The other shoe finally dropped, but it shouldn’t have come as any surprise.

  Not to Noora at least, and not to anyone who knew the Firstborn, because that’s who he really was. Sure, he was Howie too, a sweet, kind, generous soul who had a thing for helping broken people and making plans, but that’s who he was underneath it all. The Firstborn was his armour, his shield, his badge, and his title, all the things he showed the world when times got tough. Noora saw the transformation first hand just last night, when Howie was walking out front with his head on a swivel while she and Josie were comforting one another about having to call the dance short.

  Trouble, Howie said, and there was a time when Noora would’ve booked it right off the dance floor just like that, dragging Josie and everyone else behind her to safety. Life in New Hope had made Noora soft though, tricked her into thinking she was safe behind these tall walls with so many guards, Rangers, deputies, and concerned citizens wandering about. They had a bunch of teachers and volunteers to chaperone the dance too, mostly making sure no one spiked the punch or got too frisky on the dance floor. A sentiment which was almost adorable considering how easy it was to find a nice secluded shadow to have fun in if need be. The chaperones had their work cut out for them, and many had their eyes on Howie who spent the night dancing with Josie, looking adorable as can be with their heads touching while keeping a gap between the rest of them for the sake of propriety. Noora even envied them a bit, wished she could dance with her hermana or Howie and lose herself in their eyes. Had a few short minutes with Josie while Howie was off freshening their drinks, but then he came back empty handed, and before Noora could decide if she wanted to cling to Josie some more or steal a dance with Howie, his dark and stormy expression said it was time to get gone.

  The decision made for her, Noora had linked arms with Josie and scurried along behind Howie as he made a beeline back home. Truth was, she was more annoyed than alarmed, upset they had to call it an early night and race home in high heels which were most decidedly not made for running. They looked phenomenal though, and Noora kept stealing glances at her own feet and Josie’s too because who knew when they’d have another chance to dress all fancy like this? All the old fussy ladies didn’t like their outfits much, as they were very critical of the short skirts and tight shirts Noora had picked out for Josie and herself, but the older gents all got an eyeful while the boys couldn’t stop staring all throughout the night.

  No one approached them though, because Howie was vigilant throughout the entire dance, glaring at any boy who found the courage to even think about coming up to say hello. While making their way back home, he continued to glare at everyone in their path, and it had much of the same effect as folks steered clear of their path without needing to think twice. This was all still Howie too, one full of anger and vigilance and more than a little nerves as he moved through the crowd like a marty through the flock of kiccaws. The prey all gave way to the predator in their midst, because make no mistake, Howie was a predator through and through.

  What other’s failed to realize was that underneath it all, Howie was so much more, and right now, he was a nervous guy worried sick that something might go wrong, because town life had made him soft too.

  Noora couldn’t forget that moment if she wanted to, and it would stick with her until the end of days. Howie went even more alert as he glared at a bunch of boys ogling at them from across the street, then turned towards Noora and the rest to say something. The words got stuck in his throat as his eyes went wide with surprise, then someone yelled and Josie gave a little gasp. Just a small one, a sharp intake of air so short and light Josie thought her hermana had slipped on the cobblestone path or something. Before Noora could turn to help, she saw Howie’s expression go through a multitude of changes. From surprise, to denial, then sorrow followed by rage. He appeared beside them, his arms going around Josie, and only then did Noora realize her sister had fallen. Not tipped forward like she stumbled, or straight back from a slip, but like a puppet whose strings had been cut. She was already dead by then, in the brief moment it took Noora to turn her head, the life and laughter gone from her beautiful brown eyes without so much as a word.

  And Howie? Howie was gone too, along with his surprise, denial, sorrow, and rage, all his emotions swallowed by the stone-faced mask of the Firstborn.

  A cold and impassive killer, that’s the Firstborn, and he proved it as he slaughtered everyone who brought arms against them without so much as batting an eye. Didn’t snarl or scream, grimace or smile, showed no pleasure or conflict on his face. If all you had to go on was his expression, then he could’ve been cooking breakfast, cutting grass, or doing some other mundane task, not killing a bunch of idiot kids who thought they could take on the Firstborn and live to tell the tale. Even when the fight was done and the Sheriff wanted to bring him away, the Firstborn kept the mask on, and had yet to remove it when he reappeared the next morning for the funeral. Even now, as he stalked into the room he grew up in on the second floor of Aunty Ray’s house, he was still the Firstborn through and through, all tensed and primed for violence and bloodshed despite his passive and almost bored expression.

  After the funeral, Noora came here and did nothing besides sit on the bed and reminisce of days passed, having cried so much she didn’t think she had any tears left in her. The Firstborn though? He had no tears either, but not for the same reasons. No, he had things to do and people to meet, all hustle and bustle as he made ready to do what he did best. None of which was any concern of Noora’s. What good would getting even do? Saw it herself firsthand, when Gil and his boys were all killed by the Firstborn and she allowed herself a moment to dream of freedom and happiness. A sweet fantasy of escape and happily ever after, a delightful delusion that would never come to pass no matter how far she ran away from her past. Last night showed her, didn’t it? This was the Frontier, where there were no happily ever afters, no idyllic escape or shelter from the evils of the world.

  But yearn for escape, Noora did, which is why she latched onto the Firstborn as soon as he strode into the room. Threw herself into his arms and held him oh so tight, and he held her close as she finally found her tears and sobbed into his chest, but she wasn’t crying for Josie. Much as she wanted her hermana back, these tears were for Howie, because she wanted him to scoop her up and cradle her close like he did for Josie only a few weeks ago when her parents passed. It wasn’t going to happen though, because Howie wasn’t here, only the Firstborn. Didn’t mean he didn’t care for Noora, but he did this because he cared too much for Josie. Stepping back emotionally was his way of protecting himself, and Noora too because even though he was all cold steel on the outside, inside, he was a blazing cauldron of burning fury with no tender warmth to share, so he kept his emotional distance so as not to burn her with his rage. That’s why he just stood there and held her close, but didn’t whisper any sweet lies about how it’d be alright or plant soft kisses on her head. Because he was hurting too, and he didn’t have anything in him to give, a feeling Noora knew all too well because she felt the same way inside.

  Empty. Desolate. Alone and afraid. Being together didn’t change anything, except that they were alone in the same room, with no gentle affection or unyielding love because they both gave their all to Josie who brought it with her to the grave.

  Noora wasn’t sure how long Howie held her for, but it didn’t matter. Could’ve held her for hours or days, and she’d still feel the same, more broken and hurt than ever before because Josie was the one who made her pain go away. It wasn’t anything she did really, but just who she was, a bright, bubbly, optimistic girl who dreamed silly teenage dreams of romance and grand adventures. Those first few days in town had been so strange, because Noora couldn’t get past the idea that Josie and her parents wanted something from her, but they slowly broke her barriers down and made her believe they were family, because that’s how they treated her. Josie especially, who was so sweet and na?ve, yet full of wide-eyed wonder and excitement regarding the world outside the town walls. Noora wanted to travel too, see everything the Frontier had to offer, but she wouldn’t have the courage to go without Howie to keep them safe. Now though? Now she saw that for a lie too, one she told herself, because there wasn’t anything Howie or anyone else could do to keep her safe and sound.

  No, if she wanted to be safe, then Noora could only rely on herself. Not the Rangers, guards, or deputies around town, not the concerned citizens who all went running away despite the weapons on their hips, and not even the Firstborn who charged into the fight with a hatchet in hand, rage in his heart, and a cold, unreadable expression etched across his face.

  The same expression he wore now as he pulled away from Noora’s embrace. Wiped her tears with a handkerchief, his touch as tender as could be, but there was nothing tender or warm about his gaze. Just distant and matter of fact, looking not at her, but at the future laid out before him, the path he’d planned and picked out for whatever he’d do next. “I’m gonna be gone for a bit,” he said, and it broke Noora’s heart to hear it, even though she already figured as much. “Don’t know when I’ll be back, but you’ll be taken care of.” Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a neat stack of bills and pressed it into her hands, while she spotted an even bigger stack still sitting inside. “That’s three grand,” he continued, a veritable fortune which would’ve once made Noora’s eyes go wide, but she barely even glanced at the money as he pressed the bills into her unresponsive hands. “Josie left you the house and everything, so you’ll have that too, but if you need more and I ain’t back, then talk to Aunty Ray and she’ll do what she can.”

  “Guess you’re off with the Rangers then, gone to rid the Frontier of the Mafia.” Noora voiced the question as a statement without really caring for an answer. Wouldn’t change anything, so why even bother? There’d always be bad people out there, so better to spend your time being happy where you could instead of risking your neck for nothing. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks,” the Firstborn replied, and the cold rage that slipped out sent a shiver down Noora’s spine. Made her understand him a bit more, even appreciate how he distanced himself to protect her, but didn’t change the fact that she wanted Howie to be his warm and caring self so they could cry the pain away together. “I’ll need it,” he continued, too distracted by his thoughts to pay her any mind. “Won’t be no Rangers though. Just me. Josie’s death ain’t worth disrupting the mines. Didn’t say as much, not in so many words, but that’s the gist of it.”

  A statement which made Noora break down all the more, because it made far too much sense. Yeah, the Rangers would see it that way, because they were focus on the big picture even if the little people got hurt. Like back in Pleasant Dunes, when Howie was the only one who gave a shit about her. Sure, the Rangers were happy to look the other way and let him stir the pot a bit, but none of them took Noora aside and promised to get her out. No, that was Howie, a man who’d seen all the darkness there was to see, and still somehow managed to have hope.

  Now though? Now the Firstborn was losing hope, which meant she might end up losing Howie too.

  “Don’t go,” she said, without even having to think about it. “Forget the Mafia. Forget the Rangers and New Hope and everything else. Let’s just leave, you and me. Take me to see the Serpent Coast, or Thunder Bay or something. We can go anywhere, do anything, be anyone, you and me, mourning Josie together and honouring her memory.”

  The Firstborn faded away, and Howie peeked out from behind the mask as his gaze softened and lips pressed together tight. “I wish I could,” he whispered, leaning forward to touch his forehead to hers, but neither of them could find it in themselves to move forward and complete the kiss. “You deserve it Noora, all the love and affection in the world, but I don’t got it in me to give. Not while Josie’s killers are still living large over in Rimepeak and laughing about how they got one over on us.” Noora closed her eyes, but even then, she heard the Firstborn take over as the rage and hatred slipped into his tone. “They flaunt the law openly and got no fear for it because why would they? The Rangers are happy to live and let live so long as the economy ain’t affected, and one girl’s life ain’t worth the fuss when completing the Bulwark is on the line.”

  Poor Howie. Wasn’t just losing Josie that hurt him so, but losing faith in the Rangers too, because they wouldn’t do anything to help him. A lesson Noora thought he’d already learned when they betrayed his daddy, but it seems he was learning that same lesson again and hurting all the more for it. He wasn’t like Noora, who was all too happy to run away from the pain and live in the moment somewhere else. No, he always was one to live in the future and the past both, looking to reclaim past glories and be the Firstborn he’d always dreamed of becoming while facing his problems head on. For a while, Noora thought Josie might well change him entirely, turn him into a dowdy domestic with a day job here in town, but every time he talked about things to come, he never failed to mention getting himself back to 100%.

  Because much as Howie loved Josie and the idea of starting a family with her, he loved being the Firstborn just as much, if not more. Noora had worried that it’d cause friction between them eventually, because Josie was very much against Howie going back to his gunfighting lifestyle, even if she never said as much in so many words. All you had to do was look back on how she unravelled when she heard Howie was tracking Abby with Clayton to know Josie wasn’t cut out for life as the Firstborn’s wife.

  Well… didn’t matter anymore, now did it? Josie was gone, and the Rangers let Howie down once again, so all he had left was to fall back on the Firstborn. Noora wasn’t enough for him, because she couldn’t be what Josie was to him, a chance at a future where he could be Howie, a father, husband, and whatever else he wanted to be outside of the Firstborn.

  It wasn’t even intentional. He just couldn’t help himself. This was who he was, and while he was willing to change for Josie and the baby in her belly, he couldn’t do the same for Noora. It was partially on her, because she didn’t want him to change, so he saw no reason for it, and as such, he could only be the man he was, the Firstborn all full of fury and vengeance. Her suggestion to run away together had already been forgotten as he raged against the Mafia and Rangers both until he got his temper contained and under control again, leaving nothing but a cold shell of a man ready to ride forth and do violence unrestrained.

  So Noora supported him as best she could, while wishing with all their heart that they could both be what the other needed. That wasn’t in the cards though, because fun as this was, it was never meant to be, not for long at least. “You go do what you gotta do then,” Noora said, hugging him tight, because this was what he needed now. Support. “Make those bastards pay for Josie.”

  She didn’t tell him to come back safe and sound, because she didn’t think he’d want to hear it. He lost a hand in Pleasant Dunes while going up against Vanguard National, and never once mentioned even a word of regret over the loss. He was saddened by the loss, upset even, and was working himself to the bone to make up for the fact, but regret never entered into the equation. A dear price to pay, but well worth the cost, or at least that’s how he saw it. Now, the Firstborn was on the warpath again, and come hell or high water, he’d make the Mafia pay for their crimes regardless of the cost.

  Because that’s all the Firstborn knew, even though Howie wanted more, and Noora mourned for the latter who was lost to her too, gone to the grave alongside Josie.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Sitting on the bed with the blankets draped over their heads, Tina hugged her sweet, inconsolable sister, tight while trying not to listen in on Howie’s conversation with Noora next door.

  It was only polite, but there was a tiny, illogical, irrational voice in Tina’s head that said if Howie didn’t want her to overhear them, then he would’ve closed the door. That same voice was also annoyed that he went to visit Noora first instead of his own sisters, because there wasn’t nothing sorta about their family. Course, Tina knew it was just Howie being pragmatic as usual. His old room, which Noora was staying in, was the first door at the top of the staircase, because when Uncle Ming and Daddy were off doing Ranger business, Howie was the man of the house and expected to protect them. Should anyone dangerous come up that staircase, it was Howie’s job to be there ready and waiting to fight. Didn’t matter that he’d had the room since the house was built, when he wasn’t more than 3 or 4 years old. In Uncle Ming’s eyes, that’s how it had to be, so Howie did his best to live up to expectations.

  As for Tina and Chrissy, their rooms were down at the other end, furthest from the bathroom and staircase both. Made for a bit of a chore going all that extra distance each and every day, but from a defensive standpoint, putting Chrissy in the nook and therefore the last room any intruders would get to seemed the smartest option. Course, Tina ought to switch with Noora now to keep the other girl safe, but she didn’t think about it until now. She would have to though, keep everyone safe, because the Mafia done made it clear they were coming after Howie, and he wouldn’t just sit still and wait for them to come. No doubt he was in there telling Noora he was about to ship out, and while Tina hoped she’d get tapped to go along, there was little to no chance of that. Fighting Abby was simple, because they wasn’t nothing but targets to shoot at, but there were far too many nuances when it came to fighting people. Especially civilians in a town, as opposed to enemy combatants on the battlefield, which is why the whole debacle at Pleasant Dunes had been so prickly to navigate.

  Howie knew the pitfalls well though, learned the ins and outs from his daddy starting at 8 years young and been putting it into practice ever since. It was different from Pleasant Dunes too, because over there, they had his back against the wall, what with Wayne and Conner convincing him to talk it out only to get bushwacked and lose a hand before the fighting even started. This time though, Howie was going on the offensive, as opposed to starting off on the back foot, and Tina was all but certain he’d make the Mafia pay dearly for what they’d done.

  Which in concept was a good thing, except she’d seen what it meant just last night, when Howie chased down all those scared, stupid kids and hurt them real bad. Didn’t just kill them clean, no he made them suffer for it, an intentional choice which scared her something fierce. Like that kid he scalped, the one who done killed Josie and Howie watched scream in the streets for long seconds during the firefight. All while getting shot at by them other kids mind you, and even though he had a Warding Wind up to keep him safe, it wasn’t exactly an impenetrable defense. Got grazed more than once by a Bolt that wasn’t blown off course enough, or one that would’ve missed and got blown in towards him, but Howie didn’t even blink as he bled out there. Just stood still as a statue over the boy he’d scalped and stared down like a looming spectre of death, all grim and emotionless on the outside and hurting something fierce on the in.

  Because make no mistake. Howie was a sweet and gentle soul, one who cried the first time he shot a bunny and spent days with Chrissy hand feeding a baby joey who done been rejected by his mama. The man she saw last night chopping tendons and beating other kids to death, that wasn’t him, not really. That was the man he had to be to make it out there, the Firstborn of the Frontier and perhaps even the second coming of the Yellow Devil. Uncle Ming said it himself, sat Tina down all gentle like when she asked why folks called him that and told her, “Some people know no reason. You cannot talk, because they do not listen.” Pointing at the gun on his hip, the silver Rattlesnake Howie used now, Uncle Ming said, “Many people, only understand this, so it is what I use to speak. Other people who hear? They think this makes me devil, and I say maybe they right, but that is who I must be so I can come home safe.”

  Tina would forever remember how Uncle Ming smiled when he said it, all sad and resigned to his fate. She understood he had to play a role, but hated it all the same, so she hugged Uncle Ming as tight as she could and told him, “You’ll never be a devil to me. You’ll always be Uncle Ming.”

  He never said anything, just smiled and hugged her back. A few weeks later, he left for the badlands with Howie, who came back alone and told them Uncle Ming was dead. Didn’t bring no body back to bury, because Uncle Ming wanted to stay at the house he built with Aunty Lina, and Tina hoped they’d found each other again.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  As for Howie? He was very much his father’s son. Tina saw it now, even though last week she’d have said they weren’t much alike at all. Uncle Ming was a stern and serious man, one who had his moments of tender affection, but rarely ever joked or laughed. Howie on the other hand was more like Daddy, mischievous and playful even in the most serious of times, always ready with a quip or a smile to lighten the mood as best he could. Sure, he had his daddy’s work ethic and pushed himself all too hard, but when it came time to have fun he always cut loose around family and friends.

  Last night though? Tina almost thought she’d seen Uncle Ming reborn as Howie slaughtered all those kids without blinking an eye. He didn’t smile or scream or take satisfaction from their suffering, nor did he leave them there for long. Howie was still the same sweet person as before, and no doubt his stomach turned to do it. Probably didn’t even want to hurt them, would’ve killed them clean if he could, but since he didn’t have no gun, he just did what he had to. He maimed, gutted, scalped, and stomped because that’s what them boys deserved for killing Josie and bringing violence and bloodshed into New Hope, and he couldn’t find it in him to be quick or clean about it while fighting for his life. No more, no less, and he took no pleasure in doing it, much like the butcher don’t much enjoy slitting the hog’s throat, but does it all the same because it’s gotta be done.

  That’s what other folks would never understand. They all looked at Howie like he was a monster, a sadist and killer, but he was simply responding in kind. The Mafia wouldn’t blink twice if Howie killed those kids clean, or disarmed and took them into custody like so many fools in town were saying he should’ve done. Never mind how that was an absurd demand considering Howie didn’t have no gun and them kids were all armed with fast-firing Maosers with 10-round mags, or how his shirt was soaked in blood from wounds that might well could’ve killed him if them Bolts had been blown another way. No, he should’ve been the bigger man and subdued them kids with rope or cuffs or Spells he didn’t have, because somehow the standards are higher for him than they are for anyone else, Rangers and deputies included.

  Hell, Tina herself killed two boys last night, which was why she was hiding under the covers with Chrissy. They’d had guns in their hands and were firing at Howie, so Tina didn’t think twice about popping two Bolts into each. Both centre mass just like she’d been taught, an easy shot to make from less than 15m away, but she’d never forget the scared, confused looks that crossed their faces before dropping to the ground dead. Or the screams of them other kids, all younger than her, some calling for their mamas while others begged for mercy as they bled out on the streets, and still more screaming in denial like that’d stop Howie. There was no stopping him, not after they killed Josie, not until there wasn’t anyone left to kill. Some ran, but by the end of it, most were dead or dying, and Howie just stood there in the streets bleeding like a stuck pig while looking this way and that for another target to hit.

  Anger and despair, the townsfolk would understand, but Howie didn’t show none of that during the fight or the funeral this morning either, so they didn’t see what he was going through. Tina did though, saw all the pain and anger and tears he was hiding inside, a dark cloud he’d swallowed whole and compressed down to hide in his clenched fist, one he couldn’t let go of even in Chrissy’s presence.

  He tried, Tina had to give him that much. He couldn’t put a smile on as he shuffled into the room, but he knelt at the side of the bed and tapped Chrissy’s knee for attention, then waited patiently for her to come out of her shell. Wasn’t gonna happen anytime soon, because the poor girl had been right next to Josie when she died, and saw a side of Howie he ain’t ever showed her before, a brutal and bloody side of life he and everyone else did their damnedest to shelter her from, but there was no going back anymore.

  So after a few gentle attempts to catch Chrissy’s attention, Howie gave up and turned to Tina instead. “How you holdin’ up?” he asked, ever the big brother and ready to be here for her if she needed it, even though he was the one who needed help the most.

  So Tina put on a brave face, or brave as she could as she shrugged and said, “Good as I can be.”

  A lie Howie accepted, because he didn’t have it in him to press. Heaved a long sigh all the same, then gave her a look that was both neutral and sad at the same time. “Sorry to put this on you,” he began, reaching out to take her hand and give it a squeeze. “Things are gonna be rough for the next little bit. You don’t start as a Ranger until this coming Monday, right? Think you can get another week or two? It’s a big ask, I know, but I’d feel a lot safer knowing you were here with your mama to look after Chrissy and Noora.”

  “Why?” Tina asked, all a bristle with suspicion while refusing to let go of his hand. “You think they gonna come at us again?”

  “Might could,” Howie replied, his tone so steady he might as well be talking about the weather. “Sherrif didn’t find no trace of Mia Pugliano, and my Spells couldn’t locate her or the jewellery she was wearing, so either she’s still here in town and hidden well, or she got out and had help doing it.”

  So best not to take any chances, because anyone could be compromised. The jailbreak attempt Howie thwarted already showed as much, but even though it revealed a number of guards, clerks, and other folks on the take, there were apparently still many more hidden away. Tina nodded and hoped Captain Jung would understand, because Lord knows Sergeant Dixon wasn’t the type. The Illusionist kept pressing her to change her choice of Specialization, saying how good Illusionists were few and far between and that she could do more as a Support than a Vanguard like Daddy. Cloaking the whole team in Invisibility, throwing up Illusions as distractions, hiding in plain sight inside of an illusory bush or tree, that sort of thing all sounded mighty appealing, and Tina didn’t mind doin’ all of that as her secondary role. Thing is, it’d always been her dream to run point with Howie. The fact that he wasn’t no Ranger didn’t change that. He was a Scout, plain and simple, which meant no matter how good he might be, he still needed someone to watch his back while behind enemy lines or down under dark, and Tina was fixing to do just that.

  Which made it sting all the more to know he was shipping out without her, but at least he’d have the Rangers with him. Good Rangers, instead of bent ones like Wayne and Conner, or at least that’s what she hoped. “Uncle Teddy say who he gonna tap to head up the Op?” She asked, because there were a few Rangers with bad reps that she’d only just learned about. Like Zeke Fowler, the Evoker with a hair-trigger temper and a mean leer, or Armando Fraga who was always smoking his wacky tobacky without a care in the world. Despite their flaws, they had experience in urban combat, and Brightpick was urban enough to count, so they were the obvious picks. It’d be best if they brought Uncle Tim in to lead this Op, since he served in a counter-insurgency sniper before coming to the Frontier, but he was all the way up in Meadowbrook and Howie looked rip raring to go right now.

  Could send Captain Jung in, seeing how she was a door kicker in the Marines, but ever since Pleasant Dunes, she’d made it very clear to the class that she didn’t like Howie’s style much and would come down hard on anyone, boot or Ranger, who tried to emulate his actions. Kept mentioning how they couldn’t be like Howie, how they had to be better, follow the rules and regulations or get 86’ed and court martialled, only to conveniently leave out what Wayne done to Howie because the Rangers couldn’t have that egg on their face, now could they?

  “Won’t be tapping no one, because there ain’t no Op,” Howie replied, and it took Tina a few seconds to parse his meaning. Wasn’t nothing wrong with the words themselves or how he said them, but they didn’t make no sense all put together like that.

  “What you mean there ain’t no Op?” she asked, sitting up and eliciting a small whimper from Chrissy as the girl clutched her close, so afraid of being left alone. “Where you goin’ then?” Settling back in to stroke her sister’s hair, Tina glared at Howie and silently demanded an answer lest they both upset Chrissy again.

  Which might well be the only reason he answered. “Them hitters don’t got no substantiated ties to the Mafia,” Howie said, his rage barely restrained as he choked the words out. “So officially, the Rangers got no legal recourse to go after them. Might well be why they sent kids with paperweights instead of hitters with real hand cannons and the know how to use ‘em.” Tina carefully bit her tongue to stop herself from mentioning how them ‘paperweights’ made a real mess of his nice shirt, but truth was, outside a few scrapes and cuts on his left cheek where an Ice Knife exploded, a couple flesh wounds on his arms and legs, and a bruised knee from a bad fall, Howie was pretty much untouched. Not so bad considering how many Bolts were flying throughout it all, especially when you factor in how Uncle Art was treating wounded all night long and couldn’t make it out to Josie’s funeral.

  Don’t think Howie noticed though, because he wasn’t exactly in his right mind for it. Nor was he now, because it sounded like he was fixing to take on the Mafia himself. “So they just gonna leave things be?” Tina asked, hoping desperately that she was wrong and Uncle Teddy had some plan or scheme to get the scumbags who ordered the hit.

  “Yep,” Howie replied, dashing all her hopes in one go. “Far as the Rangers are concerned, it was an isolated incident. Them kids came after me because they think I killed one of their dads or whatever.” Howie crumpled a bit, then rallied right quick, but Tina knew him well enough to know he blamed himself too. “Rangers’ got bigger issues to concern themselves with and Feds don’t want to rock the boat, not with everything happening with the new towns bein’ built south of Redeemer’s Keep.”

  “Then what you gonna do?” Tina asked, still holding his hand tight and refusing to let him pull away. “Just mosey on up into town and start blasting away? That’s a fool move and you know it, and the same goes for any other move you might make with no one there to back you up.”

  Howie didn’t answer right away, just gave her a mournful look that said it all. “Gotta make do with what I got,” he replied, squeezing her hand thrice. “Already told Sarah Jay and the rest of them that offered to help at the funeral, but you a Ranger Tina. Got your star and everything. You take up arms in a personal grievance against explicit orders, and you’ll get bounced right quick only for the Feds to throw the book at you after the fact. They don’t want their soldiers playing vigilante. Marcus came damn close to getting court martialled a couple times, but he had a lot more wiggle room because ain’t no Ranger gonna snitch on their Captain for killing drug dealers and criminals. In Rimepeak though? The Mafia runs things up there, so they’ll spin the story however they like.”

  “Then why go?” Tina asked. “Why not come up with another plan? Sit tight and work to find some reason to go at them, a legal reason. Like how they leaning on Carter for protection fees. If he registers an official complaint, then the Rangers will have a valid reason to go after them right?”

  “And the Mafia will hit back, only they’ll do it quick and quiet against Carter, not the Rangers.” Shaking his head, Howie said, “Already put Elodie in danger last night, and I ain’t about to ask him to do it a second time. Nah, no point in counting on the Rangers.” Which coming from Howie sounded like sheer blasphemy, but he didn’t shrink back from it at all. “They’ve had years to do something about the Puglianos in Rimepeak, but they’ve looked the other way this entire time, so there’s no reason to think things’ll change anytime soon. Rangers can’t do nothing because them local Sherrifs won’t say nothing since they’re paid to look the other way, while most folks are too scared of the Mafia to stand up for themselves.”

  Howie wasn’t looking at either of them anymore, and was glaring out the window like he could see Rimepeak off in the distance. “That’s how they rule,” he began, his lip curled ever so slightly in a snarl. “Through fear. Why shouldn’t people be afraid of the Mafia? The Rangers and Feds ain’t done nothing to protect them. That’s why the Mafia got no fear either, because they know how far they can push without anyone pushing back. Well, this time, they done pushed too far. They just don’t know it yet. They over there in Brightpeak listening to the news and celebrating how they done hurt me good, but I’mma teach them the meaning of fear soon enough.”

  Which boiled it all down to why he felt he had to do this. Not because he wanted to, or because he thought revenge would make things better. Wasn’t about that, not really. It was about spite. They killed Josie, hurt Howie real bad, and he wasn’t gonna take that lying down. No, he was gonna hit back, and he’d keep on hitting them until they couldn’t hit back, because violence was the only language he and the Mafia understood. That tiny voice in Tina’s head wanted to tell him to give it up, to stay here and keep them safe until he had a better plan, but Howie wouldn’t listen. No, he’d just get upset and run off all the same, only now he’d have to worry about how he left things off. Bad way to be while going into a fight, so Tina doubled down and said, “Then let us help! Me, Sarah Jay, and the rest. You can’t do this alone.”

  “Maybe, but I definitely can’t do it with no raw recruits.” Giving her a look that brooked no arguments, Howie tried to soften the blow. “Y’all have come a long way since the start of Basic, but ain’t none of you ready for this.”

  Meaning they’d only weigh him down, and Tina knew in her heart it was true. “At least take the Shield pendant then,” she said, tears pouring down her cheeks at the thought of him having to go at it alone. “You need it to keep you safe.”

  “Too identifiable and easily tracked,” Howie replied, with a shake of his head. “Can’t be giving the Mafia or the Rangers any easy avenues to find me while I do what I gotta do.”

  Wasn’t much else to say then, because Howie’s mind was made up, and wasn’t no one alive who could talk him down. So for lack of anything else, Tina said what Mama always said when seeing Daddy and Uncle Ming off for a fight. “You just make sure you get back in one piece then,” she said, and Howie almost smiled to hear it. “That’s all I’m asking.”

  Howie didn’t answer right away though, because he wasn’t one to make promises he couldn’t keep. “I’ll try,” he said, squeezing her hand one last time before pulling free of her grasp. Tapping Chrissy on the knee, he said, “I gotta go now, Princess. Bye.”

  “No.” Coming alive without warning, Chrissy clamped onto Howie’s wrist with both hands and clung on. “Stay,” she said, pulling so hard she sat up and started leaning forward into him, but Howie didn’t budge one inch.

  “I can’t Princess,” he said, leaning in close for a nuzzle. “Got things to do and places to be.” There was none of his usual cavalier self in the words, but he was giving it his all to sound light and breezy. “Business to take care of, you know?”

  “Scared,” Chrissy declared, and to Tina’s surprise, her sister looked up to meet Howie’s eyes. “Stay?”

  Now that was new. Not that she could say she was scared, but that she’d do it unprompted. Usually you had to ask and do it carefully so she’d actually answer, but now she was clarifying things all on her lonesome. Try as he might, Howie didn’t have it in him to deny Chrissy much of anything, so it didn’t come as any surprise when he gave in. “Okay Princess,” he said, heaving a little sigh. “I’ll stay for a little longer.”

  Shifting aside, Chrissy made room for Howie on the bed between them, and all his efforts to protest were for naught as Chrissy stuck to her guns. Soon as he was seated, she sank into his embrace and pushed hard until he leaned into Tina’s. There they were, the three of them hiding under the covers like they did when they were kids, all huddled together to get away from the thunder and lightning or tell scary stories to try and spook each other in the dead of night. Hit real different in the moment, as Tina held her brother close, and he held their sister the same way. For long, quiet minutes, no one said a thing, but it meant the world to Chrissy, and a whole lot to Tina too because she was feeling awful about everything.

  “I’m sorry,” Tina said, after a few minutes of silence, and she couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down her cheeks. “I said I wouldn’t let nothin’ happen to Josie, but somethin’ did, and I should’ve seen them thugs comin’ sooner and done somethin’ about it. Saw them eying us from across the street and didn’t think nothin’ of it, not until they pulled out their guns and started shootin’.”

  Howie sat up and slipped his arm around her shoulders, so that Tina and Chrissy were both nestled against his chest. “Wasn’t your fault,” he said, his voice strained and heavy. “Was my job to protect her, mine and mine alone.” He took a deep breath, then another, one that was shaky and shallow and tight. Only then did Tina realize Howie was struggling not to cry, trembling as he held them both tight. “I was gonna marry her, make her my wife and raise a family with her. Had a bun in the oven and everything. An accident, but a happy one, you know?” That explained the big rush, and Tina didn’t know what to say, and could only cry harder because now she’d lost a little niece or nephew too. Explained why he was ready to give up the limelight too, because he was fixing to get ready to be a daddy instead of gallivanting all about the Frontier, a different life from the one he’d envisioned but no doubt a life he was looking forward to as well.

  Tina didn’t have nothing to say, just cried to hear it. Instead, it was Chrissy who replied, with tears streaming down her cheeks as she asked, “Howie okay?”

  He took another deep breath, and Tina heard him break, as he couldn’t hold back his tears anymore. “No,” he said, with a sad shake of his head. “I don’t think I am.”

  More invested in this line of questioning than Tina would’ve expected, Chrissy paused, then said, “But Howie will be okay?”

  Usually, Howie would lie and do everything he could to shield Chrissy from the worst, but this time, he didn’t answer. He just held her and cried, which was answer enough, and neither of them pressed him for more. Tears streaming down her cheeks, Tina cried not just for what she’d lost, but for Howie too, and he cried and held them both tight like he didn’t want them to know he was crying. Fool man, having to pretend to be big and tough even here and now, but while Tina didn’t understand it, she let it be, and pretended not to notice while hugging her brother tight and hoping against all hope that he’d make it back alive.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Eyes red and heart heavy, I make my way downstairs as quiet as can be.

  Luckily, Aunty Ray ain’t waiting downstairs, as she gone out to do something or the other. No doubt console some frightened old biddies who think I done brung the Mafia into town, as if they ain’t out there terrorizing folks regardless of what I do. Gives me a chance to get into the gunroom without her trapping me inside to talk, so I slip in and grab what I need as quick as I can.

  Gonna need a lot of firepower to take on the Mafia, more than what I usually carry even. A Whumper for sure, because a Blastgun is king in close-quarter fighting, and I expect I’ll be doing plenty of that up in Brightpick. Could use a rifle too, in case I find a good vantage point overlooking the place, one with clear lines of sight down straight, open streets, so I pack the 3-Line along with its scope and silencer. From there, I follow the old adage regarding how there’s no such thing as overkill. The twin Nagas I took off Ronald Jackson go into the bag, because shooting through walls might come in handy, while Marcus’ twin Judges get packed in too because it only seems right. Man made a name for himself gunning down criminals no one else cared to go after, so I think he’d approve of me going after the Mafia. Or not, given his stance on cowboy yee-haw bullshit, though I still stand by the fact that he wasn’t one to talk. Lastly, I grab the Nanfoodle too, the expensive rifle I took off Gunin that shoots flaming Firebolts using overpacked 44-80 round, because why the hell not? Been looking for an excuse to use it, so might as well give it a shot.

  Now granted, there are issues to handle, like the fact that I can’t use most of these guns one handed. The rifles are a given, but the Naga got so much recoil I can’t really use them one-handed with any speed or accuracy, especially since they single-action. The Judge too, because despite looking like an oversized pistol, it’s actually a small Blastgun, and I seen folks with two hands lose their grip on the thing when shooting. I also don’t got any ammo for the Nanfoodle, and not much for most the other guns either. Even if I took everything in here, it wouldn’t be enough, and I ain’t about to leave Tina and Aunty Ray defenseless. Means I’ll have to buy or pack more ammo along the way, but that ain’t much of an issue around these parts. I’ll also have to work something out to use most my arsenal, aside from my everyday carry, my Rattlesnake, Model 10, and twin dubsies. I got some plans in mind though, so I pull out a wad of cash and scrawl a quick note telling them to buy more ammo right quick before heading out with all my guns in tow.

  Just in time for Aunty Ray to catch me locking up the gun room as she makes her way in through the front door. Doesn’t do much more than give me a look, a stern glance that ain’t angry or upset, but that’s all it takes to stop me in my tracks. “I gotta go,” I say, because I can’t stop to discuss this, which is ironic because I can’t bring myself to walk past her. If she gets a hold of me, I won’t be able to break free, and she’ll do everything she can to talk me down and make me give voice to my flawed logic, then give me a look when I insist I gotta go anyways like I’m gonna break her heart in twain. Fact is, she’s giving me that look already, all pouty and sad as she walks over with arms outstretched, and damn me for giving in and standing here to be caught.

  “My poor baby,” she whispers, and I get all choked up to hear it as she pulls me into a hug, only to cry some more even though I thought I was all cried out. Pats my head and rocks me side to side, all while I hold fast to the gun bag because if I let go, I might not ever find the strength to pick it back up again.

  She don’t try to talk me down though, just hugs me until I stop crying and pull away from the embrace. Doesn’t fight it either, just pats my cheeks and gestures for me to sit, so I do. Again, she don’t say nothing, so I gotta fill the silence, and I tell her everything I told Tina only with more sniffling and less matter-of-fact assurance. It’s difficult to law down the law in front of the woman who changed my diapers, or hugged me close and kissed my boo-boos when I hurt myself as a kid. Aunty Ray don’t even gotta do anything, just holds my hand and listens, and already I feel like the battle’s half lost if she pushes back against me.

  To my surprise, she doesn’t, not really aside from a single emphatic attempt to get me to stand down. Reading me like an open book, Aunty Ray sighs and shakes her head. “Be honest,” she says, looking me dead in the eyes. “If I were to forbid you from going, you’d just sneak out and do it anyways, wouldn’t you? Then where’d you be? Out there all the same only with less guns and gear than you otherwise would.” Glancing at my bristling bag of guns, she purses her lips in a wry grimace and adds, “That ain’t what you need though Howie. You goin’ about this all wrong.”

  “How so?”

  “You think you can just walk out of New Hope armed and loaded for bear?” Glowering for all she’s worth, Aunty Ray grabs me by the chin to make sure I’m paying attention. “You do that, and you all but announcing your intentions, which is all fine and dandy if you hunting Abby, but this is the Mafia we talking about. Don’t matter if they criminals; murder is still illegal, and you ain’t gonna bait no mafiosos into shootin’ first. Even if you do, the Accords and Federal Law ain’t gonna keep you safe, because they’ll just kill you and lie about it, as they got enough juice to bribe all sorts of officials. Justification won’t matter with them, so don’t be countin’ on it to keep you safe, else you’ll find yourself locked somewhere their people can reach you. This is a different sort of fight Howie, one where you standing on the wrong side of the law to start with, which means you gotta approach it a different way.”

  “Wasn’t gonna just mosey on into town and challenge no mafioso to pistols at high noon,” I mutter, but I refrain from saying any more lest I incriminate myself or turn her into an accessory or something.

  “I know,” Aunty Ray retorts, letting go of my chin and smoothing my hair before driving the hammer home. “But you can’t be so open about your intentions neither. Even if everyone knows you got a grudge with the Puglianos, it won’t matter so long as no one can prove you was the one who done them in.” That’s what I love the most about Aunty Ray, the way she can talk me up without even trying. Ain’t a question of if I can pull this off, because she already believes I can, and now it’s just a matter of not getting thrown into prison for it. “So forget the bag. Wrap those weapons up in a carrying case, then wait until nightfall to sneak them out over the wall. Come tomorrow morning, you head out with your regular loadout, and maybe your Ranger Repeater too, so it looks like you just heading out for a hunt. This way, when someone comes asking if you was the one whodunnit, you can say, ‘look, I went out there with these guns, but the shooter in Brightpeak used them other ones. Couldn’t have been me’.”

  Turnabout is fair play after all. Even though we know the Mafia sent them hitters, we can’t prove it, so won’t matter if the Feds know it was me who shot them up, they’ll have to prove it before they can bring charges against me. Now, the Mafia got fewer qualms about lying than I do, so chances of me getting charged regardless is high, which is where Aunty Ray’s next piece of advice comes in. “Once you out there,” she continues, “You find someone willing to give you an alibi. Maybe Clayton’s people will be willing to go on a hunting trip and bring your Repeater out with them. Long as they’re willing to claim you was there with them, then won’t no one care to dig any deeper into the matter even if everyone knows they lying.”

  I don’t much like that, because that’s asking a lot of them. “What if the Mafia goes after them?” I ask. “For giving me an alibi I mean. Could bring a lot of heat down on them, stepping on the Mafia’s toes like that.”

  Aunty Ray hits me with a look, one that is equal parts doubt and scorn. “Won’t be a concern if you don’t leave no one to bring the heat.” Meeting my eyes, she purses her lips and says, “Ain’t no half-measures here Howie. You bring your A game and fight for keeps, with the intention to take out everyone in power else I’ll chain you to this couch until you’re old and grey.” Seeing my surprise, Aunty Ray scoffs and asks, “What? You think I don’t know what it’s like out there? Six years, your daddy had no one to talk to on that porch out there, no one besides me. I done heard it all Howie, know everything he done and everything you done too. World called him the Yellow Devil, and he done some ugly things, but he always had good reasons, and I trust that you got yours, just like you got good reason now.” Glaring at the window, Aunty Ray scowls and adds, “Gave your Uncle Teddy a piece of my mind I did, for not even trying to put up a fight. Man’s so concerned about getting the bulwark built, he plum forgot why he’s doing it in the first place. To protect his people, you and Josie among them.”

  And baby makes three, a thought I choke down because I’m afraid that if I cry anymore I ain’t ever gonna stop. Aunty Ray senses it too, knows I’m hurting bad, so she gives me something else to focus on and walks me through everything I gotta do to keep myself from getting thrown into prison or dangling from a noose.

  As for the killing and the surviving? I got that handled well enough.