The bed was rickety and the mattress grubby, but the blanket was freshly washed and the pillow newly fluffed. A ladder led to a storage loft above.
“Shut the door,” Henry requested, his voice low and weary.
The door was a thick wood slab that spent most of the time open to allow for natural light and air circulation. Sarah hooked the toe of her boot on the door and kicked it closed, throwing them into darkness.
“I’m sorry about my son,” Henry said, breaking the silence between them. His expression was heavy with a mixture of guilt and resignation. “Starting that shootout like that. It wasn’t how this was supposed to go down.”
“It was your idea to bring him along,” Sarah said, thrusting one of the sacks to the floor. Sarah held his gaze, her face inscrutable in the flickering light.
“I know,” Henry acknowledged with a curt nod. “His mother couldn’t handle him anymore and I thought his unruliness might be useful.”
“He’s too dangerous. Even for our line of work. He can’t control his temper or his judgment.”
Henry chuckled, the edges of his mustache bristling. “Well ain’t that the pot calling the kettle black.”
Sara dropped the other sack to the dirt floor. “He’s still walking ain’t he? I ain’t shot him yet.”
Henry smiled fondly at her. “For now.”
“That shit he pulled back there?” Sara gestured at the door, her brows furrowing together. “We easily could’ve been killed. He’s got an ego the size of the moon, which is awfully big on its own, but especially for someone who's never robbed a train before. And now,” she said, her voice turning shrill, “we’re probably gonna have an even bigger price on our heads for all those deaths!”
“I know,” Henry agreed. “I’ll handle it.”
“I hope so,” she said, “because it’s getting harder and harder to rob trains and banks. We don’t need more complications because he needs to keep his arrogance on display.
“I said,” Henry’s teeth were clenched, “I’ll handle it.”
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed Episode 5! Stay tuned for Episode 6!