Chapter 14, Part One

No Honor  Ch. 14 Pt. 1: Family

Due to 'is tumble, Jonas's right shoulder, was out o' place. None of us felt sure enough, about settin' it right, but Carter said 'Danca', would know how. The cowboy bound Jonas's hands, with rope. Rex complained, and spat out a few insults, but after that, he was pretty quiet.

We got 'is stallion up. The cowboy took the saddle, and Jonas was put on the horse, in front of 'im. We rode back to tha Station, and back ta 3rd. Carter wanted a second look at that wagon, and he told me after, that Junior was in there trampled, but Elder was missin'. There was no drugs in there at awl. So where that stash was, was anyone's guess.

I was su'prised ta see, that our next stop was the grocery, right on 3rd. We rode 'round to tha back, and there was a single section o' iron fence there, under the roof, that jutted out a ways. This we tied our horses to, but Carter didn't think it was smart, ta have Jonas's stallion there. The cowboy said he was sore, so Mystery volunteered, ta ride 'im over to tha stable.

I knew who the cowboy was, 'fore we went inside. I knew 'im caused he worked there, and whenever I needed to stock up on food, he'd be the one tendin' shop.

I said, "How you mixed up in this Norman?"

He looked at me, then he removed 'is hat an' scarf. Norman was yer average lookin' fella. Not tawl, but not short. Not skinny, nor fat neither. His hair's a bit long, but otha than that, there was nothin' outta the ways about 'im.

He said, "I been in this since my paw was killed. Since Marco had him beat ta death... I'm sure you heard about it by now."

"Goodman was your father? I didn't know that... But that ain't ya name, is it?"

"It wasn't his either... I'm Norman Fleischer. My paw was Thomas Fleischer. Goodman's just a name he went by."

What I said ta Carter, about no one havin' family in tha Station, it hit me then. I wasn't lyin' at tha time, I just... I didn't see that wasn't true.

Jonas turned ta Carter behind 'im, and he said, "Would it be too much trouble, to loosen up, this damn rope? You got me. I'm caught. I know that. Let's leave it out... and cut the bollocks, alright? It's not doin' me shoulders, any favors."

Carter said, "Sorry Rex. House rules. Norm, you wanna show our guest 'is quarters?"

"Certainly, but I'm afraid you're gonna have ta share it, sir. We got a few friends over."

Norman took 'im by his right arm, at first. But Rex screamed in pain, and hurled more insults, so he led 'im from behind, instead. Me and Carter followed, from the back room there, wit boxes o' jars wit spices everywheres, inta tha hawl, and then inta the room to tha right. Beyond that hawl, I could see tha shop counter, and the official grocery store. That room we went in, was nothin' but a space fer mops, and cleaners.

It was a good size though. I don't know if it was enough for an Indian, Rex, and four tied-up an' gagged Mexicans, but it wasn't a cramped closet, I'll say that. When we got in there, the Indian stood, and I'll tell ya, he wasn't scary tall, he wasn't. And 'e wasn't super muscular neither.

But...  but... he was just enough o' both, to be huge.

Norman said, "Rex, Wayne... say hello ta Skin Dancer."

Rex said, "You what?"

The Indian just nodded. We sat Jonas down by the Mexicans, and in front of tha jars o' lye. He fussed a bit, and winced in pain, and the Indian saw this. He walked over to 'im, and those Mexicans leaned far left, ta get away.

Rex said, "Ey, ey... What the 'ell is your problem?"

Without bein' told, the Indian looked at 'is arm, and then 'is back, and then he grabbed 'im. Before Jonas could pull away, Dancer hit his back, hard, and somethin' shifted.

"Fuck!", Jonas said.

He was red as a beet, and he was mutterin' to 'imself, but he moved that shoulder like it was healed. Carter nodded.

"Now I know he ain't learned like you have", he said, "but he's talented. You gotta give 'im that."

Jonas said, "What's all this then, huh? You're obviously still after Roy... Aren't ya?

"You mad bastard. What's the point o' this? Why am I 'ere, I told you what I know."

Carter said, "We'll talk after I eat. I been followin' up wit leads all eve'nin, and I'm not doin' shit, until I've had a bite."

Norm said, "How about some steak? Dancer, you want some steak?"

"That would be good."

"Steak it is. Apologies to you boys, in advance. You'll have to make due wit' beef and noodles, cause feedin' ya's gettin' expensive. But I'll see if I can throw some cheese, or somethin' in there."

We ate in the other room, across from Jonas, and the Mexicans and Dancer, who decided ta eat in there. We talked about how crazy that stunt was, wit Jonas's boys. We talked about tha Chinamen, and tha pipes, and tha missin' drugs. About five minutes inta our meal, another man walked in.

He was a bit shorter than me, but he was built. The kinda guy you'd want in a fight. He had a full beard, that was cleanly cut, and ta look at 'im, he seemed more like a log man, or an outdoors'min, not a grocery store worker. But that's what he was, and from his eyes, I knew he was Mystery.

Norm said, "Oh, Wayne... Before I forget my manners.

"This here is my husband... Mitchell."

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Chapter 13, Part Three

No Honor Ch 13 Pt. 3: The Chase

They heard us before they saw us, and Jonas was wary o' the trouble, but he wasn't done with the wagon just yet. He hopped in it, then stood up with a small trunk, and then another. He dumped the prizes... opium pipes... onta tha ground.

We was less than a hunnerd yards away then, and we was closin' in fast. They did they best ta trample, on all o' those pipes, and then they mounted and took off. Jonas was in front, and his friends was behind 'im, ta either side. So the chase began, and already, I felt foam, wettin' the coat o' my horse.

I slowed 'im down a bit, so as not ta run 'im dead, and about then is when I heard the first shots... Carter and his helpers rode off to tha left, away from the shootin' hand, o' Jonas's gunman. Then he aimed at me, so I hugged the horse. I reckon 'is shot was high, but it missed, in any case.

I took out my Colt, but Carter was faster. He shot the man in the spine and the rider fell back, limp against the animal's rear. Without anyone ta guide 'im, the horse trailed off a ways, with the dead man's hands bein' whipped, by 'is tail. As we rode past, I saw that the horse was buckin 'im off.

Next was more shots, come from the man ta Jonas's right. I turned my stallion, ta run directly behind 'im, and he saw this. He tried to twist 'imself more, to get a better shot. He fired again, and I swear I felt that bullet knick the brim o' my hat... right above my ear. I fired back, in anger, and I hit 'is left shoulder.

He dropped the gun and reached for the wound. Shortly after, he passed out, and he started leanin' left, and then farther left...  If he secured that saddle hisself, he did a poor job; it swung under the mare he was ridin', and it took him with it. What happened to his head, when it met the ground, and those hooves....

It was just terrible. It made me regret shootin 'im, to be honest. Fortunately... if you can call it that, the horse got tripped up, and it fell upright, landing on top of 'im. I can't think of a worse way ta die.

Jonas looked behind 'im, and saw that he was alone. He spurred, and then hugged his horse... archin' 'is back some, just like a jockey. That animal flew... As gone as our horses was, from just catchin' up to 'em awl, I didn't see how we could get 'im.

Carter said, "Cow Hand!", and that mystery man, that one I know somehow, he took off after Jonas. The rest of us slowed down, to a stop, and that cowboy swung 'is rope, round and round, over 'is head.

I said, " What is he playin' at? He's not gonna get Jonas off that horse."

Carter said, "Just watch 'im... He's good."

Mystery said, "C'mon Norm".

Farther they went, and that rope kept swingin' and swingin'. Jonas was huggin' that stallion close, and again, I saw no way fer that cowboy ta rope 'im... Well, that not what he did. Instead, he roped the stallion's front legs.

He musta held on, tight to 'is saddle. When that rope pulled taught, the stallion went down on 'is right flank, and the cowboy and his mare followed suit. Jonas flew off and rolled, then came to a stop. After a beat, none of 'em was movin'.

Mystery said, "Shit... He better be alright".

He took off, towards the scene, and we followed.

The cowboy was lucky. At the last moment, he was pulled clear of his horse. That mare though, had broken a front leg, during tha fall... and we had ta put 'er down. Jonas's stallion was upset, but 'e wasn't injured, and then there was Jonas hisself.

He was movin like a small boat, in rough waters. He'd tilt a bit to tha right, and then back left, and then right again. Then he started pushin' off with 'is feet, like he was tryin' ta get away. The bad news fer him was, that he moved an inch at a time.

His little hat flew off durin' the fall, so you could see 'is hair was def'nitely thinnin' out, and red. His face wasn't so red as that, but he was flushed, with pain and anger. Mostly anger... and he did let those words fly.

"You fucking bloody morons! Are you fucking insane? I'll kill you dead as turkeys!..

"Fuckin 'ell!"

Carter said, "Wayne, this here is Mister, Richard, "Rx" Jonas...

"Good evenin' Rex. Why don't you come and have a late supper with us?"

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Chapter 13, Part Two

No Honor Ch. 13 Pt. 2: Tag

One o' them boys, with the scarf over 'is face... he seemed familiar. Even just from 'is eyes, I could tell I'd seen 'im before. I didn't think he was a bar regular, but I kept lookin' at him, tryin' ta see fer sure, and he kept lookin' away, well on ta me. The other man with Carter was a mystery, and he wasn't half as nervous.

We rode out, about a hunnered and fifty yards or so, away from and northwest o' The Station. The area was muddy, and there was clumps o' trees here an' there, while the rest of 'em was spread out, wit' plenty o' feet between 'em. In one o' the clumps, was Carter's tent he made, from cloth and saplings. I reckoned that was where Carter spent most of his nights, and he confirmed it, but he said he kept movin' it around.

That night, it was across from Marco's home. Behind the gates over there, there really wasn't that much land, and what space there was, was taken up by that buildin'. It was the kind you'd find on a plantation, and at three stories, it seemed too dark and too still. There was lights though, in some o' them windas, and by the well, three horses stood waiting.

They was secured wit' lariats, that was tied ta iron posts in the ground. One of 'em I seen was def'nitely, that reddish brown stallion, o' Jonas's. After lookin' the rest over, I closed up the spyglass telescope, that Carter gave me, and I handed it back to 'im.

"They came and got 'em two hours ago", he said. "Two men I don't know, and one o' Marco's faithful. Ta get 'em so late, and ta have 'em out there without shelter... Well, I reckon they're leavin' soon."

And they were. Two men came out the front doors, and down the steps. They had nice lookin' coats on, and these kinda black hats, I never seen before. The brims on 'em was so short, they'd be nothin' against the rain.

Once they got down by the well, they dug the posts up, and mounted. One o' the pair, grabbed hold o' the reins o' Jonas's horse, and there they stayed, for about five minutes. The front doors opened up again, and lit up in the doorway was Marco. Someone else stepped around 'im, and at that distance, he looked like a twelve year old.

But that was Jonas. It had to be. He was the size of a jockey, and he had on one o' those same, short-brimmed, hard black hats as his friends had. Him and Marco stood there talkin', for a time.

Marco had his arms folded up, and he was noddin'. When Jonas turned ta leave, he went back inside and closed the doors. He didn't wave ta Jonas, and the two did not shake hands. The doc mounted his stallion, and one o' Marco's boys appeared, ta open the iron gates.

They rode, and we quickly mounted our horses, so as not ta lose 'em. Again, we kept our distance, so they didn't see us out there, in the dark. They posted up on 3rd, by the cross trail, and there they waited. An hour passed by, and they were still there.

I looked through Carter's spyglass again. Jonas kept checkin' his pocket watch, and you could see he was frustrated. One o' his friends was dismounted the whole time, and he kept walking up to, and looking up the cross trail.

One o' the mystery men, the one I wasn't familiar with, he said, "What the hell are they doin'?"

Carter said, "Well, they're obviously waitin' for someone", and then he smiled.

Mystery said, "I hope he gets his ass here, quick. I don't like Dancer, watchin' our guests alone, for too long."

"Danca's fine. I doubt those boys could take 'im, even if they wasn't bound."

"Still though..."

"Hold on", Carter said. 

He was lookin' east, and then he got that spyglass out, ta get a better view. I turned and looked myself, and by the moonlight I seen a wagon, wit' a man on one o' the two horses, drivin' it west. After he put up his toy, Carter looked at me.

"It's the Chinamen in there I think", he said. "That rider's probably kin, or one o' their servants."

They was headed fer the cross trail. I reckon the plan was, ta hit 2nd and then go south, ta Henrietta's. Jonas's boy seen 'em comin', and he ran back to 'is horse and got on. Jonas pulled his horse back aways, and the otha two turned their steeds, ta face tha trail.

Mystery said, "They gonna ambush 'em".

Sort of.

The two on them horses got ready, and they braced 'emselves. That asian driver was ridin' past 'em, and as he did, those men jumped their horses, right into the wagon's broadside. Hooves went through wagon cloth, and loud neighing reached our ears.

"Jesus", Mystery said.

Them horses drivin' the wagon, went beserk. I think all o' them horses, was deathly scared. The asian rider was thrown off, and trampled, and that wagon was tiltin', farther towards its side, with all o' that weight on it. Eventually, somethin' snapped, and them horses that were drivin' the wagon, tore free. They bolted, and the wagon fell to the ground.

Jonas's pals, got their horses settled down. They carefully, backed 'em up and off the wagon. Looking at it on its side, even from as far as I was, I could see that blood stained the cloth.

Carter said, "They're dead in there. Alright, let's take 'em now, before they get away. Shoot 'em if you have to, but Cow'and, I want Jonas tied up, unharmed."

That familiar one nodded. Carter looked at me, and waved me on, ta follow. Before I could say anything he turned, spurred Shadow and rode off, closely followed by his two helpers. I brought up the rear. My horse was snorting, and under my legs, I could feel the power of 'is muscles.

I could also feel my heart in my chest. Up to that point, I was just watchin' thangs unfold, like a witness. Now I was a part of it, now I was involved, now I was a player and I realized, ta anyone that mighta seen, I was a gang member. One o' Carter's faithful... and that's no matter what I did.

We rode south, towards Jonas's party... We rode south, and we rode hard.

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Chapter 13, Part One

No Honor: Ch. 13 Pt. 1: The Turn

The tomahawk was wood an' iron. It was about a foot long, and heavy, for its size. Digging it out o' that wood was not fun, and after I'd done it, I realized I had no idea what to do with the thang. I walked back inta tha bar with it, and the reaction it got su'prised me.

People shied away from it. As I passed, some even made the sign o' the cross. It was like I was holdin' The Devil's pitchfork... I wound up puttin' it under tha counter, behind tha shotgun.

The next day, I arranged for Gordon, the Carpenter on 3rd, ta build us a new outhouse shelter. The whole thing was an embarrassment, for Marco's camp. He didn't come back to tha bar that night, and I reckoned he wanted to dodge questions about it, so he'd probably stay away for a time. I noted also, that we had less people show up that night, in general.

As amusin' as Manny's story was, it was a tell on what was comin', and what was comin' was trouble. The original boss and founder o' this town, Tom Black, he said somethin', way back when. He said, "This place is like a station. The smart ones, they come an' lay low, 'til the heat's off 'em, and then they hitch a ride ta someplace else... Only the idiots stay around fer good."

Black died here, fifteen years back.

During the shift, Wally started havin' stomach problems again. I was afraid he'd have ta leave, but luckily, he stuck it out. Good news, 'cause I didn't feel much like stayin' past my time. While walking up 4th though, I saw somethin' that made me think about turnin' round, and goin' back ta tha bar.

There was a man on horseback, up the street some. He was dressed in dark clothin', and under 'is cowboy hat, he had some kind of scarf, covering the lower half of 'is face. Set there like he was, in the middle of the path, it'd be tough to make your way around him by horse, and even by foot, if he wanted ta stop ya. Every instinct I had, told me to avoid 'im.

There is a cross trail, that splits each o' tha four streets, down the center. I knew I could turn up this trail and head on ta 2nd, without gettin' close to the man, so that's what I did. I took... maybe three steps up that way, and then I got cut off. It was another man on horseback, in dark clothin', with a scarf over 'is face.

I stepped back a ways, and by instinct, my hand raised up, ta my Colt.

"Easy Wayne. He's with me."

It was Carter. He was ridin' up towards me, and leadin' this soil-brown stallion, alongside Shadow.

"I want you ta come ride wit' us", he said. "Somethin's goin' on tonight, and I want ya ta see it."

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Chapter 12, Part Two

No Honor Ch 12 Pt. 2: The Outhouse Incident

Anyone that lives in a small town'll tell ya, that news an' rumors spread faster than light. There's reasons fer this. Ya see, in a small town, there's less people for word ta spread to... That's one thing. The other is, small towns get less news, which means that, what news it gets, is looked at an' talked about, forever.

No secret is safe in The Station. No closet stays shut tight, forever. Those skeletons will see the light o' day, and around here, they studied and mused over, piece by piece. Even when the dirt's in a language ya don't understand, someone's gonna hear it, and translate it, so you don't have to.

Manny's anguish, and moment o' fame, made its way by mouth to all o' Marco's guys, by night's end. By mornin,' it had passed on ta Ernest tha Tailor, who had helped mend the slacks, o' one o' tha original witnesses. Ernest then translated that story, to another witness, and it spread like wildfire from there. The following account, comes from a guy, who spoke to a guy, that spoke to a man that talked ta Ernest...

Emanuel Guerra, entered the outhouse behind the bar, around ten after eight. With 'im, he had tha latest issue o' 'Harper's New Monthly Magazine'. See Manny was smart, and though he couldn't speak it, he could get the gist o' English words, whether read or spoke aloud.

There was no lamp, or candle in the outhouse, but that was okay. He could make due with the light comin from tha bar, and a nearby residence. So he read, and his bowels wasn't movin', so he lost track o' time. He reckons that after twenty minutes or so, there was a knock on the door.

That seemed odd. There was a slide lock, keepin' the door secure, so why knock? If the door's locked, it's obvious someone's inside. Still, there was another knock.

Manny said, "Hey, I'm in here!", but he said it in Spanish, so he wasn't sure if he was understood. Another knock, and he thought about what to do. He settled on sayin', "En use", a few times... The knockin' stopped after that, so he figured it worked.

So, his bowels start movin'. Though his eyes is closed, at the start o' that business, he felt a shadow creep over 'is face. He started a bit,  in 'is seat, but he couldn't really move, he wasn't done yet. The door was still closed, ta his relief, but whatever was in front of it, was blocking all the light from outside, even from the moon. 

Back came the knock again, and then a heavy poundin'. Manny screamed ta be left alone. Screamed for his friends to quit playin' around. It had ta be one o' those vatos, it had ta be.

The shadow melted back, and then it moved on. Manny cursed after it. He was angry, and by all rights, he shoulda been...

He heard the shadow's feet walkin' off, to his right. They retreated... and then they stopped, and then they came closer, and then he didn't hear 'em at all. Manny's gun was in the gun belt holster, by his feet. He reached for it, and then a wide, black blade, chopped right in through the wall.

It looked sorta like a small axe blade. It pulled out, and then it was hacking, loudly hacking away, at the wooden stall. Manny screamed. He reached for that gun, but then his stomach seized up, and his bowels got ta movin' again.

That business demanded his full attention, but that blade kept hackin' and hackin' away. There was splinters flying, inta his lap. He reached for the gun again, and he did pull it out, but then the hacking stopped.

He yelled a warning in Spanish. Whoever was messing with him, friend or foe, was gonna get shot. He wanted that crap to continue, he said. He wanted ta kill someone.

There was a pause, and except for the laughs, and tha talkin' from tha bar he heard, the night was quiet around 'im. It stayed like that, for a good five minutes, and then Manny heard metal, scrapin' on wood. That blade, was movin' up the space between tha stall door, and tha frame. It hit the slide lock... and then it started movin' it.

Manny fired, three times inta the door. Then he heard feet movin', so he fired twice to his left. It was really quiet afterwards, and he didn't think he hit anyone. Scared pretty good by this point, Manny decided to leave the outhouse. His business wasn't done, he knew that, but he figured he'd squat outside somewheres, where he could see.

He put his pants on, with that pistol still in his gun hand. He reached down, to get his gun belt, and that same, wide black blade, chopped right through the door in front of 'is face. Thinkin' on it later, he figures that musta been the time, when he messed his pants... And then he slipped.

You kin figure out the rest. That stall Wally showed me was ruined. It was chopped up, shot up, and the door was halfway off tha hinge. Embedded in the center of tha door, was a tomahawk, to no one's surprise.

By the time that story, reached our ears the next day, eight more o' Marco's soldiers left town... Manny included.

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Chapter 12, Part One

No Honor  Ch. 12 Pt. 1: Defense

That night, Marco came back ta the bar, and this time, he had ten of 'is friends wit' him, plus Rita an' tha otha girl. It looked like a show o' strength, but maybe it was somethin' else. Along with tha jokes o' scalpin', and Indians lurkin' in tha shadows, the other big talk was that Marco had called off the nightly patrols. It was a big win for Carter Moon, but what else was Marco doin'? Was he partnered up to protect hisself, or his partners?

The party moved towards the rear, as always, and the back tables was vacated quick. I don't think anyone, was willin' ta test Marco's patience at that time, with everythang that was goin' on. I reckon though, that I was too curious and too damn defiant, ta let 'im get away without speakin' on current events. Gettin him ta talk, wasn't easy though.

He had walked past the bar without a word, and Rita ordered, an' brought over the drinks, herself. I stood there, watchin' em set next to each other, an' talkin. But it was more like she was doin' the talkin', and he was noddin' his head in agreement. I started ta wonder, about exactly what was goin' on there.

Finally, the man had ta relieve 'imself, so he stepped outside. He went alone, too. No amigos, no girls, no bodyguards, and no gun on 'im at all. That said somethin'.

When he came back in, he was stopped and chatted up by a few. He was smiles and laughs fer all, just like regular. Then he patted their shoulders and said his goodbyes. He was makin' his way back, when I called 'im over.

I said, "I hope you got a line on what's goin' on out there, cause a lot o' my friends is frightened... y'know? The more I hear about Indians, an' you boys goin' missin', the more I start ta thank, this is gonna hurt business, you know what I'm sayin'?"

He had a smirk on 'is face but he nodded, and then he said, "Et's bullshit games man... That's all et es.

"We got one, stubborn, freak, puto... An e's out dere, wit a few friends, and dey playin' a joke, right? A few o' my guys got sloppy, an dey probably tars an' feathers somewhere, but et's good though, you know?

"We got drunks, we got cowards... Like any group... deres weak. Deres dose dat, don't deserve ta be where dey at. So, e's doin' me a favor... 'E is. An' I'll say dis... one hunnerd strong, es coming, from Mexico... Alright? One hunnerd men.

"De bullshit will stop, de man will be killed, es friends will be killed, an all will be right, don't you worry about it. We got it en 'and."

With that, back he went. It sounded like there was a clock runnin', on tha whole ordeal, and it was tickin' on down to explosion. I had ta seriously consider leavin'... Maybe headin' down ta Texas would be wise.

I poured myself a bit o' Bourbon, and thought on it. Quickly though, it got busy again, and that line o' thinkin' was lost. The next few hours went by quick. At a quarter ta nine, we heard four or five gunshots.

That isn't uncommon in this town, at all. A few folks by the door, they put they hands on they guns, and peered outside. Nothin' else happened though, an' no more shots came, so we all just ignored it. Then, one o' Marco's boys came in from out there.

The look on 'is face was... strained. His cheeks was wet wit' tears, and he was walkin' in tiny, small little steps. At the front of the place, people turned and looked, and then they reeled back from 'im. I didn't know why, 'til he made his way closer.

The smell, was... horrible... horrible... I don't know where he had been, or what he ate ta make that stench, but I pulled my shirt over my face, ta shield myself from it. He kept takin' those little, tiny steps, and the barflys was all coverin' up, like I was.

I wanted ta ask him ta leave, but I didn't wanna open my mouth, ta do so. Dave covered his mouth and nose, with both hands. Wally bailed for outside, and that man just kept on steppin', an inch at a time. As he made his way back, and across from the bar, I looked down and seen two, big brown stains, on the back of 'is pants.

That was about all I needed. I bunched up my shirt around my face, to block as much air as possible, and then I called out...

"Marco!... Marco!"

I pointed at the guy... and pointed and pointed and pointed... And then I covered up again. Marco got within a foot of 'im, but then he wanted to go back. As soon as he saw his boss, though, the man was talkin' that Spanish so loud, and so fast, it alerted the few folks that wasn't watchin 'im already.

Marco covered his face, and then he said, "Manny... Manny, you need to go back outside!"

That drew an explosion o' high pitched, rapid-fire Spanish from 'im. The syllables was runnin' so close together, I don't even think Marco knew what he was sayin'. Eventually, Marco just screamed over 'im.

"Manny enough! Enough!... Do not argue right now. We will help you, we will get him. Just go, the fuck, outside...now! Right now!

"... We're behind you, we're behind you, just go!"

So this Manny turned, and Marco did follow, but far behind. He motioned, and six of his boys went out with him, while the rest stayed with the girls. After they was out, laughter broke out in the bar. People was bustin' they sides, and cryin', an' I couldn't help laughin' as well.

While talk of the event was still new, and fresh in the air, Walter came back inside.

"Boss", he said. "You better come out and take a look at this."

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Chapter 11, Part Two

No Honor; Ch. 11 Pt. 2: Face of Death

I don't get what it is, that makes us wake up different. Sometimes it's a trip, from stream ta sea, and otha times, it's a flat trail ta gravel road. Again, my head ached and again, there was that feelin' o' clouds behind my eyes. It was in that state, and at seven in the mornin', that I saw a sight uncommon ta most.

His collar was black, an' raised up, to 'is face. His hat was black, an' pulled low, over 'is fore'ed. His eyes was dull,  and gray, and empty... And around those eyes, was the pale white flesh, of a long dead corpse.

He said I screamed... I don't remember that. He said my hands shook, and that I reached for my Colt, on the nightstand. He said he stopped my hands with his own, and that he held me down for a minute, or more. I don't recawl any of it, but I do remember his voice.

"Wayne! Wayne, it's me, relax. Relax! It's Carter... Wayne, it's Carter Moon."

I didn't curse at 'im. I didn't threaten 'im. I didn't even say a word, but I didn't have to. It all came through, from me ta him, without any effort at all.

"Wayne, I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean ta catch ya like this, but the truth is, I was just wakin' up maself... not minutes earlier...  I didn't know what I was doin'."

"You sleep sittin' up?"

"Well, when you have to do somethin', you learn it... And that's a lesson from way back."

"Fuck... Don't you eva do that again!"

We laughed.

"I won't, I wont", he said, "You alright?"

"If I was gonna have a heart attack, it woulda happened already. How long were you there?"

He glanced at his pocket watch.

"About four hours. Sorry about takin' so long, but I didn't want ta risk anyone seein' us."

"Okay... So you saw that candle then."

"I did. You got news for me?"

"Yeah. Let's go downstairs first."

I went in my cabinet, ta get some water. My containers was almost empty, and I'm sure that was due to my guest. I'd set some out ta catch the rain, and I'd go to the well later, if need be. There was pots on the hooks already, above the open fire range, in my kitchen; so I filled one, and got a flame goin', ta get some hot water for my face towel.

I got another towel for Carter, and we set ourselves down in my living room, ta talk.

I said, "Jonas is in town, as of Saturday night."

"Is that right?"

"Yessir. I don't know where he's held up at.. it's def'nitely not the hotel, but... He's ridin' a reddish brown stallion, with a black mane. If that horse is still at the stable, he should still be around."

"Excellent. Wayne, that's excellent. Now I know he's here, I'll find 'em".

"Alright, well I got more for ya..."

I tol' him that story, about the hotel meetin'. He listened, with great int'rest. After I was done, he took a minute, ta think about it.

He said, "Well, this Rita... she already knew about the Morphine bein' no good. There's no way she couldn't 'ave. I reckon Marco sent her ta the Chinamen, to haggle 'em a bit, and get 'em a better deal. But they was makin' that deal. They want an opium den here, bad."

"Is that of any use to you?"

"Hell yes... Definitely... Ya see I've learned a great many thangs, while doin' this job. One is: when you have an enemy, you should learn all you can about 'em. Their strengths, their weaknesses, their goals... What they want, is sometimes the most important."

"Good. I hope it helps... The sooner this is over with, the better."

Carter nodded. "Well, I wouldn't bet on it lastin' too much longer. As I see thangs, this'll be comin' to a head, before you know it."

I said, "Yeah? You reckon so?"

"I do."

"Alright then, tell me somethin'... Marco's been losin' people lately. Some 'ave been snatched up, mysteriously."

"Well, I might have a little somethin' to do with that."

A little smile.

"I bet. There's also a bunch of 'em leavin'... They think you're The Reaper. They think you're ridin' round, wit' a pack o' wild Indians."

Carter laughed. "Is that right? Heh heh heh heh...

"Well... if I am their 'Reaper', I've been appointed that, by fate or design. As to that... 'pack o' wild Indians'..."

He shrugged.

"That may, or may not be true."

"You ain't gonna tell me which it is?"

He got up.

"You'll see. We'll probably need yer help, pretty soon."

"My help? I don't know about that, Carter."

"Well, wait 'til I put it to you first. But that's for later... I'll be in touch sir, thanks again."

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Chapter 11, Part One

No Honor; Ch. 11 Pt. 1: Restless Natives

The bad that comes from "no more opium"?

At the time, I didn't have the slightest clue as to what he meant, but I kept listenin', an' I did learn more. Eventually, the three of 'em agreed on sixty-five for the Asians, and thirty-five for Marco's pockets. It would stay like that for a year, and then they'd take another look at it. The Asians called the woman "Ree Tah", and she assured them that yes, that was the deal, and no, Marco was def'nitely, not changin' it. The fact that she was handling the man's business was intrestin', in itself.

In fact, I reckon the whole thang was a major deal. I decided that I needed to get word o' this to Carter, and as soon as possible. I had to figure out a way o' gettin' his attention, somehow. But I'd have ta settle on somethin' after work; I didn't want ta lose too much money, and I was already runnin' late.

I opened up shop about an hour later than normal, and the first patrons came in, thirty seconds later. I reckon that, though I wasn't sellin' opium, or morphine, or sex... directly, anyway... I was still doin' okay. Come to think of it, there was an opium den here, years ago, but it burned down, shortly before Marco took over. After that, I did see an increase in business, so I wondered what a return to tha past might mean.

Dave and Wally walked in about seven, and I was grateful, cause it was gettin' busy. After we got drinks, inta the hands o' those that wanted 'em, I leaned over an' got Wally's ear.

"I been hearin' a lot o' talk, an' jokin' about Indians tonight... You know what's goin' on?"

He nodded, and by his face, he wasn't too pleased with the whole affair.

"Buncha Marco's boys is missin'. About six total, over the past couple nights."

"So now they think it's Indians? Last I heard, it was Carter gettin' the blame."

Jim Sheldon was sittin' close by, with Geoffrey. He musta overheard, and he decided ta speak up.

"It's both of 'em," he said, "I'd put money on it. I'm sure he's the one put 'em up to it, in the first place."

"Hold on", I said. "That's crazy paranoia... How you figure it's Indians doin' it? That could be anybody out there."

They all were sayin', "No, no...", and,  "It's Indians, Wayne", and then Geoff said, "They scalped 'em."

"What?"

Jim said, "Besides the ones missing, two were found dead. One of 'em was shot, and the other was stabbed,  and scalped... probably with a tomahawk."

Walt said, "The fuckin' freak is ridin' round wit' Indians... You believe that shit?

"The man's got no honor, no loyalty at all."

I said, "What do you mean? It's Marco's boys gettin' scalped, not us."

Geoff said, "Cause we ain't in the way", and then he laughed.

Jim said, "No, you're right. You're right... They're bound on getting revenge, and they're ready ta tear this town apart to do it... All Moon has to do is show 'em who, and how ta hit, and that's it. They're dead."

"Makes me sick ta my stomach", Walt said. "He probably think he's one of 'em, himself... I mean, shit, he already takin' money, an' orders from 'em. So why not join the tribe? Why dress and ride like a white man?"

Jim said, "Well, he's the whitest man I ever saw. There's no denying that."

Him and Geoff got ta laughin', but Walter was not amused.

Another story goin' round the bar that night, was about how it woulda been ten missin', except some Mexicans were seen skippin' town, early that mornin'. Apparently, one o' Sheldon's servants was up, and at his home, when he spotted three of 'em in a wagon, with one drivin' the horse south, probably ta Mexico. I talked ta Jim, and he confirmed it. So that was twelve of 'em, a dozen o' Marco's camp, that he lost over three night's time.

I was sure there'd be more. Behind the jokes and the laughter, an' even the anger, the people o' this town were scared. Really scared... So, if that was true, it was doubly true for the Mexicans. As I said, they were the targets, at that time, anyway; no one knew who'd be next ta get scalped.

It could be a white man, if he got in the way. It could be that Marco was on the choppin' block, hisself. Either way, all of this talk about Indians was not good for 'im. Remember, he had the whole town payin' him, for the sole purpose, o' protectin' em from them Indians and everythang else... and you can't do that if ya soldiers is turnin' tail.

After I got off, I walked the few steps, to my front porch. There was no Shadow, and therefore, no Carter around, but I wasn't su'prised. I thought about it, then I went inside for a candle. I came back out, wit' it lit, an' I set it on tha railing. Then, I sat myself on the bench there, ta read.

I was hopin' he was still lookin' fer candles, and I hoped that it's place on the rail wasn't offensive enough, to get me beat ta death. Marco's boys were still out an' about that night, but they was travelin' in pairs, and sometimes in threes. One pair in particular trotted by, on their steeds. The one closest to the house looked at me, and then at my candle, and then back at me again.

I smiled, and tipped my hat to 'im. For a second, he looked off in the distance, and I could see the wheels in his head, turnin'. But then he looked back an' nodded at me, and he and his amigo rode on. After a few more hours, I got tired, and without thinkin', I blew out the candle and went in ta sleep.

I didn't find this out 'til later, but that Mexican that nodded at me,  he went missin' that very same night. His buddy woke up sometime the next mornin', wit' a bloody nose and a bump on his head. Their horses was never found. On the plus side, no one got scalped that night, and the town, though edgy, was a little more at ease.

--------------------

Chapter 10, Part Three

No Honor Ch. 10 Pt. 3: The Meeting

It took awhile, but I finally got a hold o' myself. I stopped pacin' an' stood there, wipin' my face and breathin' deep. After a few more minutes, I went back inside. I dropped a handful o' coin, I have no idea how much, and I asked the kid at the desk for food, and a favor.

I wanted him to walk to Dave's, and ta tell 'im I wouldn't be in ta work. Apparently, whatever I gave him was enough. He agreed, so I went back to my room.

I settled down as best I could. I realize now that it had been some time, since I'd been so close, ta somethin' so terrible. If I left the hotel at that point, I wasn't comin' back, I knew that... I had to accept the situation, and tha danger, or just leave town.

I got a bit farther inta that Musketeers, but it just wasn't holdin' my attention. I spent some time then, thinkin' on Carter, and that whole business. He got blamed fer them Mexicans vanishin', but when I looked at it, it just didn't make any sense. If they were all dead, yeah, I could see 'im bein' involved, but missin?

Don't nobody disappear fer real; everybody goes somewhere. So those boys were nabbed, simple as that. And wit' that hip o' his, his ribs, an' that wonky shoulder... Moon wasn't wrasslin' wit anybody. Somethin' else was goin' on.

As to Larson's whereabouts, I had no damn clue. I couldn't even find this Rex, or Richard, or whatever it is he's called. I didn't think either of 'em, was in that hotel with me. That'd be too obvious, and too many people woulda seen 'em.

Still, I had the time ta spare, and I figured it'd help my nerves, ta get movin. Breakfast came then, about an hour and forty-five minutes after I asked for it, and it came luke warm, as expected. After I was through with it, I decided to roam the halls for awhile, seein' what I could see. Nothin' really came o' that, and the rest o' the day passed, without incident.

The next day, right as I was leavin' for work, I saw somethin' that stopped me. A wagon pulled up, an' parked outside the lobby where I was. There was this old man inside, with a shiny getup. They was long, flowin' blue robes, wit' some kinda orange, or yella an' orange belt.

That's the first thing I saw. The next thing I noticed, was that the man's head was huge. His forehead I mean... It looked like that anyways, and then I realized the front part of 'is head was shaved, while the back part was twisted up, inta this long, gray ponytail.

This guy, well cawl 'im The Elder... was from Asia, by the look of 'im. He stepped out the wagon an' another, young Asian guy... Junior, stepped around to meet 'im from the otha side. Junior was dressed in this nice, dark suit, and his hair was cut normal, unlike 'is paw. Though they looked different, they both looked like they were made o' money, and that's conspicuous as hell.

To top it off though, as soon as they stepped in, they were greeted by Marco's Mexican girlfriend, the super-skinny one. I didn't even notice her before. They came up to the desk to make arrangements, and I walked outside to look unconcerned. As soon as they went upstairs though, I followed 'em up.

As they entered their suite, on the second floor, I was pretendin' like my key didn't work. Then I got they room number and ran back downstairs. I asked the boy if the rooms to either sides were open now.

He said, "Two-twelve is, as of today. But it isn't by any windows".

"That's alright", I said. "I'd like to move to it, right now, and I'd like the key, sos I kin get started."

I plopped some more money down and he gave it to me. Then I went back up, fast. You ever tried ta run silent? I don't know how well I did, but I was in that room, and listenin', as soon as possible. When I got there, Junior was speakin'.  

"Uncle and I are sorry... for concern. Please know... our custom... role for woman...different... in homeland."

The lady said, "I'm not here to talk about your customs. If you wanna set up here, you better lay out a deal right now."

What I noticed right off, was that now that I was listenin' to her, she had no accent whatsoever. She could give Marco English lessons. Elder an' Junior were speakin'... Asianese or somethin, and then Junior started off again.

"We pay for building, for water. With that... sixty-forty... not good. We would see seventy".

"Then enjoy your trip back home", said the woman. "Why should we let you do anything, if we don't get what we want?"

More Asianese, and then Junior said, "It good for you... long-term. More come to Station for us... stay longer... pay for more."

"You can't guarantee that. We do just fine with that powder, and we don't get any complaints."

Elder said, "High... is shit!"

Junior said, "Shi, shi... Morphine by mouth not for high. It for pain."

The woman laughed. "What? That doesn't make any sense! Look... We've got men coming in from all over, some of them are wanted yes, but many are just laying low after a job. When they get here, the first thing they want is that 'Precious Powder'... Not alcohol, not sex. If they're not getting high, then why in the world do they want it?"

There was a pause. Junior asked somethin' in that language and Elder took awhile responding. Junior kept sayin' "She.. She..." or somethin' like that, over and over again. Finally, he said it in English.

"Powder high is shit. Most will find... no good. Morphine by mouth, it for pain, and... tooo... escape... the bad...

"The bad that come from... no more opium."

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