Wanted

Central City; the district at the center of the Big City. It was the richest, grandest, most technologically advanced city among the Valley Strip and the Ridge. It possessed the densest population housed in the tallest buildings and spoiled its residents with the latest trends and amenities. The entire district glowed as though a golden light constantly shone from above. The paved streets were always clean, and motor carriages dominated the streets over those towed by horses.

A pale, old man walked along the sidewalk beside one of the many busy streets. His sideburns connected to a thin, white beard and mustache, trimmed short and neat. A black leather rancher hat shaded his face from the harsh sun. His eyes were tired but kind. He wore a gray dress shirt only visible at the collar because of the tailored, black vest and long, black coat he wore overtop. A black leather belt tightened his black denim trousers around his hips. The shining spurs on his black, polished boots rattled with every step he took. Under his coat, a pair of silver six-shot revolvers in black holsters were clipped to his belt, one on each hip. In his veiny hand, he carried a straight, black cane with a fancily cut opal capping the top end.

The man went by many names. Some knew him as Silas Navarro. Armani Anderson called him Chester Gaines. Most people referred to him only as “Midnight,” one of the most wanted outlaws across the whole valley, yet one of the least recognized. All the other rich, elderly folks in fancy clothes or business attire walking the streets of Central City nodded to him politely or simply ignored him altogether. To them, he was just another faceless stranger they would never see again. Midnight, on the other hand, paid attention to every single one of them, watching carefully and examining every detail of their faces as they briefly passed by.

A middle-aged woman with a light-colored blouse and dress hurriedly crossed the street while carrying a large briefcase. An older man in a colorful suit and a frilly hat caught Midnight’s attention with a cocky laugh. He was surrounded by half-a-dozen cooing women with two of them under his arms as they walked. An old, sunburnt hobo lay on the corner of a busy intersection. He wasn’t begging for money, just lying on a dirty blanket and shading his eyes from the sun with his hand.

Midnight stopped, blocking the sun, and looked down at the homeless man with a neutral expression. The homeless man returned the gaze, silent, possibly waiting for Midnight to say something, but Midnight said nothing. A few seconds later, two deputies stepped up beside Midnight. The pale outlaw discreetly reached into his coat and touched the handle of one revolver, but the deputies were focused on the hobo.

“Come on, get up!” one of them shouted and roughly grabbed the homeless man’s arm, hoisting him to his feet. The deputy shoved the man against the wall, then turned him around and held the back of his shirt collar to direct him down the sidewalk while the other deputy picked up the raggedy blanket, then looked at Midnight.

“Sorry you had to see that, sir,” the deputy said. “He won’t bother you anymore.”

The deputy tipped his hat, and Midnight offered a weak smile and a shallow nod, then the deputy followed his partner up the road and disappeared into the blurry herd of people.

Midnight continued his walk and soon reached a fancy restaurant along a major street. An awning cast a wide shadow over the entrance, and the tinted windows provided the diners with suitable privacy. Once inside and seated by himself at a table in the corner, Midnight sipped ice water from a tall, fancy glass and unfolded a crisp wanted poster he had kept in one of his coat pockets. In large, bold letters the poster read:

Curtis “DAWN” Conrad

Wanted: DEAD or ALIVE

Reward: 58.5 G

The sketch of Curtis was updated using reference photos from his fight against the White Snakes, so his hair was shorter, and he still sported only a mustache instead of a full beard. Midnight pinched the corner of the poster and stared at its contents. He sighed after taking another sip of water and leaned back in his chair.

“What’re ya doin, boy?” he whispered. “Ya should’a just moved on.”

***

At the edge of Big South where it meets Big West, Curtis and Sly arrived at the statue of General Leonard Walter just in time. A distant clock with bells that echoed far and wide chimed noon and Curtis and Sly rested in the circle of grass surrounding the base of the statue. They breathed heavily. The constricting feeling from the mysterious man’s spell finally faded and after they caught their breath, they stood up, remembering that they needed to be visible to someone from Minutes ‘til Midnight who should be in the area looking for them.

“I hope they sent Mina,” Sly said. “It’s hard to make out anyone in this traffic, but she’d tower over the rest of them.”

The statue was positioned in the middle of a large pedestrian section that doubled as a median between several major roads. The area was dense with people moving every which way. In the meantime, they waited by the statue and gathered their thoughts.

“She had to be the one,” Curtis said under his breath, trying not to let anyone overhear.

“Yeah,” Sly said. He was also convinced then. “But does she have a spell? Maybe she wasn’t actually the one who killed Erin Glass.”

“The fortunes an’ Erin’s death haveto be connected. Sweeney knew what happened to Erin before we brought it up an’ was confident that the same thing would happen to him.”

“Maybe,” Sly groaned and scratched his chin. “Although, both Erin and Sweeney seemed satisfied with their fortunes, meaning they must have been pretty accurate and specific. It wouldbe hard to predict two peoples’ futures like that without a special ability.”

“There’s also the fact that Erin died immediately after her fortune came true,” Curtis added, “while Sweeney was still alive ten days after his came true.”

“So, maybe they’re two separate spells. If so, I imagine the future sight belongs to Fortuna, but then who possesses the weird skin confetti death spell?”

They both thought for a moment and had the same initial idea.

“Could it be that cat-eyed freak?” Curtis said after the pause.

“But he had another ability,” Sly countered. “That’s what we just witnessed, right? We were forced to do whatever he said. Our bodies moved on their own.”

“Hmph,” Curtis grunted. “Must be a charmin’ spell like mine er Silver Tongue’s.”

“Yeah,” Sly agreed. “A lotlike Silver Tongue’s, actually.”

While they contemplated the unsettling possibilities, Smiley appeared behind them and gently tapped on each of their shoulders. Without looking at Curtis or Sly or saying anything at all, Smiley kept walking past them. Per Trapper’s instructions, Curtis and Sly followed Smiley at a comfortable distance and kept a few people between themselves so it was less obvious that they were walking together. Even once they reached a slightly less bustling section of Big West, they remained distant from Smiley and each other until finally entering Peace Meadows where Smiley led Curtis and Sly into the forested section that made up the northern third of the park.

They then came together and maneuvered through the dense foliage to reach Minutes ‘til Midnight’s hideout. Sly hesitated upon seeing the shack shrouded by trees and bushes.

“Uh, Smiley?” he asked timidly.

“Yes?” Smiley answered and stopped and turned around to face Sly.

The men were only about ten yards away from the shack.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but are you about to murder us in that shack?” Sly swallowed and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. “You can be honest,” he added.

Curtis furrowed his eyebrows and looked at Sly, then at Smiley who stood absolutely still with his long, thin arms held behind him. His suit was clean unlike when they last saw him, but his toothy smile and sunken eyes were even more harrowing in this setting.

Then, Smiley slowly raised one arm, pointing at Sly with a finger gun. He smiled widely, revealing his tiny, yellow teeth and thick gums.

“If I wanted to kill you both,” he said in his usual calm, flat tone and pointed his finger gun at Curtis, “I wouldn’t need to bring you in there.”

What felt like several minutes (but was really only a few seconds) passed in silence before Sly finally, nervously laughed. Smiley also chuckled in his strange monotone way.

So creepy! Curtis thought as he, too, joined in the awkward laughter.

A minute later, Smiley turned and led Curtis and Sly the last few feet through the dense trees until they saw the shack in full view. Before they reached the front steps, the door opened and out walked Doc.

“Well, well,” he said and greeted the trio with a warm smile. “Look who it is! ‘Bout time. We almost started t’ think y’all had gone an’ gotten yerselves caught!”

Curtis and Sly grinned. Before they said hello, Mabel appeared beside Doc in the doorway and upon seeing her companions, her face glowed with immense cheer.

“Curtis! Sly!” Mabel shouted, an enormous smile splitting her face. Her eyes glistened as though she were about to burst into tears. She ran down the front steps, passed Smiley who slid past Doc and into the cabin, and across the clearing in front of the cabin to give each outlaw a long hug. “It’s been weeks! I started worryin’ that you two weren’t comin’ back fer me.”

“We’d never ditch you like that!” Sly exclaimed.

“I know,” Mabel sighed, holding her smile. “How’s the investigation goin’?”

“It’s had its ups an’ downs,” Curtis answered. “And unfortunately, we ain’t quite done yet, so I’m afraid that means we’ll need ya to stay here a bit longer.”

Mabel frowned. “I can still help you guys,” she moaned. “Please let me come! I promise I’ll do everythin’ you say and won’t mess anythin’ up!”

Curtis laid his arm across the girl’s shoulders and rubbed her hair with his hand.

“We appreciate it, but it’s really fer the best ya stay here,” Curtis said sympathetically. “But we ought’a be done in another day er two. We won’t leave ya out of all the action. It’s been a lot o’ back an’ forth through the city. The fewer people we have t’ keep track of, the better.”

Mabel swiped Curtis’s hand off her head and looked at the ground.

“I get it,” she mumbled, then leaned into Curtis and looked up at him with a renewed smile. “I’m really glad to see you guys, though. Are ya stayin’ long?”

Curtis looked at Sly who shrugged and replied, “At least until dark. The final part of our investigation could be tonight, so we’ll need to head out after sunset.”

Doc stood in the doorway, watching them across the clearing. He leaned on the doorframe with his arms folded, grinning at the reunited trio as they gleefully chattered about the last couple weeks’ events. Gentle footsteps behind him then drew his attention; Taking a couple steps outside and onto the short steps, he turned to see Virginia now standing in the doorway.

Doc grinned and they looked at each other silently for a moment. Virginia didn’t return the smile but met Doc’s eyes, slightly looking down at him, with a blank stare.

Doc nodded over his shoulder and said, “Sounds like Dawn and Sly aren’t stayin’ long.”

Virginia tilted her head just slightly and looked in the corner of her eyes for anyone else standing behind her. Smiley had made his way to the back of the cabin to hang up his revolver. Trapper and Mercy sat on the couches by the fireplace. Rowan was seated at the table toward the back of the cabin near Smiley.

She looked at Doc again, whose friendly grin had become more inquisitive.

“You’ve been keepin’ a close eye on Mabel a lot lately,” Virginia said quietly. “And you’ve been actin’ weird ever since she tagged along with us.”

“Weird how?” Doc asked with a raised eyebrow. “Dawn and Sly entrusted her to us, so of course I’mma keep close watch on ‘er.

“I know that look in yer eye, Henry,” Virginia said and crossed her arms. “I can tell the gears are turnin’; have been fer weeks. When were you gonna let me in on yer plan?”

Doc sighed and closed his eyes for a few seconds, then opened them and grinned at Virginia again.

“I’m just lookin’ forward to the future; that’s all,” he said calmly. “We got our advance fer bringing Curtis and Sly to the Big City, our other deals are provin’ fruitful so far, and if we’re lucky we’ll only add to our fortunes if Agents Totem and Merlot decide to use Mabel as bait.”

He stepped up and turned his torso to walk past Virginia and into the cabin, but Virginia yanked the door shut in front of him. She crossed her arms and blocked the door with her body.

She glared at him standing immediately in front of her, just a couple inches taller. And said sternly, “That wasn’t part of the plan.”

Doc inhaled deeply. There wasn’t room for the two of them to stand on the top step, so he placed his left foot one step below for balance, then raised his right arm and pressed his hand against the door above Virginia’s head. Virginia glanced at Doc’s raised arm and furrowed her brows as she adjusted her feet for a sturdier stance.

“It wasn’t part o’ the plan because we didn’t know we’d have Mabel with us,” Doc said with a shrug, speaking softly with his face inches from Virginia’s. “Now that it’s an option, it was an obvious suggestion to try an’ swindle some more cash from our informants.”

“And ya didn’t think t’ tell me first?” Virginia raised an eyebrow. “The original plan still sounds good to me, regardless o’ whatever you promised the Government.”

“See, I knew you’d disagree.”

Doc smirked at Virginia and tried to step back up on the top step, but she pushed him back down. He rolled his eyes and put his hands into his pockets with a sigh.

“And then ya did it anyway,” Virginia fumed. Her voice had more power now, but she kept her volume low. “I thought we discussed things before makin’ changes. Our plans’re dangerous enough. We still don’t have any real protection if Government decides to just come an’ take Mabel by force, er really do anythin’ else they want with us.”

“You’re not thinkin’ ‘bout what’s best fer our group.”

“I am thinkin’ about the group! You’re pushin’ things farther than necessary which is puttin’ everyone at risk.”

Doc frowned and placed his hands on his hips. Virginia took a deep breath before continuing.

“We should let Mabel go free after the Government takes Dawn, Sly, and Esprit.”

“Oh, yeah. Fer sure,” Doc said, nodding. “The Government might not even want to use Mabel. We’d definitely let her go, then. She’d be no good to us. And this would be the best place to do it. The Big City is ripe with opportunity for a slinkin’ lil’ urchin like her.”

Virginia scowled. She clenched her jaw and took an angry, shaky breath.

Doc shrugged. “What’s done is done. Sometimes a leader’s gotta do what he’s gotta do.”

“I thought we didn’t have a leader,” Virginia retorted.

Doc exhaled harshly, trying not to outright chuckle, and took another step up. “Please, Ginny. We both know you and I call the shots in our group.”

“Don’t call me that,” Virginia snapped. “I hate that nickname.”

Doc stepped up to the top step and slammed his right hand against the door again, forcing Virginia back. Doc pressed his body against her and his face hovered within a couple of inches of hers. He smirked and examined her fair face.

“Something’s obviously gotten ya fired up,” Doc growled, “but you need’a cool it.”

“Of course I’m fired up,” Virginia hissed. “Because you—”

“Nuh-uh, zip it. Don’t say another word.”

Doc leaned in even closer, and Virginia turned her face, wincing from the physical proximity and the tingly feeling from Doc’s breaths on her neck.

“I don’t care what it is, but now you’repissin’ me off. Take a lap an’ when you’re ready to air yer grievances like a grown woman, come find me.”

Doc reached beside Virginia and twisted the door handle with his left hand, pushing it open and brushing past her with an annoyed shove.

Virginia stood there for another minute, infuriated and breathing shakily. The door remained open just a crack. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists, breathing deeply and trying to relax. She opened her eyes and looked at Curtis, Sly, and Mabel standing in the clearing, still chatting and laughing together. They hadn’t seemed to notice the hushed argument, but as Virginia turned to walk inside, she met Curtis’s eyes with only a brief glance and knew that he must have seen at least part of their confrontation. Just how much he paid attention, she wasn’t sure, but she was certain that he couldn’t have overheard the topic of discussion.

***

Once inside, Curtis and Sly shared some of what they had gathered about Midnight’s connection to the Mystic Program. They didn’t explain everything, but told the group about the mysterious shipments that Inez seemed to be in charge of, repeated what Lennox Sweeney had mentioned about something called Midnight Wilter, mentioned the strange openness the former Mystic Program researchers all exhibited so far, and finished by saying that Sweeney had also received a fortune and was confident that he would share Erin Glass’s fate. They explicitly excluded any mention of the person named Immortal.

“We didn’t have long to grill him,” Sly said. “We escaped just as the authorities arrived at his townhouse.”

“That’s a shame,” Doc said. Everyone gathered on the furniture by the fireplace with a couple people sitting on the ground and leaning against the table. “And he was in totally good shape? No sign of burstin’ into dust?”

“Not that we saw,” Curtis answered. “He did say somethin’ along the lines of ‘I know my time is coming’ which reminded us of what Erin said just before she died. I half expected his body to start dissolving right then, but luckily it didn’t.”

Doc and the rest of Minutes ‘til Midnight took in the information. Virginia stood in the corner, leaning against the wall near the dormant fireplace with her arms crossed.

“And then,” Curtis continued. “We ran into who we think must be the person who read their fortunes. She was called Fortuna. There was someone else with ‘er, too, whom we think has a spell that makes you obey his commands, like Silver Tongue used to. Whether er not Fortuna’s spell is future sight, turning people to dust, er somehow both are related, we aren’t sure.”

“Very intriguing,” Smiley said with a wide grin while wringing his hands together.

“Wait. Fortuna?” Trapper asked from the floor. “I think I’ve seen her a couple times around Big West.”

“I’ve definitely passed her little stand one er twice,” Virginia added. “I hadn’t thought much about it honestly.”

“How ‘bout that?” Doc said, winking at Virginia. He then looked at Curtis and Sly again and said, “I bet our group could handle huntin’ her down while you two finish yer investigations into the former directors.”

“Just watch out for the tall dude with her,” Sly warned. “He seems like no joke.”

“Noted,” Doc replied with a nod. “But before discussin’ any o’ that, we got some of our own intel ‘bout Midnight to share with ya.”

Curtis leaned forward on the couch he, Sly, and Mabel shared. “Please do.”

“Well,” Doc groaned, scratching the back of his head. “It ain’t too much. We still haven’t been able to squeeze out the details of Midnight’s spell from our informants.”

“Who are these informants, exactly?” Sly inquired.

Doc paused and looked at Sly, then said, “They’re trustworthy. We know they have sources inside the Government, but Midnight’s a well-guarded secret that only the real important folk git to know about, so info’s scarce.”

Sly nodded and folded his legs, then Doc continued.

“Anyway, we do know that Midnight’s spell apparently isn’t that powerful in the traditional sense. He ain’t out there controllin’ things with his mind or blowin’ anythin’ up, but it is the source of his incredible ability to evade the Government, hence why they ain’t caught ‘im yet despite apparently knowin’ so much about ‘im. Our informants also said that his spell ain’t the only thing the Government’s after. The secrets he holds are even more valuable. And—” Doc pointed a finger at Curtis. “That’s also why they want you so bad.

“They don’t give a damn ‘bout yer spell, but the fact that you’re connected to Midnight makes you valuable, too. I bet they know you were with him fer a few years, so to them you must know a -hell-of-a-lot about whatever it is they want. Likewise, our informants warned us that if we ain’t careful, the Government might turn their sights to ourgroup. Luckily, besides Virginia, most of us never had much of a relationship with Midnight, so we ain’t worth much. Not yet anyway. Regardless, we don’t wanna take too much risk, so we’ll be relocatin’ to another hideout. We’re plannin’ to leave tonight.”

“Makes sense,” Sly said.

“Do ya think we should relocate, too?” Curtis asked. “We’ve been sticking our necks out quite a bit lately. I’ve had a feelin’ they’ll catch on to us soon.”

“Wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Doc said. “We should be able to set you up somewhere new after we move. We’ll happily take Mabel with us if ya need more time, but, if y’all want ‘er…”

Curtis and Sy glanced at each other briefly, then Curtis said, “It’d be best if she stayed here. Just a little longer.” He looked at Mabel when he added the last part.

Mabel’s eyebrows slanted upward and she smiled, disappointed but understanding.

“We’re goin’ after the other retired director Inez told us about,” Curtis continued. “Taylor Howell. He lives in a mansion near the Ranger Academy. Lots o’ security and no obvious way in, but we saw ‘im sneak out the other night, so we think that could be our window.”

“The problem is,” Sly jumped in, “we’ve only seen him go out once. He didn’t go last night and when he does, we expect he’ll be very cautious. It’ll he hard to sneak up on him.”

“Take Virginia with ya,” Doc suggested.

Virginia stood straight and uncrossed her arms while staring uncertainly at the back of Doc’s head.

“She’s great at scoutin’ and catchin’ people off guard with ‘er spell,” Doc said.

Curtis and Sly silently considered the option, then Curtis said, “You sure? We don’t wanna drag anyone else down with us if we git caught.”

Doc shrugged, then looked over his shoulder at Virginia. She inhaled slowly and looked at Curtis and Sly, then at Mabel.

“What’cha think?” Doc asked and Virginia glared at him again.

“Her Spyware spell would be pretty useful,” Sly mumbled, rubbing his chin.

Curtis nodded in agreement.

Virginia stared at Doc for a few more seconds, then exhaled.

“Sure,” she said. “I can pin Howell down before you guys move in.”

Doc grinned and turned his attention back to Curtis and Sly. “And she knows where our new base is, so she can bring y’all there when you’re done.”

Curtis and Sly talked with Mabel more while preparing for their mission. Sunset was approaching quicker than they realized and they didn’t want to miss seeing Howell exit his mansion. They also filled in Virginia on more details about the rangers patrolling around Howell’s plot and where he went the first time they saw him sneak out.

“What’re those?” Mabel asked upon seeing the costumes Curtis and Sly brought in bags.

Virginia peered into the packs and stifled a laugh with her hand. “Are those disguises?” she chuckled. “Ya can’t be serious.”

“You don’t git it,” Curtis defended. “I thought it was dumb at first, too. I don’t know if y’all’ve been to Big North much lately, but there are wanted posters everywhere. It’d be impossible fer anyone to not recognize me er Sly.”

“No, I know,” Virginia said, taking breaths to calm herself down. “It’s smart, really, but it’s gettin’ dark out. By the time we git there, yer hats’ shadows’ll be plenty to disguise you. These things’ll only make you stand out.”

Virginia placed the leather packs with her own bags she had packed for the move.

Sly crossed his arms. “They worked the past couple nights,” he pouted.

A couple hours later, it was time to go. It would take about an hour to walk from the cabin in Peace Meadows to Howell’s mansion which was slightly on the east side of Big North.

Before departing, Virginia approached Doc who sat alone at the table near the cabin’s mini kitchen. Curtis, Sly, and Mabel were outside saying goodbye and the rest of Minutes ‘til Midnight noisily played a game of cards on the sofas. She yanked a chair out from under the table and sat down forcefully. Doc looked up from the newspaper he was reading and grinned.

After a moment, Virginia said “I talked to Rowan about keepin’ an eye on Mabel while I’m gone. But don’t worry; I didn’t spill yer little scheme to her yet.”

Doc raised an eyebrow and glanced at the rest of the team on the other side of the cabin.

“I’m not sure if you think sendin’ me with Dawn and Sly will help yer plan at all,” she said quietly, leaning over the table. “But it certainly won’t help to change my mind about it.”

Doc put down the newspaper, then opened his mouth to speak, but Virginia cut him off.

“If you do anything to that girl while I’m gone, there’s gonna be real hell to pay.”

Doc pressed his hands on the table and stood from his chair, leaning over the tabletop and matching Virginia’s quiet intimidation.

“I gave them another chance to take ‘er away and they still declined,” Doc asserted. “Whatever happens to Mabel now ain’t entirely my fault.”

“You wanna put ‘er in harm’s way fer what’ll amount to pocket change. The Government doesn’t care about her. Usin’ her as a decoy would be a throwaway tactic, a last-ditch effort if they can’t manage to catch two guys who we’ve practically presented to them on a platter. They won’t care what happens to ‘er in the ensuing conflict.”

“So? Why should they? Why should we?”

“Because she’s innocent in all this!” Virginia turned to see the rest of their group still distracted with their card game. She had begun to lose control of her volume and took a few breaths to regain composure. “Mabel has nothin’ to do with Midnight and nothin’ to do with the Government. She’s just a sad little girl tryna do somethin’ better with ‘er life than beg to survive one more day. Lester Langley already took away ‘er real family and we’re ‘bout to git rid of the last two people she loves. The least we can do is keep ‘er away from the fire.”

Doc closed his eyes and slowly sat in his chair. When he opened his eyes again, Virginia still scowled at him, undeterred. He sighed and tapped his pointer finger on the table.

“I knew yer loyalty to the group was waning,” he said calmly. “I didn’t wanna believe it.”

“What?” Virginia whispered.

“If you think that the others’re on your side in this, you’re sorely naïve,” Doc chuckled. “The rest of us are dedicated to our mission. It don’t matter who’s watchin’ Mabel. Even Rowan, the one least invested in Midnight, would still turn on Mabel if it contributed to our goal.”

Doc stood again, gently this time, picked up his newspaper, and spoke slowly.

“You are all alone,” he said, drawing out each word.

Before Virginia could say another word, Doc walked away and joined the others on the couches. Virginia breathed heavily and clenched her fists, then stood and collected her hat, belt, and revolver and joined Curtis and Sly outside.

Upon seeing Virginia, Curtis and Sly hugged Mabel goodbye.

“You two better not git yerselves into more trouble,” Mabel teased.

“They’ll be all right,” Virginia said as she stepped into the clearing. “I’ll take yer spot as the responsible one fer this trip.”

Mabel giggled and thanked Virginia, then watched the trio fade into the darkening forest. Another pair of eyes watched them hike through the woods. The Shadow Mamba, Demura Aiko, slinked through the treetops as quiet and smooth as a serpent, always keeping the trio in his sight.

*** 

The sun had set before Curtis, Sly, and Virginia reached the hill overlooking the mansion.

“I hope we ain’t late,” Curtis said as the three of them peered at the illuminated plot.

Virginia examined the walls and the layout of the yards. She scanned the dozens of doors and windows around the mansion, seeing a few vague figures throughout the building, but she had no idea what Howell looked like. She blinked twice and the quiet click and whir of a camera shutter signaled the snapshot of her vision being saved forever to her memory.

“Looks like we’re good,” Sly said. “The rangers’ shift change hasn’t happened yet. Assuming that’s his usual window, we still have time.”

“Let’s hurry,” Curtis directed and rushed down the hill.

The trio crouched in the darkness of the tree line and watched the back gate like before. They couldn’t see over the wall now, but Curtis and Sly expected the shift change to occur at any minute. However, a few minutes soon turned into an hour and Curtis and Sly began to worry that Howell wouldn’t sneak out tonight, either, which reinforced their suspicion that the first night had been a trap. But what was the Government planning after it failed? Surely, they would send rangers or deputies out to search the vicinity if they knew Curtis and Sly were watching nearby.

Virginia sat beside them quietly. Her arguments with Doc replayed in her mind repeatedly. She couldn’t help to think of various things she could have said to twist the disputes in her favor. She didn’t want to believe that everyone in the group would completely agree with Doc’s plan for Mabel, but she also knew that none of them had been too concerned about the morality of their actions up to that point. Aside from pointlessly killing people, nothing was off the table if it pushed them closer to finding Midnight.

She thought about telling Curtis and Sly about Doc’s plan, just spitting it out and facing her own punishment right there if it meant saving Mabel, but kept her lips sealed.

Get ahold of yerself, Virginia, she thought. Would it really be worth ruining everythin’ you and the team have worked toward just to save one little girl.

Curtis and Sly were whispering something to each other, but Virginia didn’t listen. She stared blankly at the plot’s eastern wall.

I barely know her, Virginia contemplated. Maybe Doc’s right after all. It ain’t worse than what we’ve done before. Besides, whatever Taylor Howell can tell us ‘bout the Mystic Program and Midnight could be extremely useful and there’s no way these two would continue this mission if they knew Mabel was in danger.

“Virginia,” Sly whispered. “Hey, Virginia!”

Virginia snapped out of her trance and looked suddenly at Sly.

“Sorry, what?” she whispered back.

“The shift change should’ve happened by now. A couple nights ago, Howell snuck out when all the rangers patrolling the perimeter gathered at the front gate. Two of them stayed while the rest left, and Howell snuck out the rear gate when none of them were watching.”

“I see,” Virginia sighed. 

“If he hasn’t come out yet,” Curtis said quietly, “I doubt he’ll come at all tonight. It’s prolly best if we head back and try again tomorrow. If that don’t work, I don’t know what the next step’ll be, but we can work that out with the others.”

Virginia looked again at the plot’s walls. “We could wait a little longer,” she whispered. “You said most of the rangers would leave through the front gate, right? So, we should be able to see some of ‘em come ‘round that corner.”

She pointed to the southeast corner of the wall.

“I wasn’t payin’ attention to that side, so maybe I missed ‘em if they already left.”

“No, you’re right,” Sly said. “I’ve been glancing that way, too, but haven’t seen any of the rangers leave. I agree; let’s stay a bit longer.”

Curtis nodded and continued watching both sides of the plot with the others.

Sure enough, no more than a half-hour later, Sly spotted some of the rangers coming around the southeast corner. Virginia and Curtis watched the rear gate closely and spotted an older man dressed in all black exiting from the back of the plot.

“That’s him!” Sly whispered with excitement.

“Let’s move,” Curtis said.

As they secretly trailed Howell, unbeknownst to any of them, the Shadow Mamba stalked them through the city streets. Just like the first night, Curtis and Sly kept their distance and Virginia followed their lead. They tracked Howell down back alleys and side streets to various destinations including a local tea shop and a bar in the college town that was filled to the brim with Ranger Academy frat and sorority kids. Also, like the first night, Howell didn’t purchase anything from the shops he visited, and he didn’t enter any restaurants or recreational businesses.

The trio were patient and quietly tailed him until he turned around to make a beeline back to his mansion. On his way, he stopped at a popular sweets shop but didn’t do more than window shop. The store was closed at that late hour and after he had his fill of eye candy, he turned the corner and walked down a narrow alley leading behind the sweets shop and toward his mansion again. He walked hurriedly.

When Howell was well within the alley, stranded in the shaded hall between main streets, Curtis stepped around the far corner ahead of Howell and stood with his hands on his hips, fingering his revolvers. Howell slowed, suspicious of the silhouette ahead of him. He couldn’t see the figure’s face or make out many details in the darkness. Sweat accumulated on his forehead as his stomach began to churn. Howell peered over his shoulder, planning to turn back to the main road, but he spotted another silhouette now standing at the side he entered from. He stopped walking and looked frantically between the two exits.

With a nervous gulp, Howell sighed and spoke stutteringly.

“I- I don’t want any trouble,” he said.

His voice echoed up the alley’s brick walls. He stepped t one side and stood near the wall, doing his best to keep an eye on both assailants who slowly walked toward him.

“Ya want c- cash?” Howell spat. “Er how ‘bout my scarf? It’s a nice one, I promise. H- here… take ‘em.”

Howell undid his scarf from around his neck and tossed it toward Curtis, then rolled a small coin purse along the ground toward Sly.

“I’m just an old man,” Howell begged. “Please don’t hurt me.”

He took deep breaths to calm his nerves and stood ready for a confrontation, but before Curtis or Sly got close, Howell was grabbed from behind. Howell yelped as two fair arms protruded from the brick wall he pressed his back against. One arm wrapped around his torso and held him against the wall while the other went under his arm, pinning him in an awkward pose, and one hand covered his mouth so he couldn’t scream again.

His efforts to calm himself down were completely abandoned and replaced by true terror at the horrible sight he witnessed. The arms held him firmly against the wall as Curtis and Sly stood in front of him. The retired director looked at the men’s faces in the darkness and began to recognize them as the outlaws from the news; the ones giving the Government so much trouble lately. He didn’t entirely calm down, but he steadied his breaths and prepared for whatever might come next. This was no robbery, he realized.

“Listen,” Curtis said to Howell quietly and calmly. “We don’t wanna hurt ya. We just have a few questions.”

“Don’t try to run or make any noise,” Sly added. “Otherwise, we’ll be forced to subdue you and take you somewhere more secure for questioning.”

Howell nodded quickly, then Curtis looked at the wall behind him where a pair of green eyes stuck out from the wall. Virginia’s spell still creeped Curtis out. He nodded and Virginia removed her hand from Howell’s mouth.

“Okay, first thing’s first,” Curtis began.

A familiar throwing star suddenly appeared, sticking out of the wall a few inches from Howell’s face. The retired director gasped, and Virginia quickly silenced him.

Curtis looked at the star and furrowed his eyebrows. “Huh?” he groaned.

“Watch out!” Sly shouted just before the alley was consumed in a pluming purple cloud. Curtis and Sly stepped back from the wall and looked around frantically, covering their mouths and noses and coughing from the sudden burst of dyed smoke. Virginia closed her eyes and retracted them back into the wall. They burned from the smoke. She kept her arms exposed to maintain her hold on Howell. Howell’s eyes also burned. He squinted, tears streaming down his cheeks, and glanced around the alley. Purple was all he saw.

“Great,” Sly moaned. “Not this guy again.”

Curtis was then struck by a ferocious jab to his left side. He flung himself around and through a blind punch but saw no sign of the Shadow Mamba in the dense haze. Then, the shining blade of the Shadow Mamba’s ninjatō cut through the smoke and sliced Curtis’s right arm. Sly saw the ranger’s silhouette and lunged to lock him in a grapple, but the Shadow Mamba quickly retreated into the lingering purple cloak.

I can barely see, Sly thought. The smoke’s blocking the moon and streetlights. It’s too dark!

“Sly!” Curtis called through the thick cloud, pressing one hand over the cut on his arm. “We need’a keep an eye on Howell!”

The Shadow Mamba appeared again and pummeled Sly’s back with two lightning-fast kicks, then slashed through Sly’s dark dress shirt with his ninjatō. Sly’s cry of pain warned Curtis who spotted the ninja’s vague form and rolled out of the way just in time to dodge the throwing stars the Shadow Mamba threw right after attacking Sly. As he recovered from the roll, Curtis withdrew his revolver and held them at the ready with his fingers on the triggers.

“Don’t shoot!” Sly shouted. “That’ll only draw more attention to us like last time. We’re in the part of town with the most rangers in the immediate vicinity.

Curtis stood and held his revolvers close. Sly’s back pressed against his.

“He is right,” they heard the Shadow Mamba’s grizzly, dramatic voice echo through the smoke. It was just as cringy as during their first encounter with the ninja ranger.

Curtis and Sly took shallow breaths, coughing after each exhale, and squinted their eyes while trying to watch for any sign of movement. Curtis caught a glimpse of skulking shadow and raised his hands just in time to block another double-kick using his revolvers. The Shadow Mamba then leapt through the air and landed only a couple yards away from Curtis and Sly, but they could still barely see him through the persisting fog.

He’s improved his smoke bomb’s duration since last time, Curtis thought.

They saw the Shadow Mamba’s blurry silhouette as he stood straight with one arm raised, pointing two fingers up in front of his face.

“We meet again, outlaws,” the Shadow Mamba said in his Ridge accent.

“This didn’t end well fer ya last time,” Curtis threatened.

“Yeah!” Sly shouted. “Just get out of here, Shadow Mama!”

The Shadow Mamba growled and snapped back, “It is Shadow Mamba!” before disappearing completely behind his misty purple veil.

Curtis and Sly pressed into each other’s backs and stood ready for another flurry of blows, but only heard the Shadow Mamba’s echoed laughter.

“You are fools for even thinkingof entering the Big City,” the Shadow Mamba said. His voice boomed throughout the series of surrounding alleys.

Sly smirked and looked up in the smoke. “You must’ve gotten promoted, Demura! How’s the Big City treating you over Rich River?”

“That does not matter now,” the Shadow Mamba replied seriously. “But I must say, I am glad to have the opportunity for a rematch. This time, there is no one else around to save you!”

The Shadow Mamba dropped from above, landing with his feet on Curtis’s shoulders. Sly immediately turned around and thrust his entire body forward with a powerful punch but the Shadow Mamba leaned back, causing Curtis to fall into Sly’s blow. As Curtis gasped for breath, the Shadow Mamba leapt off Curtis’s shoulders with a backflip and kicked him into Sly. The two outlaws stumbled away, Sly catching Curtis as he still tried to regain his wind.

Howell watched the shrouded fight and tried to speak, but Virginia’s hand gripped his mouth tightly. He strained his jaw and opened his mouth just enough to bite down on Virginia’s fingers while scratching at her other arm. She recoiled, releasing Howell, and pulled her arms into the wall.

The Shadow Mamba landed elegantly and stepped toward Howell.

“Do not worry,” the Shadow Mamba said. “I am on your side.”

“I know who you are,” Howell replied.

“You must go quickly! Can you run?”

“Yes,” Howell answered and made a break for the far end of the alley through the smoke.

Curtis recovered as best he good while taking deep breaths of smoke and coughing violently from each deep breath. The smoke seemed to finally be fading, though, and he and Sly could see Howell dashing away from the scene.

“Dawn, go after Howell,” Sly said and looked at the Shadow Mamba who soon disappeared into the hazy shadows.

Curtis coughed and looked at Sly with squinted eyes. “You sure?” he asked. “This Shadow Mamba guy’s tough. Even together, he gave us trouble in Rich River.”

“I know, but he can only focus on one of us if we split up. So, go!”

“I do not think so!” the Shadow Mamba yelled and reappeared from the shadows.

The smoke had almost completely dissipated. A slight shuffle in the darkness to Sly’s right drew his attention and Sly twisted around with another punch. The Shadow Mamba caught the punch, but the force of the blow pushed the ranger back with the soles of his soft fabric shoes skidding on the dusty cobblestones.

Curtis moved in the opposite direction to chase after Howell, but the Shadow Mamba swung his arm out and released three more throwing stars which whizzed through the air, curved around Curtis’s body, and pierced the ground in front of Curtis. Curtis stuttered to a stop, then the ranger yanked a thin cord from a coil attached to his belt. He twisted Sly’s wrist, then leapt back and forth, zigzagging and weaving all around him in a shadowy tornado. The cord tangled around Sly and in only a few seconds, Sly was completely immobilized.

Curtis had no time to worry about Sly and ran past the throwing stars, but the Shadow Mamba quickly cut him off with an impressive high jump and backflip over Curtis’s head. As soon as he landed, he berated Curtis with a whirlwind of punches and kicks.

Meanwhile, Howell ran down the alley and reached the end where he came out to a main road. He looked left and right, then sprinted across the street and down another thin side road. He kept his eyes forward, moving impressively quickly for an elderly man. Ahead of him, a large crate sat on the side of the road and as he got closer, half a leg extended from the crate. Howell noticed just in time to hop over the leg, then rolled over his shoulder and quickly recovered to a defensive stance with his feet wide apart and his fists raised.

Virginia’s head then popped out of the top of the crate. Howell stared at the strange sight, observing that Virginia seemed to phase through the object.

“I didn’t think a geezer like you could dive like that!” Virginia exclaimed in shock.

Howell smirked and eyed Virginia closely. “I ain’t so easily fumbled despite my age,” he teased. “Not even by a fancy spell like yers.”

Virginia grinned and retracted her limbs back into the crate.

Howell tensed up and prepared for another surprise attack. From a shuttered window one story up, Virginia dove, but Howell gracefully side-stepped out of the way. Virginia flipped and landed on her feet, then immediately reached out to grab Howell again. Howell spun around and slapped Virginia’s hand away, then spun once more and dropped himself low to sweep at Virginia’s feet, tripping her. Before she slammed into the ground, Virginia phased her upper body through the cobblestones and swung her legs, kicking Howell in the chest.

Virginia then pulled her legs underground with the rest of her body. A moment later, her hand reappeared from the ground and grabbed hold of Howell’s ankle. The retired director stumbled back and leaned on a nearby barrel, gripping the edges of the barrel’s top and hoisting his feet into the air. Virginia held tight and ejected herself from the ground but let go when Howell rolled backward and stood on top of the barrel. He lunged at Virginia with a flying kick. Virginia raised her arms and was thrust back. Howell was swift and dropped low once more.

The nimble old man swept a second time at Virginia’s feet. This time, Virginia hopped to avoid the strike, but Howell continued the circular sweeping motion and instead caught the handle of an empty bucket near the barrel and used his foot to pass the bucket to his hand. Howell stood just as Virginia’s feet touched the ground again and he swung the bucket wildly. Virginia juked around the attacks and extended her arms to catch the bucket which Howell immediately released then jabbed his palm into Virginia’s sternum, knocking the wind out of her.

What’s with this guy? Virginia thought in the brief pause between attacks. How’s a feeble old man movin’ like that?

Stunned, Virginia held up the bucket to block the incoming punches that Howell followed up with at an incredible pace. She was forced backward by the onslaught and backed herself against a wall underneath an awning of overlapping corrugated metal sheets amateurly nailed together. Howell broke the rhythm of his punches and leapt upward to kick one of the metal bars supporting the awning, causing the awning to drop down on one side. He jumped again and grabbed the awning and slammed it down, breaking the other support and crashing the whole structure down onto Virginia.

Virginia phased through the metal sheets and tossed the bucket at Howell who deflected the bucket with his knee and kicked the bucket high into the air. Virginia found herself in between Howell’s arms after the awning fell to the ground. She grabbed at his arms and gripped them tightly, then yanked the old man in and butted the top of her head into his nose. The bucket came falling back down and landed on top of Virginia’s head with a painful CLANG. She released her grip on Howell who stumbled backward and leaned back against the barrel. Virginia tumbled back onto a pile of old boxes and potato sacks.

Howell sniffled and rubbed his bloodied nose, then wheezed with breathy laughter.

“You use yer spell quite effectively in a fight, miss!” the retired director exclaimed.

Virginia rolled over and hoisted herself to her hands and knees. She breathed heavily and said, “Are you a ninja, too, er somethin’?”

“Ha! Not quite,” Howell scoffed. “I do take tai chi classes twice a week, though. The wife and I used to go together, but ever since she got sick, she just can’t move er stretch like she used to. I started taking double classes to make sure I remain capable enough fer the two of us.”

Virginia groaned and stood on her feet once again, fists raised and ready for another round. Howell grinned and wiped his nose again, then mirrored Virginia’s stance.

Meanwhile, Curtis and Sly’s struggle against the Shadow Mamba continued. The air was clear at last. While Curtis defended against an onslaught of punches and kicks, Sly rolled on the ground, trying to break the cord wrapped around his entire body. He put all his strength into flexing his arms and legs and it seemed to be just enough as the cord strained and began to tear. Finally, Sly burst free and scrambled to his feet just as the Shadow Mamba disappeared once again into the shadows.

“Sly,” Curtis said, pressing his back up again Sly again. “Taylor’s gettin’ away. We need’a try to separate again.”

“I think I saw Virginia go after him,” Sly replied. “She should be able to slow him down at least. He’s just an old man.”

“Good. Then we can keep workin’ together. I don’t think the Shadow Mamba’ll let us go unless we defeat ‘im again.”

“You’re right about that. Are you picking up on the pattern?” Sly asked quietly.

“Yeah, it’s just like when I fought Slasher. The second time, he used the same routine as the first. This guy’s no different.”

Sly looked around the dark alley and yelled, “Come on, Shadow Mama! We’re ready!”

“For the last time, it is Shadow Mamba!”

The Shadow Mamba howled as he leaped from a small balcony high above the outlaws’ heads. Sly instinctively raised his arms and blocked a couple kicks. He reacted quickly and grabbed one of the Shadow Mamba’s ankles, but the Shadow Mamba was quicker and twisted his body around to grapple Sly in a choke hold using his legs.

Sly threw himself downward, still gripping the Shadow Mamba’s ankle, and slammed the ranger into the ground. The Shadow Mamba bashed his head into Sly’s face and rolled backward, breaking his ankle free from Sly’s grasp, and sprang up to attack Curtis. He jabbed the backs of Curtis’s knees, tripping the outlaw, then pushed him to the ground. In one smooth movement, the Shadow Mamba withdrew his ninjatō from the short scabbard resting horizontally just above his tail bone and brought the blade down with two hands to stab right between Curtis’s eyes.

Curtis rolled out of the way at the last second and scrambled to his feet. He and Sly now stood on either side of the Shadow Mamba who stood straight in the same stance as before and closed his eyes to focus. His left hand pointed two fingers straight up in front of his face while his right arm crossed his chest horizontally and he held the ninjatō backward in his right hand.

The outlaws charged at the ranger from both sides, but before they could attack, the Shadow Mamba jumped straight up and grabbed onto a thin windowsill straight above him. He leapt and swung off various ledges and pipes and quickly ascended three stories before landing softly on a metal fire escape directly above Curtis and Sly. He breathed steadily, then opened his eyes and looked down at the outlaws.

“I am growing tired of this frivolous fighting,” said the Shadow Mamba. “I will see to it that you are both finished off and arrested right here and now!”

The Shadow Mamba lunged from the fire escape in a swan dive, then somersaulted in the air and flared out his arms at the same time releasing several throwing stars which Curtis and Sly noticed too late to dodge.

They raised their arms to block the stars as best they could and moaned from the piercing pain as three or four stars each stabbed their arms. That was the least of their concerns, though, once the Shadow Mamba landed as gently as a feather on the ground and immediately slashed at Sly with his ninjatō.

“That’s it, Sly!” Curtis shouted from behind the Shadow Mamba. “Distract him fer me!”

The Shadow Mamba glanced over his shoulder while he continued to berate Sly and saw that Curtis appeared to be keeping his distance.

What is he up to now? the Shadow Mamba wondered.

Noticing Sly’s confused expression, he thought about the possible strategies that Curtis and Sly could employ and prepared himself to counter any of them.

Sly defended himself well against the Shadow Mamba’s slashes and punches but was unable to turn the tables and go on offense for any of his own strikes.

“Now, Sly!” Curtis shouted, still several yards away behind the Shadow Mamba.

The Shadow Mamba examined Sly’s face and saw another confused expression.

I remember, the Shadow Mamba thought. They pulled the same trick in Rich River, as well. Their roles were reversed, but I recognize this tactic. Dawn wants me to believe that Sly will do something, but in reality, Dawn will run up from behind to strike!

The Shadow Mamba swiftly turned around and swung his ninjatō at Curtis who was close behind him now, swinging his arms down for an overhead slam. Instead of slicing through Curtis’s arms, however, the blade cut into a large sac of flour Curtis had retrieved from a pile by the sweets shop.

Flour exploded from the torn sac and covered the Shadow Mamba in a thin white layer of powder, forcing him to close his eyes. Curtis then wrapped the empty sac around the Shadow Mamba’s wrist and yanked his arms down, disarming the ranger. The ninjatō clattered to the ground and the Shadow Mamba used his free hand to reach for his black revolver, but Sly kicked his hand and grabbed both his wrists, then pinned the ninja ranger on the ground face-down. Sly pulled the Shadow Mamba’s arms while Curtis retrieved the shackles from the ranger’s belt and locked his wrists behind his back. Sly then pulled more of the cord from the coil on the Shadow Mamba’s belt and Curtis stuffed the empty flour sac into the ranger’s mouth.

“And in you go!” Sly groaned as he hoisted the squirming ranger up and tossed him into a nearby barrel face first.

The Shadow Mamba’s feet barely stuck out the top of the barrel, but to be certain of his detainment, Sly slammed the barrel’s lid on top.

Curtis and Sly took deep breaths for a few seconds, then looked around to make sure no one had been watching the fight to intervene after the Shadow Mamba’s defeat.

“I think Virginia went that way,” Sly huffed and pointed west down the alley.

The outlaws gathered their breaths and rushed to catch up with Virginia and Howell.

***

Virginia and Howell faced each other, standing no more than six feet apart with raised hands and wide stances.

“We both know I can outrun ya,” Virginia stated. “There’s no point in runnin’. You’ll have to knock me out before ya can escape. Plus, Dawn and Sly’ll catch up soon, so it’ll be easiest if ya just give up.”

Howell chuckled, then said, “Give up? Darlin’, this is the most alive I’ve felt in years.”

He drew his arms close to his chest and entered a balanced pose with his arms down and his hands pressed flat against the air near his hips. Virginia watched cautiously as he breathed in slowly and raised his hands up to shoulder-height, then lowered his hands again as he exhaled.

“What is this?” Virginia asked hesitantly.

After repeating the motion two more times, Howell turned to his right and widened his stance with his right foot behind and his arms extended to either side.

“A simple form I learned at the first classes my wife and I ever attended together,” Howell answered and entered the pose known as ‘Grasp the Sparrow’s Tail.’

He brought his hands together in front of him and leaned back, then stepped backward with his left foot and performed the same movement mirrored on his left side before spreading his arms once more, entering another pose called ‘Parting the Wild Horse’s Mane.” His movements were slow, methodical, and meditative.

Virginia seized the opportunity when Howell extended his right arm out again and grabbed at his wrist, but in the blink of an eye, Howell twisted Virginia’s arm and pulled her close, then leaned his weight to one side and swung the woman over his shoulders and onto the ground with a hefty THUD. The wind was knocked out of Virginia again and saliva splattered from her open mouth. A second later, Howell jabbed the back of Virginia’s neck and struck a precise nerve to knock her out cold with one jab.

Howell released Virginia’s arm which fell limply to the ground. He stood straight and pressed his hands down in front of his chest and stomach with a deep exhale.

Ridiculous, Taylor, Howell thought while staring down at Virginia lying unconscious on the side of the narrow road. Ya can’t be doin’ this kind o’ thing no more.

“Virginia!” Curtis cried from the main street.

Howell looked up briefly and saw Curtis running toward him. He slowly backed away, then turned and ran down the road while Curtis stopped and knelt by Virginia, holding her head in his hands and inspecting her body for injury.

How gentlemanly, Howell thought as he ran. More concerned fer the woman’s health than ‘bout catchin’ me. Can’t say I’m disappointed. I’d rather not find out why they’re after me.

Howell turned down an avenue leading to a more direct route to his mansion but immediately slammed into Sly’s large body when he turned the corner. Sly grasped his arms firmly and twisted them behind his back like he had done with the Shadow Mamba. He pushed Howell forward and walked him back to the side street where Curtis had already propped Virginia up against the pile of boxes and bags

“I dunno what ya did to ‘er,” he said when Howell returned, “but doesn’t look like she’s too badly hurt.”

Sly met Curtis’s eyes and nodded, then pushed Howell into another short alley way. Just like they had done with Inez, Curtis and Sly both blocked the only exit from the dead-end so Howell couldn’t slip away easily. But given that he had beaten Virginia in a fight, neither outlaw let his guard down for even a second.

Curtis sighed and looked at Howell. “Now, where were we?”

“What d’ya want from me?” Howell asked sternly. All fear from the initial encounter with Curtis and Sly had been expelled.

“Like I said, we just have some questions,” Curtis explained. “Specifically, we wanna know a bit more ‘bout this Mystic Program you used to work on.”

Howell frowned and scowled at the outlaws. “How d’ya even know ‘bout that?”

“You aren’t the first Government employee we’ve talked to,” Sly replied.

“Does the name Erin Glass ring a bell?” Curtis inquired.

“Oh, tragic,” Howell whimpered. “Real tragic what happened to ‘er.”

“And I assume ya know exactly how she died,” Curtis said. “Tell us, has yer fortune come true yet?”

Howell huffed. “I ain’t never got no fortune.”

“Oh.,” Curtis said. “Really?”

“Lennox Sweeney told us that some of the retired directors were encouraged by their superiors to exit the program,” Sly said. “We figured you all had your fortunes read as part of that process. Erin died soon after hers came true and Lennox seems pretty confident that he’ll meet the same fate, though his fortune came true a while ago. Was that not the Government’s way of getting rid of you so you couldn’t leak information?”

“I wouldn’t put it past the Government t’ do that,” Howell said. “The fortunes weren’t a requirement, though. Not fer me, at least. Perhaps the Government trusts me more,” he shrugged.

“Whatever,” Curtis hissed. “Doesn’t matter. As long as you’re cooperative like Erin and Lennox, we’ll let ya go. So, tell us how Midnight was involved in the Mystic Program. And what did a person called ‘Immortal’ have to do with it?”

Howell grinned widely and snickered wheezingly. “Ah, yes. I should’ve known!” He clasped his hands together and shook them like he was rolling a die. “I know who ya are. I also know the Government’s still hot on yer trail. It’s real risky fer ya to be in the Big City, don’tcha think? Especially here in Big North where—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Curtis interrupted. “Just give us the info we want.”

Howell snickered again. “I’ve heard yer reputation. You boys don’t like killin’ people unnecessarily. Why should I tell y’all anythin’? I ain’t afraid.”

Curtis and Sly looked at each other out of the corner of their eyes. Curtis sighed and stepped forward with his arms spread just a bit in a vulnerable gesture.

“You’re right,” he said.

Sly furrowed his brows but stayed silent while Curtis spoke.

“We prolly can’t make ya say anythin’,” Curtis continued, “but I’ll tell ya, that woman ya managed to knock out has friends who aren’t so opposed to brutal methods. They ain’t above doin’ harm to the elderly if it gits ‘em what they want.”

“Hmph, okay,” Howell responded. “But I doubt she’ll wake up soon. And if I’m out o’ the house much longer, my servants’ll notice I’m missin’ and my private security’ll come lookin’, so y’all better hurry this up.”

“When Erin and Lennox answered our questions,” Sly broke in, “they both said they didn’t care about the Government or keeping its secrets.”

“They both knew they were close to death anyway,” Howell stated. “That’s why they weren’t afraid.”

“Are you afraid?” Curtis asked?

“Hell naw!” Howell exclaimed. “The Government wouldn’t dare do nothin’ to me. Sure, I was high up in the food chain er whatever, but more importantly, people know me ‘round these parts! They know my face. If I suddenly went away, the public would know something’s up.”

Howell turned around and faced the dead-end wall, then raised his fists in the air and shouted, “Do ya hear me, Everett? Ya can’t do shit!” His voice echoed high above the alley and into the warm, open air.

“Quiet down!” Curtis yelled.

Howell chuckled and faced the outlaws again.

“Tell ya what,” he said. “Since ya went through the trouble of gettin’ me alone, and because yer friend entertained me fer a bit—miss Virginia, was it?—I’ll oblige y’all with a tidbit o’ knowledge. But just know that I’m only tellin’ y’all because as soon as ya let me go, I’ll be callin’ in the tip that you’re here in the Big City.”

Howell grinned and widened his eyes, staring directly at Curtis.

“Let me say,” he stated, “I’m a little surprised you’re askin’ me about Midnight considerin’ you’re supposed to be the one with all the knowledge. That’s why the Government wants ya, anyway. Very interestin’ clue right there.”

He kept his arms crossed but waved one hand around as he spoke.

“Never mind that. I’m only sharin’ info with ya because I have some old contacts that’ll like to hear you’re in town, so you’ll be arrested soon enough anyway. Here’s what I’ll tell ya.”

He stopped pacing and leaned against the alley’s dead end and grinned at the outlaws, arms still crossed.

“Midnight’s part in everythin’ isn’t as simple as one, two, three. He served a couple roles in the Mystic Program alone, plus some other stuff here and there elsewhere, but none o’ that was my business. If y’all’ve really spoken with Erin Glass and Lennox Sweeney, I take it y’already know what spell bindings are.”

Curtis and Sly nodded silently.

“Midnight was our point o’ contact fer acquirin’ the necessary materials to create bindings,” Howell explained.

“So, Midnight wasn’t the one producing Midnight Wilter?” Sly asked.

Howell raised his eyebrows and said, “Damn, so you’ve heard about that, too?” He shrugged. “I doubt it, er maybe I know and just won’t tell ya. Maybe that’s why it’s named that.”

“I doubt it, too,” Curtis said. “My guess is it was actually this ‘Immortal’ fella who produced Midnight Wilter. That would line up more with what Sweeney told us. Am I close?”

“Ah, I was wonderin’ how ya knew ‘bout Immortal, too,” Howell replied. “So, it was Sweeney who spilled those beans. Well, I ain’t gonna confirm er deny nothin’. Besides, Sweeney’s an idiot who believed every lil’ thang the Government told ‘im, which of course was only partially the truth. They did that to everyone, includin’ me, but I had close relations to some o’ my superiors, so they always slipped me the real info on the side. Immortal’s dead now, anyway; has been fer a while, so it don’t matter regardless. Ain’t none of us learned how Midnight Wilter was produced. Our mystics had to make do with scraps leftover from old strains and use thinner doses of bindings which had a lower success rate, but a higher distribution ratio.

“I was never the numbers guy, but I guess the Government considered that to be more efficient in the long run. Who knows? Maybe by now they’ve cracked the code and are pumpin’ out bindings left an’ right. If that’s the case, you outlaws are in fer a world o’ hurt come the next few generations of rangers.”

“What the hell does thatmean?” Sly asked.

Howell adjusted his crossed arms and turned his face away from Curtis and Sly, huffing.

“I ain’t sayin’!” Howell barked. “Y’all got enough outta me already.”

“Just tell us this,” Curtis chimed in. “Was Immortal involved in any experiments about transferrin’ spells between people?”

Howell rolled his eyes and glared at Curtis, then said, “I’ll tell ya it didn’t lead anywhere, so there’s nothin’ to tell. But like I said, who knows? Maybe they figured it all out after I left.”

A minute of silence passed before Howell took a few steps toward the outlaws, saying, “You know, y’all got quite some balls, I’ll give ya that. They might’ve made ya too cocky in the end, though. If you’d asked me fer advice, I’d have told ya to stop snoopin’ around so much ‘cause you’re bound to find somethin’ ya don’t like.”

Howell stared into Curtis’s eyes through the darkness. The only light in the alley was from distant windows high above and the full moon shining down silvery beams upon the interrogation.

“Hmph, well,” Curtis chuckled. “Like ya said, you only promised to tell us one thing, and ya already did that, so I’ll pretend I didn’t hear anythin’ that came after.”

Howell smirked and gritted his teeth, finding Curtis’s reply frustratingly amusing.

“You said it yourself,” Sly said. “It’s too late for us anyway, assuming you uphold your promise of telling everyone you still know in the Government that we were here tonight. I assume Sweeney will have done so, too, but we’re still here snooping around.”

“I never liked you, Sly,” Howell growled. “Always did sloppy work. May I go now? Any minute I’m sure my security’ll be combin’ the streets, and it won’t take long fer ‘em to narrow down where I’d be.”

“Yeah, we’ll let ya go,” Curtis said “Ya called our bluff already, so no point in tryna scare ya into keepin’ quite ‘bout all this, but that doesn’t mean we’ll make it so easy fer you to rat on us.”

Sly stepped forward and Curtis followed just a pace behind him.

Howell took a defensive stance and raised his open fists. “I warn ya, I’ll do to y’all what I did to yer friend!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sly groaned.

Curtis moved quickly around to Howell’s right side and reached out his hand. When Howell reacted and attempted to block Curtis, Sly moved in from the opposite direction. Howell spun quickly but met Sly’s powerful fist which came quicker than he could have expected. A single blow to the nose is all it took, and Howell was out cold.

“I’ll never not be impressed by that, Sly,” Curtis complimented.

“Thanks,” Sly said with a wide smile. “I really hope that didn’t kill the geezer outright. I kinda forgot to hold back.”

He knelt quickly and felt for Howell’s pulse which, thankfully, was noticeably present.

“Okay!” Sly cheered with a thumbs up.

Curtis sighed, then turned around and looked around the alley, listening for signs of anyone else nearby.

“Leave Howell there,” Curtis said to Sly. “If his security’s as tight as he claims, it won’t be long before they find him. Let’s git out of here as fast as we can.”

“Roger that,” Sly obeyed and knelt by Virginia. He grabbed her arm and shook her gently, then lightly slapped her cheek. She still didn’t wake up.

“Dang, Howell must’ve beaten her real good,” he said and hoisted the woman over his shoulders.

Curtis looked at Sly concerned.

“Don’t worry,” Sly said. “I got her.”

Curtis sighed again, then nodded once.

Curtis and Sly strategically wandered through the back roads and alleys of Big North, but before making it more than a few blocks, Sly suddenly stopped.

“Wait,” he said, concentrating hard.

Curtis halted, waiting for Sly to elaborate.

“Doc said they were switching hideouts,” Sly explained. “Probably tonight. Virginia was supposed to take us to the new spot when we finished, but…”

Curtis exhaled sharply. “Damn,” he grunted. “Guess we better head to the apartment, then. It’ll take a while now that we’re positioned all the way across the city, though.”

“I’ll get us there on the fastest route I can think of,” Sly replied.

Curtis followed Sly farther into the alley and around a bend, but Sly stopped again and froze. Curtis looked ahead and noticed a man standing at the other end of the alley. The front of the man’s body was cast in shadow and the streetlamps along the adjacent street backlit him, making it even harder to make out his features. From his silhouette, Curtis and Sly made out a cattleman hat and poncho. They also saw that the man was holding one arm out to them, the silver gleam in his hand being the only hint at the true danger.

“Evenin’, gentlemen,” the ranger in front of them said.

The ranger was calm, and his greeting lacked any sarcasm or intimidation, almost as though he were genuinely wishing the outlaws well. Curtis and Sly stood still, jointly thinking of a cover story should the ranger question them, but he spoke again before they had the chance, and they knew they wouldn’t dodge this roadblock without a fight.

“I’m hopin’ you’ll explain to me what you’ve done with Taylor Howell,” the ranger said.

It was no use playing dumb. Curtis and Sly remained mute and motionless.

“Don’t be shy,” the ranger urged.

Curtis and Sly shifted their weight uneasily. Curtis’s boot slid just slightly against the dirty cobblestones.

“Wouldn’t run,” the ranger said. “We ain’t off on the wrong foot just yet. Seems you don’t know who I am, so allow me to introduce myself.”

The ranger took a dozen paces toward the outlaws, his gun still trained on them, though in the shadow of the alley they couldn’t tell just who he was aiming at. As he moved closer, however, his clothing and face became clearer in the darkness

Oh, shit, Sly thought, stomach sinking.

Curtis didn’t recognize the man, but something about him was different. The feeling that filled his throat and chest wasn’t unlike what he felt in the encounter with the cat-eyed man, but this was a much gentler decline into fear. Curtis could tell by this guy’s demeanor and the presence he commanded that he was no ordinary ranger.

“My name’s Frank Stewart,” the ranger said. “Professionally called Cobra. I’m a doyen.” 

Oh, crap! Oh, crap! Oh, crap! Sly panicked. His sweaty hands squeezed the arm and leg by which he held Virginia across his shoulders.

You’ve gotta be shittin’ me, Curtis thought, frantically planning an escape. He knew he and Sly were in no shape to face off against a doyen, even if he was alone.

He and Sly were tired from travelling all day, and Sly was certainly more exhausted even from just the short distance carrying Virginia.

“I get it,” Cobra said after another minute of silence. “Terrifying situation, huh? Yeah, you ought’a be terrified, but let’s all stay calm. Things’ll get a lot worse if you do anythin’ stupid. I’m takin’ a page from yer book here; cooperate and everythin’ will be okay.”

Cobra took Curtis and Sly’s muteness as an affirmative response.

“Where’s Taylor Howell?” he asked.

Curtis took a deep breath, then answered, “An alley across the street from some sweets shop up a few blocks up.” It’s a weak effort, but maybe he’ll leave us to check on Howell, he thought. “We left him there unconscious; not dead in case that’s yer first thought upon seein’ him lyin’ on the ground.”

This isn’t going to help us, Dawn, Sly thought.

Cobra nodded. “I know the spot. Already got one o’ my teammates combin’ that area.” The doyen cocked the hammer of his revolver which was now obviously pointed at Curtis. “You’re foolish fer comin’ here,” he said, glancing between both outlaws, but Curtis suspected that it was meant mostly for himself. “I don’t care ‘bout yer reward, Sly, and yers, Dawn, can be claimed with warm or cold blood, so I really don’t have much reason t’ take either of you alive.”

Curtis and Sly were petrified. The weight of Virginia’s body on Sly’s shoulders felt like a cloud compared to the pressure he felt from this unexpected encounter.

We don’t know anythin’ about his spell, Curtis thought. I doubt he’s really alone, either. Armani was the least experienced of the five and Angel Eyes had us on the ropes before suddenly changin’ his mind. There’s no way we can beat anyone stronger than them. Not right now.

Cobra studied Curtis and Sly. He knew they were afraid, but he also knew how cunning and slippery they were. He eyed their hands to watch for any sudden draws and made sure to keep an eye out for any tells that Curtis would try to use his spell. His eyes wandered to Virginia, limply slung around Sly’s neck.

She’s from that other group, Cobra pondered. The one the White Snakes reported about. “Who’s she?” he asked, curious about how the outlaws would answer.

“She has nothing to do with any of this,” Sly quickly replied. “She’s innocent. If you arrest, or…kill us…you should just let her go. She doesn’t have a bounty or any record.”

“Y’all knock her out, too?” Cobra questioned.

Curtis and Sly shook their heads in unison.

Cobra hmphed and narrowed his eyes. “Where’s the girl you’re usually with?” he asked. Curtis and Sly seem almost surprised that he knew about Mabel. “She was on the front pages with ya,” Cobra added.

After another moment of silence—a brief one this time—Curtis said, “Whatever yer gonna do to us, just do it. But unless ya can kill us both with one shot, just know things’ll git ugly real quick.”

Cobra exhaled harshly and grinned.

“I don’t need’a fake my confidence in that bet,” he said, “but I won’t spoil the fun just yet. Luckily fer you boys, I happen to have some questions o’ my own I’d like to ask ya, so I ain’t gonna kill y’all yet. I also doubt that we’d git much time to talk if I officially detained y’all, so count yer lucky stars ‘cause I’m lettin’ ya go.”

More shocked silence from the stunned outlaws.

“The Government already knows you’re in the Big City. It didn’t take long fer that to become apparent. I haven’t been given the order to move just yet, but the next time I see y’all, I’ll prolly have t’ take you in by any means necessary.”

Curtis and Sly breathed shakily and heavily. Was it a trick? A trap? What the hell was going on? If their time spent interrogating the former Mystic Program researchers hadn’t felt suspiciously smooth so far, this interaction had to prove that someone was toying with them.

Cobra pressed his thumb onto his revolver’s hammer and pointed the gun at the ground as he removed his finger from the trigger and gently guided the hammer to its resting position. Curtis and Sly took their chance, turning around and rushing back the way they came as quickly as they could with Sly still carrying Virginia. Cobra watched them for the few seconds before they turned the corner, then stood alone in the alley remembering when Armani’s arrest and trial were announced a couple months earlier. He also thought about what Angel Eyes had told him after supposedly “failing” to capture Curtis and his associates.

I’ll find out just what makes them so special, he thought. Fer both o’ ya.

Curtis and Sly ran until they were completely out of breath. When they reached the entertainment district, they strayed away from their hideout and ducked into a nook between buildings to collect themselves and try to calm down.

“What the hell!” Sly shouted. He crouched and rested Virginia on the ground with her back propped up against the wall. “He can’t be serious. He’s messing with us!”

“Relax, Sly,” Curtis said, doing his best to calm his own nerves. “Think. Let’s just think.”

“Why would he let us go? Someone hasto be following us; probably watching us right now. I bet they’re waiting for us to get back to our hideout and ambush us there.”

“I know, I know. Runnin’ around all night won’t do us any good. And we don’t know if the cabin in Peace Meadows is vacant yet. We’d only complicate things further if we go there and drag the rest o’ Minutes ‘til Midnight down with us.”

Sly nodded and took deep breaths, resting his hands on his knees. “So, what, then?”

Curtis thought for another moment, then said, “We do what we did when we first got here. Let’s split up, arrive back to base at different times, and keep an extra watchful eye out fer anyone pursuin’ us. Might not even be a bad idea to take main streets this time. It’s late, but there’ll still be busier areas down here. We can blend in.”

Sly shook his head. “I’ll stick out carrying Virginia. I need to take back streets.”

“Okay. I’ll stay on main roads. If anyone’s after us, they’ll focus on me. You slip away as best you can. I’ll wait another hour before goin’ back to the apartment.”

Sly nodded in approval.

“Also,” Curtis added. “We should consider relocatin’ once we meet with Minutes ‘til Midnight again. I’m sure they’ll have somewhere to put us. If the Government knows we’re here, we need’a stay on the move just to be safe. And, Sly, let’s not tell Virginia anythin’ Howell said.”

Sly nodded again. “Makes sense. Good luck.”

Curtis and Sly bumped fists, then parted ways, taking separate convoluted routes through Big South before returning to their hideout. Sly was relieved to see Firefly unharmed and still stabled in the shed behind the apartment building. He laid Virginia on the large sofa in the living room and waited at the kitchen table with his revolvers drawn for Curtis to return. Around half an hour later, the apartment’s back door creaked open and Sly was relieved to find Curtis standing in the rear hall. Even though he was confident that he wasn’t followed, neither outlaw enjoyed a peaceful night’s sleep as they both anxiously awaited undesired visitors.

***

Virginia awoke with a start, looking around frantically before realizing where she was, then stood from the sofa. Early morning sunlight filtered through the thick, soft curtains above the couch. Virginia’s head rang with sore pain. She paused momentarily before walking into the kitchen where she helped herself to an apple from a basket on the kitchen counter and poured a glass of water from the sink. She plopped back down in the middle of the sofa, then turned around and pulled the curtains open. It must’ve been no later than seven o’clock she guessed then slid open the large window. She finished her apple, core and all (she spat the seeds out the window), then waited around on the couch for Curtis and Sly to wake up.

The trio had been out late last night, so she expected the men to sleep in, but after an hour of lying around without much to do, she decided to walk down the hall to the front of the apartment where the bedrooms were located. Both doors were shut. Virginia pressed her ear against one door and listened; she didn’t use her spell. Silence. She turned around to the other bedroom door on the opposite wall and listened again but still heard nothing. She knocked softly.

“Dawn? Sly?” she asked gently, then again louder after she received no response. She knocked again, too, harder.

Virginia heard a ruckus inside the room before hurried footsteps approached the door which opened only a crack.

“Oh, Virginia,” Sly said and opened the door wider. His hair was messy, and he wore only a pair of soft pajama pants. “Glad to see you’re okay.”

“My head’s killin’ me,” Virginia replied, “but, yeah, otherwise okay.” They stood quietly for moment before Virginia said, “So, I know it’s early, but maybe we should head out soon. The rest o’ my group’s prolly wonderin’ where I’m at, an’ I can show y’all to our new hideout.”

“Yeah, yes. Totally! Let me get ready. Is Dawn awake yet?”

“I haven’t knocked.”

Then, the door on the opposite side of the hall opened slowly and out stepped Curtis fully dressed and rubbing his eyes.

“Oh! Good morning,” Virginia said.

“Mornin’,” Curtis answered groggily.

“We were just talking about heading to meet with everyone else,” Sly said. “All good?

“Yeah,” Curtis responded and walked down the hall toward the kitchen.

A few minutes later, Sly was dressed and ready to go and joined Virginia and Curtis in the living room. Virginia and Curtis sat on opposite sides of the large sofa.

“I’m honestly a little embarrassed that Taylor beat me in a fight,” Virginia admitted.

“Don’t be,” Sly said. “I was impressed with his speed and agility, too. It’s certainly unexpected from a man his age. We got him, though.”

Virginia looked at Sly who leaned on the wall near the back door.

“Did he say anything useful?” Virginia asked.

Sly hesitated, then looked down at his feet and mumbled, “No, unfortunately not.”

Virginia frowned and turned back to Curtis.

“He refused to talk,” Curtis said. “After ‘e knocked you out, he still put up a good fight and called us out on our BS threats. Seems our reputation’s preceding us these days. Plus, there were deputies on patrol nearby, so we couldn’t stay fer long and had no choice but to let ‘im go.”

Virginia nodded and replied, “I figured it wouldn’t take long fer his security to notice his absence. They prolly sent officers to comb the area. But won’t he report y’all? You’re about to have the full might o’ the Government crushin’ down on ya if he tells anyone you’re here.”

“Yeah, most likely,” Sly said from behind Virginia. “He told us that the Government already knows we’re here and seems to know about what happened to Erin Glass and Lennox Sweeney. We were hoping to talk with your group about relocating us.”

Virginia nodded and frowned again.

“It’s a shame all the hard work didn’t amount to anythin’,” Virginia moaned.

Curtis and Sly glanced at each other and sighed.

“But,” Virginia added, “I’m kinda relieved y’all didn’t push harder. You might’ve gotten somethin’ out of ‘im if ya hurt him. Doc would’ve. He goes too far sometimes.”

The image of Erin Glass tied up in a basement flashed in her mind followed by the skin on the old woman’s thin face peeling away before bursting into gray flecks.

“Ain’t our style,” Curtis said and shook his head.

Virginia took a deep breath, then looked at the men and said, “Ready to go? Mabel’s prolly worried ‘bout y’all, too.”

Sly chuckled and replied, “She knows we can take care of ourselves.” He winked and smiled with a twinkle in his pearly whites.

Virginia snickered and moved past Sly, lightly bumping him with her shoulder.

“She really cares about you guys,” Virginia said. “You’re all she ever talks about, and she’s constantly askin’ when we think you’ll come back fer her. She knows ya wouldn’t abandon her. She loves you both. Don’t git too reckless an’ git arrested er anythin’ like that.”

Curtis looked at Sly again, remembering their encounter with Cobra last night.

The trio locked up the apartment and Sly tossed some hay into Firefly’s box before they headed northeast through the crowded streets.

“Our new base is in Big East,” Virginia said. “Won’t take long to git there from here.”

***

Less than an hour later, Virginia announced that they had arrived. Curtis and Sly looked up at the towering building before them. It was five stories high with large, shining windows and a decorative brick façade. The sides of the building were primarily concrete and wood paneling. The men looked at Virginia, confused. She smiled.

“This way,” she chuckled, peaking around the corner before proceeding to the backside of the building where she yanked open a rusted metal door and motioned inside.

They entered a dark hallway of stone bricks. Virginia raised a finger to her lips and directed Curtis and Sly to an opening in one wall with yellow-painted rope stretched across the gap. She ducked under the rope and the boys followed, then they continued down another narrow hallway with unfinished walls which led to a creaky wooden staircase. Curtis and Sly stuck close to one another, on edge in the frightening passages.

Virginia walked along calmly. After going up two flights of stairs, she took the men through another rusty door and once Curtis and Sly walked through, she gently shut the door and flipped an exposed light switch to dimly illuminate the next hall with tiny bulbs strung along the top of the righthand wall.

“We’re almost there,” she said. “And we can talk safely now.”

“Where the hell are we?” Curtis asked.

Sly brushed his shoulder and swatted the air certain he had walked through a spider web. “You guys are the masters of picking creepy spots for hideouts,” he said.

Virginia smirked. “It’s an office building fer some horse wagon manufacturer er somethin’,” she answered as she walked. “This whole section is walled off. It was part o’ some canceled renovation that was going to divide the buildin’ into two so another company could move in, but the contract fell through.

About halfway down the dimly lit hall, Virginia stopped at a fine wooden door. Curtis and Sly heard muffled voices on the other side, but the voices suddenly went quiet when Virginia knocked in a rhythmic pattern. A few seconds later, Mina opened the door and peeked into the hall, then smiled and swung open the door.

“Look who’s back in one piece!” Mina shouted and moved aside so Virginia, Curtis, and Sly could enter, then she shut the door and locked it behind them.

The space—obviously intended to be another office—was split into three rooms separated by finished wooden walls and empty doorframes. The first room was the largest. The room on the left was about half the size, and the floor was covered by several knapsacks and bedrolls. The room on the right was used for storage. A folding table and chairs were in the central room where the rest of Minutes ‘til Midnight and Mabel were hanging out.

Mabel lit up with joy upon seeing Curtis and Sly. “I was scared y’all got caught!” she shouted and raced over to hug her friends.

“Fat chance,” Sly said and squeezed the girl with bearish strength.

Curtis wrapped one arm around Mabel’s shoulders and patted the top of her head. “So excited t’ see us again so soon?” he asked.

“How’d the stakeout go?” Doc asked from across the room. He smiled at Curtis and Sly, ignoring Virginia’s glare.

“Not so good,” Curtis responded. “We caught Howell but had to let ‘im go before gettin’ any real info out of ‘im.”

“Damn,” Doc said frowning and stood from his chair, placing his hands on his hips. “And surely the Government knows ‘bout y’all’s visits to their ex-dogs by now. I should’a come with ya. I’d’ve gotten Taylor to talk.”

Curtis and Sly nodded slowly, thinking about what Virginia said that morning, then joined the group by the table.

“Which is why we hoped you could help us relocate,” Curtis said. “We don’t feel safe stayin’ in one place too long.”

“Makes sense. That shouldn’t be an issue. We can set somethin’ up in a day er two.”

“Thank you,” Curtis sighed with relief. It was sooner than he had expected.

Sly leaned on the doorframe to the makeshift bedroom and Mabel stood beside him. She looked up at the tall ex-ranger with a hopeful expression.

“Once you’re moved, can I finally come back with y’all?” she asked.

“Well,” Sly said and looked at Curtis who simply grinned. Sly looked down at Mabel and answered, “Yeah, that’s the plan.”

Mabel through her arms around Sly’s waist in a tight embrace and shrieked with joy.

“Yes!” she shouted. “And I promise whatever you guys still need to do, I can help! I’ve been practicing with my whip a lot more and learnin’ some quick punches and jabs from Mina. Smiley’s been teachin’ me about different spells and how to combat ‘em; and Trapper’s been showin’ me some o’ his techniques to close a gap with someone in a fight, then how to incorporate my own moves I picked up from the streets; and Rowan’s helpin’ me—”

“Okay, okay,” Curtis laughed. “We’ll be happy to have ya back. We’ve missed ya.”

Mabel sighed and smiled, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Our trio will be back together!” Sly shouted. “Nothing the Government can throw at us will be able to slow us down again. We’ll be unstoppable!”

“Y’all’re crazy,” Curtis groaned.

“And you love it!” Mabel exclaimed.

Curtis grinned, then said, “But not until after we’re in the new place; just in case we’re caught durin’ the move.”

Virginia stepped over to the table and sat down next to Rowan who smiled and rested a hand on Virginia’s to let her know that everything was fine while she was gone.

Virginia then said, “And we should be able to git a new spot fer Esprit, too, right?”

“Yeah,” Doc said, still not looking at her. “We can work it out.”

***

Curtis and Sly spent the rest of the morning and afternoon with Minutes ‘til Midnight, enjoying some of the only real relaxation time they’d had since entering the Big City. Of course, they kept their guards up, still lacking trust in the group, but they felt safe that the Government wouldn’t find them at Minutes ‘til Midnight’s new base, for now at least.

Curtis, Mabel, Sly, Trapper, Smiley, Rowan, and Mina sat around the folding table playing cards and board games while Virginia moved between the storage room and sleeping quarters, organizing her things and cleaning her clothes and gun. Doc stood beside the table, watching the rest of the group play. Sly slammed his palms on the table and cheered, snatching up his game piece and sliding it along the printed path on the board.

“Double sixes, baby!” he hollered and the rest of the table groaned.

“How do you keep doing that?” Trapper asked, examining the dice. “Gotta be rigged.”

Mabel slouched in her chair and crossed her arms, pouting. “Three wins in a row. You’re cheatin’ somehow.”

“I’m just a lucky guy,” Sly said, grinning.

“How about a different game?” Rowan suggested. “We’ve been at this fer hours.”

Mina had already stood and entered the storage room to find another game and walked back into the central room with three boxes stacked in her arms.

Curtis stood slowly and stretched. “I think I need some fresh air,” he said and pushed his chair under the table.

“Oh, come on, Dawn,” Sly groaned. “Don’t be a sore loser.”

“Huh? I’m not,” Curtis answered. “I just wanna move my legs a little.”

“Well, hurry back. You’re the only one getting even close to beating me!”

“Start the next one without me.” Curtis donned his hat and entered the dimly lit hallway.

He made his way to the wooden staircase, then down to the first floor and through the dark passage leading to the back of the building. Curtis stood just outside the rusty door and listened to the mirthful ambience from the surrounding avenues. He adjusted his hat and stuffed his hands into his pockets, then walked south toward Brullan Hill.

He moved quickly through shaded alleys and slowed his pace under lamplight until he reached the quiet neighborhood not far from the center of Big South. It amazed him how well the layers of houses and trees blocked sound from the surrounding urban sprawl and kept Brullan Hill relatively serene and noiseless. The familiar din of nocturnal bugs and the humming streetlamps made him feel more at home than the apartment, almost as much as Midnight’s ranch. He had only returned to Brullan Hill once since first dropping off Esprit and the wagon, and it was only a brief visit to grab supplies and make sure Esprit hadn’t wandered off.

When Curtis lifted the door on Esprit’s side of the shed, everything was just as he had left it last time. Esprit’s ears twitched and she sighed, sending dust from her metallic nostrils. She was like a statue, which is how Curtis imagined she stayed most of the time when no one was around; he couldn’t imagine what else she would be doing and had no idea if she had the capacity to feel boredom.

Whether she had a brain capable of generating any emotions was still a mystery. It was possible that she didhave flesh-and-blood organs inside her, but he doubted it. The way her body groaned and creaked with a hollow howl whenever she exerted herself told him that she was more closely related to a sculpture cast from a mold using molten iron than to a real, living horse. The plates forming her body suggested multiple pieces welded together, but he couldn’t decipher how her seams were thinner than hair and had no visible rivets or welding marks.

She snorted when Curtis rubbed her neck and pet her mane. He retrieved her brush from the wagon in the other compartment next door and began combing the bristles across the seams of her impossibly perfect plating. He neglected to light a lantern and instead knelt next to Esprit in the darkness.

With another sigh, Curtis said quietly, “Y’ever wonder where Midnight’s been this whole time while we’ve been adventurin’ ‘cross the valley?”

Esprit remained silent and as still as stone.

“I wonder if he’s heard about me; what he must think. If he remembers me, anyway.”

At that, Esprit snorted and tapped her hooves on the dirty stone floor.

Curtis grinned. It was those kinds of reactions from Esprit that convinced him she understood him, but her usual lack of response made it hard to tell. “You’re right,” he chuckled. “Of course he remembers me. And you, too.”

Curtis’s mind lingered on the thought. What about everyone else Midnight formed a relationship with, even if brief? Were there others who wanted to find him to get answers about their lives and their significance to him? Who else took the initiative to actually search? Surely Minutes ‘til Midnight weren’t the only ones.

He stood and brushed the seams along Esprit’s neck and back.

Who else have you influenced? He thought. Who else is out there makin’ bad decisions because you bonded with ‘em then suddenly disappeared? Do ya even care?

He didn’t want to think of how many may have already been caught by the Government for having even a slight connection to the black-clad maverick. Curtis examined Esprit in the moonlight leaking in from the windows. The magnificent sheen of her steel coat never failed to mesmerize him. He ceased brushing and moved his hand across her body and up her neck.

How many others did Midnight take in? Was he as kind to ‘em? Four years I was with him. Of all his adopted children, proteges, helpers, whatever he considered ‘em, not many could’ve been with ‘im that long. Am I just that special?

Curtis estimated Midnight to be in his mid-to-late 60s. He already looked aged by the time he brought Curtis to the ranch, though his pale skin helped hide wrinkles and other imperfections that came with old age. Then, another thought flashed in Curtis’s mind.

Unless he’s been ‘round much longer than I think., he thought. There’s no way… Could Midnight and Immortal be the same person?

He laughed out loud at the idea. He moved around Esprit and brushed the other side of her neck, then knelt again to finish scrubbing her belly.

But then again… Just maybe…

Curtis remembered what Sweeney and Howell mentioned about the intentional spread of misinformation within all levels of the Mystic Program’s staff. Perhaps that practice was employed elsewhere in the Government, maybe even among the upper echelon of agents just below the highest officials. He didn’t like the non-zero chance that Midnight and Immortal were really one and the same, despite the former Mystic Program staff using the names in reference to separate individuals. To Curtis, anything was possible at that point.

Curtis brushed a few more specks of dust from Esprit’s hind legs, then beat the brush on the bottom of his boot and returned it to the wagon.

“Sorry fer not comin’ to visit ya more,” he apologized upon coming back to Esprit and petting her face again. “It’s mighty convenient that ya don’t eat. I hope ya don’t git bored.”

Curtis held Esprit’s head in his hands and stared into her dark, glossy eyes. They were still as cold and barren as always, yet there was somehow a warmth, a deepness, a soul within them. They were living eyes, that much was certain.

“I just wish I knew…well, I wish I knew a lot o’ things. Maybe I ought’a git my fortune read. Preferably by someone whose fortunes don’t end in bizarre, dusty deaths.”

The idea was already planted in his mind, however.

Fortuna. She must be the one who read Erin Glass and Lennox Sweeney’s fortunes. But are the deaths part of a separate spell that was timed along with the fortunes? Was each death’s timing exact? Can they be set on a timer? How far into the future could they be set?

There were just too many factors. Curtis rubbed his head and leaned on Esprit. He couldn’t think of a better explanation.

The fortunes and deaths must be directly related, both part of Fortuna’s spell.

But that led to more questions. What determines the length of time between the fortune and death? Can she read her own fortune? Can the foreseen events be altered or prevented?

Curtis took a deep breath and quieted his thoughts. It was no use trying to solve the mystery on his own. Seeking out Fortuna again might be the best thing to do, like Minutes ‘til Midnight had suggested, but it would be dangerous. He wrapped his arms around Esprit’s neck and hugged his metallic steed for a full minute, then drew away and stood by the door. He smiled before opening it and stepping into the night air. Cricket chirps flooded his ears.

“We’ll find a new place to stash ya soon,” he said over his shoulder. “I promise I’ll visit more often once we relocate even if it’s farther away this time. I’ll bring Mabel, too. I know ya like her. Sly an’ Firefly, too, maybe.”

He turned around and pulled the door down slightly, but before completely shutting it he looked at Esprit one more time.

“Probably won’t be here much longer. I can feel it. We’re close to what we need.” The next move is crucial, but it needs to be the right one, Curtis thought.

Curtis quietly lowered the door to the ground. He stood in the yard by himself for a few minutes, taking in the gentle night, then walked through the overgrown grass and onto the hushed street to make his way back to the parading crowds of Big South proper. Unbeknownst to him, a pale-skinned shadow waited and watched him at the entrance of Brullan Hill.

Curtis stuck to the less crowded avenues as he walked the border of Big South and Big East. A loud ruckus of banging, tapping and clapping accompanied by twangy strumming caught his attention and led him to a gathering mob encircling a street band. Three raggedy men sat on small crates. One had a makeshift drum set made of buckets and jugs of various shapes and sizes. Another had a dingy banjo and foot tambourine. The third held a washboard which he rubbed with a thick-bristled brush. Individually, the sounds would’ve been atrocious, but the harmony of all three players made a pleasant sound. The audience loved it, tossing pennies and dimes by the musicians’ feet and hollering like they were at an actual concert.

Curtis moved on, less afraid of being recognized now but still watching out for deputies or rangers. There was something truly magical about a place like the Big City, he thought. Nowhere else in the Valley Strip would you find such a variety of people doing whatever their hearts desired. There seemed to be no fear of major crime, no worry about who would walk into your business and whether they meant harm, no concern over the politics of rangers versus outlaws and who might get caught up in the gunfights. Curtis saw why Midnight liked it here.

I wonder if he’s here somewhere now. I bet she could tell me.He thought of the Fortune teller, then chuckled at the idea. If I did git my fortune read, there’s no guarantee Midnight would be in it. It’d be a death sentence with a low chance for reward.

He stopped in front of a theater. Black and white movie posters were displayed in the large front windows. A huge, flashy sign above the entrance listed half a dozen talkies being shown. It was tempting, but Curtis turned away. The air outside was warm. Big South was so different than in his memories. Half a decade ago, he was starving and huddled in a corner along some street, shivering in the cold of winter. Now he saw the Big City how everyone else saw it: as a hub for riches, fame, and pleasure; the forefront of technology and business. It was the very lifeblood of the Valley Strip and the Ridge.

“Did ya hear?” a young woman shouted across the street. She approached her friend with excitement and grabbed the other woman’s shoulders. “There’s a big fight farther south! Sounds like some rangers are takin’ on an outlaw with some crazy power. The news said the outlaw can move around in the blink of an eye.”

“Woah, that is crazy,” the friend laughed. “I’ve heard about people like that but never seen one in action; not even a doyen.”

“Now could be our chance! Wanna go check it out?”

The friend giggled nervously. “I don’t know about that…”

“The outlaw’s unarmed so the rangers haven’t used deadly force, but they just can’t pin ‘im down so he’s been tons of trouble already. The fight’s crossed seven blocks!”

Their voices faded around a corner and Curtis couldn’t help but snicker. It seemed the Big City did have outlaws to worry about after all. With such a high concentration of law enforcement, openly fighting was idiotic, Curtis thought. Even sneaking around like he and Sly were doing was risky. But he wasn’t surprised that incidents happened occasionally. The girls’ attitudes were what took him by surprise. They spoke of it like a spectacle to behold rather than a dangerous scenario to be afraid of.

I guess if it doesn’t happen that often, people will be more curious than frightened.

Along the same sidewalk as the theater, Curtis saw various stores displaying games, clothing, appliances, and electronics in their windows. He browsed the collections and thought of Mabel. A gift might make up for making her stay with Minutes ‘til Midnight for so long.

I’m startin’ to sound like Sly, he thought. But he does make a good point sometimes. It’d be a nice thing to do. The price tags on the latest fashions made him shiver. He glanced at a radio in the next window and his shoulders dropped. Maybe when we have more liquid funds.

He stretched and turned a corner to head back to Big East. He had been gone for a while now and knew the others would be worried.

“Money’s tight livin’ as an outlaw,” said a raspy, masculine voice. It came from a cramped alley behind the electronics shop. “Ain’t that right, son?”

“What?” Curtis said almost instinctively. He didn’t mean to engage in a conversation.

The alley was dark. There were no balconies with lanterns to light the shadows and none of the streetlamps were positioned at an angle to share their glow with the confined space.

Whoever had spoken blended in with the darkness flawlessly. Curtis’s fingers tingled and he resisted the urge to draw his revolvers until the mystery man took one step forward. Some light reflected off his black clothes and belt. Curtis caught the glint of metal from a holster barely exposed under the man’s long, black coat. The hair on Curtis’s neck stood on end and he reached behind his back, grabbing hold of his revolvers’ handles under his shirt, then stopped.

In the tiny bit of light, something metal twinkled from the man’s neck hanging on a silver chain. Curtis eyed the little heart-shaped pendant resting against the man’s chest over his black shirt. It looked just like one of the necklaces Armani wore. The stranger stepped forward again and Curtis finally saw a glimpse of his face: pale, tired, old, with a patchy white beard. The stranger’s eyes were what immediately held Curtis’s attention. They glistened with yellow, orange, and brown like two pieces of amber embedded in the man’s skull.

The whole scene happened within seconds, and it was then, upon seeing the man’s eyes, that Curtis realized he was no stranger at all. Midnight stood in the shaded alley mere feet away from him. He looked different from when Curtis last saw him, but just as the old outlaw had said years ago, his eyes were unmistakable. His skin was pale, and his eyes were kind if not difficult to read; those features were recognizable, but the structure of his face was different.

His nose, cheekbones, brow, forehead, lips, jaw, and ears weren’t the same as in Curtis’s memories, but not in the way that someone’s appearance naturally changes over time. It wasn’t the fault of Curtis’s imperfect memories, either. The face he was looking at was not the face of the Midnight he had known almost two years ago. It was someone else’s face entirely.

This must be his spell, Curtis thought. How or why it worked, he was unsure, but this man was undeniably the same one that took Curtis under his wing five-and-a-half years ago. Did Midnight’s spell also make it possible for Curtis to recognize him behind this mask, or was there just something so distinct about Midnight that Curtis could pick him out immediately?

Curtis’s heart raced, his breathing was shallow, and his arms and legs felt heavy. A strange sensation came over him; a combination of a serene calmness like a tired boy lying on the grass on a ranch in the middle of spring mashing with the frantic anxiety of someone knowing they are faced with a fleeting final moment. Midnight’s quiet, gentle voice broke through the ringing in Curtis’s ears.

“Listen to me, son,” the old outlaw said. “We don’t have much time.”

What Midnight said next was muffled in Curtis’s ears and he only made out part of it before tuning back in.

“You need’a take that cursed horse an’ leave the Big City now before—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Curtis interrupted and raised his hands in front of him. “Where the hell’ve you been? Where’d ya go? Why’d ya leave without sayin’ anythin’?”

Midnight sighed and looked up and down the road. There were only a few other people walking along the sidewalk. No law enforcement in sight; just drunks.

“I’ll explain everythin’ in due time, but right now we must act quickly. Where’s the steel horse ya took from my barn?” Midnight asked. “It’s still in yer possession, right, boy?” 

Curtis exhaled harshly. “Why’d ya say that like I stole it? Yes, I have it. She’s safe.”

“I know ya didn’t steal it,” Midnight replied. “You got the note I left, yes?”

“It hardly explained anythin’. Actually, it explained nothing! I thought maybe the horse would hold some clue about where ya went er why ya left, but it only confused me more.”

“It was foolish of me, really. I panicked. I never should’ve left it with you er told ya to take it. I hadn’t any other idea what to do at the time.”

“The hell is wrong with you!” Curtis shouted.

A few people across the road looked at them, but there were no rangers. Midnight stared at Curtis’s face from the shadow of his hat. Curtis was frustrated and frantic; Midnight was sorry and somewhat annoyed. Both men were exhausted. Then, Curtis lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Midnight in a tight hug, pressing his face into the old man’s shoulder. He held back tears but sniffled into Midnight’s coat. The smell reminded Curtis of life on the ranch.

“I’ve been lookin’ fer you this whole time,” Curtis whimpered. “First in the Southern Slick, then the Mesa Frontier. It’s been so long. Now I’ve finally found ya.”

“Yes, my boy,” Midnight whispered. “You’ve found me, but that may not be such a good thing. Come. We need to move.”

Midnight pulled away from Curtis and dragged him into the thin alley.

“Where’s the horse?”

Curtis cleared his throat and sniffled again, then answered, “Big South, eastside. There’s a neighborhood called Brullan Hill. One street has some abandoned houses. The horse an’ our wagon’s tucked in a double shed behind one o’ the rundown homes.”

“Damn,” Midnight hissed. “I should’a known that’s what you were doin’ there. You need’a go back there right now. Take the horse and leave the Big City immediately.”

“Why? What’s goin’ on? Will you come?”

“No. I still have business here that can’t wait.”

Curtis huffed and folded his arms. “Same ol’ Midnight, aren’t ya? Am I gonna git a similar vagueness to every question I ask?”

Midnight sighed, clenching his jaw. “You’ve gotta listen, boy. We’ve no time fer games.”

“I ain’t playin’,” Curtis argued. “The first thing ya do after all this time is bark orders?”

“You’re actin’ like a disobedient brat. You’re a full fledge outlaw now, ain’t ya? Act like it. This ain’t no place fer you. Leave. Ya shouldn’t need convincin’.”

“Leave without explanation, huh?”

Midnight inhaled slowly and pressed his lips together tightly, then relaxed his face and said, “People come an’ go in life all the time. Even more so fer outlaws. We don’t often make friends, much less git to keep ‘em.”

Curtis furrowed his brow but said nothing.

“I didn’t want to leave if that’s what you wanna hear,” Midnight uttered wearily. “I won’t be here much longer either. If either of us stay, we’ll both be worse off for it, so just shut up and do as I say!”

A stunned pause.

“Fer old time’s sake,” Midnight pleaded.

Curtis unfolded his arms and released a heavy sigh. “Fine,” he mumbled.

Midnight exhaled, relieved.

“But under one condition,” Curtis added. “This time, ya tell me where exactly to find you next and ya promise that we’ll have time to talk. ‘Bout everything.”

Midnight sighed once more. “Okay,” he said begrudgingly. “The Government knows you’re here. In the Big City, I mean.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You know?” Midnight was perplexed. “Then why the hell’re you still here?”

“I’ve been tryna gather info to find you!”

Midnight shrugged. “You always were a stubborn one. Even so, the Big City is the last place y’ought to be. It ain’t safe.”

“Is anywhere at this point?”

“Especially not here.”

A silent half-minute passed between the outlaws. Down the road, shouts of drunken merriment reminded them both that they weren’t in a very secluded area, but to Curtis that didn’t matter. Midnight glanced around, spotting only a couple people moving about along the side of the road. Still nobody worth his concern.

Midnight scratched the side of his face and said, “I suppose things would’ve been much easier if ya hadn’t taken the horse. I realize it’s partly my fault. I should’ve taken it with me instead. Maybe then you’d’ve just moved on. I wish I could’ve moved on, too.”

Curtis scoffed, a bit hurt by Midnight’s last statement.

“Regardless,” Midnight said. “What’s done is done. All I need from ya now is to take that horse and leave the Big City.”

Distant shouts caught Midnight’s attention. Curtis was still focused on Midnight who backed a little farther into the shadowy alley, but Curtis was undeterred despite a few frantic civilians now running down the street.

“Listen to me,” Midnight said. “I can’t stay, but if ya won’t leave tonight, then before you leave, I’ll explain everything I can about the horse and its role in this whole mess. Hopefully then you’ll git the picture an’ perhaps we can work together.”

“Work together?” Curtis asked, confused. “To what end?”

“To take down our corrupt Government, of course. Stop ‘em from artificially creatin’ more spells.”

Midnight said it so matter-of-factly as if Curtis would immediately comprehend the plan.

“I ain’t lookin’ to destroy the whole system or end the age of rangers,” Midnight explained further. “I just wanna stop anyone from messin’ around with forces they don’t completely understand.”

Midnight noticed Curtis’s bewildered expression.

“Ain’t that what you’re after, too?” Midnight asked.

“I—I don’t…” Curtis stammered and trailed off. He was lost in thought. Is that what he wanted? Was that the reason he spent so much time fighting against the Government and its agents, or was he simply executing actions of self-defense? He spoke slowly. “All I’ve wanted is answers to the questions I’ve had fer years.”

Midnight drew in a slow, deep breath for several seconds, then exhaled just as slowly.

“I see,” he whispered. “Of course. Never mind what I said fer now. I would’ve expected our goals to be more aligned.”

Midnight turned as if to walk farther into the alley.

“Wait,” Curtis said, taking a step forward. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t help.”

Midnight twisted his neck and looked at Curtis over his shoulder. His black hat was low over his kind eyes so Curtis could only make out his pale nose in the shadow of night.

“The first thing you must do is take the horse and leave the Big City,” Midnight responded. “I’ll find ya later and can take it off yer hands, answer yer questions, and if we think it best, part ways afterward.”

Curtis swallowed and hesitated, then stammered, “Th—that ain’t what I want, either.”

Midnight was silent for a moment before replying, “I’m sorry, Curtis, but we can’t just live as a happy family. That ain’t how any o’ this works.”

Midnight took another step into the sheer line of darkness cast into the alley by the corner of the electronics store. Still peering over his shoulder, he glanced up the road after hearing more cries from panicked people nearby.

Several streets over, the pursuit of a powerful outlaw was moving much more quickly now. Those interested in catching a glimpse of talented rangers in action were now either running in fear of the havoc the outlaw caused or only caught a glimpse before the chase moved to another area of Big South. The outlaw now led the rangers almost to the boarder with Big East.

Three rangers pursued the outlaw, all members of the Scale Corps led by the doyen Cobra. The ranger in front was Logan “Hopalong” York. He aimed his six-shot revolver at the ground as he sprinted along the sidewalk shouting orders at the other two rangers in tow. Effie “Ms. Elegant” Cain and Clayton “Wolf” Flynn slowed to a stop and rested their hands on their knees to catch their breaths. They each heaved heavy sighs and grabbed their chests to alleviate the pain behind their ribs. They had all been running for at least an hour.

“No time to stop,” Hopalong barked. “Come on! He went this way!”

Hopalong wore typical ranger garb with a button-down shirt and poncho, along with his armband which was wrapped snuggly around his right bicep. Over his pants he also sported a pair of complex leg braces wrapping around his hips and bending with his knees, hugging his legs tightly down to his ankles. His movement was unimpaired, however, and it was obvious that they were no ordinary braces. With a wave of his hand, Hopalong turned a corner and continued his pursuit at a full sprint. His stride was longer than even professional runners.

Wolf tugged at his shirt collar, still breathing heavily, and shouted “You try havin’ yer chest blown through by a bolt of lightnin’ an’ see how well yer lungs hold up!”

Ms. Elegant tied up her short hair and stood straight with her hands on her hips. She looked at Wolf and winked, then the two of them took a final deep breath together before chasing after Hopalong.

“Anyone notice a pattern in his movements yet?” Ms. Elegant asked once she and Wolf caught up to Hopalong who was standing in the middle of an intersection, scanning the surrounding area with intense focus.

“Not yet,” Hopalong groaned.

“There must be some limit to his spell we can exploit,” Wolf said, standing in the road and looking out for the outlaw.

“Just keep an eye out for any hint of how it works,” Hopalong said.

Then, a shrill man’s voice came from atop a two-story building on the corner of the intersection.

“Blah, blah, blah!” the outlaw whined.

“Blinksy!” Hopalong shouted and aimed his revolvers up at the outlaw.

Blinksy sneered down at the rangers. His tanned face was blemished by a white scar that started at the corner of his left brow and followed a jagged path down to the corner of his mouth. His long, dusty, grayish hair was tied into a ponytail, and he jutted his pointy chin out as he grinned, showing off the pearly whites of his underbite. He also held a hefty green, glass bottle in his right hand with a flaming cloth hanging out of the bottle’s broken neck.

“This is yer final warning, Blinksy!” Hopalong howled and cocked his revolver’s hammer. “Put the bottle down and come down here!”

“Bite me!” Blinksy replied harshly. He spoke like a typical gangster goon from a movie.

Blinksy tossed the bottle high into the air and before the glass shattered on the pavement below, spreading flames in a wide burst, Blinksy disappeared with no more than a blip of blue light. The blip lasted only a fraction of a second and looked like a large flash then shrunk to a dot where he was previously standing. Then, the outlaw appeared somewhere else.

The rangers turned to the other side of the intersection when they heard Blinksy grunting as he twirled his arms and threw loose chunks of asphalt from the road through several large windows on the fronts of adjacent buildings. Hopalong twisted around and aimed his revolver at Blinksy, but before he pulled the trigger, the outlaw was gone with another blue blip.

“Careful!” Wolf shouted. “Shooting here ain’t safe, and he’s still unarmed.”

“I know,” Hopalong replied. “I should’a known my threat wouldn’t work. He’d probably be able to teleport out of the way of the bullet anyway.”

“Ya call flaming wine bottles and rocks unarmed?” Ms. Elegant protested.

“No,” Hopalong answered. “But we’d still look bad fer just killin’ him out right. I just wish we could figure out his goal here. Why’s he even doin’ this?”

The trio heard more ruckus another street over and chased the sound of chaos.

“He’s probably insane,” Ms. Elegant stated bluntly through strained breaths as she ran. “With everythin’ this guy’s pinned for, why else would ‘e come out o’ hiding?”

The streetlights along both sides of the road suddenly burst, cloaking the rangers and the surrounding blocks in darkness.

“Now what?” Hopalong moaned. We can barely keep up, he thought. We’ve had no time to evacuate civilians. Luckily Blinksy hasn’t targeted anyone.

Wolf, Ms. Elegant, and Hopalong halted their pursuit, and each readied their weapons. The lack of drunken night owls on the streets of Big South produced an eerie silence which was only filled by the distant crackling of fires being fended off too late and screams of innocent civilians confused and afraid of the chaos. It wasn’t city-wide, but the path of disorder left in Blinksy’s wake was far more than the trio of rangers bargained for when they were called to detain a rowdy spellcasting outlaw, members of a doyen’s group or not.

The hairs on Wolf’s neck stiffen as Blinksy appeared behind him, hidden by the darkness. Wolf reacted quickly, however, and swung his arm around to hit the side of Blinksy’s head. Blinksy ducked and kicked the back of Wolf’s knees, causing the ranger to double over.

“Gotcha!” Blinksy said, laughing hysterically, then disappeared again.

Wolf sprang up again and looked all around the darkened street.

“Ya think that’s funny?” he yelled. “You’re done for, Blinksy!”

***

Curtis’s head spun and he looked up the road toward the source of the commotion. He could see the glow of fire just a couple of streets over. The flood of frightened pedestrians and a few rushed horse carriages and speeding cars finally set off his inner alarm bells.

“Curtis,” Midnight said, demanding his attention back to the dark alley into which Midnight had almost completely disappeared. “Ya must determine exactly what ya want. The path you’re on is too dangerous to tread with no defined destination. How the rest o’ yer adventure goes depends on yer choice. Either way, you an’ the horse need’a leave soon.”

Curtis stared into the darkness and clenched his fists. He could only see a dim reflection of the streetlights on the heart-shaped pendant around Midnight’s neck; the rest of the man was consumed by shadows.

“Help you stop the mystics,” Curtis said, his voice and hands shaking, “Or leave everythin’ behind to hide an’ live a semi-normal life. That’s it?”

Midnight nodded, though Curtis couldn’t tell.

Again, the shouts and cries of panicked people escaping the path of Blinksy’s destruction were drowned out in Curtis’s mind by the whirling winds of his own indecision.

***

The Scale Corps rangers turned the corner onto the street Curtis was next to, following Blinksy as he teleported short distances to kick open doors and smash through windows, seemingly with no end goal in mind. The outlaw then teleported onto the front of a fleeing horse-drawn wagon and yanked the reins from the driver’s hands. Blinksy kicked the finely dressed man down, so his head was hanging over the edge of the bench, then tugged the reigns hard and forced the frantic horse to veer right. Blinksy teleported away before the wagon crashed.

“Look out!” Midnight shouted.

Curtis turned too late to notice the horse and wagon barreling toward him. Midnight shoved Curtis aside just in time as the horse and wagon smashed into the side of the electronics store. The next thing Curtis knew, he was on the ground. He heard even more screams, people shouting names and commands, the crackling of more fire now spreading to this road.

Looking up, Curtis saw that the horse had managed to skid along the pavement and avoid being crushed between the wagon and the store’s brick wall, but the horse was now pinned to the ground by the driver’s bench which had broken off the front of the wagon. The wagon itself was toppled on its side and had shattered the store’s large front windows and glass door. Curtis couldn’t see the driver but assumed he must have flown off the bench and was perhaps inside the store now, undoubtedly unconscious and possibly trapped. Flames slowly spread to the wagon and storefront. The horse brayed and flailed about but couldn’t free itself from under the bench.

Curtis scrambled to his feet and noticed that the alley was completely blocked now. The encroaching flames illuminated the alley just slightly and Curtis saw Midnight still standing there, now looking a bit panicked. Midnight spoke first.

“Listen to me,” he said. “This ain’t the end fer us, Dawn. I wish we had more time, but things are too crazy now.” Curtis opened his mouth to speak, but Midnight continued. “Meet at the edge of the district tomorrow night when the moon is at 30-degrees.”

There was so much Curtis wanted to shout, but instead he simply asked, “Where?”

“Old Castle Way. One o’ the only lone roads outta the Big City. It’s dark; quiet.”

“How can ya be sure this ain’t the last time we’ll meet?” Curtis pleaded.

“We’ll meet again,” Midnight said quietly. Curtis swore he saw a slight grin from the mysterious outlaw, too. “Fate wills it at least once more.”

What? Curtis thought. No, he couldn’t have. He wouldn’t have.

“Bring the horse,” Midnight added.

“It has a name,” Curtis replied, focusing up and finding his firmness again. He also felt the walls closing around him. He knew he had to leave right away.

Midnight hesitated for a moment, his grin dropping to a frown. How does ‘e know its name? he thought.

“We’ve named ‘er Esprit,” Curtis said. “She’s one of us now.”

Midnight grinned again which then widened to a proper smile. “Decide what you really want before tomorrow. That’ll determine everything.”

Curtis wanted to say more. He needed to say more. In the blink of an eye, as a flame licked the corner of the storefront and shadows danced in the alley, Midnight vanished.

“Over there!” a voice exclaimed.

Curtis glanced over his shoulder and saw people gathering in the street. It was several rangers, more than just Wolf, Ms. Elegant, and Hopalong. Others had arrived and joined the chase. Their faces were hard to make out in the mixture of light and shadows swirling around from the fire and streetlights and the lamps the other rangers had brought, but he could see them looking vaguely in his direction.

“You four,” Hopalong commanded. “There was a driver on that wagon. Make sure he’s safe and git the wagon away from the fire. You three scout ahead an’ focus on escortin’ civilians out of Blinksy’s path.”

Hopalong then turned to Wolf and Ms. Elegant.

“As fer us, we need to stop Blinksy now. Screw public perception. Use lethal force if we have to but be extra mindful. Don’t shoot unless you’re absolutely sure you’ll hit yer mark.”

Curtis examined the broken wagon blocking the alley and spotted an opening he could vault over, so he swiftly ran and swung his legs over some protruding wooden posts from the bottom of the wagon, landing low on the other side in the shaded alley. He sprang up and ran without turning back to see the rangers rescuing the wagon driver along with the horse. They either ignored his escape in favor of saving lives, or hadn’t recognized or even noticed him at all, but that didn’t matter. He needed to get back to Big East and plan. He had less than 24 hours to determine what could turn out to be the trajectory of the rest of his life.

***

Back in the street, Wolf, Ms. Elegant, and Hopalong discussed strategy to stop Blinksy but were interrupted by the outlaw’s snarky tone.

“You know what,” Blinksy said. He appeared in a flash on the roof of a low building and knelt on the edge, resting his arms on his knees and sneering at the rangers below. “I’m bored o’ this senseless violence. I’ll play with y’all now!”

“Oh, great,” Ms. Elegant groaned.

“Get ready,” Hopalong said and held the grip of his revolver tightly.

Blinksy snickered, then disappeared with a quick blip of light. The rangers braced themselves and whipped their heads back and forth to watch where Blinksy would reappear. Hopalong bent his knees and spread his feet apart like a racer preparing at the starting line.

The outlaw was incredibly fast. He appeared behind Wolf and jabbed the ranger’s lower back. Hopalong saw him right away and released the stored tension in the joints of his mechanical leg enhancements. With an instantaneous boost, Hopalong leapt forward, his enhancements acting as springs and launching him straight ahead at a high velocity. Blinksy was quicker, though, and blinked away before Hopalong could grab him.

“Missed me,” Blinksy said as he appeared beside Ms. Elegant and struck her side with his fist, cutting up under her ribs before disappearing again before Wolf and Hopalong even had eyes on him. Several more blows were struck on the rangers before they could react. Wolf yelled and threw his arms around, frustrated.

Meanwhile, Curtis snuck away from the scene. Gotta be careful of all the rangers running around, he thought.

“Dawn!” a man shouted.

Curtis froze.

Luckily it was just Sly. He was racing through the narrow alleys toward Curtis. He held his hat in his hand, and his hair was messy and sweaty. A couple short strands were stuck to his forehead. He stopped in front of Curtis and placed his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

“Sly?” Curtis blurted. “What’re you doin’ here? And don’t shout my name like that. There’s a ton o’ rangers around who might recognize us.”

Sly breathed heavily and looked up at Curtis. “I wouldn’t worry,” he said. “There’s way too much noise for anyone to hear us back here.”

The screams of terrified civilians, the thunderous roar of fire, and a gunshot echoed into the smoky air. It sounded like all-out pandemonium had broken out in Big South. Curtis had honestly lost track of his path and wasn’t sure exactly where he and Sly were now; Big East was his best guess, but nothing more precise.

“But what are you doing here?” Sly retorted. “Why’d you go sneaking around without telling anyone?”

Curtis frowned. “Just wanted some fresh air,” he replied quietly.

Sly gave a half-frown. “Okay. Whatever. This isn’t a good place to be right now.”

“Yeah, I know,” Curtis said.

“Come on. This way.”

The two men quickly and quietly dashed across short intersections and peered around corners to make sure the coast was clear before traversing larger expanses of open roads.

Curtis glanced over his shoulder as they vacated the danger zone close to the fight between Blinksy and the Scale Corps rangers and caught a glimpse of the action.

“Hey,” Curtis called.

Sly stopped and looked behind him, as well. Curtis was pointing at the fight and Sly recognized Wolf and Ms. Elegant from the bank in Proudkeep.

“No way,” Sly gasped. “I’m glad they survived after what happened with Zapper!”

“No way Minutes ‘til Midnight had anythin’ to do with that, right?” Curtis asked and Sly shrugged.

They watched for just a moment longer and Sly quickly spotted Hopalong, too.

“Wait a sec,” he said. “That other guy’s part of the Scale Corps; Cobra’s ranger group!”

“Damn,” Curtis hissed. A chill went down his spine. “Ya think Cobra’s nearby?”

“Oh crap, you’re right!” Sly squealed. “Let’s go!”

Curtis and Sly moved swiftly away from the scene knowing what would happen if they encountered Cobra again, but Curtis couldn’t help smirking to himself as he chased after Sly back toward Minutes ‘til Midnight’s hideout.

Wolf an’ Effie’re part of a doyen’s team now? Curtis wondered. Grover Flynn would be proud of his brother.

Blinksy repeatedly punched, kicked, and jabbed Wolf, Ms. Elegant, and Hopalong. He was too quick to catch before he blinked away again. Hopalong sprung at the outlaw whenever he saw the opportunity, but grabbing Blinksy seemed futile. Wolf had already fired one of his flintlock pistols and missed, and Blinksy wasn’t granting him any time to reload. He had a second flintlock loaded and ready to go, but he couldn’t get a clear shot. None of them could. They all did their best to block incoming strikes, but Blinksy was wearing them down.

Hopalong focused intently. There had to be some weakness they could exploit; prevent him from using his spell or confine him to a smaller area. The brief pauses between attacks lasted only a few seconds and shouting across the street to each other wasn’t an ideal way for the rangers to strategize. Concentration was also difficult when Blinksy hooted, howled, and laughed every time he reappeared.

“I think I got it!” Ms. Elegant finally shouted. “His hands. Watch!”

Blinksy reappeared and spun around Wolf and jammed his fist into the ranger’s stomach. Hopalong observed closely, then Blinksy vanished.

Wait, Hopalong thought. Was that it?

He had seen something, but he wasn’t sure. It looked like Blinksy might have flicked his wrist before teleporting. Did that mean something? Hopalong paid close attention to Blinksy’s wrist the next few times he disappeared. It was still difficult to notice when the outlaw used his spell so rapidly, but he was sure he saw it after a couple more times. Blinksy was definitely flicking his wrist, and it looked like he was tossing something at the same time.

Blinksy appeared behind Hopalong and kicked the backs of his legs, then blinked away. Hopalong fell to his knees, but he kept his eyes up and his ears open. Then he heard it. Every time Hopalong flicked his wrist, a couple seconds later before he disappeared, he heard a tiny clacking sound like a pebble skittering across the pavement.

Is it really that simple? Hopalong thought. He was unsure if Ms. Elegant or Wolf had figured it out yet. The former was at least on the right track.

Suddenly, the streetlights around the rangers burst and covered the road in complete darkness again. Before the lights went out, however, Hopalong confirmed the trick. Blinksy was tossing tiny black stones on the ground before teleporting and wherever he tossed the stones, that’s where he teleported to next. The stones were nearly impossible to see at night, which explained why Blinksy kept destroying the lights.

Hopalong looked at Ms. Elegant again who returned his gaze with an intense stare that indicated she had caught on to the secret. They then looked at Wolf who, by his glances, seemed to be catching on, as well.

Blinksy teleported again behind Wolf and swung his arm wide at Wolf’s head, but before the hit landed, Wolf ducked down. Blinksy’s eyes widened, and he gasped a short breath. Wolf dropped low and swung his leg around to trip Blinksy, but the outlaw was already gone. It was settled, and that brief exchange between Wolf and Blinksy sparked an idea in Hopalong’s mind.

Blinksy appeared next to Ms. Elegant who failed to dodge the blow. Hopalong saw the attack, but instead of springing toward Blinksy, he instead bounded toward Wolf.

“Here’s the plan,” Hopalong said. He spoke quickly to get his thoughts out before Blinksy interrupted them. “Get to Ms. Elegant as soon as you have an opening and when I shout at you, drop to the ground.”

“Huh?” Wolf questioned, but Hopalong already bent his knees and leapt toward Ms. Elegant. Blinksy appeared at the same time and jabbed at the spot that Hopalong had been standing but missed. Wolf immediately lashed out and managed to punch Blinksy’s arm, but the outlaw was gone in the next moment.

Hopalong arrived next to Ms. Elegant and relayed the same instructions to her, then leapt again so the three rangers were in a roughly equal triangle, but that wouldn’t last long. Between all of Blinksy’s attacks, Wolf and Ms. Elegant dashed closer to one another and were soon back-to-back, blocking and dodging Blinksy’s attacks as best as they could. The outlaw still landed more than half of his strikes, but his irritated grunts and shouts exhibited his frustrations.

The three rangers listened for the stones and responded accordingly. They each blocked attacks and retaliated with a punch or jab of their own before Blinksy could teleport away, but shooting him or grappling with him was still a major challenge. Blinksy, although annoyed, still snickered and teased the rangers at every opportunity, provoking careless strikes from them that missed completely and gave him another opening to strike at their hips and legs and backs. Blinksy was teleporting more frequently and his attacks hastened.

Wolf took a chance and, perhaps out of luck, grabbed hold of Blinksy’s sleeve, but the outlaw teleported away before Wolf could do anything else. That was a valuable hint, though, showing that Blinksy didn’t take anyone with him when he teleported; at least not involuntarily. Meanwhile, Hopalong continued chasing after Blinksy whenever possible, charging a leap between attacks and springing forward as he heard the pebbles on the ground in the dark. Only a few minutes had passed since Curtis and Sly ran away and Hopaong felt like he was getting closer every time, but he kept barely missing his tackles. It wouldn’t matter much if he grappled Blinksy anyway since the outlaw could teleport away regardless, but he had another plan.

“Yoo-hoo!” Blinksy shouted and blew a raspberry at Hopalong. He had been teleporting around seemingly at random for the past thirty seconds, continuously evading Hopalong’s leaps, but now he made time to strike again at Wolf and Ms. Elegant, who had long grown tired of the outlaw’s game. In the darkness, it was hard to spot the black pebbles on the ground, but it was also nearly impossible to see the wire Hopalong was leading as he leapt from place to place. The wire was sticky and Hopalong stuck it to different surfaces—lampposts, walls, parked carriages and cars, boxes and barrels, windows, anything he could within reach to create a tangled web of wire strung in a wide area.

The wire was suspended a few feet above the ground and Hopalong was careful not to catch himself on any of it as he hopped around weaving the trap. He had also been picking up the pebbles from the ground as he went. Every time he missed grabbing Blinksy, he swung his arm down and snagged the stone Blinksy had previously tossed. He still wasn’t entirely sure how the spell worked. Could Blinksy teleport to the stones in Hopalong’s pockets? How did Blinksy know where the stones landed in the dark? It was all a mystery, but so far his plan was working.

“Haha! This is fun!” Blinksy cawed as he blinked around in the darkness.

“What’s this guy’s problem?” Wolf whispered.

“I still have no idea what his goal is,” Ms. Elegant stated.

Hopalong remained focused on his task. He listened to the pebbles and grabbed them whenever he could without it being obvious. A few more leaps and he ran out of string. It was time. He listened once more to the tiny clacking of another pebble. Blinksy was going to teleport only a few feet away from Wolf and Ms. Elegant, perhaps for a feint attack.

“Down, now!” Hopalong yelled.

Wolf and Ms. Elegant understood the instructions and threw themselves down onto the pavement. They landed flat on their stomachs, barely bracing their falls with their hands, loose crumbs of asphalt poking their cheeks. At the same time, Hopalong jumped high upward and pressed one of the release buttons on the wire dispenser in his hand. An electrical current instantly flowed through the wire, causing it to constrict and unstick from all surfaces. The web of wire spiraled inward toward a central point as the spool rapidly wound back into the dispenser.

Blinksy then reappeared in the road, missing his feint attack, and realized too late that he was trapped. The retracting wire caught Blinksy in the snag and delivered a powerful zap to the outlaw. The wire snapped into place and curled around his arms and legs and torso like a thin, winding strand of spider silk. Blinksy wasn’t entirely mummified by the wire, but the wrap was enough to prevent him from squirming loose while the charged wire paralyzed him and seemingly prevented him from using his spell just as Hopalong had hoped.

Blinky’s body stiffened, and he plopped to the ground as gracefully as a wooden board. Hopalong landed on his hands and feet less than a second later and Wolf and Ms. Elegant quickly sprang up and moved in on Blinksy. They spotted a couple pebbles he had dropped upon getting shocked and noticed several more spilling from his pockets.

“Yes!” Hopalong cheered and stood with his fist raise victoriously.

“Nice job!” Ms. Elegant complimented after she and Wolf had confiscated the rest of Blinksy’s pebbles. They then untangled Blinksy and placed shackles around his wrists.

The rangers who had come to the Scale Corps’ aid scrambled to put out the fires and ensure that no other civilians were in danger. The sheriff’s department also arrived to transport Blinksy. Before they dragged the dazed outlaw away, Hopalong spoke with Blinksy.

“Gonna be a long night fer you,” Hopalong said to the outlaw. “We’ll have lots o’ questions about that spell o’ yers, and what the hell yer plan was.”

Blinksy tiredly chuckled in response. His feet dragged along the ground as the deputies hoisted him by his underarms.

“I wasn’t sure my trap would work,” Hopalong admitted. “I was a little worried that you were stopping time rather than teleporting. I’ve heard of strong outlaws who can manipulate time somehow. Glad y’aren’t one of ‘em. You’d have run into my wires and noticed the trap I was sewing if that was the case.”

He took a long breath in and looked around at the carnage Blinksy had wreaked as he ran through the city seemingly without any purpose. Even without a destructive spell, Hopalong thought, he still caused so much damage. He exhaled, exhausted.

Wolf stood on Hopalong’s left side, examining one of the little black pebbles. It was a smooth, round stone that shined in the distant fire light.

“I gotta know fer now, at least,” Hopalong continued, “what do little rocks have to do with a teleportation spell?”

Wolf held up the stone with his forefinger and thumb and closed one eye, then looked past the pebbles and focused his gaze on Blinksy.

“Onyx specifically, right?” Wolf asked.

Blinky shrugged, still dangling in the deputies’ grips.

“I dunno, man,” he answered sluggishly. “I didn’t choose my power er how it works. Ya think I’d choose to throw ‘round precious gems if I didn’t have to?”

Ms. Elegant stood on Hopalong’s right. “That’s also a concern of ours,” she moaned. “But we’ll let our boss handle the detailed questioning.”

“Speaking of which,” Hopalong said, looking over his shoulder and spotting a silhouette stepping out from a burning storefront.

Cobra walked out from the fire hunched forward with his arms wrapped around something furry. A muffled bark came from Cobra’s chest and once he was away from the flames, he stood straight and handed a small dog to a deputy who walked the animal over to a crying woman behind the caution line the sheriff’s department had established.

Cobra’s body was smoking. His clothing was burnt with large holes revealing horribly burnt skin underneath. His face was beet red and blistering. He stood tall but his stiff and careful movement revealed that his lack of reaction to the pain was only external. Moments later, an ambulance car screeched to a halt beside Cobra and several paramedics hopped out of the vehicle to begin treating Cobra’s wounds as best as they could. The burns were severe, however, and the doyen soon collapsed to the ground.

“Sir!” Ms. Elegant shouted as she and Wolf ran to Cobra’s side.

Hopalong stayed with the deputies escorting Blinksy to ensure safe transit.

“That’s really bad,” Wolf said upon seeing Cobra’s injuries up close.

“Will he be okay?” Ms. Elegant whimpered to the paramedics.

Cobra coughed and wheezed, then opened his eyes and looked at Wolf and Ms. Elegant. He smiled and his lips cracked while blisters on his cheeks burst. He breathed weakly and the paramedics told him to absolutely stay still while they moved him to a stretcher.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered. The paramedics told him not to speak while they brought him to the car. Wolf and Ms. Elegant followed and Cobra said, “My injuries…never last long.”

The paramedics loaded him into their car and raced off toward the hospital, leaving Ms. Elegant and Wolf behind.

“I don’t think he can use his spell right now,” Hopalong told the deputies as they threw the outlaw into the back of a caged horsedrawn carriage. “I’d still recommend a higher level of security and be sure he doesn’t get his hands on any onyx gems! Or any gemstones to be safe.”

“Yes sir, thank you,” one of the deputies replied.

Once the carriage rode away, Hopalong looked again at the path of destruction Blinksy left behind through Big South, wondering what purpose Blinksy had for the damage and thinking of the various ways he and his partners could have better handled the chase.