Between Raisin' Hell An' Amazin' Grace Pt. 4

Sheriff Richard Calloway saw the small object drop to the ground at the base of the bridge. He had his suspicions what it might be, and then he looked again as he saw the small spark of the wick. “Dynamite!” he shouted and pulled on the reigns of his horse. Several of his men stopped in their tracks in response to his action. Captain Williams did as well, and steered his horse back to Calloway. The look in his eyes was not at all a friendly one.

“What are you doing, Sheriff?” Williams spat, talking to Calloway as one would speak to an unruly child. “We have to continue the chase.”

“With all due respect, Captain,” Calloway sighed with his reply, suddenly annoyed with the attitude this officer was giving him. “Black Mask just tossed a bundle of dynamite on that bridge. I'm not suicidal, and I'm not sacrificing my men.”

“How can you be so certain that Black Mask would take such a measure?” Williams replied, anger evident in his eyes that this sheriff would be so bold as to question him. As though there needed to be a reply to Williams' question, an explosion sounded out, and the bridge quickly became unstable. All the men in the posse looked toward the noise, watching as the bridge didn't explode into a million toothpicks, but began to slide into the river below.

“Does that answer your question for you, Captain?” Calloway snorted.

*****

“Well shit,” Shani huffed as she watched the bridge slip into the river. “Thet weren't near as spectac'lar as I were 'xpectin' it ta be.”

“Effective, nonetheless,” Pania remarked with a shrug. She had to admit, Black Mask had a few tricks up her sleeve. And she'd seen her shoot, she was no slouch with the long barrel Colts she carried. “I take it ye really didna wanna kill any o' those men anyway.”

“What the hell fer?” Shani sighed. “They ain't done nuthin' ta me, they jist doin' their jobs, so I kin unnerstan' they chasin' me. But I'll give 'em a ride ta remember while they doin' it.” Shani leaned back in the saddle, feeling Gipsum shift just a bit. It was the first time in a long morning ride that the horse had an opportunity to rest, and he took advantage of it as he nibbled at some grass that grew along the trail.

Shani and Pania watched the posse across the river, now completely separated from the two elves. But the pale elf realized something. While the posse couldn't get their hands on either one of them, they could still make their lives hell. “Miss Black Mask,” Pania said quietly.

“Shani,” the lithe elf replied, correcting Pania. “Jist call me Shani. B'sides, I always thought Black Mask were a dorky name. I wanted sumthin' more akin ta Wild Bill 'r Sundance 'r sumthin' like thet...”

“Pania,” the pale elf said with a kind smile as she interrupted Shani's speech regarding nicknames. “Pania Alow.” She sighed softly and gazed across the river, taking note of the activity. “We're no' outta the woods yet, so ta speak,” Pania informed the elven gunslinger. “Tha' posse still 'as guns, an' those bullets can still rip 'cross the river.”

Shani's voice fell silent as she gazed across the river. She hadn't been paying attention to the small posse. And now they were moving into position. “Shit,” Shani said quietly. “Shit!”

*****

Captain Williams and the remaining soldiers lined up on the river bank, watching the pair of elves resting leisurely across the river. He was mad as hell, and had completely pushed the thought of his orders to bring Pale Rider to Washington alive. He already had a story cooked up. She attempted escape and was shot and killed. It was the truth, after all. Add Black Mask into the mix, and the story would become more plausible.

Calloway had also gathered the remainder of the posse and joined the soldiers, rifles in hand. “Wound only, men,” he warned. “Neither one of them fired with intent to kill any of us, so we can give them that grace. They'll live long enough to face a judge and jury.”

“Sentence has already been passed,” Williams sneered to Calloway as he spoke. “There's only one thing I want to see these two taken in for, and that's a pine box. Shove 'em both in the same one, save the wood.” He raised his rifle as he barked his orders to his men. “Shoot to kill, men. This is the end of the line for Black Mask and Pale Rider.”

*****

Pania's eyes grew wide as she sat in the saddle just staring, like a deer caught by a hunter. Shani, on the other hand, grimaced as she realized how open and exposed they were. The lithe elf looked to Pania, lashing out with a swat to her shoulder to bring Pania to her senses. “C'mon!” she shouted as she spurred her horse forward. “We gotta git.”

The two elves began the race of their lives, as they encouraged the horses down the trail, trying to outrun the bullets as they ripped through the air. The shots were close, hitting the ground and the nearby trees of the forest. Every so often a small tree they would pass behind would become riddled with bullets from the guns across the river. Shani took a glance at the men, taking note that some had began to keep pace with them across the river, firing wildly. They wouldn't have perfect aim as both their targets were moving and they were also at a full gallop. Difficult to hit a target with a rifle like that.

“Look fer a break in the bloody trees!” Pania called out. “There's gotta be a trail 'eadin' in.”

“Thet's what I'm doin', dangit!” Shani called back. “I ain't no slouch. I'm jist a bit busy tryin' not ta git hit.” Both of them lay low on their horses, flinching every time a rifle report sounded. The horses hooves pounded the dirt path, as they raced faster and faster. They also knew the desperation that they faced, as any one of those bullets could just as easily rip into them. Shani desperately looked across the river as she checked their own position. No break in the trees was visible, nor were they completely safe from the posse. It looked as though they had a clear trail for a good long while. Which meant they could keep firing until they ran out of bullets.

Or they both dropped from the bullets with their names on it.

“Ain't gonna think 'bout thet,” Shani hissed to herself through clenched teeth. She couldn't think about that. She wasn't about to die on some planet far from her home, never to see her family again. She had other ideas.

*****

Calloway raced his horse along the riverbank, slowing only to fire, then continuing the chase. He didn't subscribe to Williams' idea of shoot to kill. After seeing these two and comparing what he'd seen with what he'd read, he began to doubt the rumours that these two were vicious killers like other bounty hunters and lawmen had described. Neither one fired with the intent to kill. Neither one had tried to trap them. Even dynamiting the bridge was an obstacle to aid in their escape. That was all they wanted, to escape and ride on. Calloway was just that close to letting them go. But that would mean Williams would continue on.

The pair of gunslingers had one thing that would save them.

Calloway knew his territory well. And he knew that he had almost run to the county line. After that, he'd be out of his jurisdiction. He pulled hard on the reigns of his horse, bringing it to a complete stop. His men followed suit. They too were aware of how far they'd traveled. Calloway looked to his men, making certain they were all fine. Tired, yes, but they suffered no bullet wounds.

“Sheriff!” an angry shout from Captain Williams sounded. “What the hell do you think you're doing?”

“I know my territory, Captain,” he shouted back, brow furrowed in anger. “You wanna keep ridin' those two ta hell, be my guest. Far as I'm concerned, they've run far 'nough ta live another day. They haven't killed anyone in my town. An' Black Mask only made off with some money. I doubt she cleaned out the bank.”

Williams scowled but didn't argue. Calloway wasn't one of his men, so he couldn't order him without direct orders from the President. And those orders were never given. “We continue the chase, men!” he barked to the tired looking soldiers. “HA! Move out!”

*****

Pania took a chance and peeked across the river. Calloway had stopped, so had Williams. But if she knew the Captain, he'd keep riding. Which meant they still had a long way to go. Her eyes searched the tree line they rode past frantically, there had to be a clear path through and onto freedom. Once there, then another decision must be made. Ride with this seemingly wild, and rather brash young elf, or continue south, onto Shreveport. Perhaps that was where Black Mask was heading. Only time, and the quiet that came with escape would finally tell.

“There!” Pania finally shouted out, pointing toward a small path that lead into the trees. Small enough for one horse and rider to pass through at a time.

“I see it,” Shani replied as she gritted her teeth and pushed forward. Gipsum seemed to read his rider's mind as he bolted for the break, jumping into the small pathway with ease. Only hoof beats behind came Pania. The narrowness of the path would slow them down, but at least they would be free and clear.

*****

Captain Williams pulled tight on the reigns bringing his horse to a sudden stop. His teeth bared as he scowled. Yet again, Pale Rider had slipped through his fingers. He would have to report his failure to Washington. But maybe not just yet.

He studied the river for a moment, deciding the water was too quick to cross, more than likely too deep as well. Caught in the current, it could carry a man for miles, and a horse and rider would surely face death. “Find a way across,” he spat out. “There has to be another bridge along this river. Once we cross, then we continue our search.”

“Captain,” one of his men announced. “What if they back track?”

“They won't,” he seemed to growl. “They already destroyed the bridge.” He looked over his men and pointed one out. “Go to Harrisburg and get a message to Washington. Let them know that Pale Rider has enlisted the aid of Black Mask. Create new posters, double the price if necessary. I want them both found and in shackles before the end of the month.”

Between Raisin' Hell An' Amazin' Grace Pt. 3

Pania watched as Johnson began the chase, trying to head the Black Mask off at the pass. But she had already out maneuvered eight riders bearing down on her, slipping past one was no problem. The pale elf grinned and offered a wave as Black Mask raced passed, and then she waited, counting down from five.

“HA!” she shouted, spurring her mount forward. The maddened posse, combined with the Army soldiers were riding tired mounts. They'd already been racing as fast as they could. So had Black Mask's. But Pania's was fresh. They'd been traveling lightly, and slowly. And it showed as Pania burst into the midst of the posse, keeping pace with them. “Mornin' boys!” she called out, tipping her hat to a pair of deputies. They shared a confused look, then realized Black Mask wasn't the only criminal in their midst.

“P... P... Pale.... Pale...” one of the deputies stuttered as he tried to kick his brain into gear.

“Pale Rider, luv,” Pania finished for him with a grin as she pulled one of her Smith and Wessons from it's holster and fired into the ground near the horse's feet. The sudden sound spooked the horse, along with a few others, and they veered off the path. A pair of them jostled and stopped the chase altogether. Pania twirled the pistol easily in her hand as she placed it back in her holster, then reached for her rapier. She rode quickly behind one of the riders from Harrisburg, and gently stuck the rapier against the leather strap that held the saddle on the horse. A flick of her wrist and the rider took a mean tumble, away from the racing stampede of hooves, mind you.

“Johnson!” Pania heard Williams shouting ahead of her. “What the hell are you doing here? You were ordered to watch the prisoner!”

“I'm back 'ere, Capt'n!” Pania shouted as she sheathed the rapier, and spurred the horse forward. She became reckless, slamming her mount into the side of another horse, causing the rider to lose balance and tumble into the dirt. Only the sheriff and a few members of the Williams men were in front of Pania. It wouldn't take her long to catch up to Black Mask.

That is, if she could get away from the clawing hands of Captain Williams, who took a swipe at her. “Capt'n,” Pania shouted out in shock. “Tryin' ta beat a prisoner. 'Ow rude.” She pulled her pistol and fired into the ground near William's mount. The horse swerved and jittered, but didn't completely spook. Williams had good control of his horse. “Dammit!” Pania cursed under her breath and encouraged her horse forward. The other horses were falling behind. Even the horses ridden by Williams' men were slowing. But so was Black Mask's. Pania had to reach her and get her off the road and into the forests. It was probably their only chance at escape.

*****

Shani had heard the gunfire behind her and ducked instinctively. She snuck a peek back just in time to see a rider tumble to the ground, his horse racing off to nowhere. This confused her slightly, there shouldn't be any reason why that would happen. The answer soon came.

She saw the small rider, mounted on a chestnut mare. Her clothes definitely weren't American. They looked more European, with her thigh high boots, buckles from top to sole, the leather corset and silken blouse tucked neatly under the French looking long coat. The pale skin and lithe features of the woman hit Shani next, and she contemplated this as her horse raced forward. “Thet ain't nuther elf,” she muttered to no one in particular. “Ain't no way. I come ta this plane on my own. Didn't ev'n tell mamma I were comin'.” She snuck another peek behind her. “Clothes're all wrong anyways. HA!”

Bounty hunter or not, the elf that was coming up hard and fast behind her could be a potential problem. There was no way Shani would simply fire indiscriminately on her. She could be a bounty hunter but what if...

“Dangit! Why didn't I think o' it b'fore?” Of course, she'd seen the dime store novels that were sold right next to the ones about Billy the Kid, Jesse James and even herself. “Pale Rider. I shoulda figgered so.” She huffed and shook her head as the realization settled in. Still, there was no indication that Pale Rider wasn't in fact going after the reward money herself. It was that thought alone that forced Shani to draw one of her long barrels.

“Got a s'prise fer ya, Pale Rider,” she muttered to herself. “Y'all ain't gittin' no reward money t'day.”

*****

Pania had just one last rider to race past. This was the deadliest of horse races. A mix of blood-lust and guns, the chasing mob could turn ugly any moment. Not that it wasn't already appearing that way. The pale elf spurred her mount to race faster as she zeroed in on the last rider, inching forward until she was beside him.

“Mornin' Johnson!” she shouted to the rider. Her guard, the last rider. Johnson took one confused look to Pania, and that was all she needed. She reach over, grabbing the collar of his tunic and shoved him hard. His balance in the saddle disturbed, he flailed his arms as he tried to stay up, but to no avail. He tumbled hard as his horse kept running, but had slowed down without the weight of a rider to encourage it forward. “See ye later, Johnson!” she shouted back with a grin.

Now there was just one goal left. “HA!” she shouted as her horse inched closer and closer to the Black Mask. As she approached slowly from the rear, Pania took note of the position the rider was sitting in. No apparent wounds, she wasn't sitting in the saddle in pain. The pale elf furrowed her brow as she recognized the lay of Black Mask's right arm, and Pania jerked her own Smith and Wesson from it's holster.

Closer and closer she inched, her mount's nose slowly creeping forward until finally they were neck and neck. Just in time, as Pania saw Black Mask's motion. She raised her own pistol, cocked and ready, as she found herself staring down the barrel of the Colt. “Best keep tha' iron 'olstered, Mask,” Pania called out. “'Specially if ye want ta get rid o' these b'hind ye.”

“Yeah,” Shani snorted a laugh. “An' I bet y'all're gonna help me with thet. Sure. An' the sky's purple, too.”

“Think 'bout it,” Pania scowled. “Shootin' me's only gonna make me fire 'swell. I'll be dead, ye'll be injured, an' where we gonna be at tha' point.” Pania could tell that Shani was considering this information. Without a word, she holstered the pistol and spurred the horse forward for the umpteenth time that morning. Pania followed suit, making certain she was keeping pace with the elven rider.

Behind the pair of riders, there still was a formidable force chasing them, and they still had weapons. This fact became more clear as the sudden report of a rifle sounded out, the bullet whizzing past them.

“Dangit!” Shani shouted out angrily.

“Their terrible shots on 'orseback,” Pania assured her. “Couldna 'it the broadside o' a barn.”

Shani rolled her eyes at the comment. Great, a comedian. Bet she's a bard. “Take my reigns,” she said as she held her reigns out to Pania. The pale elf took them, albeit hesitantly, and waited for Shani's next move.

The lithe elf showed just how nimble she was, as she twirled her body, still in the saddle, to suddenly face the oncoming posse. “Jist keep the pace, girly girl,” Shani instructed as she pulled both long barrels and began firing, hoping that the sudden volley of bullets would be yet another in a long list of discouraging situations for the posse. Shani fired until both guns were empty, and she holstered them, peeking in front of them again to see what obstacles there were.

“A bridge!” Pania pointed out with a shout. Shani grinned as an idea came to her. The bridge wasn't very big, sturdy enough for a pair of horses, but not sturdy enough for a stagecoach. Which meant it was weak enough to become kindling. Pania watched as Shani pulled four sticks of dynamite from a saddle bag. “Ye in the 'abit o' carryin' explosives wit' ye, are ye?” Pania said with some shock and fear in her voice.

“Ya never know when this shit's gonna come in handy, girly girl,” Shani replied with a smirk. She took out her hunting knife and cut down the wicks of the sticks and tied them together with the remaining wick. Carefully, she took out her pack of cigarillos, and carefully lit one of them, taking a quick peek in front to see how far away the bridge was. Timing was everything. Picking up the four sticks of dynamite, she calculated carefully. The dynamite had to be lit at the right time. She may have been accused of over thirty murders, but she wasn't about to kill off members of the posse indiscriminately.

The posse was a fair ways back from them. Lots of time for the explosion to take out the bridge and leave them to run at a slower pace. Shani took another peek ahead of her, the bridge looming closer and closer. This had to be timed right, the dynamite had to be dropped at the best location to do the most damage so their pursuers couldn't follow. She took the cigarillo out of her mouth and held it close to the wick. As she heard the sound of hooves on wood, she tossed the dynamite behind her, moving quickly in the saddle as she turned to face forward again.

She took the reigns from Pania and spurred her mount again, encouraging Gipsum forward. It was now just a matter of time. Shani didn't have to look behind her to see if the dynamite would blow, it was a given. But there was the nagging sensation that it wouldn't work. Don't think about it, just ride.

Animation World Network

Found an incredible web site for those interested in animation, or just looking for some well done short animation videos. It's called the Animation World Network TV. I've been watching it for the past couple of days, and it is very entertaining.

Check it out sometime.

Until next time...

...keep 'em flyin'.

Between Raisin' Hell An' Amazin' Grace Pt. 2

“If you will please give generously as the collection plate is passed around,” the preacher said with a kind smile. The service was drawing to it's end, as the well known rituals were conducted. “Please don't forget, we will be holding a small picnic this afternoon, so I do hope that you will all attend. I have been informed that the Women's Christian League...”

The preacher's announcement was never finished as the doors to the church burst open. All eyes turned as a small boy, no more than nine or ten came running down the center ailse. “Quick!” he shouted, not waiting for the looks of annoyance to become scolding voices for his rudeness. “Ya gotta come quick. Black Mask is robbin' the bank 'cross the street.”

The entire church sat in stunned silence for a brief moment. Finally, one man jumped to his feet, racing to the back of the church to collect his trappings. One of the deputies, he called out to anyone who would listen. “Sheriff Calloway's at the station house! Somebody has to get him!” The boy who just made the announcement bolted out the door, racing to the station house.

The congregation then had their worst fears confirmed as they heard a loud shout that penetrated the walls of the church.

“Dang it, kid!” Shani cried out in a scolding voice. “Sunday ain't no day ta rouse people from their rest.”

“It's true!” one woman said as she looked through a pane in the stained glass. She could see Shani on her horse, the satchels filled to the brim as money bills floated out. “It's the Black Mask!” More of the men in the church began to rush to the back, shouting out they would offer assistance to capture her. The preacher himself shouting out Biblical verses, an attempt to encourage the men to victory.

“We ain't gittin' a slow ride t'day, Gipsum,” Shani called out to the quarter horse as she spurred him forward. “C'mon, time ta git!” Gipsum knew all too well what this was like. Shani would ride him hard, until any pursuers were no where in sight. And he was looking forward to a nice stable with hay and water.

The shouts behind her spurred her to move faster. Even the horse became a bit more desperate. Escape was all they had to do, get out of Harrisburg, on the road and lay low for a few days. To think, a nine year old started this little posse. “Last time I rob a place on a Sunday,” Shani muttered to herself as the horse's hooves pounded the cobbled street. “South, thet's our best bet, Gipsum. We head a good stretch south, an' then we start makin' our way back north. May be cold come winter, but I doubt anybody's gonna care ta look fer us.” The words were more an encouragement for herself than for the horse. This town had already achieved mob mentality. “Dang right, last time I rob a place on a Sunday, mark my words.”

*****

“So 'ow's the 'ome life, Capt'n?” Pania asked as the small group slowly moved along the road. They had only been traveling for fifteen minutes and no one had said a word. So Pania decided to start the conversation. The stoic looks upon the faces of her escort did not change at all.

“I am not permitted to speak to you,” Williams responded in a gruff tone. “Besides, I've been warned of your sultry ways. How you charm men to do your bidding. How you bed them down and leave them with nothing.”

“Oh!” Pania said with a slight grin. “Those from them dime store novels 'gain, Capt'n? B'cause, I'll le' ye in on a secret.” She leaned over in her saddle as she moved her horse closer to him and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I dunna sleep wit' men, Capt'n. I prefer ta bed down with their wives.” Captain Williams looked over to her for the first time since they began riding, a look of disgust on his face. Pania only grinned and winked at him. “I s'ppose I'll 'ang fer tha' one.”

“The more serious crimes are what we're concerned with, Miss Alow,” Williams replied. “Your goddless and heathen ways will have to be dealt with on your own, when you meet your maker.”

“Oh, don' ye bloody star' preachin' ta me, Capt'n,” Pania huffed, her voice filled with disgust. “I've at least read yer Bible, an' there's thin's I've seen tha' ye people should be ashamed o'. The way ye treat the tribes fer example.”

“Goddless savages,” Captain Williams spat. “They refuse to see the light, and therefore become an enemy of this great nation.”

“Ye know they were 'ere first, righ',” Pania remarked. She let out a breath as she shook her head, bringing her horse to a complete stop. The soldiers responded, stopping the small escort as they looked to Captain Williams for orders. “'Onestly, Capt'n. Did ye miss the par' wha' said do unta others as ye would 'ave 'em do unto ye?”

Captain Williams steered his horse to face Pania, a look of rage in his eyes. “I have my orders Miss Alow. I am not here to debate things which you have no clue of. I suggest you keep your mouth shut until we get to Harrisburg.”

There was an icy calm that settled between the two, one that could only end in violence should the conversation be pressed further. Pania only hoped that some of these soldiers saw she did not reach for any of her weapons, even though they had left her unshackled.

“Fine,” Pania huffed as she looked to the sky. “Gettin' on noon. We bes' make tracks 'en, shouldn't we.” She prodded the horse forward and the small company joined her movement. It wasn't for very long, as almost seconds later, Williams stopped the group dead in their tracks. Harrisburg was not far away, they could see it on the horizon.

They could also see a very large cloud of dust that sped quickly away from Harrisburg, toward them.

“Tha' look like a lotta people,” Pania remarked. “Wonder if they in tha' much o' a 'urry ta get ta their Sunday picnic.”

Williams shot Pania a look but quickly shrugged off the comment as he turned to his men. “Weapons, men. Protect the prisoner at all costs.” The soldiers brought their rifles up, making sure they were loaded, cocked and ready in case the unidentified group was rushing toward them with ill intent.

Pania smiled slightly and turned to Williams. “Protectin'! Thank ye, Capt'n, ye so sweet sometimes.”

*****

“C'mon hawse!” Shani shouted as the quarter horse's hooves pounded the dirt beneath him. She had some time, she got a head start after all. The posse was still gathering extra men. But there were enough that were blazing a trail toward her already, and they weren't that far back. At least, not far enough back for Shani's tastes. “I'd shout eat my dust, but theys already doin' thet. HA!” She ventured a look behind her, taking an estimate of how many had already started to give chase. “Dang it, Gipsum. We gots fifteen on our asses already.”

On your ass, the horse thought. They'll let me graze at least.

The growing posse was starting to pick up momentum. Spurred on by a combination of the encouraging words spoken earlier by the preacher, the $50,000 reward on Shani's head, dead or alive, and the sheer audacity that someone would attempt to rob a bank on a Sunday. They were determined to catch Black Mask, and make her pay. The lead riders had weapons drawn, and two of them took shots at Shani with their pistols.

“Dang it, y'all git uppity fer someone bustin' up yer day o' rest,” Shani shouted back in reply to the pistol fire. “Whyn't y'all take a breather an' jist let me go.” Of course, there was no response, and the posse did not slow down in it's chase of the lithe elf. Shani shouted out a command to spur the horse faster, but Gipsum was already running full tilt.

The posse behind her responded in kind, as hoops and hollers sounded out, their own horses responding as their lunged forward in their quest. Again, they fired toward the lone rider, hoping a stray bullet would hit her, and knock her off the horse. But there was no indication that she had taken any wounds.

“So dang glad y'all crappy shots,” she called out as she drew one of her Colts and fired back, aiming above the heads of her pursuers. Perhaps the return fire would begin to discourage them some how. The pounding of the horse hooves behind her told her that no, in fact it only encouraged them to push forward. “Didn't y'all read the wanted posters?” Shani shouted back. “I'm considered extremely dangerous, an' y'all shouldn't approach me. Jist inform the proper authorities.” Desperation was clawing at Shani. She'd been chased before, but never by a group so large “Wanted posters,” she snorted under her breath. “Yeah, alla thet information's jist a buncha bullshit. Proper authorities my ass!”

Strange how irony hits sometimes. Shani rode hard and fast, even as she caught sight of the small group of riders on the crest of a hill. “Ain't no way someone got a message thet fast ta the Army. This is jist a bad series o' coincidences. HA!” She spurred her mount to move faster as she thought of some way to get out of the obvious predicament she had suddenly discovered herself in.

*****

“Sir,” one of the soldiers piped up with excitement in his voice. “I'm certain that's the Black Mask.” Williams guided his horse for a better look, his brow furrowing as he suddenly had a decision to make. Leave his current prisoner and pursue this new target, or leave Black Mask to the mob behind them. He had his orders, but they also included the capture of Black Mask.

“Johnson!” Williams barked. “Stay with the prisoner. The rest of you, come with me.” His men wordlessly followed his orders and began to ride fast down the hill, leaving Johnson to stand guard over the pale elf.

Pania looked over to her new guard with a smile. “So tha's the Black Mask.” Johnson didn't bat an eye. “I've 'eard she's dangerous.” Again, no response. Pania watched Williams and his men as they raced toward the distant rider. She could tell there was a hesitation in Black Mask as she now had a group behind her, and one bearing down upon her. Pania sighed as she watched the Black Mask fire wildly into the air, causing some of the soldiers to break formation. This only allowed the Mask to steer her horse through the ranks and break out in the open again. “I think ye better go 'elp 'em.”

Johnson finally looked Pania square in the eye. “I have my orders, ma'am.”

“I know,” Pania cooed. “Bu', it look like they 'avin' some trouble catchin' 'er. Jus' think o' the 'commendation ye'd receive fer the 'eroic capture o' one o' the most dangerous criminals ever ta roam these parts.”

“We've already captured you, ma'am,” Johnson replied without hesitation.

“She's worse, I'm sure,” Pania said with a firm nod. Johnson didn't move, but Pania kept looking back to the riders, then back to Johnson. “Time's short, lad. Bes' make ye decision. Capt'n Williams'll either 'ave ye 'ead fer leavin' me, 'r lettin' Black Mask escape when she's so close. Pania could almost hear the gears turning in the young soldiers head. She was getting through to him.

Johnson took a deep breath, and for the first time, stuttered. “Y... you'll stay here? Wait until I come back.”

“'Ave me word,” Pania said with a smile. Johnson looked back and forth between the chase, and Pania. Finally, he spurred his mount forward, racing to help. “'Course, I dunna 'xpect ye ta come back,” Pania mused to herself as soon as Johnson was out of earshot. “I've always wanted ta meet the elf known as Black Mask anyway.”

Between Raisin' Hell An' Amazin' Grace Pt. 1

Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, August 16, 1863

The citizens of Harrisburg attended to their usual Sunday rituals. It was a warm summer day, and picnics had been planned after the church services. The pace was slow, fitting for the day, as people walked down the streets from their homes, or rode in horse drawn carriages to their local church. No one seemed to pay any heed to the wanted posters which seemed to litter the lamp posts and bulletin boards. Reward, they proclaimed in bold letters. Wanted. Dead or Alive. $50,000. A high price indeed. But then, the Eastern Seaboard and into the Midwestern United States knew the name of the Black Mask all too well.

For some, it was from tales of infamy, this black masked rider, robbing stage coaches and banks across the Midwest and into the Eastern States. Threatening the lives of those who would dare stand against her. Yes, there was that as well. This highwayman, was in fact a woman.

It was that fact alone that the dime store novels called The Adventures of the Black Mask sold so well, making a little known author a good deal of money for his work. Avid readers would clamor for the latest adventure to read what their "heroine" would do to get herself into and out of trouble. She became as popular as she was infamous, and it was that fame that caused a rift between the public and the federal lawmen trying to catch her.

But neither the law men, nor the public, had any idea what the Black Mask was really all about.
Only Shani Wennemein did.

She rode her horse slowly past the church, almost as though she were in solemn prayer. She didn't believe in the religion or the gods of this world, but she would at least respect them. No stealing from a church. No shooting a minister. No gun play in the halls of a cathedral.

But there was nothing in the good book that said banks were out of the question.
Shani smirked as she looked up, taking a tug on the cigarillo as she steered the horse toward the First National Bank and Loan building. Very people took notice of her as she stopped the horse in front of a tavern. She casually dismounted the horse, not bothering to walk toward the establishment. It was Sunday morning, it would be closed. She kept her long coat buttoned, hiding the pair of six guns that hung at her hips. Weapons she had grown used to wielding only three short years before when she first found this plane called Earth.

Someplace between hell and amazing grace, Shani would often call it. Here on Earth, she came to raise hell. The thrill of the chase. In a place where her brother could not corral her and lecture her.

She tipped her hat as a few citizens passed her by. People would remember a kind smile and warm eyes more than the fire and brimstone that the preachers in the church would call her. The thought of her relation to a demon. They mistook her elven heritage for that of a demon or devil. These humans, so quick to judge. No wonder the Indians had their problems with the European settlers.

Shani flipped out her pocket watch and checked the time. She scanned the streets and watched the last of the citizens entering their churches to pray, and a smile formed on her lips as she looked skyward. "Well Lord. Can't say I worship ya none, but I gotta pray ta make certain ain't no one git in my way as I liberate this here bank o' it's funds. There's people more needy 'n these here thet could use this ta survive." As she clicked the pocket watch closed, she raised the black mask over her face and unbuttoned the long coat. Time for the Black Mask to go to work.

*****

"And I looked, and behold a pale horse," the preacher cried out from the pulpit, fist held high in the air, his voice filled with fire and brimstone. "And his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth." The preacher fell silent as he looked out upon the congregation, the pause in his sermon acting as dramatic effect. "Friends," he finally said in a softer tone. "I speak to you of these words from the Book of Revelations, because I have seen that very rider." He held his hand high and his voice raised slightly. "Nay, I have seen two of those riders. Just as you have seen them. You see them on the wanted posters, which I have heard decorate newspapers and bulletin boards from here to Tombstone. The Pale Rider, and the Black Mask." He paused again, letting this information sink in to the ears of his parishioners.

"To date, these two have been a plague on our society," the preacher announced. "They are everything that the Bible teaches us not to follow. Just last week, it was heard that Black Mask ransacked a caravan, laying waste to all those who rode the carriages. And Pale Rider. She aids the savage Indians that have fought us in the past." He paused again as he rested both his hands on the pulpit, studying his congregation intently. "These actions themselves are nothing, compared to their... suspect lineage, my friends. Should you ever have seen them as I have, they both have rather pointed ears. Pointed ears, I say.” There was a small gasp of shock from the congregation, encouraging the preacher to continue. “This alone proves they are demons and devils set upon this earth to thwart good God fearing men and women."

The congregation was riveted to every word, not even blinking as he spewed forth lies of his own. Uneducated drivel, as some might say. But this revelation would not have stopped him. Because he had God on his side.

"I ask each and every one of you, to pray, now. Pray that these heathens are captured, and they in kind, face God's mighty wrath."

*****

Pania Alow tossed the duster coat to the ground and rolled up her sleeves. Deer Chaser had taken a bad hit by a rancher's bullet. The metal shard had cut through a major artery, and the bleeding was bad. She quickly worked, covering the wound with a cloth and pressing her hand against it to quell the flow. Two of the braves that brought Deer Chaser to her tried to help her, but her patient was struggling against the pain.

"Fire water," one of them suggested.

The pale elf shook her head. "I'll no' use whiskey ta deaden the pain. No' when them Europeans 'ave been tryin' ta push it onta ye." She reached to her boot and pulled a knife from a small scabbard and sighed as she looked into Deer Chaser's eyes. "This is gonna 'urt." She looked to the pair of braves as they took firm hands to hold down Deer Chaser as Pania did her work. The pale elf took a deep breath and nodded to Deer Chaser. As he nodded back, she quickly straddled his form and took her hand away from his wound, the blood soaked cloth falling slowly from the bullet wound. She had to move quickly, stabbing the dagger into his shoulder. His voice cried out in pain as she dug for the bullet, one of his companions at the ready, hand hovering over a hot iron to cauterize the wound after the small elf finished. Deer Chaser's eyes rolled back as his screams of pain fell short, just as Pania extracted the bullet.

“NOW!” she shouted, and the brave closed the wound. Pania moved back, grabbing a basin of water to clean the now closed wound. She felt along Deer Chaser's neck, finding a weak pulse. “'E'll be fine. Jus' get 'im back ta the tribe, le' 'im rest fer a time.”

“What of you?” one of the braves asked. “Law men chase you. They will always hunt you.”

“I know,” Pania said as she sat back against a large rock. “Jus' b'cause I give aid ta savages.” She sighed to emphasize the sarcasm in her voice. These Indians weren't savages. They were people. The Europeans were just too blind to see. “No' many places lef' ta run, mind ye.”

One of the braves slapped her on the shoulder and smiled. “For what you do for the people, we will always offer you shelter.”

Pania nodded as she offered a kind smile. She looked as Deer chaser began to rouse from his force slumber. “Careful, lad,” she warned. “Ye'll still be in a bit o' pain fer a while.” She held out the slug she dug out of his shoulder to him. “A souvenir o' ye day.”

Deer Chaser gingerly took the slug and studied it as he furrowed his brow. “Odd, that something so small, would hurt so much.”

The pale elf only nodded as she rose to her feet. “Bes' be off m'self. I'd start movin' yeselves. Slowly, mind ye. Never know wha' the lawmen 'roun' 'ere gonna do ta three like ye.” She grabbed her gear and walked to her horse, giving one last look back to the trio. A tip of her hat and a small smile was all that needed to be said, and she mounted the chestnut mare with ease and began moving south.

After all, Harrisburg might be nice this time of year.

One of the braves rose to his feet, waving solemnly as she rode on. “Watch the trail, Pale Rider.”

*****

The steel bars that stood in front of the bank vault were no match for Shani's skill with a lock. The padlock, as new as it looked, was easily picked and quickly gave into the elf's lithe fingers. Now it was time for the vault, and this would be much more difficult. But not by much.

Her keen elven ears listened as the tumblers dropped into position, turning the combination lock slowly until the final click could be heard. Shani gave a small laugh as she opened the vault. “This here's easier 'n stage coaches,” she whispered to no one in particular. Her enthusiasm was clear, this would be the biggest haul of her short, yet storied career on Earth, and she hadn't even toured Europe yet. Her attention was focused completely on the bags of money that had been sorted the previous Friday. Only a few would need to be taken, no reason to be that greedy. Besides, there was a small farming community that could use the funds due to the recent drought.

As she filled her satchel, she didn't even hear the scuffle of tiny feet behind her. In her planning, she never assumed that someone would have followed her inside the bank. This became apparent in the next few seconds.

“Hi!” the rather excited voice of the child said behind her as she dropped her satchel and reached for her irons. She stopped just as she was about to cock the hammers back and let out a quick breath. Shani couldn't believe that a nine year old had gotten the drop on her Sloppy, Shan, real sloppy.

“Kid,” Shani said to the boy as he grinned happily. “Y'almost got yerself a gut fulla bullets.” She holstered the long barrel Colts and picked up her satchel, keeping an eye on the boy. “What the hell ya doin' here anyhow? Ain't ya s'pposed ta be in church now?”

“I snuck out,” he replied with a grin. “Yer the Black Mask, aintcha?” He seemed way too excited to be meeting one of the United States most wanted criminals. “I wanna ride with ya!”

Shani was about to start walking out of the vault, but the boy's words made her stop rather quickly. “No!” she said with a great deal of force. “I ain't yer mamma, an' I ain't 'bout ta take some wet b'hind the ears kid with me on the run. What I do's dangerous, an' I ain't 'bout ta risk the life o' some kid.”

The boy frowned slightly at the rejection, he almost appeared as though he was going to start crying. “But you risk yourself everyday.”

“Yeah,” she replied quickly as she began moving out of the bank. “B'cause I know what the hell I'm doin'.”

“You take me with ya, 'r I'm tellin'!” the boy shouted at her.

“Yeah, y'all go 'head an' do thet, kid,” Shani scoffed as she loaded the satchels onto the horse. The quarter horse chuffled in minor protest, knowing that he'd have to bolt at a full gallop soon enough. “Like anybody's gonna b'lieve ya thet I'm in...” She stopped speaking as she settled into the saddle. The boy was gone. She scanned the streets for the nine year old, only the tell tale sound of the church doors slamming gave her any indication where the boy had gone. “Well... shit!”

*****

Pania let the chestnut mare follow the trail without any coaxing. After all, she wasn't unfamiliar with the territory. The elf that had become known as Pale Rider to the tribes was used to carrying medical supplies back and forth. In a way, Pania was a stage coach robber as well, hitting only coaches that carried medicines. She took only as much as was needed, and often the stage coaches carried an excess of supplies. It was these actions, as well as giving them to the Indians, that made her wanted by federal law. She wasn't sure what the price on her head was, but if she could save a few people, it was all worth it.

Her mind wandered as she sat in the saddle. She was tired, it had been a hard few days of riding, and only more coming in the next few days. New Orleans was a long ride. But she supposed that pissing in the United States government's oatmeal wasn't enough, she had to do it to the Confederates as well. The war had been raging for two years, all over slavery. And she planned to get involved. And no better way than getting involved in the Underground Railroad. Besides, she knew a few trails that lead to the British Northwestern Territories.

Pania's thoughts were so focused on what she wanted to do, she didn't think about what she needed to do. So it came as no surprise that she found herself suddenly surrounded. Pania only sighed as she looked over the uniforms of the US soldiers. She recognized one of them and smiled as her gaze stopped on him. “Mornin' Capt'n Williams,” she said with a broad smile. “Nice ta see ye out fer a ride with the boys on such a fine day. Wha' bring ye out this way?”

“Pania Alow,” Williams announced without fail, ignoring Pania's greeting. “Also known as the Pale Rider. You are here by bound by law. You will be placed under arrest, charged with robbery, aiding the enemy, and murder.”

“Murder!” Pania shot back with some shock. “I think ye been readin' 'em dime store novels too much, Capt'n. I've no' drawn blood bu' in self d'fense.”

“You will be taken to Harrisburg,” Williams continued. “Where you will await transport to Washington where you will stand trial.”

“Ooo! 'Arrisburg,” she said with a grin. “I were 'eadin' tha' way anyway.” She moved her horse closer to the Captain, stopping only when the soldiers cocked their rifles. “Easy, boys. I'm no' the Black Mask, I'm no' a quick draw specialist.” She looked back to Williams with a smile. “So, shall we ge' goin' then. I'd like ta see the President 'ventually. After all, I'd like ta speak with 'im 'bout the slave trade in the south.”

Williams opened his mouth to speak, but found he couldn't. He had been told Pale Rider was a dangerous criminal, blood thirsty and would stop at nothing to escape. But here she sat on her horse, waiting to be escorted. “Uh... this is... rather unexpected.”

“Wha'?” Pania replied with a laugh. “I were goin' ta 'Arrisburg anyway, an' ye 'ave yer orders ta take me there. It's a win win situation, 'far as I can see.” She casually looked over the soldiers with a grin. “C'mon boys, chop chop. Dunna fall b'hind.” She steered her horse down the trail, stopping only to look back at Williams and his men. “Ye comin' 'r no'?”

Eventually Williams motioned his soldiers forward. Pania's actions still confused him. The ride along the road confused him even more, as he listened to Pania hum gospel hymns as they sauntered along. What he didn't know was that Pania's calm and gentle demeanor was actually a ruse. After all, she had to ditch her armed escort somehow, and she plotted and schemed as she casually rode along with the boys.

Paranoid

This is a local band out of Outlook. I have it on good information that they are putting together a demo, and putting together their own material. They are called Fragile Transit. Check it out.

Until the day the music dies...

...keep 'em flyin'.

Adventures of Black Mask and Pale Rider

I will be continuing Canyons of Steel at some point. Currently, I am cleaning up the first two chapters, expanding them and turning them into a book. Hopefully I'll have news on that in the near future.

But, I have also had some other stories kickin' around up in the ol' brain pan. And in the want to write a fantasy western, I've decided to take two characters and start writing. The series of short stories will be called Adventures of Black Mask and Pale Rider, using my elven characters Shani Wennemein and Pania Alow. Magical elves as gunslingers in 1863 United States.

I won't say anymore, other than I have the first chapter of the first story in the can, so to speak. But, I will provide this lovely teaser for you.
Until the south will rise again...

...keep 'em flyin'!