February, 1936

  “You’re telling me this man survived the Bastion raid?” Tornado Joe looked down on his captive, his eyes alight in the shadow of his hat.

  A man had been placed on his knees before him, in a secluded Chicago alleyway. Two other Guns stood around. The hustle of the urban street on either side of the alley gave way to that odd stillness the liminal spaces had in cities like Chicago.

  Nodding, the man looked up to him. His eyes held a heavy sadness, they looked racked with grief and shame. Joe could feel the despair coming off of the man. His clothes were filthy, having clearly not been washed in days.

  “Please, Gradyman!” He cried, “I wanted to see you people, I have something important to tell you!”

  “Spit it out, cultist.” Joe stepped back and forth in front of him.

  Elroy Timmons crossed his arms, standing nearby, “You really gonna listen to this guy, Joe?”

  “Give him a chance.” Chauncy Higgs held up a hand, “He came all the way up here from Texas. Besides, any lead is better than none.”

  Unphased by either side of the discussion, Joe simply glowered down at the Yellow Cultist from the Bastion. After the unsuccessful raid on the Yellow Cult’s compound in Barnhart Texas the month prior, Joe’s heart had lost any sympathy for the wayward servants of the King. After facing down many horrors like Geld and the Sullied, after seeing just what the cultists like this man had done to innocent children, Joe had really only one reaction to them.

  His gut bubbled with disgust.

  “What did you want to tell me. Now.”

  “Well…” The man sputtered, “I managed to escape, but not alone. I have… well I have information. I could spill it… for something in return.”

  “How bout I cut you open, see what you spill.” Elroy stepped towards the man, drawing a knife from his belt.

  Chauncy stepped in front of him, holding an arm out. His Suggestion quieted Elroy’s mood slightly. The pigeons watched curiously from high perches, unaware of the exchange below.

  “Quit it, Higgs!” Elroy could sense himself cooling off with a little help.

  “Enough.” Joe’s eyes flicked to his friend, “It’s fine.”

  “What do you want?” He returned to the cultist.

  “I just want to be forgiven! I will tell you everything I know in exchange for a… well a.. a pardon, I suppose.”

  Without a thought, Joe nodded. “I can make that happen. What should I know?”

  From his spot, the only Heart among them could tell what Joe was thinking. He wondered if Joe had it in him to lie to this man and kill him after getting what he wanted. Joe could tell from the way Chauncy’s head cocked, what he was thinking. Chauncy had not been in the church at Seekson. Nor had he been in the innermost hall of the Bastion, where a cultist like this one had shot several innocent kids dead in their cages.

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  They died like sick animals.

  “You should know there’s one left.” The man gave him pleading eyes, “There’s one of the marked children left!”

  “I know. He’s in our custody” Tornado Joe kept his frame.

  “No, what? He? No I mean a girl.”

  That piqued the interested of the Delta-studded gunslinger. He raised an eyebrow. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, a civilian stumbled into the alley. Holding a bottle in a crumpled brown paper bag, the man swayed and gulped amber liquid down. He hummed an acrid tune and fell onto his butt.

  “Temperance!” The drunkard mused, snickering to himself, “Need a little bit of that temperance. No more temperance! Thank you, Twenty-One! Hehe…”

  Joe nodded to Chauncy, who hit the drunkard with a healthy dose of anxiety. With a gasp, the man picked himself up and shuffled off. Returning to the cultist, Joe showed his teeth.

  “Elaborate.”

  Nodding hastily, the cultist continued, “The, the Doctor! He took the most promising vessel and stole her away when you people arrived that night. I know, I was with him! We took her to a safehouse in Dallas.”

  “She still there?”

  “Naw, no! She isn’t! The Doctor took her away. He said she would make the Journey.”

  “To where?” Joe’s tone hadn’t wavered.

  Cowering from the clearly agitated black Gun behind him, the Cultist shuffled forward a bit. “To the Seething Deep! The great kingdom of our Lord…”

  “Then she’s gone. That’s no help to me.” Tornado Joe paced a bit, “Why you telling me this?”

  “Well, Gradyman, she hasn’t made the journey yet. She’s still here with the Doctor! She can’t make it until the ritual is complete.”

  A feeling hit Tornado Joe, reminding him of Lou Cobb’s face the night of the raid. He remembered seeing him, the flames climbing high behind him. He had been defeated. This was about curing Billy’s kid, for Joe. He had owed that to his teacher for giving him a chance at life.

  For Lou, however, this was about saving everyone he could. Joe remembered that Lou had lied to the dying Mickey. He told him that the children had been rescued. Clearly it was important to the elder Higgs as well. Joe also recalled the pleas of the dead Gun, Arthur Winkle. Even after his brutal death, Winkle only cared for the children in the hands of the Cult. These men were nothing like Billy Baird, their priorities were very clear. Tornado Joe knew he owed it to Lou, Mickey, and Arthur to do everything he could to save this child.

  “What’s the ritual?” Joe glared.

  “I, I don’t know…” the Cultist knew that answer would not be popular, “That’s the truth! But I know it involves a Waxing Crescent, the moon sign of our Lord, a-as well has human sacrifice. That’s all I know about it!”

  Elroy looked to Joe, as if to ask if he could beat some more out of him. Shaking his head, Joe squatted to the cultist’s level.

  “Tell me about the Doctor.”

  “He’s the head honcho of the research into the vessels. He knows everything about them! He’s been untouchable, though. The King favors him…”

  “How do I get to him?”

  “I… I DO have a way…” The cultist reached in his pocket.

  He found a muzzle pressing the back of his head. Elroy wasn’t taking any chances.

  “Christ’s sake!” Chauncy batted his wrist down. “Shit job, with you around…”

  The cultist withdrew a necklace, seeping Yellow energy onto the currents. It held a yellow topaz stone, in the shape of an eye. The low hum it gave off unsettled all three sorcerers.

  “He… he gave this to me, to find him. When I put it on, it vibrates when it looks his direction. You can have it, I’m done with the Cult! I swear! I just wanna get drunk like that guy and live in peace!”

  Everything in Joe’s mind told him not to take the unholy artifact, but Joe had resolved to find this child at any cost. He took the necklace from the man, surprised at how normal it felt. He expected it to itch or burn. In his hand, it just seemed like normal jewelry.

  “I really don’t know anything else.” The cultist shook his head, “I’ve told you Gradymen everything. Plea-“

  His plea was cut short as Joe shot him in between his eyes. The cultist slumped over, the last bit of life firing in his nerves, and then he dropped. With his own admission that he would be of no further use to the Posse, Joe saw fit to put him down like the sick animal he was. He wouldn’t tolerate a single second of the man past what he deemed as absolutely necessary.

  This lifted Elroy’s spirits a bit, who shot him a smirk. It didn’t please Chauncy, who only shook his head in silent resignation. Chauncy held little empathy for the organization that had taken his father from him, but he hated to see an execution.

  “Are we done here, then?” Chauncy’s words belied his disgust for the abrupt killing.

  “We are.” Joe eyed the necklace.

  “Let’s find that son of a bitch.”