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The Black Colt

July 2024 Flavor of the Month: Snake-Head Whisky

Sneak Peek

The shadows cast by the morning sun striking the tops of the plateaus were like the yawning wakes of tombstones over the rust colored sand and skittish plant life. There was no sound besides the errand whistle of wind as it carved the waterless islands littered across the landscape. In the last gasping shadows of night there was a gentle stillness that took the land, and only one thing disturbed the sand. A rhythmic thrum of hooves. Along the horizon a dust cloud had been kicked up. From the bird’s eye one could see a man atop a black horse, the dust being kicked up like a thread of fear being ripped from the fabric of the sands, tearing the landscape with a dusty blanket that hovered just too long. As thought the dirt was afraid to land back down where that rider had tread.

A town in the distance was right in line with the rider’s path and there was no stopping him. The sun broke over the horizon and bathed the world in light just as the rider reached the town sign. Tombstone was the name of the town and the rider trotted under the sign just as the night ended and dawn broke over the horizon. Like some creature confidently escaping the night the rider rode down the main strip. Plenty of activity had already started, wanting to get things done before the sun scorched away any ambition.

Anyone on the strip could see that rider, his dark eyes shaded by his dusty hat, his bandana faded from the sun had tainted into a blood-clot red. His poncho was more like a coat, the coat tails fluttering behind his horse like reaper’s cloth. His vest clung to his chest and was pushed out by his gut, the dark fabric splotched with burn marks and stains. The bandolier he had was missing several bullets, and his holsters were filled with a duo of black revolvers. His chaps matched his spurs. Old, worn, and touched by an age gone by. A stillness filled main street as he clopped his way forward, his horse nickering and tossing its mane as if to dare anyone to approach.

“Calm down girl,” the rider spoke, his voice deep and gruff from years out in the desert. “We’ll get you something to drink and eat here soon.”

The horse huffed, careening to the side and ignoring its rider’s commands.

“Fine. You’re as stubborn as a mule you old girl. Food and water first. I’ll set you up nice.”

The horse guided them to the nearest watering hole, a trough set up for horses outside a large general store. The rider dismounted, his spurs rattling as he swaggered up to the dusty mouse boy tending the front.

“You, boy,” the rider flicked him a coin, the metal glinting in the morning sun before the lad caught it. “Water and feed for the horse. I got business next door.”

“I…” the mouse fumbled with the coin before catching it and his eyes going wide. “Right away sir, but you shouldn’t leave your ride alone. I can’t keep her safe ya know.”

“Huf,” the old man tipped his hat. “If she wanted to go with another rider she would have by now son. Trust me, any who try to rider ‘sides me won’t see another dawn.”

“She a wily one?” The mouse boy looked up at the majestic horse before him, her coat like silk and her mane whipped by the wind.

“Only if you try to ride her,” the rider went over to one of the saddle bags and pulled out a handkerchief that was stained red on one side. “If anything, she’ll keep you safe. Just like me, she’s got a soft spot for kids.”

The horse huffed before leaning down to drink from the trough.

“Now I got business next door. Treat her right.”

“Aint you gunna tie her up?” The mouse asked, his head cocked, his hat almost falling off and exposing his gray ears.

“Nah, she’ll behave as long as there’s food and water. Now get to it.”

The man turned and swaggered off to the building next door. He walked up the steps, the floorboards greeting him with their usual squeaks and groans. He stood outside the door, the closed sign baring his path. Just as his shadow darkened the doorway though, a paw came to the sign and flipped it over to open, the door unlocking for him.

“Ray, how on earth do you always get here so early?” The coyote opening the door looked more like he should be at a bank counting coins than a bounty office, but then again, it was the bank that was funding them here. He had a green visor, his green and white striped vest went well with his tanned pants. His hair was almost all gray, a few wisps of strawberry hidden in the aging coyote’s mane.

“Nice to see you too Red,” Ray smiled and pulled his hat off, his salt and pepper hair finally revealed. Ray was a badger, his hair long and weathered from the sun and wind, his smile broad and predatory, and a gold tooth gleaming on his smile.

“Ho, boy,” the old coyote scratched his head with his visor. “No one calls me Red anymore except the misses.”

“Like you ever touched pussy in your life,” Ray strode into the office, the dark wood a nice contrast to the sun-bleached grays and whites outside. “I got my bounty.”

“What, is he waiting outside?”

“The bounty said dead or alive,” Ray smirked, holding up the handkerchief.

“Oh my,” Red sighed and took the fabric and going back behind the counter. “This all that’s left of him? It’ll be difficult to get proper identification—”

“I think it’ll be sufficient for the reward.”

Red looked up at his old friend and unwrapped the fabric to reveal what he knew was going to be inside. A strip of flesh that had been skinned off the badger’s most recent kill. It had black fur, silky and smooth and an opening right in the middle. Then a large scar ran down it like a lightning bolt.

“I really shouldn’t be squeamish about your exploits anymore Ray,” the coyote sighed and pulled up the wanted poster of a black bear. On the left side of his face was a dead eye and a scar that matched the skin exactly. “Prettier than the picture. Did he put up much of a fight?”

“Do any of them?” Ray chuckled darkly.

“Are you ever going to tell me what you do with the bodies? You know you can tell me.”

“Red, you know you ain’t supos’ to ask,” Ray smirked. “How are the kids doin’?”

“They’re growing up just fine. Colt has a nice ranch set up out Cali way.”

“Glad you’re keeping them nice and looked after.”

“How could I not when their father is the meanest bastard this side of the Mississippi,” Red chuckled.

“Why aint I the meanest one in the whole country?” Ray smirked.

“Come now. Ray Coulter might be the most infamous bounty hunter in the west, but you ain’t whipping slaves.”

“Who’s to say I ain’t?” The badger leaned forward, his face dark with an evil gleam. “Who’s to say I ain’t the worst thing alive.”

“I know what everyone else says about you Ray, but you can’t scare me,” the coyote shrugged. “We’ve known each other since we was kids. Not like you’re going to pull one over on me now.”

“One of these days Red, I’ll make you regret being so chummy with me, I bet.” Ray smirked.

“The fact you still call me Red is enough to tell me what you really think.”

“Well, Lawrence, maybe things is about to change in this here town and you might not be so safe.”

“When you get to be my age you don’t really give much of a rat’s ass what way the wind blows so long as my kids are well taken care of.”

“That’s a good answer,” Ray smirked. “Man, if you were twenty years younger, I’d plow you into the dirt hoping to give you more of my pups.”

“Too bad the misses isn’t up to it anymore. I’d love to be a dad again.” Lawrence was completely unphased by the badger’s remarks. “So, for payment, would you like it deposited in the usual account?”

“You’re in charge of my money, Red. You just make sure I have access to it.”

“You’re going to have to find someone else soon to take care of your affairs,” Lawrence shrugged and winced, his shoulder cracking. “These old bones still got some years in um, but you’re kidding yourself if you think I’m going to be around as long as you.”

“A little birdy told me you got something nice for me,” Ray changed the subject. “Did we finally get the kind of bounty I’ve been looking for?”

“You heard right,” Lawrence signed before wrapping up the face clipping and pulling out a wanted poster. On it was the scarred up face of a drake. “Wanted dead or alive, but the reward is doubled if you bring him back alive.”

Ray looked over the poster and grinned, a dark hungry smile that only grew wider as his thumb brushed over the ink that penned that face.

“He’s perfect,” the badger growled. “The name’s Jesse?”

“A man could retire off the bounty if you were to bring him back alive.”

“He’s worth more to me dead,” the badger took one of the wanted posters and folded it up. “Any leads on where he might be?”

“Word is he’s shacked up with Rattlesnake Jake,” the coyote shrugged. “The Snake’s crew has him more locked down tighter than a high wire.”

“My balance is pretty good,” Ray nodded to the coyote and made his way out.

“Ray, keep in mind what I said. You’ll need a new accountant before you know it. The years are getting shorter every day.”

Ray responded by letting the bell ring on his way out. The badger swaggered over to his horse where the little mouse was feeding her.

“Come on girl, we got to get going soon. Once word hits the wind of this little bounty, something tells me the Snake isn’t going to keep ol’ Jesse alive for long.”

“She’s a good eater Sir,” the boy smiled a toothy grin, one of his buck teeth still coming in.

“That’s ‘cuz she knows she needs to get it in when she can. Come on girl let’s go!”

In response she nicked and flicked her tail over to smack the hat off the badger, revealing his face.

The mouse froze.

“What’s wrong boy?” Ray smirked darkly as he picked up his hat and put it back on.

“I…you’re…”

“That’s right, and if you don’t got no bounty there ain’t nothin’ for you to worry about.”

“I…” the mouse squeaked out, his throat holding back a scream as a dark spot formed on his pants.

“Come now boy, your mama ain’t going to appreciate you soilin’ your trousers.”

“MOMMY!!!” The mouse screamed, tears breaking over his cheeks and making streaks in the dirt.

“Tom!” A female mouse came running out of the front and grabbed the little mouse boy. “What’s wrong baby?”

“It’s the Black Colt!”

The woman froze and turned to see the man at their front stoop. Her eyes went wide and scooped up her son. The badger simply smiled and pulled one of his revolvers.

BANG!

The woman screamed, but froze in her tracks. She looked over her son, then herself, but her eyes landed on the wall just a single pace in front of her. A bullet hole broke the wall to reveal freshly chipped wood.

“Don’t you be moving another step,” Ray smirked, his gun smoking. “That be what we in the business call a ‘warning shot.’ So, do me a favor and keep your screaming to a minimum. I need some supplies. You’re the general store manager, right?”

The woman was frozen in fear, unmoving, her jaw quivering as she clutched her sobbing son.

“Speak,” Ray cocked his gun. The threat very clear.

“Yes,” the woman breathed out.

“Good, cuz I’m going to need some supplies. The usual things. Provisions, bullets, whatever I’d need for the next few days.”

“We…”

“You got provisions, don’t cha?”

“Of course,” the woman nodded.

“Then get me whatever this’ll fetch,” he tossed a coin sack at them, the woman flinching and the boy screaming. “And it better be gathered before Nightshade finishes her feed. She’s a fast eater.”

The woman took her son back into the store and Ray leaned on his horse and sighed.

“Some people believe far too much of the stories, don’t they.”

Nightshade just kept munching on her feed.

“Did you knock my hat off on purpose?”

She responded by whipping her tail and Ray secured it with his hand.

“You cocky girl,” Ray rumbled.

It didn’t take long for their provisions to come back and for the Badger to set off. The store was the talk of the town, the bullet being pried away and the believers searching it for magic. It was just like any other bullet, and the water his horse drank from wasn’t soiled with bile or disease. The ground he walked wasn’t defiled or salted, but suffice to say, the town’s people smudged the area as best they could. Ray didn’t come into town very often, but often enough for people to know where the famous bounty hunter came to collect his bounties.

People say he has the eyes of an eagle and the strength of a bull. They say he can sniff you out like a wolf. They even say he’s over a hundred years old and sold his soul to be young and powerful forever. All the stories held a grain of truth, but no one knew if they were really true, but every once in a while Red would get drunk at the tavern and tell the ol’ story about how his friend from childhood grew up to be the meanest, roughest, toughest bounty hunter to have ever live. Even Ol’ Red didn’t know everything about the bounty hunter, but he knew enough not to ask directly.

Some say that if you find out how he got his powers, you become like him, or that he found the fountain of youth but it came with a dark consequence. Either way, Ray would never tell.

The only people that knew, he dealt with, and he was going to make sure Jesse knew, and the whole Rattle Snake gang if it came down to it.

It would normally take a seasoned bounty hunter several days to track down Rattle Snake Jake’s hideout, but Ray had scored a bounty on one of his men some time back and saved the location of their hideout for a rainy day. He reached the gorge by sundown and waited for the glow of lanterns and campfires to guide him from there. He left Nightshade atop the gorge in exchange for stealth, making his way through the dark as he usually did.

Ray was so ready for his next bounty he could almost taste it.

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