A somber aura hung around Team Bootknife as they travelled back to the Smokies. All three boys, having each been defeated in their own way, sat silently on the train ride back. After their ordeal, the ride in the passenger train made Calvin uneasy and uncomfortable. Mavis and Elise remained quiet in their own car, with the latter of the two having particularly become affected by their encounter with the Oathbreaker Six-Guns. The only one who seemed to behave as normal was the Bootknife himself.

  Logan had gone back to the Hobo Jungle and spoken to Lord Albatross personally, pushing past any who tried to interfere. As it turned out, Lord Albatross hadn’t had anything to do with the ghost train setup. It had been Frenchie, the Hobo who filled them in on the situation, who knew the ghost train was a front for Flush’s operation. Lord Albatross promised Logan he would apprehend Frenchie and deal with him in keeping with Hobo Code. Wanting to avoid any political ramifications between the Posse and the Hobo Lords, Logan accepted that answer and left the camp. Though he made it very clear if he heard of more Six-Guns being jumped at this Hobo Jungle, he would personally see to it that Lord Albatross ‘went the way of the dodo’.

  Sitting on the train, Logan lit up another cigar. “Yup, I’m thinking a hard salami sandwich would do me some good. Yellow mustard. Think they got that here. What you boys think?”

  John turned his heat to look at him. The young man appeared haggard, having not slept a wink since the ordeal. Dark bags hung from his eyes, his hair disheveled under his hat. A dull ache in his shoulder kept him rubbing it.

  “What’s that look for?” Logan raised an eyebrow, “You wouldn’t be feeling so bad if you’d only eat the candies I gave you. They’re alchemical.”

  “I dunno how you can eat, teach. We almost lost Calvin.”

  This wasn’t the main reason behind John’s demeanor. What had really bothered him was his own inaction. Not Divine Inaction, the kind Logan employed in his standoff against that terror Flush. No, John recognized he had frozen up almost the entire time; particularly when his own life was on the table. He hadn’t been able to shoot the Oathbreaker who came for him. Logan had to do all the work. It was just as bad that Calvin had been victimized.

  “I know that, but he didn’t die. He’s sitting right there.” Logan gestured to the now-scarred Calvin Baird.

  “Look, it’s my job to protect you boys. Strictly speaking, I failed at that. But I’m not beat up. Seen this a thousand times. There’s sometimes simply nothing you can do. I only have two hands.”

  The boys listened to the veteran gunslinger-sorcerer as he imparted a bit of unplanned wisdom in this dark hour. Logan, being of the Hearts suit, held his emotions in check. Though there were topics even he kept off the table, he had learned to master his feelings such that these times didn’t break him down.

  He continued, “If Calvin was dead right now I’d be feeling just like you guys. But you’re not dead, are you Cal? Yet again, you survived. You’re a survivor, just like I said. Granted, its cause those Yellow fucks hit you with a freebee, so you say. But I’ll take it, fuck!”

  Logan let out a chuckle, “Don’t get none of those myself!”

  This drew a few smiles from the passenger booth.

  Calvin listened to each and every word. He needed them at that moment, himself deeply conflicted by the events of the night before. Like John, he had frozen up. He recognized that had Logan faltered even a step they would ALL be dead. It left him with a deeply powerless feeling. All the training heh ad been going through had meant nothing in the face of a true threat like Flush. That was not a good feeling.

  Furthermore, those figures he had seen concerned him. He tossed over the image of them in his head ceaselessly, trying to come up with answers. The only one he recognized as the man of coal, the one from his dreams. Until now, he believed he had been imagining the nightmarish entity. He believed it was just some scary thing his young mind conjured to torture him in his sleep. Now, he felt forced to contend with it as a real entity.

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  Buster too felt the pain of having been completely useless in the fight. Even he found it impossible to keep up his spirits at this time. They had all been given a gut check except for Logan.

  “I wouldn’t have wanted this for you boys either.” Logan shrugged, “Let’s just move past it, lick your wounds and learn what we can. It is good that you experienced this first thing; now you see how bad it can be out there.”

  The boys sat in silence for a moment, accepting the truth of their teacher’s words.

  “How about that salami, huh?” Logan broke the quiet

  Each of them gave him a withering look.

  ^^^

  Eating their salami sandwiches, the boys watched the mountains come into view. Their train ride reached its final leg. The witches joined them, piling into the booth. Logan had bought each of the young ladies a more delicious roast beef sandwich and a hot chocolate. Little things like these reminded Elise that this Logan was in fact an esteemed member of Grady’s Posse, even when his attitude betrayed his station. Her mother taught her that seasoned Six-Guns always minded the sensibilities of women, especially those carrying Hearts cards. Elise observed Logan’s prickly demeanor at all times, but his actions carried something a little more in regards to her and Mavis which went unsaid.

  “It was different, watching you fight.” John finally spoke up. “My brothers never fought each other like that.”

  “Sparring ain’t real combat.” Answered the Bootknife.

  “Yeah, but its still an exchange. How come you don’t use too many spells?”

  “Spells cost a lot of Resolve. I don’t use them if I don’t have too. If we’re in tight, like a train car, I can just slit his throat. You should always go for the route that uses up the least amount of your Resolve. You’re dead if you run out.”

  The cold words hit John a little harder after having seen it in person. He realized now that Logan never talked big or exaggerated for effect.

  “Why do you call yourself the Bootknife?” Cal added, still holding his sandwich.

  This piqued Elise’s interest. She wondered how people got their nicknames too.

  “I don’t.” Logan chewed on the last bit of salami and mustard.

  Shooting him a flat look, Calvin continued to eat.

  “People started calling me that after I spent a lot of time with the Nootu.”

  “Do you like that name?” Asked Elise, sipping her hot beverage.

  Logan let the hills roll by as he figured out how to answer that question.

  “It’s not a cool nickname, it’s a reminder to the Posse.”

  This baffled the team. Reading their quizzical looks, Logan sighed.

  “We call ourselves the Guns, representing the pistols on our hips. Those are killing instruments, to be sure, but there’s a nobility to the Pistol on your belt. You carry it around for all to see to let them know that you’re there to protect them, with deadly force if you have to. The pistol can be used offensively or defensively. You can use it to make people surrender. Having it on your hip gives everyone in your way a choice, just by looking at it. They can try you, or they can leave you be.”

  Calvin hadn’t thought of his pistol this way. He remembered talking about them with Logan on his way up to meet Crickett. To see Logan’s interpretation this time, especially after watching him use his pistol, made him question his earlier thoughts on the subject.

  “A knife in your boot is different.” Logan looked to the floor, “It’s a hidden blade, a trick. A bootknife is used for only one thing; to murder somebody quickly and unexpectedly. There’s nothing noble or sportsmanlike about it. It doesn’t offer people choices, it takes them away.”

  “And the message to the Posse?” John cocked his head.

  “That this is what it takes to cover their mistakes. To take down oathbreaking Six-Guns, people WE made, requires you to become something different entirely.”

  That answer did not uplift the boys. Calvin hadn’t thought about this side of the Posse before. Listening to Louey talk about their job and duty, it seemed like the Posse was this universal force for good. It was a no-brainer; they protected people. That was the end of it, to hear Louey tell it. Calvin had never thought he would be shot by another sorcerer-gunslinger. He wondered if Louey just didn’t think about this side of things, or if he was only keeping things positive for a young orphan.

  “Can you teach me to fight other Guns?” John asked, his face stern.

  “You wanna kick Willerbee’s ass.”

  John only repeated harshly, “Will you teach me, Logan?”

  The car sat in silent anticipation for a moment as Logan sat back. John wanted to be able to take down his enemy, Vincent Willerbee. Watching Logan fight, he knew that was the way. The feeling had crept into Calvin’s mind that he would have to meet the threat of this Coal Man, so he too wanted to learn. Buster had simply been outclassed, and Comedy magic wouldn’t pull him through these situations either. He too was ready to learn.

  “You’re all Team Bootknife, ain’t you?” Logan tilted his head.

  The boys nodded in agreement.

  “Then I’ll make sure you fight like it.”