This is a sequel of sorts to my art exchange gift for MetalRavioli! I realized I had a lot of fun writing for Aces and Eights and wanted to give it another go.
« Providence || Save My Soul ||
Skit was scared.
'I shouldn't be scared,' he thought to himself as he looked out at the scenery before him. And yet, he was.
He shivered as the snow collected on him. He would brush it off him, but the softness of it helped him meditate.
The icy mountain wind pushed against him, trying to shove him over the cliffside. Yet he stayed firm, looking up at the sky, wondering if Robby was looking back down at him. He heard the distinct sound of a Way opening behind him.
"Skit?"
Iris stepped out of the Way that connected Skit's little mountain escape to the Detective Agency and stood behind him.
"Skit? Can you hear me?"
Skit turned his gaze down from the heavens to the icy peaks that surrounded his own. After a small pause, he responded.
"Yeah."
"They want you in their office. Both of us."
Skit sighed and looked down at the ground he sat on, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"Now, Skit. They want us there now."
Skit nodded and got up, shaking the snow that had gathered on his shoulders. He took one last look at the Himalayas before following Iris through the Way.
"We didn't know."
Amos Marshall stared down his heir. He sat behind his desk, strapped to a metal chair which in turn was strapped to a large steam machine in the back of the room. The machine, in turn, pumped a strange liquid into Amos. It wasn't a powerful liquid - not nearly as strong as the spring that he used to have - but it kept him alive.
"Did you not take the time to prepare?"
To his right, sat in the centre of the desk, was Percy Dark. His normally slicked-back black hair was unruly and uncombed, sticking up in all the worst of places. He had taken off his chequered gray-and-blue suit jacket and draped over his chair as he leaned toward the two people standing in front of the desk. His heir responded,
"We thought it was gonna be a simple job. In and out."
"But it wasn't. It wasn't, and my Robby is dead because of it."
On the opposite end of the desk sat Ruprecht Carter. He was completely dishevelled, his shoulder-length hair uncombed, and his wrinkled suit haphazardly put on. There was an anger in his voice, as though he was on the verge of snapping at Iris and Skit. Given the situation, Amos didn't blame him.
"How were we supposed to know that a gun wouldn't be enough to bring him down?" asked Skit.
At this, Amos began laughing. Hysterically. The laughing quickly turned into a coughing fit, spraying blood over the countertop. Percy sighed and grabbed a handkerchief, wiping the blood off the wood. He handed Amos a cup of water before turning back to Skit.
"You seriously believed bullets would be enough to take down a walking corpse? Our men in the Consortium told us that Elias died as a result of a… magical bird. If he could survive that, what makes you think he wouldn't survive bullets?"
"I…," Iris started, before stopping. She slumped over, looking defeated.
Ruprecht began to get up, leaning over the desk to get closer to Iris and Skit. He was just about to open his mouth when Percy, who had also gotten up, put his hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down to his seat.
"It doesn't matter. We've already sent some of our Detectives to deal with Elias. Perhaps they'll do a better job of disposing of him than you two have. Dismissed."
"Too harsh? We were too soft on them, if you ask me."
Ruprecht took a big swig of his flask, gulping down the alcohol like water. It was already dark out, but the three men were still in the office. Ruprecht had sat against the wall underneath the window, trying to drown his sorrows.
"It's… not like they intended… to get Robert killed… It was an accident… A stupid accident, but… an accident nonetheless."
Amos struggled to speak, squeezing his words in between each shaky breath. Percy passed him another cup of water, hoping a wet throat would help Amos speak more clearly.
"I understand your grief, Ruprecht, but you're acting as though we are doing nothing about this. I've already sent two Detectives after Elias, with more on call if need be. I can assure you, Robert will be avenged."
Ruprecht shook his head, taking another swig of his drink.
"Who did you even send?"
Percy sighed, reaching down and grabbing a box from underneath the desk. He opened it and pulled out a glass jar, within which was a still-beating heart.
"The Natives, Jigsaw and Iron Wings. They've dealt with worse before. I'm more than certain they can dispose of Elias."
Amos finished his cup of water and cleared his throat, preparing himself to speak.
"You mentioned a… magical bird… Where is it now…?"
Percy nodded and opened a drawer on the desk, looking through the papers stored within before pulling out a Consortium warrant.
"It's a vulture, owned by that Fuller man. Last the Consortium knows, a man named Gary Pebbler released it into the Chihuahua Desert. I've already sent some men to keep an eye on it."
"What do you plan… on doing with it?"
Percy turned to Amos and simply smiled.
Elias stuffed the bag full of all the food he could find. At this point, it was starting to come apart at the seams, but he wasn't sure how much food he would need for the journey. Or if he even needed food, for that matter.
He tied up the bag and slung it over his shoulder, holding it in place with a hand from his coat. He grabbed his revolver from the counter, stepped over the body of Detective Robert Marshall, and made his way towards the exit. Just as he was about to open the door, he heard someone clear their throat behind him.
"H-Hey! Where you think you're going?"
Elias sighed and turned around, seeing Cole behind the counter. From here, Elias could see that he was completely drenched in sweat, nervously shaking in his boots.
"Mexico, Cole. Gonna find that bird who put me in the ground and do the same to it."
"A-and what about MCD?"
"What about 'em? Doubt they'll follow me out of the country."
"I mean, you did shoot the grandson of one of their owners. Seems like something they'd follow you down to Mexico for. I know I would."
Elias laughed. "You wouldn't chase down a man if he killed your whole darn family, Cole. Just get to the point here."
"MCD isn't gonna leave you alone after this. They're gonna hunt you down, shoot you, and go out of their way to make sure you stay down. If I were you, I'd make sure they wouldn't be able to do that."
Elias put his bag down and sat on it, hearing some of the food get squished under his weight.
"Fine, I'll go into hiding after I kill the bird. Keep 'em off my trail and lay low. Can't be too hard."
"B-but MCD has informants everywhere. With how many associates those three have, I doubt even you could keep out of their sight for long."
"The Consortium then. Get 'em to protect me. Simple as that."
Cole shook his head. "Al Fine is friends with Carter. I'm surprised you didn't know that, Elias. Wouldn't be long before she or someone else turned you in for a ransom."
Elias sighed and threw his hands up in the air. "Fine, what do you recommend I do then, Cole?"
"Go after them. They're pretty public with where they stay at, that town up in Nevada. Deal with them and don't worry about them anymore."
Elias shook his head and inspected his revolver. Gunpowder still caked the barrel from where he had shot Robby only a few hours ago.
"Fine."
"What?"
"I'll go after them. Where is it they stay, Goldfield or something like that? Ain't that long of a ride from here. Kill three old men, then head back down to kill a bird the size of a horse. Shouldn't be too much trouble."
Cole smiled and clapped his hands, turning to run into his backroom. "Great! I'll go and pack my things!"
A confused look emerged on Elias' face as he got up, walking back up to the counter.
"Wow, wow. Slow your horses there, Thereven. I never said you were coming with me."
Cole shouted back at Elias over the sounds of him rummaging through his stuff. For all Elias knew, Cole probably had a hoard of useless little trinkets back there.
"Figured you might want someone to keep you company on the ride there. Someone to look out for your back, too!"
"You don't even know how to use a gun, Cole! All you're gonna do is slow me down out there. Get yourself killed."
"My dad was a lawman too! Really good aim too, according to my mama. He must've passed some of that down to me when I was born."
Cole peered his head out of the doorframe, looking straight at Elias.
"I was here when you killed him, anyway. Chances are, they'll come for me, too. It's safer for me to stay with you than fend for myself here."
Elias opened his mouth to retort, but closed it before he could say anything. He let out a deep breath and looked down at the scratched wood of the counter. Some blood had dried on it, although he couldn't tell if it was from last night or another altercation.
"Fine. I'll meet you outside."
The desert sun beat down hard on Cole Thereven. It had been ages since he had left the town of Socorro, having become used to the shade his post office offered. Hell, he couldn't even remember the last time he had left the post office for anything besides heading to the general store.
"Are you sure we're heading the right way, Cole? We've been out here for a whole day, and I haven't even seen another town."
Cole adjusted his hat and squinted at the horizon, where the heat shimmered off the cracked clay like a mirage.
"Trust me, Elias," he said, tapping a folded map against his thigh. "Road forks west in a mile or two. Once we hit the rail, we'll be halfway there."
Elias grunted, eyes fixed ahead. The horse beneath him, an old Appaloosa with a lazy gait, seemed as tired as he was. The desert had that effect.
"Funny," Elias muttered. "Didn't take you for the leading type."
Cole gave a weak smile. "Didn't take you for the type to follow."
They rode on in silence for a while, the sound of falling hooves filling the void. The dunes rolled endlessly, unbothered. The only sign of life came from a distant buzzard circling overhead.
Elias' eyes followed it, narrowing. "You see that?"
Cole shaded his brow. "What, the bird?"
"Same one's been tailin' us since dawn."
Cole laughed nervously. "Maybe it smells the dead on you."
Elias didn't laugh. "…Maybe."
They camped near a cluster of rocks that evening. The fire crackled, throwing long shadows over the desert floor. Elias sat cross-legged, cleaning his revolver. Cole fidgeted with a tin of beans, stealing glances at him.
"You ever think about… what comes after?" Cole asked.
"After what?"
"After all this. When MCD's gone. When that bird's dead."
Elias clicked the cylinder shut and stared into the fire. The orange light caught in his eyes, hollow and sunken.
"I don't think that far," he said flatly.
Cole nodded, stirring the beans. "I think about it all the time. When we make it to Goldfield, if we—"
He stopped when he saw Elias' head tilt.
Cole stiffened up. The desert was quiet. Then came a distant clink — metal striking stone. Then another. And another.
Elias stood, gun drawn. "We've got company."
From beyond the firelight, a figure stepped forward. Tall, draped in a patchwork of leather and iron, his face hidden behind a mask of crooked metal. The firelight dances across the mask, flashing red.
"Evenin', Marshal," came a rasping voice. "Heard tell you been lookin' for trouble."
Elias raised his revolver, eying the badge on the man's clothes. "Your employers started it."
The man's laugh was dry and low. "They always do."
The stranger tilted his head, and the sound of metal scraping bone followed. His left arm detached at the elbow with a click and fell limp on the sand. Then it twitched, crawling upright on its own, metal fingers digging into the sand.
Elias frowned. "You must be Jigsaw."
"That's what they call me," the man rasped, voice echoing through his mask. "Mister Marshall sent me to collect."
Cole took a half-step back. "Elias, what the hell's wrong with him?"
Before Elias could answer, Jigsaw's arm shot forward, the hand latching onto Elias' ankle with a vice grip. The rest of the body lunged right after it, unnaturally fast for something half-human.
Elias fired twice. The first shot grazed Jigsaw's shoulder. The second punched through the mask, sparks flying. Jigsaw stumbled back, laughing as he straightened up.
"Guns can't kill curiosities, Marshal," he hissed. "We're built for the kind of work that stays done."
A sound like chains being dragged across the rocks interrupted him. Cole turned toward the noise and froze.
Into the firelight, another figure emerged. Tall, cloaked, her back arched under the weight of massive iron wings. She was in a fetal position in the air, her wings acting like stilts. Each feather ended in a cruel, spiked chain, dragging furrows in the sand behind her. The wings shifted and flexed on their own, like they were breathing.
"Iron Wings," Jigsaw said, his grin audible through the mask. "Good of you to join us."
She didn't answer. Her head hung low, eyes averted.
"Don't," she murmured. The wings twitched in defiance, their chains snapping taut.
Elias raised his gun again. "That your partner?"
"Curiosity, like me," Jigsaw said. "Though she ain't half as fun."
The wings moved first.
They shrieked like train brakes and tore through the campfire, scattering sparks across the sand. Elias threw himself backward as one of the chains whipped past his face close enough for him to feel the heat off the metal. Cole hit the dirt beside the firepit, covering his head while embers rained over him.
"Stop it!" Iron Wings shouted. Her voice cracked with panic. "Stop, damn you!"
Jigsaw laughed through the holes in his mask. His chest split open with a wet tearing sound, and something inside him dropped into the sand. Then another. Slick organs dragged themselves forward on twitching cords of flesh, clawing toward Elias like starving animals.
"See?" Jigsaw rasped. "Ain't gotta lift a finger."
One of the organs lunged for Elias' leg. He stomped it flat beneath his boot and drove his knife into another. Black blood splashed across the sand.
Behind him, Cole finally got his rifle free from the saddlebag. His hands shook so bad he nearly dropped it. "Elias!"
A chain came screaming toward Elias' back. Cole fired on instinct.
The shot went wide, but it struck the chain hard enough to knock it aside. The metal spike slammed into the rocks instead of Elias' spine, throwing sparks everywhere.
Elias glanced back at him with brief surprise. "Huh," he muttered. "Maybe your mama weren't a liar."
Jigsaw came barreling forward before either of them could say anything more. Elias caught the man by the wrist and shoved him sideways into the fire. Burning logs burst apart beneath the two. Jigsaw's detached arm skittered through the sand and grabbed Elias around the ankle again, fingers tightening hard enough to dent leather.
Elias cursed and slammed the butt of his revolver down on the thing twice. The second strike crushed its fingers apart.
Jigsaw rose from the fire laughing, his coat burning. "You really don't know what kinda world you wandered into, Marsh—"
With a shriek, one of the wings' chains wrapped around Jigsaw's throat and yanked him backward. His feet flew off the ground, his head slamming against the sand. Iron Wings screamed and clutched at her own head while the wings moved around her like angry animals. "I said stop!"
A second chain punched through Jigsaw's chest.
For a second, nobody moved except the wings. They twitched and rattled on Iron Wings' back, slowly dragging her through the sand toward Elias and Cole.
"Elias," Cole whispered, "I don't think she's controlling those things."
"Yeah," Elias said. "I noticed."
Jigsaw staggered upright again with the chain still sticking through him. His body jerked wrong, twitching like a puppet being yanked by invisible strings.
"You stupid bitch," he snarled.
The detached pieces of him started crawling back through the sand. Cole saw one of the hands creeping toward Elias. He fumbled with the
THIS IS A TOPDOWNUNDER STOP LINE
Elias turned to her, smoke rising from his revolver. "You want help or not?"
"II can't"
He lunged forward, grabbing one of the thrashing chains and pulling hard. The spike tore free from the sand and coiled toward his face. He ducked and swung his knife, slicing through the metal cable. Sparks burst like fireworks, the woman screaming in pain.
"Cole!" Elias shouted. "The rifle!"
Cole tossed it, and Elias caught it by the barrel. He used the chain to pull Iron Wings towards him and jammed the butt of the rifle into the joint where the wings met her shoulders. The rifle cracked, the gears screamed, and the wings jerked violently.
"W-wait!" Iron Wings gasped.
Elias didn't hesitate. He swung the knife again — once, twice — and the last bolt gave way.
The wings screamed like something alive being killed, then went still. They fell away from her back with a crash, twitching weakly in the sand before going silent.
Iron Wings fell to her knees, breathing hard. The desert was quiet except for the soft whine of cooling metal.
Cole crept forward. "You… you okay?"
She looked up, eyes shining faintly behind the goggles. "You cut them off."
"They were killin' you," Elias said.
"They were me."
Iron Wings' voice was quiet, like the wind had hollowed it out. She stared down at the heap of metal in the sand.
Elias wiped the blood and oil from his knife and crouched beside her. "Not anymore."
She laughed bitterly. It sounded more like a cough. "You don't understand, Marshall. Those wings weren't just tacked on to me or put together like Jigsaw. I was born with them, grew up with them. They used to listen to me, used to like me, but… I guess we grew apart. They liked MCD way more than I ever did… Whatever, they're gone now."
Cole took a tentative step closer. "You don't have to go back to them," he said. "You could… You could come with us. Just for tonight, at least. There's food. Fire."
She shook her head, then stopped, too exhausted to argue. The tremor in her shoulders said she could use the rest. "I can't keep runnin', and that's all you two are about to do. But…" She hesitated, then looked up at the two. "One night couldn't hurt."
They made camp again, closer to the rocks. Cole got the fire going. Elias poured a little water over a rag and handed it to Iron Wings without a word. She pressed it against the raw scars where the wings had been.
Cole tried to smile. "We've got beans left, and some jerky if you're lucky."
She let out a tired chuckle. "Haven't eaten anything all day. I'll take it."
They ate in uneasy silence. The desert had gone still again, as if it was listening. Elias stared into the fire, his face lit in flickers. Cole kept sneaking looks at the two of them, still trying to make sense of the night.
After a while, Elias spoke up. "Iron Wings. Got a name?"
She hesitated for a bit, looking into the fire. "…Otekah."
Elias nodded, mouthing the name to himself.
"You killed Kilchii," Otekah pointed out.
Elias shrugged. "He started it."
"You should burn what's left of him. The body'll try to pull itself back together if you don't."
Cole looked at the pile of limbs lying a few paces away. "You're jokin'."
"I'm not."
Elias stood without a word and tossed one of the torches onto the heap. The dry leather and oil caught fast. The fire roared up, the smell of scorched metal filling the camp.
Otekah didn't flinch. She watched the flames with a detached expression.
Cole glanced between her and the body. "You sure you don't wanna stick with us after this? Could use another set of hands."
She smiled faintly. "If I stay, they'll come. And I don't want that blood on my hands. You two still got a chance to live."
Elias grunted. "Can't say that's the plan."
She looked at him, eyes soft. "Then at least die on your own terms."
The three of them sat until the fire burned to embers. One by one, they drifted into uneasy sleep — Elias with his revolver across his lap, Cole snoring against his saddle, Otekah curled near the remains of her wings.
When the first light of dawn broke, she was gone.
Elias woke first. The spot where she'd slept was cold. All that remained was a scrap of black cloth from her cloak and the faint trail of bare feet leading out into the desert.
Cole stirred, rubbing his eyes. "Where she'd go?"
Elias stood, gazing toward the horizon where the tracks faded into the glare. "Wherever folks like her go when there's nothin' left to fight for."
He turned to his horse, tightening the reins. "Come on, postman. We got a lot of trail ahead of us."
Cole glanced once more at the wings, the morning light glinting off their broken metal. "Think she'll be all right?"
Elias mounted up. "No."
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