Jacob grunted at her, head lolling. Taking it as an agreement, Kitty shoved the gun into his throat and started searching him, taking any weapons she found and depositing them into her own satchel. Gasping against the pain, he glared at her. “Wh-agh! What’s next?”

  “Next I haul you into Delusion and let ‘em hang you for the church.” Kitty looked him over, reaching into her satchel for a bandage. His head and hand were both bleeding, and his arm was starting to look rough, black and purple swelling spreading rapidly below the elbow. “You have any alcohol?” Kitty asked.

  He nodded. “Camp is just around the corner,” he said. Jacob was no longer playing a character.

  “Hold still,” Kitty ordered. She held the lantern up to his head. The wound was shallow, so she wrapped a bandage around it and inspected his hand. Another shallow wound, another quick fix with a bandage. She paused to check her quest progress, confirming it was now at 06/100. Looking at his broken arm, Kitty decided she couldn’t do anything about it just then. She’d need to craft a splint for him.

  As she stood and dusted off her hands, she glared down at the man. Jacob grinned lopsidedly up at her. “Don’t worry, I ain't goin’ nowhere. That head crack debuff is a doozy and my health is low.”

  “How reassuring. You do move and I’ll reapply it for you,” Kitty told him.

  With that she gathered her things and left him, creeping around the hallway toward the last red aura she could see. He was standing in front of the yellow and green auras and holding something at his waist. She could only see the man’s aura, nothing he wore or held, nor any of the surroundings, so she made a couple of guesses. Leaning in the corner before their camp chamber, Kitty opened her satchel and produced an advanced fire bottle. Slipping a finger through the pin, she paused with a small sigh. She should try and do the right thing.

  “Against my better nature, I’m givin’ you a single chance,” Kitty announced. “Give up now and you won’t have to die screamin’ at my hands.” She spoke around the corner, keeping far enough back to avoid any potential gunfire.

  “Come and get me bitch!” the man shouted at her, his voice shaking.

  “You should . . . listen.” Nels’ voice sounded weakly from the floor behind the man. “Miss Kitty . . . doesn’t offer twice.”

  “And I enjoy fire. Possibly an unhealthy amount. I can’t really tell though; my therapist doesn’t like talkin’ about it with me anymore.” Kitty grinned.

  “Wha-“ The man started, trailing off. “What is wrong with you people??”

  “Lots ‘a stuff. Don’t worry, you’re about three seconds from finding out.” Kitty started counting down in her head.

  “Okay fine! Jeeze, just take your friends and leave me alone,” he said. Nels’ short barreled repeater came sliding out into the tunnel and when Kitty looked through the wall, she saw the man’s aura raising its hands. She stepped around the corner, still holding the fire bottle in her hands.

  His eyes flitted to the weapon. “Holy shit, you weren’t kidding,” he said. The man’s shoulder and leg were bandaged.

  “Still ain't,” Kitty replied. She crouched beside Nels and slid her skinning knife out, cutting the ropes that bound his hands. He took the knife from her and freed his own legs, then moved over to cut Mitchel free, first removing the gag in his mouth.

  “Damn it’s good to see you Kit,” the marshal said. Mitchel’s eye was swollen and bruised, but he seemed to be in good shape otherwise. Once he was free, he stood and took a length of rope in both hands, approaching the last remaining thug. “Do not resist, or I’ll show you the hospitality of your own house.”

  “What?” The player’s eyes went wide as his hands were tied behind his back. “Hey what the hell? Screw this!” He went slack, his eyes going blank as he sat down roughly, and his head sagged to his chest.

  Mitchel raised his chin for a second before letting it drop. “He’s gone catatonic. Seen it before, he can’t take the shock of being arrested.”

  Nels stepped up to Kitty and leaned in close. “Miss Kitty?”

  “Logged out, I think,” she whispered back, before taking stock of the cavern they were in.

  It was tiny, a cramped little shallow room with a trickle of sunlight filtering in from the crack in the roof above. Kitty could still catch a faint whiff of the chamomile she had dumped into their guttering fire, which sat in the direct center of the small room. It was surprisingly clean, leading Kitty to believe the cannibal Abraham didn’t share the space. A large threadbare blanket was spread out on one side of the room, with a bedroll over it and a handful of sundries scattered around the fire. Kitty found the alcohol she had been looking for, a tall bottle of Tennessee Bourbon. She motioned to the items in the cave.

  “Nels, grab all this stuff, would ya?” Kitty asked. When he nodded in the affirmative, she walked back to Jacob, having noticed that her Peyote buff was starting to wear off again and not wanting to lose the man. She offered him a pull at the bottle, which he took with a heavy sigh.

  “So what about my arm?” Jacob flopped it uselessly at his side, the angle all wrong.

  Kitty glanced at him. “I’ll try and find something to make you a splint out of. Otherwise, the doc back in town’ll have to fix it.”

  “Oh no shit, you’re on the perk quest too? How many heals have you got? My guy back there just got me over the twenty mark, but really Abraham is great for this quest.” He went for another pull on the bottle, which she took away after he was done, corking it and depositing it into her satchel. “Hey I don’t really wanna get hanged,” Jacob suddenly announced. “Doesn’t sound like an appealing gaming experience.”

  “Feel free to log out, I don’t actually need you anymore,” Kitty said, motioning him to stand up with her revolver. By the time he struggled to his feet, Mitchel and Nels were ready, and they led the men back up to the cave above them. Kitty watched for signs of Abraham but saw and heard nothing as they moved through the caves. He must have hidden in a passage somewhere and let them pass. She called a stop before they turned the final corner and leaned out slightly.

  “Earl? Comin’ out!” Kitty shouted at the last corner.

  When the man shouted his understanding, they moved through the cave. Kitty helped Earl to his feet and slung his arm around her shoulder to help him walk. They trudged out of the cave into a fresh rainstorm, moving slowly toward the clearing their horses were in. The gang's horses had fled after the gunfight, Kitty lighting things on fire proving to be too much for them to bear.

  It took them most of an hour to get moving again. Aside from having to craft a splint for Jacob’s mangled arm, Kitty had plenty of chores to manage. Fetching their horses, getting a partial sled built for the bodies, and keeping their prisoners in line. All of it was surprisingly time consuming. Jacob was more or less co-operative, and he seemed genuinely interested in what was going on around him, but his hired thug was a problem.

  The man would occasionally log back in, wiggle free of his restraints, and make a run for it. Nels kept an eye on him and recaptured him with relative ease every time he would break free. Without fail, the man would struggle and curse at them, before rage-quitting again.

  Getting Earl into his saddle wasn’t easy, but once he was up, he steadied himself and nodded grimly. “It don’t feel nice, but I’ll be alright,” the NPC said. Their partial sled, crafted from the remainder of the planks and the large blanket from the cave, was attached to the back of his saddle.

  Kitty figured he’d be riding slow anyway, the rest of the posse could ride outlier and protect him better unencumbered. She stopped to wring out her hair before mounting her own horse. The miserable rain had gone from an annoying sprinkle to a full blown storm. Trees were swaying with the wind in their clearing, and Mitchel seemed anxious to be off, looking to the sky often.

  As they started the slow paced journey back to town, Kitty squinted at the sunset in the distance. The desert plain in front of her was bathed in the sunset’s colors, changing the hard rock and mud into a shifting tapestry of shades and colors.

  She turned to Nels. “Awful early for nightfall already, ain't it?”

  He moved in closer, to avoid the NPCs hearing. “Two days per day.”

  Kitty narrowed her eyes at him. “Does that mean that for every single day that would pass in the real world, two pass here?”

  Nels glanced up, mouth working as he did some math in his head. “Yes.”

  “Call it ‘twelve hour days’ Nels, people will understand you better.” She smiled at him gently. Nels had always been a good companion, if infuriatingly odd at times. He grinned in reply, and hunched into his jacket further, defending against the rain.

  She scowled and dug out some of her dried meat to munch on, hanging her canteen open at her side so it would fill with the steady rain. Her jerky was surprisingly pleasant, more chewy than tough, and nicely spiced with mild flavorful peppers of some sort or other. Just enough to bring a pleasing heat to the back of her palate. Once she finished a piece of it and replenished her hunger bar, Kitty made a mental note to check out more of the games’ culinary offerings.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  A lightning strike lit up the desert around them, distracting her from her jerky. A few seconds later the ominous rumble of thunder rolled over the group. Mitchel huddled into his jacket a bit more, steering his horse closer to Kitty’s.

  “Kit! Storms gettin’ worse, we should maybe take cover for the night!” The marshal shouted to be heard, pushing the incoherent prisoner in front of him aside briefly.

  Kitty thought for a moment. “Any cover between here and Delusion?” Kitty shouted.

  “No! We’d have to go back, take shelter in the cave,” Mitchell yelled. He looked unhappy at the prospect.

  Kitty wiped rain from her face, standing in the saddle and craning to see into the distance. After a minute in that position, she saw a faint glimmer and sat back down. “I see the town! We keep going!”

  Mitchel nodded at her and moved back into formation. Two more lightning strikes in rapid succession proved his point for him though, and each member of the posse hunched down further into their warm clothes. Kitty was lacking in those, and the clothing she had bought back in town was beyond soaked. She was getting tired of being unendingly wet, and a nasty chill was setting in.

  When Kitty brought up her HUD, a blue tinged debuff was awaiting her, a mouth with chattering teeth the primary indicator of its purpose. Her health bar was no longer slowly trickling up and had small traces of what looked like ice surrounding it. After a moment of thought, she called a stop and opened the body carrier, removing one of the corpses' shotgun coats and wrapping it around her own shoulders. Her posse looked on in mild horror, but no one said anything.

  A gulp of whiskey removed the debuff and allowed her health to start crawling upward again. The posse trudged onward, dealing with very little trouble aside from the rain. Nels brought up the rear of their formation, with Kitty in front of him, holding Jacob before her on the saddle. Earl led the group, his bad leg setting their pace. To his credit, he kept them at a brisk walk, but anything more was simply too painful for the man to withstand. Kitty had instructed him to use the alcohol in his flask, but he was reticent, his shame at having brought it along obvious.

  Mitchel rode alongside Earl, carrying their occasionally obstinate prisoner tied across the back of his horse. The man continued to log in and back out, seemingly attempting to take them by surprise. He was largely unsuccessful, the only time he managed to wiggle free ending with him recaptured in the first few seconds of his newfound freedom.

  Dealing with the rain was turning out to be the biggest problem with their prisoner transport, and that was hardly difficult. Kitty was smiling in spite of the wet and cold as they entered the gully she had found her peyote in. A small but steady stream of flowing water had formed in their absence, and the posse had some difficulty getting through. Earl hung back as the rest of the group crossed, waiting for help with the dragging bag they had crafted for the corpses. It was little more than a blanket sewn around a crude frame haphazardly thrown together. They would lose the bag, bodies, and bounties if he tried to cross with it alone.

  The gully was suddenly home to a modest stream, with knee high water flowing rapidly downstream, passing the small trellis housing the train’s rails, and plummeting into empty space off the edge of the map.

  Reaching the other side, Kitty poked Jacob in the shoulder. “Down.”

  The other man shook his head and huddled against the saddle. “No way. Getting on and off this horse hurts my arm,” the player complained.

  Without really thinking, Kitty shoved at his side and dumped him from the saddle. Demounting, she stopped for a second, turning back to Jacob. He was on his side, glaring at her while cradling his bad arm and struggling to control his breathing.

  She stared back at him before shrugging. “Sorry. I’m new at this whole ‘being good’ thing, and you really piss me off sometimes.” Kitty motioned to Nels, who was huddled down into his jacket as much as he could be, while his dappled pony trotted lightly through the flowing water. “Watch him, I’m going to help them cross!” She had to shout to be heard over the wind and rain.

  Going back without her horse was significantly more difficult, as the water seemed to have risen again in the few minutes since she crossed. Slogging through the waist high water was made more dangerous by varying debris washing downstream. Kitty pushed past a branch in the water, keeping an eye on a large section of old desiccated cactus that thankfully seemed set on missing her.

  Once on the other side again, she lifted the back end of the body bag and shouted up to Earl to get moving. He flicked his reins and got his horse walking, albeit at a slow pace. As they began trudging through the water, Mitchel shouted and started waving his arms. When he saw Kitty leaning around the side of the horse to see, he pointed upstream. Kitty felt the vibrations in her legs as she was turning to see it coming.

  A flash flood.

  Of course. The game had given her all the right clues, all the right chances to avoid it. The wall of mud coming at her was solid, full of debris and scrub brush, and it was moving as fast as a horse at full gallop. Kitty reacted. Her skinning knife was out in a flash and the body bag was cut free. It hurt losing those bounties, but the alternative was losing the bounties and Earl at the same time. Once it was free and floating, she gave the horse a fast open palm slap, sending it jumping away. It barely cleared the mud slide, and Kitty just crossed her arms, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes as it hit.

  It felt like she was kicked by the entire world, then slammed through the dirty water, directly into the hardest part of the ground. Bright lights chased stars throughout her head as she tried desperately to get her feet underneath herself. She kicked helplessly as she struggled under the sludge, quickly discovering that she had no idea what direction was ‘up’ anymore. Limbs locked in the trauma position, she suddenly stopped moving as an arm caught her around the midsection. She broke the surface and gasped for air, whipping her head around.

  Mitchel had her, his horse standing half in the rushing water. He had raced downriver after warning her and waded out a ways to try and catch her. The prisoner on the back of his horse had the bad timing to log back in at that moment. “Hey what the hell!” He began to wiggle furiously.

  Kitty slung her arm around Mitchel and clung to the man as he started hauling them back to the edge of the gully. His horse began to slowly back up at a shout, dragging them both through the torrent. A lightning flash lit up the world and Kitty saw the new surge an instant before it hit them and the horse. She got her hand through Mitchel’s belt and clamped down, but the next swell of water swept the entire group away.

  Mitchel’s horse screamed in terror, drowning out the screams of the prisoner hooked to its saddle. They got turned around in the fast moving water and Kitty found herself holding onto the back of the horse desperately as it thrashed and kicked, trying to right itself. The prisoner was upside down, head below the muck as his legs wheeled around wildly. He was still hooked to the saddle and hogtied, and Kitty took an instant to pity the man before lightning struck again.

  They were rapidly approaching the railroad trellis, and Kitty could barely make out a dark figure on horseback racing towards it from the direction they had come. His horse was massive and black, with a dapple of lighter red across its underside. As thunder washed over them, she watched the man drop from his still galloping horse into the flood directly ahead of them and brace his legs on either side of the trellis pillars. The mud and water slammed into him, but he lowered his head and spread his arms as three people and a horse barreled down on him.

  Kitty stopped with a sudden jerk, almost losing her grip on the saddle rigging. Mud and water fanned up around her head and she coughed and spluttered into Abrahams face as he reached over the animal and grabbed the back of her shirt. She noticed he already had Mitchel under his other arm as he lifted her bodily out of the water and heaved her up onto the tracks. Water and mud was sloshing over the wooden structure, but it was holding, so she clung to it for life, trying to breathe between surges of liquid.

  Mitchel landed beside her with a wet thud, and she grabbed at his belt. The man seemed to be unconscious, and the water was still surging around them at dangerous speeds. Abraham climbed up as the horse tumbled free of the trellis on the other side. It screamed as its head broke the surface one final time, being joined by the prisoner attached to its back. Both of them wailed in unison as they dropped out of sight off the edge of the map, the sounds continuing to echo long after Kitty thought they would stop.

  Abraham lifted her and Mitchel under an arm each, taking slow deliberate steps as he walked out of the flood zone. Once they were clear, Kitty wiggled free and immediately dropped to her knees, vomiting mud and water she hadn’t even realized she’d swallowed. She scrambled over to Mitchel, but the man was fine, breathing steadily and even. His only injury was a rapidly growing goose egg on the forehead. Relieved, Kitty slumped on the ground beside him, allowing the rain to wash some of the mud from her face as she stared up at Abraham.

  “Thank you, Abraham,” Kitty said, her voice deceptively strong. She wiped at her eyes and slung the mud away, before smiling up at him. “Does this mean we’re friends?”

  He stared at her for a few seconds, eyes narrowed under his long messy hair. “You’re not prey.”

  She turned and slapped Mitchel in an attempt to wake the man. “I’ll take it. Sounds like a good start.”

  Mitchel awoke and retched, spitting out some muck. He stumbled to his feet and looked around, spotting Abraham and drawing his dripping revolver. It clicked on chambers as he pointed it and fired multiple times but wouldn’t function. Kitty slowly and deliberately reached out and forced his hand down, as Mitchel gaped like a fish and looked at her in confusion.

  “He saved our lives, Mitchel.” She looked between the men and shook her head. “He’s with me now.”

  “Whatever you say Kit.” Mitchel seemed hesitant, but he holstered his useless revolver. Guns didn’t work after being submerged. Kitty made a mental note of that as they returned to the group. Jacob lit up when he saw Abraham.

  “Oh man am I glad to see you, big guy,” Jacob exclaimed. “Kill these idiots and cut me free, you’ll be able to eat for days on this lot.” His face dropped when he met Abrahams eyes though. The big man didn’t say anything, just reached down and lifted Jacob onto the back of his horse, hooking him into place behind his saddle.

  Kitty was pleased that she hadn’t lost her shotgun or satchel in the flood, but the cardboard shells in the gun were clearly soaked through and useless so she ejected them onto the sand and fished out new ones from her satchel to load.

  Whatever inventory system the satchel represented seemed to be waterproof, which she decided was a fair mechanic after some thought. She took a long pull from the whiskey bottle and passed it around, making sure Jacob got a drink as well. He wasn’t speaking anymore, just glaring at anyone who approached him.

  Mitchel refused to ride double with anyone, stating firmly that he could walk. With Earl’s leg, that was their maximum pace anyway, so nobody pushed him too hard. As the rain was finally letting up, the posse entered town in the dead of night. Nobody was on the streets, and the only building lit up was the saloon, as usual. As they walked past it to lock Jacob in his cell at the sheriff’s office, Kitty saw something through the window that raised her blood pressure.

  A man was sitting at the poker table, facing the window. He wore a fine charcoal colored suit, with a black satin string bow tie and a black vest over a spotless white shirt. His olive complexion was lit up in a smile, exaggerating his Balbo-style beard and mustache combination. As she glared at him through the window, he nodded to a fellow player and said a few words that seemed to make the entire table burst out in laughter. While they laughed, he lifted a small ceramic cup of coffee to his lips and took a sip, while slipping a card from the table and replacing it with another.

  “Get him settled and set a guard,” Kitty told Mitchel. “This one will escape if he’s not watched at all times.” She snarled unconsciously as she stalked up the steps of the saloon to the batwing doors. Everyone in the place turned to look at her except the gambler as she stepped into the room, still dripping mud and rainwater.

  Nels happily slipped past her and approached the sullen prostitute, saying something to her that brought a wide smile to her face. The two of them headed upstairs together, with her leading the way.

  Kitty walked over to the poker table and snatched the chair out from underneath the gambler, spinning and slamming it back down over the top of him as he flopped to the floor. His arms were pinned at his sides as she sat down in a straddle over the chair. Kitty swept her filthy hair back, looked down into his face, and growled out the words, “Hello Kurtis.”