Arc marched up the stairwell, his boots clinking and clanking with every step he took on his way to the rooftop. He had his revolver in one hand, loaded with six rounds, and his scarf tied tightly around his neck, just shy of choking him. He had bid farewell to Julie moments ago, very much aware that it may be the last time he saw the girl.

  “I’m going to get Jack out alive,” was one of the last things he said to her before their separation.

  The bounty hunter fully intended to do just that, even if it cost him his life, but he also had no intention of dying. Colt was clever and capable, but his weakness was his cockiness. He had heard such things before, but the meeting between the two a fortnight ago had proven it.

  Arc paused outside the door to the roof and took a deep breath while his free hand hovered just over the metal.

  “Here goes nothing,” he muttered, pushing the door open and stepping out into the wispy streaks of moonlight that were broken by the dark clouds drifting across the sky.

  Arc’s eyes darted across the rooftop. He knew what it looked like, having taken it all in during his brief reconnaissance session no more than an hour ago, but it was now playing host to a few visitors. Tied to a railing was the badly beaten Jack. The young man could barely see out of his two blackened eyes. He had a wad of cloth stuffed into his mouth and he was trying to shout to Arc, no doubt a futile attempt to warn him about some cunning trap that Colt had been bragging about moments prior.

  Beside Jack, holding a large shotgun, was the bandit Arc and Julie had nicknamed Jolly Roger. He wasn’t looking too jolly, no doubt because of the deaths of his many fallen comrades by Arc’s hand. Perhaps some of them had been close friends, but Arc wasn’t fazed by the man’s angry sneer. After all, Roger had five other friends hanging out on the rooftop with him so it was quite the party. The rest of the bandits shared Roger’s fury with their own foul-faced stares. The only one who looked like he was enjoying himself was the big boss himself.

  Standing at the far side of the roof, holding his copper spellcaster rod to his shoulder, was the smirking bandit leader; Colt the Scourge. His default disposition was of a man who was always having the time of his life. Threatening lives and life-threatening situations were his bread and butter, but throw in some vengeance and he was as giddy as could be. If Arc had enough wealth to loot, Colt might have just spontaneously combusted then and there.

  “We going to chat first before you try and kill me?” asked Arc before Colt had the chance to speak.

  “Of course!” called the bandit leader, his voice brimming with enthusiasm.

  “Good,” said Arc, flicking his gun out and shooting Roger in the gut.

  He grabbed his stomach with one hand and his expression turned from rageful to one of despair as he staggered backwards. As the other bandits brought their fingers to their triggers, Jolly Roger’s shotgun fell from his hands and clunked to the ground. The bandit gasped as he tripped over the railing, sending him tumbling from the roof to his death upon the concrete below.

  “Just a little payback for kidnapping the young lad,” said Arc, holding his gun up and pointing it to the sky. “I don’t take kindly to my friends being kidnapped and beaten. I’m sure you understand, Colt.”

  The bandit leader cackled wildly. “You are quite the character, Arc the Hawk,” he said once he calmed down. “I’ll let that one slide, my friend, but any more of those and I’ll be forced to gun you down mercilessly. I’m sure you understand, Arc.”

  “I do,” said Arc, giving a curt nod.

  “So, where’s the girl?” asked Colt, exaggeratedly looking around. “I believe I requested her presence too, did I not?”

  “You did.”

  “And?”

  “And I sent her on her way because I’d prefer she kept her life even if Jack and I lose ours. Might as well have at least one survivor from our little posse. After all, you had all the aces.”

  “Makes sense,” said Colt with a shrug. “She was hardly a threat, but I was looking forward to collecting the whole set. And what about that fancy little piece of yours, that spellcaster I was eyeing up the other day?”

  “With the girl, just in case any of your minions give her any trouble. That way, she doesn’t need to rely on accuracy.”

  Colt raised an eyebrow. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you, Arc.”

  Arc set his revolver on the ground, took off his jacket and kicked off his boots before turning around on the spot. He then put them all back on and picked up his revolver, all the while Colt’s men looked on in disbelief. Arc wasn’t sure if it was because they thought he was incredibly bold or if it was because they didn’t know why he hadn’t been blasted off the roof by now.

  “That’s a real shame,” said Colt, pointing his gun at Arc. “I was hoping we’d have a real duel, my friend. Spellslinger to spellslinger. Our last one was cut short on account of that spell collision blowing up another one of my beautiful trucks.”

  “So that’s what happened, is it?” asked Arc. “My memory is a bit foggy.”

  “Pair of us got knocked out good and clean, so my buddy Jimmy tossed me into the passenger seat and we sped off. He got a real telling off when I woke up because he didn’t bother killing you and taking your weapon, but I let it slide. It was a highly pressurised situation and the poor sod just wanted to get me to safety; can’t fault that. He made things right in the end by finding young Jack. At least he did some good before you killed him.”

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  “He had it coming,” said Arc coldly.

  “You’re a heartless bastard, ain’t you?” asked Colt with another guffaw. “Only thing you’re worried about in this life is those two kids, eh? They’re not yours, Arc, you’re much too young.” Colt licked his lips. “It really is a shame you didn’t bring the girl. We could use a plaything around here.”

  Arc had to fight the urge to run across the roof and strangle the bandit. “So, Colt,” he said, pushing his emotions down. “What way’s this going to go then?”

  “Seeing as you didn’t bother bringing any aces to the table, I’m going to have to find another way to make some fun. I reckon I’ll start by blowing your arms off and then my buddies here can use you as a punching bag for a while. There’s a nice rusty hook down below that we can stick inside your throat. We’ll dangle you over the factory floor for a few days until you stink up the place so bad that we dump you in an unmarked grave somewhere. Sound good?”

  “I don’t think I’d like that at all.”

  “Well, Arc,” said Colt, closing one eye as he pointed his spellcaster at the bounty hunter. “I’m afraid, you don’t got a choice.”

  “Wait,” said Arc, holding up his right hand. “There’s one more thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  A gunshot rang out and Colt dropped his weapon, startling his men who all turned to him. Arc dove for his gun on the ground and unleashed five shots, hitting each of his targets and killing two of them instantly. The last two bandits standing turned on him and raised their weapons only to be shot in the side from a broken roof window underneath.

  Colt the Scourge seized his weapon with his good arm right as Arc the Hawk reached over his shoulder and pulled his spellcaster out from under his scarf. The two aimed their weapons at each other and fired their Arcane Shots. The two magical spheres flew across the roof, colliding and emitting a wave of energy that knocked Arc and Colt to the ground.

  The spellslingers shot two more Arcane Shots, each of them colliding. They burst, releasing their intense shockwaves as the men gritted their teeth and forced their eyes to remain open. Arc climbed to his feet and charged for Colt, out of Arcane Shots. He held his spellcaster out and, as the bandit leader arose and pulled the trigger, Arc pulled his own trigger.

  His cylinder glowed its familiar blue once again as the white cartridge within unleashed its spell. An ethereal circular shield formed in front of the gun, reaching from Arc’s head to the ground. It moved along with him as he ran, staying fixed in place until Colt’s Arcane Shot struck it, shattering it into magical fragments that dissipated in the air.

  He was now close enough to his mark. Arc dropkicked Colt in the chest and sent the wicked bandit flying over the railings. For the first time since Arc had known him, he had a look of fear on his face as he bumped into the glass windows. He slid down and desperately tried to find something to grab onto, but it was no use. He slid right over the edge of the factory and fell fifty feet through the air, his face contorting and twisting the further he fell. He landed on the ground with a thick thud and a harrowing crack that echoed in the night. From underneath his bloody and broken body, burst a cloud of dust and Colt the Scourge would move no more.

  Arc looked around the rooftop, making sure that he and Jack were alone before rushing over to his young friend and cutting him free of his bindings with his knife. Jack tried to speak, forgetting that he was gagged, and only emitted an incoherent mumbling. Arc grabbed the cloth and pulled it from the young man’s mouth, tossing it aside and giving the boy a moment to breathe before saying anything.

  “You alright, bud?” he asked him as Jack massaged his sore wrists where the ropes had cut into them.

  “Much better now,” he sighed before looking around. “Where’s Julie? Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine. Who do you think shot Colt and killed two of his men?”

  Jack was astounded. “Julie did that?”

  “She’s become quite the shot in the last…what, twelve hours?”

  “I don’t believe it…” muttered Jack, his eyes wide. “You’re serious?”

  “You alright down there, Julie?” Arc called to the window beneath the metal walkway where she had shot from.

  “Yes,” she said, sounding uneasy.

  “See?” Arc said to Jack with a grin.

  “That’s…I don’t know what to say.” The young man started laughing incredulously before sweeping his hair back and breathing out a sigh of relief.

  “Please get down here before more of them show up,” Julie pleaded.

  “Well, you heard her,” said Arc, giving Jack a shrug. “You alright to walk, Jacky Boy, or do you need a piggyback?”

  “I can walk,” said Jack before holding out his hand to Arc. “Thank you…again.”

  “No thanks necessary,” said Arc, accepting the handshake. “If you hadn’t been walking through Pembroke with me in the first place, Jolly Roger wouldn’t have kidnapped you for bait.”

  “Jolly Roger?”

  “Ah, what did Colt call him? Jimmy?”

  “I don’t remember. Colt talks a lot.”

  Arc nodded. “The man doesn’t know when to shut up, does he? Well, perhaps I should say he didn’t know when to shut up. If he’d shot me the second I stepped onto the roof, he’d still be alive and I’d be dead instead.”

  “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

  “No arguments here.”

  Arc walked from bandit to bandit, lifting their guns, ammunition, and whatever coins they had on them. He stashed them all in his bag to sort through later, intending to give some to Jack and Julie as a parting gift whenever they made it back to Pembroke. Seeing as Arc had wasted all of his spell cartridges, at least he’d now be able to afford some new ones. No doubt with Colt’s disruption of the supply chains, the bandit leader would have some on his body down below.

  “What was that spell you used?” asked Jack, looking at the golden gun holstered by Arc’s side.

  “They call it Minor Shield,” said Arc, tapping his spellcaster. “Very useful spell and the first spell I ever witnessed being used by a mage. Remember how I told you about the different schools? Well, that white cartridge you found for me lets me bring up a barrier that protects me for a short while or until it’s shattered by something stronger. All it took was one of Colt’s Arcane Shots to break it, but it bought me the time I needed.”

  “Why not use that one first?” asked Jack. “Could have saved yourself some cartridges.”

  “Did I look like I had time to load things on the spot?” asked Arc. “I thought there was a chance I’d need to use those Arcane Shots on his men if they took my revolver away. But Colt proved to be more arrogant and sloppier than I first presumed. Again, I’m glad of that, but still.”

  “So, the lesson here is to shoot before your enemy gets the chance to shoot you?”

  “Seems obvious, you’d think?” chuckled Arc, taking out one of the looted handguns. “You know how to shoot, Jack?”

  “Barely,” he said, gingerly accepting the gun. “My dad showed me when I was younger, but I didn’t get much chance to practice.”

  “Hello?” called Julie squeakily from below. “I don’t like being down here by myself.”

  “Coming now,” said Arc, patting Jack on the back and making him wince. “Sorry, pal,” he added apologetically as the young man nursed his wounds.