Black Meridian: White Lies

What kind of name is Spoons anyway?

That was the thought running through Nadine's head, as she approached the little nest in the rocks that the gang's head cook had made himself. There were always stupid thoughts in her head it seemed, these days some of 'em even managed to get free of her lips. It was late, and most of the gang had eaten their share already. As Nadine walked she saw the boys, hanging from between the rows of their tents and fire-pits, gawking. She might be a wolverine, and a fierce one at that, but she was still a woman, and that were a damn rare sight out here in the mountains. Despite that, few of the Curse's boys gave her anything more than a cursory lookin'. They all remembered what happened when Billy-Bob tried to get frisky with her, remembered him squealing in the dirt as he clutched his severed fruits, blood gushing through his grubby little paws.

It was dark and breezy in the small depression they'd chosen for camp, a wall of pine trees looming in the distant shadows like a stage curtain. Hildeburg was humid, just like the whole bloody south, but Nadine didn't mind it too much, it was sorta nice even. What she didn't care for where the random spiky rocks laying in the tall grass, always poking into her ass when she sat, or her feet when she walked. Either way, the mountains and trees would keep the gang sheltered from any law on the lookout, and it was a big enough space to house the lot of 'em. Nadine reckoned that was enough, she wasn't complaining.

“You comin' up last in line?" Old man Spoons grunted, barely giving her more than a flick of his eyes as she sauntered up, guns jingling at her waist. “Well I'll be, that's somethin' I never bet on."

“Some of us actually work, Spoons." The bear laughed at that one, good.

“Too right, seems most'a these new boys just want a free ride, huh?" He sighed, looking out at the large encampment. Moving this many outlaws around while staying ahead of the law was a challenge if Nadine knew one, but damn, somehow Isaiah managed to keep them all going. Facts were facts though, the new boy were sloppy, lazy, embarrassing really. “The old goat'll whip them into shape sometime soon, don't you fret none Naddie." Nobody else got to call her that.

Spoons was good people, Nadine figured. A little grouchy, and easy to piss off, but he worked a good deal harder than most'a them others. He kept himself to himself, and did right by those who did right by him. A good bear. Nadine didn't much care for the attitude most of them other boys held, but Spoons was from way back, from 'fore their numbers got halved and halved again.

From before that bloodbath in the high mountains.

“So you want some'a this crap then?" Spoons sighed, prodding at his greenish-grey stew with an iron stirring spoon. It might look like feral-feed, but Nadine knew better. Feeding more'n thirty men was the work of Old Gods, but Spoons made a bang-up job of it. Made it an art. Keep boys happy, keep 'em fed, no problems.

“Can I've two?" Nadine said, nerve rising in her throat.

“Huh?" The old bear asked, as if he hadn't quite heard, still stirring his pot. The Sultan's Curse wasn't like other gangs, or least it wasn't meant to; they operated by a strict code, and Spoons was one that adhered to it close as close could be.

Old Curse. Folks here from the start, or near enough that it counted. Codes, rules, back when they were tryin' to be more'n just a fucking gang of outlaws pissing their lives away. That was the pitch, least. 'No man asks more'n his share', the first rule – not that anyone seemed to give a shit anymore.

Hell, Nadine thought. I'm still kickin', Isaiah's done best he can, reckon. Who the fuck am I to complain? She licked her lips, fidgeting. Damn it old man don't do this to me.

“Spoons c'mon now." She tried, glancing around the dark clearing, sure someone unfortunate was watching, maybe that big white bastard. “I wouldn't be askin' none if I didn't think it weren't important."

The old bear sighed, begrudgingly filling up two small bowls. “Aight, aight girl. Wouldn't be doin' this for no-one else, but you're old Curse same's I, so here, keep it to y'self." And he handed over the bowls, each ladled with stew.

“Keep it close, ay Spoons?" She nodded, bowing slightly as she turned away. Then, muttering under her breath; “fuck kinda name is Spoons?"

She wandered towards the far side of the camp, trying to look scarce as she passed by Isaiah's spacious tent. Not like he'd be out drinking and telling tales with his boys now, like it was back in the day. Times were changin', and the gang had to change with 'em, least so said Isaiah.

That was one of the new additions to the code in fact; A man adapts, or he dies.

Used to be the old goat would be out and around, grinning horn-to-horn, showing off that gaudy eyepatch like it were a trophy. Now, he spent most've his time huddled away in his tent, thinkin' up plans with that damn lawyer, a scaly little bastard named Walter. Liars, lawyers, no difference in Nadine's mind, no sir, none t'all.

No fucking honesty left in this world.

But, who was she to question? She hadn't kept them together through all this. She didn't pull off the heist in Whitewall, then get the whole damn lot of 'em out and over the Firespine. Sure, they hit that rival gang 'bout halfway through, got near half the boys gunned down, but no one coulda' planned for that. Isaiah kept them together even so. Hard, not to have a pack of outlaws just scatter at the first sign'a trouble, each one for themselves, especially after a thing like that went down.

Nadine was so lost in thought as she stalked through camp that she nearly crashed into the stark-white pillar of fur standing in her way. She planted her feet and stepped back, lip curling in revolt as she took in the ugly-mug before her.

A giant white tiger, nearly 6'5 by her guess, with paws the size of a lesser man's skull. His shoulders looked nearly a metre apart, face unreadable, fur as still as a corpse. He was the sort to get a kick out of starving a pet bunny to death. Nathan.

Didn't even have a last name, just Nathan, fuck was up with that?

And of course, right behind the big white bastard came his shadow, the one holding the collar, yanking the reigns. Beau Riddon. Old Curse, sure, but still a filthy animal nonetheless. In terms of appearance, Beau was nearly a complete opposite to Nathan, but Nadine had no illusions as to who was the more dangerous of the pair.

A wiry little opossum, Beau had darkness in his eyes, that weird pink tail curling behind him. He had four knives on his belt, and three on his thigh, which Nadine figured was at least one too many.

“Evenin' there lass." Beau said, in his customary drawl, circling his pet behemoth. Nathan stared blankly at her, as if there was nothing inside him. Beau had a knack of attracting scum, a way of drawing those that were as twisted as he was closer, like a magnet picking up brass. Nadine didn't know how he did it, but no sooner would one protégé die that he'd have another nipping at his heels.

Most of the Curse had no idea what Beau was about, but she did, she'd seen his bodies, his discarded playthings. Girls and boys alike, mosta 'em barely fifteen, usually cut to hell, used, tossed aside like garbage. It was in direct violation of the Curse's code, but he was careful to hide his tracks – but she saw through his excuses and lies, she'd met folk like him before. Nadine knew; Beau didn't just keep to hurtin' when he had to.

And now he had Nathan, a building for a bodyguard.

Nadine would've killed him the first time she saw his leftovers, but the code, the fucking code. Even she couldn't get away with openly killing a brother. Why is it nobody cares a shit for the rules, unless I'm the one to break 'em?

“Seein' the sights?" Beau giggled, lighting a cigarette. “What, you keepin' a pet? Or you got a lover-boy back in yer tent?" She rolled her eyes, and Nathan cracked his neck. The tiger wore no shirt, only trousers and boots, a single gun hanging at his hip. He was muscled like an ox, and might've been handsome even, if his eyes had any light to them.

“Coulda asked one've us, y'know." Beau said, smoke chasing each word. “Been a while since Nathan got to put his tools to work. Now I ain't so picky, but Nate likes cunts he does." Nadine shivered, but not because of the wind picking at her fur. Beau grinned. “He can be gentle, y'might enjoy yourself…"

“You even got balls under the weight'a all that, ugly bastard?" Nadine spat. It was a poor retort, but better to say something than take Beau's jabs in silence. She didn't like this, out a little way from camp, her paws full of stew, nothing left to reach for a gun. Nadine was sure Beau had killed Curse members before – she just couldn't prove it, and Isaiah didn't seem to care none without that little snag. “Well, one thing a time, don't say it all at once." She snapped at Nathan, who remained still.

“He's quiet." Beau added. “But you… what's the go, Nadine? You askin' for more'n your share? And you, exemplar of the Sultan's Code, you, free of prejudice and pride! Eatin' for two maybe… You carrying one of these boys little bastard then?"

“Eat shit Beau." She said, pushing between them and storming off. She thought about tossing the stew in his face, but it was lukewarm at best, wouldn't do much good now.

“You ever want to see somethin' new," The opossum called after her, his voice pulling shudders from her spine. “Give us a yell, Nathan's cock is as big as the resta him!" And his laughs followed.

She walked with her eyes closed a moment, pulling them open as she went past the edge of camp. She was far enough from the main body of camp to not hear much of it, the only decent sound the rustling of pine trees. How? How could she fix this? The Curse was falling apart, rotting from the inside out, too much new blood, too many broken rules. But if Isaiah didn't fix them, there wasn't much she could do but complain.

I know these pieces fit. She thought. Hell, I saw 'em fall away, I just need to work out what's dividing us. We gotta have words, real good ones, and soon.

She knew, really. It was the likes of Walter, and the likes of Beau, worming their ideas into the gang. Isaiah surely knew as much as she did that Riddon was a nightmare incarnate, but used to be he kept the vermin on a shorter leash.

Now?

They'd left Steambreather's camp with eleven captives, and now she counted ten.

What did you do Beau? What the hell went so wrong, for you to turn out like this? She wondered, looking through the prisoners. Four guards stood at the boundaries, each armed with rifles, but they were bored with the job and slouching off. The prisoners themselves were mostly members of Steambreather who'd surrendered, all with manacles slapped 'round their wrists, in turn secured by chains to long poles driven hard into the firm soil. We never used to do this shit neither. Nadine thought, biting her lip. Slaves? What part of the code had slave-driving in it?

After they'd conquered Firespine, licking their wounds from the journey, Walter and Isaiah had come up with some new business venture. They crew'd ended up in the Hildeburg Province, and Steambreather was the closest gang that anyone gave a shit about. The Sultan's Curse made a move, gunning them down. The willing came as new blood, the unwilling as slaves. It'd been fun, Nadine shot five people that day, each one deserving it. The slaves were another matter. There was some mysterious contact from way down south, eager for warm bodies, apparently the more the better. The old goat had said almost nothin' about the job, but Nadine figured if he was selling captured rivals it must be to someone half decent. He'd stumbled his way, but he was still Isaiah, he still wanted to lead a free and decent life.

He wouldn't sell this lot to monsters. She thought, approaching two emaciated women, each chained at the far end of the slave camp. Would he?

“Hey." Nadine whispered, and the two started fiercely. They scurried back, holding their paws up defensively. One was a middle-aged fox, lines of grey across the fur in her head. The second was just a girl, maybe sixteen, maybe less. The other slaves were at least grown, but Nadine didn't want to see some pup go hungry; Hildeburg was fucking windy, it got cold.

“Please, please don't hurt us, please!" The mother gasped, shielding the younger girl. “She's only a girl!"

“I know, hey, I know." Nadine cooed, approaching slowly, proffering the bowls. “I brought you guys some extra food."

The two foxes stared incredulously, as if waiting for some kind of nasty trick. The mother's eyes flicked up and down Nadine's figure, taking in the fact she was a woman. Unlikely to do much raping.

The wolverine placed the two bowls in the dirt before them, then sat back on her arse, paws up and splayed. The older fox crawled forward and snatched a bowl hurriedly, shoving it into the girl's paws.

“Here, Allie, eat quickly." She said. The young girl, Alison, inhaled the stew.

We ain't giving this lot enough.

“Alison." Nadine mused. “That's a pretty name, little miss." The mother snatched the other bowl then, devoured about half of it in a quick minute. Nadine watched them slurp, licking the bowls clean, and then their fingers, then their lips.

“Thankya." The mother said, bowing her head. “You've done us a right kindness."

Nadine looked at the chains, dubious. “Well, keep it to y'self. I'd get a lashing for it likely." And she took the bowls back. She was about to stand, when the mother spoke again.

“My name's Maryanne Hedgepeth. This here's Alison, or Allie, for some." Her voice was raw, as if it'd been filed away bit by bit. “We thankya readily. We thought maybe our Lords'd abandoned us, but they sent you Miss. You're kind."

There ain't no Lords watching you two, fairly certain. Nadine sat back down, regardless. Just me, and that ain't worth much anymore.

“Nadine. Nadine O'Brie." Her mouth was a thin line. It felt weird to give up her name, but they gave theirs, it were only fair. She didn't give that last name out to many, that was her daddy's name, and she'd hated that bastard. Now that was a man with no code, no rules. A drunk, who took what he wanted, from anyone who had it.

“Where're you taking us too ma'am?" Maryanne asked, pulling Alison close. The girl had a hollowed look to her eyes, but Nadine supposed being chained up for nearing ten days would do that to a girl.

The wolverine exhaled. “Can't say I rightly know." She admitted. “But, I can tell yous this; Isaiah, our leader, he's a good old boy. He won't be sellin' you girls to nobody that... ain't gonna treat you right."

I hope. They weren't quite pretty enough for a brothel, sort of plain looking, but that was a boon in the slave world. Probably house staff, serving tea to constables and ministers, none of them the wiser that these girls weren't more'n pieces of property. Slavery was outlawed in all but the Umen Province, but when had such a pithy thing as laws stopped rich folk?

Nadine looked at the other prisoners, though it was hard in the darkness. She'd seen a few more women in the rival gang's camp, but they'd scattered soon as the shooting started.

“How'd you two ladies come to get mixed up with a lot like the Steambreathers?" She asked, looking to Maryanne. The fox's face fell, and she sniffed once. To her credit, no tears came, but Nadine wouldn't have blamed her.

“Not by choice ma'am, tell you that." Maryanne replied. “My husband, Caleb. He were a good man, least 'till he drank. Then he'd…"

“He hit yous?" Nadine asked, lip curling. That's what her daddy'd done, that and more.

“No, well once, but…" The fox mother said, licking her lips. “No, Caleb wasn't really a violent man. He was a gamblin' one though. And oh, Caleb, once he'd had an ale or two, and he never didn't have two, he'd start betting on anythin' they'd let him. We lost more'n more every month, since he was never very good." Nadine wanted to laugh, but then remembered the manacles. “Eventually, the debtors had taken all but his blood. They were done hitting and screaming, they wanted his debts paid, or his life. No way we could pay that much, so he meant to leave. Was gonna flee by himself to Adderon he was, come north and join up with that gang." She shuddered.

“But then." The fox continued. “The debtors came just as he was goin'. Well, the short of it is wasn't just Caleb who owed 'em. It was our family, we shared a name, we shared a debt, least they reckoned. Said they'd kill me too, if it came to it. They were awful men, but they were the only ones who'd let him bet anymore and he couldn't help himself. So Allie and I had no choice. We came with him, like it or not."

“You could've run somewhere else." Nadine said, wishing they had. “Could've gone to Gallentry, or Eleckton."

Maryanne shook her head, sighing deeply. “No. They'd recognise Caleb sure enough, the debtors had networks. Allie and I woulda been alright p'haps, but a mother and daughter travelling the wilds alone? No guide, no nothin'? And if did somehow get there what would we do? Ain't got no money, Caleb saw to that. This were the only option ma'am, least it seemed at the time. I feel a right fool now."

“I see." Nadine said. “I'm sorry."

“Could…" Maryanne began, lip quivering. “Any chance'a you lettin' us go, Miss Nadine? We wouldn't make no trouble, wouldn't tell no one where yous are, I swear. I thought I couldn't do without before, but now… we'll just go. We'll get to Fulbright, or find a small town, I'll do whatever I have to."

“I'm…" Nadine said, standing awkwardly. She almost agreed, she wanted to, but the code weighed on her mind. The Sultan's Curse was her family, even if it had gone a little off the rails of late. The new boys might be shits, but she was still old Curse, she still followed the rules. Betraying the Curse's interests was - naturally - strictly forbidden, and she at least still respected that.

No man asks more'n his share. No man does harm to those named brother. A man makes no more violence than need be. Guns for the righteous, knives for the dirty, noose for the wicked. That was how things worked, it kept them from the ferals, and she'd rather have a noose-free neck than a clear conscience.

“I can't, I'm sorry." She said, looking away. Maryanne crawled toward her, eyes pleading. Before the fox could go on, Nadine turned from her. She wanted to run, but forced herself to walk. Had to be hard. She might be Isaiah's best, might be his favourite, but even he'd give her the rope for that.

Meanwhile Beau takes one'a them as his toy, does hell knows what to 'em, and not a whisper. She shuddered as she left the slave den. She was glad Riddon was clear of her, if that vermin of an Opossum were before her now it would take all she had not to wring his neck. It felt wrong. It was too much. Robbing rich cunts, killing lawmen, killing rival gangs, she cared not a whit. That was bad shit done to bad people. Even drug running, the Rust they moved, nasty work but it got sold to people who wanted it. Nobody was forced, it was their choice.

She'd joined the Curse because she believed people ought to have choices in this life. The world was cracking down, the Barons getting harder and harder, and she wanted no part of that future.

I'm here 'cause Isaiah wasn't running some gang of roaming ferals. He was starting a revolution. But here they were. But, you don't turn your back on family.

She threw the bowls aside in a huff, storming back into camp. Out the corner of her eye, she saw Beau and that white-fuck Nathan leering. They sat on a log, chatting, but their eyes followed her. She couldn't imagine anything worse than Nathan or Beau huffing away at her, their twisted rotcock making a go between her legs. Scores but it would feel good to give either one a swift kick in the balls.

Nadine kept walking until she reached the other side of camp, planting herself in the damp grass and staring out at the darkness. Hildeburg was mountains, and while they'd picked a gentle dip to make the camp, the whole area was surrounded with thick woods going up in every direction. Rocky soil and hard living was the way up here. It was cold, and give it a month or two it'd be wet as a whore's slash, near impossible to get a manhunt going.

Lotta places to hide up there. Nadine looked at the trees. Tall, narrow, but planted near enough one another. No good sight lines, thick underbrush, hard to track someone running away, especially in the dark. No, the hell are you thinking, Nadine? She shook her head, slapping at herself. Betray the Curse? Sure, they'd gone a little astray, and breathing the same air as the likes of Beau and Nathan made her want to neck herself, but freeing those girls was a sure way to have Isaiah do it for her.

And you don't turn your back on family. You stick it out, that's the way.

Besides, Maryanne and Alison, they were city girls. They wouldn't know north from south, they'd likely just die out in the wilds. And if they did make it to a town? Maryanne would end up a whore anyway, and Alison would eventually find her way to some poison, whether it be drink, or Rust, or that weird new drug, Sleep. Now that was a wicked thing. Nadine didn't know much about it, but it seemed mighty popular out east of Firespine.

Fuckin' drugs. Guns and drugs and slaves, it's all their damn lives were now.

No, she thought, digging her feet in. Best chance they got is with some decent master, it ain't pretty, but it's better than dying in the wilderness or on the street. It ain't my fault they got mixed up with Steambreather, I ain't the one sayin' we gotta sell 'em either. She was sure; better to be sold, for their own good.

Right? It ain't an excuse if it's true.

Inhaling and exhaling, Nadine went back into the camp. She found herself an armful of empty bottles, and hiked it a half-klick away. She lined the nine or so bottles up along the soil. Some she balanced on tree stumps and rocks, some resting in the dirt. She needed to clear her head, and short of getting dick – none decent out here in the mountains -, this were the best way she knew how.

It musta been close to midnight, but she felt no fatigue as she drew her first revolver. The shots would echo, but the boys would likely ignore it, lazy bastards.

This ain't right girl. The thought came unbidden, guilt poisoning her gut. Nadine banished the thought.

She fired.

One. Two. Three-four. Five-six-seven-eight.

Switch. First gun empty, back to her waist, second up.

Nine.

The firefight was over quick as it started, not a single shot astray. She was Isaiah's best for a-damn-reason.

Shooting always cleared her head. It helped pull her back to zero, and see the truth of the situation. Isaiah was like a father to them all, he was good people, the best. Betray him? She'd sooner die. If he was moving slaves, they were going somewhere not half-bad, she was sure.

And was it fair? To be all worked up and angry without ever voicing it? She'd bitched and moaned, but not actually sat down with the goat and said her piece. He always listened, old Curse always did.

She remembered that time back in the Hatten Province. Beau had just signed on, and he'd been running amuck. He'd strangled some whore he was s'posed to be bedding, and Isaiah near beat the spit out of him. He hadn't stood for murder, hadn't stood for the thrill of it neither.

He's a decent sort, what are you doing? She thought, shaking her head and holstering the gun. Go talk to the old boy if you're so damn worried, set things straight. If you play it right, the girls might be let go. She checked the moon, high in the sky; he'd be awake still, no doubt.

As she walked toward Isaiah's tent, she rehearsed the conversation in her head. She just wanted to ask the plan, and say it was weird he hadn't shared any with her yet. She was his best gun, so why not? All the new blood had muddied things, it was time to refocus, and invest in themselves. They were on the east side of Firespine now, a whole new place, new bounties and warrants out on their heads. New opportunity.

She got close to the tent, and was about to call his name, when a too-familiar drawl of a voice stilled her tongue.

“An' you trust this lot?" Beau Riddon. “Seems rough to me."

“We don't trust anyone ain't Curse, boy." That was Walter, the new lawyer. Komodo dragon. Filth.

Nadine dropped to a crouch, creeping up near the tents rear, eyes peeled for any wandering fools. Nobody around. She pressed her ear to the seam, biting her lip.

“Walter's right, but doubly so with this lot." Isaiah's voice was baritone and gruff, firm but caring, almost fatherly. “We don't know 'em yet, so I don't want you damagin' the new stock none, y'hear?" Nadine relaxed, seemed Beau was getting a talking to.

About damn time.

“I don't like workin' with other gangs." Beau said, moving in place. “We just took out one, like it were nothin'."

“They ain't a gang, boy." Isaiah replied tartly. “They're a… some sorta movement. Into all kinds of crazy shit, got funky beliefs. It's a religion, a flock." Nadine frowned.

“You called me in here to tell me this?" Beau sighed, sounding bored.

“No, but if you shut your maw you might learn some." Walter snapped.

“Watch how you talk to me, 'less you wanna end up as a nice pair of boots!" Beau hissed back.

“Shut it, both 'ya." Isaiah growled. “Beau, listen for once in yer damn life. We're meetin' em, day after next, and I want you with me. It's no secret to me you've got… unusual tastes. Now there ain't no shame in favourin' the unorthodox, but it's makin' waves here, the boys are talkin'. You can't just kill as you like, not round here. Folk won't take it."

No shame in favouring the unorthodox? Nadine thought, frowning. Did Isaiah know what Beau's 'unorthodox' was? It was the hide cut off bodies, teeth ripped from jaws, bones snapped, children stolen, and worse.

Maybe he sees a future in the boy? Redemption? But could anyone as twisted as Riddon really change? Up to her, she'd put a bullet in the back of his skull any day of the week.

“You mean Nadine." Beau laughed. “I'm sure she's nearly wet at the thought of putting a bullet through the back'a my skull, but her rules and codes'll keep her in place. I ain't scared a no dried-up old wolverine."

She shivered.

“Watch yer mouth boy." Isaiah grunted. “She might do things her own way, but she's the best bloody gun in this whole damn camp. You two'd do better to get on."

Not fucking likely. She thought.

“Not fucking likely." Beau said.

Nadine wanted to vomit.

“I know you killed one of the captives." The old goat said, voice cool. The wolverine bristled, finally, Beau was gonna get the smack to his arse he so sorely deserved.

“It weren't me!" Beau exclaimed suddenly. “I had a little fun, sure, but Nate… well you know how he is! All tall, dark, and violent. He was going at 'em, but got a little over-excited. Here we are. Accidents happen, c'mon Isaiah."

“Not here. It can't go on." Isaiah snapped. Nadine relaxed, here came the lashing. “Listen, boy. This new folk, they're led by a fella' name'a Drast. Big fuck-off vulture, looking for meat for his rituals. His boys call 'emselves the Children of Nihil. It's a goofy name, sure thing, but I reckon… I reckon we introduce you to Drast."

“I'm not really a good second." Beau said, his voice low.

“You got urges boy. We understand." Walter added. “But you take 'em out here, Nadine, or someone, is gonna have you for breakfast. We got a code. This… this cult, they ain't got no rules, 'cept worshiping who they say."

“Walt's got the right of it." Isaiah added, and Nadine could picture him nodding in the warm tent. “Their rituals, they claim it's for some God or another, you know how crazy is. But the shit they do, it ain't that much different to what you do, my boy. When we went to meet 'em last, they had a man nailed to a wooden cross, his guts on his back, still left breathin'. They had fresh bones on their armour, crazy bastards."

“Isaiah, the hell is all this about?" Beau jumped in with. “So far all you done is say how twisted they is, and how I'm a problem, you ain't got nothin' more?"

“I want a man inside this death cult, Beau. A man to keep good with 'em, someone who can… understand people with minds like that." The goat answered. “I thought of you. You get to play out your little fantasies, I get to have a middleman."

“There's money here boy. Real money." Walter said, his esses lisping hard. “Not in slaves, that's just a gift. You heard'a Sleep?"

“Some." Beau replied reluctantly. Nadine's mouth dried up, she could picture the Opossum pouting. What was Isaiah doing? This crew sounded almost worse than a brothel, at least fucking was honest.

“This Drast, his cult makes it. They're the only ones what can." Isaiah said, laughing. Nadine's fur crawled. “And, if we play our cards right, he's open to giving us exclusive movement over it. He was sellin' to Steambreather, but we said they're weak, and he said prove it. Here we are, with gifts in tow."

“A lot of money to be had." Walter hissed gleefully.

“And Nadine?" Beau asked.

“What of her?" Isaiah breathed. “She's a damn fine shot, but she'll leave you be if I say. Just… don't kill none'a the slaves. Nad's hard, but she's still a woman… delicate sensibilities, and all that."

It took all of Nadine's willpower not to stand up, draw her gun and shoot the lot of them dead. She still had seven slugs loaded, more than enough. The bastards. The bastards!

Delicate sensibilities! She wanted to scream. She'd had to fight twice as hard when she signed up, to show she was more'n the boys. She had to be tougher, meaner, harder in every possible way. She'd killed unarmed men, burned down houses, done anything she thought would earn Isaiah's respect. She thought she had. She'd done her time being a fucking monster for his approval, and now she was slapped with delicate sensibilities?

“Fuck. You." She whispered, standing slowly. “Fuck. This."

Damn the Sultan's Curse. Damn Isaiah, damn his lies of revolution. He was just like any other criminal. And for what? For money? Who cared? They were 's'posed to be free, free of the law, free of the fat Barons and their fatter oppression. But instead they were taking slaves themselves, signing up with anyone that'd make them rich, and encouraging psychos like Riddon.

Shoulda known. She thought, stalking towards the slave camp. Shoulda seen this coming, dumb bitch. As she got closer, she heard a growling, a huffing, short breaths matching beaten sobs.

She rounded the corner to where Maryanne and Alison had been chained, and saw a furry white ass pointed back at her. Beneath Nathan's hulking frame, Maryanne wasn't moving, her eyes like glassy marbles aimed to the sky, two giant paws clamped around her throat. Beyond them, Alison was sobbing, covering her face, curled into a ball. Nathan wheezed with each thrust, oblivious to his new observer.

Nadine didn't hesitate. She raised her boot high, and kicked straight down, the sole of her foot smashing into the back of Nathan's balls. The tiger went rigid, a cough escaping his maw. She kicked him again.

“Bastards!" She hissed, as he tumbled off the fox, whining sharply, paws clutching his crotch. Maryanne was dead, that was plain enough to see. Nadine kicked Nathan in the head, hearing a crunch.

“What the hell's that?" One of the guards said, sluggishly stirring from his daze. She heard a rifle cock as he came closer, eyes peeled.

Oh, rape and murder, its nap-time. But some big feral gets his nuts kicked in, and suddenly it's weapons? Fuck the code. There was no code, not anymore.

“Who's that?" Nadine called.

“Hoffman!" The lad called, a weird guy, she remembered. He was closest to them now, but the other three were stirring from their torpour, turning to face the commotion. Some of the slaves were watching, but they knew better than to make any noise. “That you Nadine?"

“Aye." She called back. “I'm taking this here girl and going."

“Hold up one, what'd you do to Nate?" Hoffman called. She sighed, watching the lad get closer. His gun was aimed at the dirt, but his body language said he was getting ready to raise it.

“Don't you point that gun at me boy!" She cried.

“What are you doing?" Hoffman asked, rounding the last tent, nothing standing between them now. He stood still, gun held low.

“Who's there?!" Another guard called.

“Hoffman, what's going on?!" The third.

“It's Nadine!" Hoffman shouted. “She kicked the shit outta Nate!"

Nathan coughed and spluttered in the dirt, trying to climb to his paws and slipping on his face.

“Don't you point that gun at me Hoff." Nadine warned again, left paw edging close to her holstered revolver. “C'mon kid, don't do it."

“What're you doin'?" Hoffman asked. She glanced around, the other guards were getting closer now. Soon they'd have nothing obscuring their view, and it would be four guns to one. “Hey Nate, you right there partner?"

“I'm leaving." She answered. “Girl's comin'."

Hoffman frowned. “Now, let's stop all this and--" She drew her revolver and shot him in the head. His skull snapped back and he fell like a stone. The other guards cried out and Alison screamed, but Nadine dropped to a crouch, tossing the gun from her left paw to her right. She jack-knifed, watching the rear-two come by the tents. They each got a shot through the chest as their guns came up. Bodies went down, death in hot blood, no guilt, Curse or not.

No code.

“Holyyy shit, Hoff!" The last one screamed, running to Hoffman's still body. He glanced at Nadine, eyes wide. He was young, he'd panicked, gun wasn't ready.

“Don't."

“You fucking shot him!" The young wolf screamed, paws closing around his rifles grip. He got a bullet through the gut and another through his neck.

One-two.

Breathing heavy, she turned to Alison, who was now staring in silence, jaw hanging wide.

“Get back." Nadine snapped, and the girl shuffled far as she could. The wolverine took aim at the chain, shot once and blew it apart. The girl shook herself free, climbed to her feet, and fell over, the manacles themselves still tight on her wrist. Nadine grabbed her by the arm and tugged her up.

“Don't!" Alison whimpered.

“Stop." She hissed. “All this shooting, whole camp'll be up soon, just listen." She looked at the manacles. “I'm gonna shoot these off, okay Allie?"

“No, what, no!" The fox cried.

Nadine ignored her. “Get back, hold your paws high." She aimed the revolver straight at the girl, who obeyed. She raised it, took a second, then fired. The cheap metal was ripped in two and the locks fell away, exposing her wrists, the fur chafed away from the manacles.

“What do we do?" Alison asked, breathing heavy. “My mum, my ma, oh hell, oh Lords!"

“Don't look, don't." Nadine pulled her to face the other direction. She could hear the camp stirring, not long now. “We gotta go. Straight into those woods, then up. The harder the climb is the better, got it?"

Alison nodded blankly.

“We have to go; all you think about is running! Just keep running if you wanna get out alive." Nadine shoved her forward, and mercifully the fox actually went. At first it was a nervous jog, but she quickly broke into a dead sprint. Nadine went to follow, but went slamming down on her face, a stone suddenly glued to her foot. She thrashed in the dirt, and looked back to see Nathan holding tight to her ankle.

“Stop." He growled, voice surprisingly high. He clawed towards her, and Nadine aimed her gun at his head. His free paw swiped at it and knocked it free, straining her fingers. She hissed, but Nathan's following punch to her groin sucked the wind out of her. “Fun?" He grunted.

“Get. Off!" She snarled, pulling back, cold pain spreading in her abdomen. No time to think. She kicked Nate in the face, aiming for his eye, once, twice. His head snapped back, but he showed no signs of pain. His giant paw was around her knee now, he was still coming, shit, he had a lot of reach. “Sick, bastard!" She roared, kicking as hard as she could for his neck and hitting him right in the soft bit beneath his chin.

He retched; jaw dropping open as no breath came. He released her in shock, and she scrambled through the dirt, finding her revolver and clambering to her feet. Nathan held his neck, wheezing, barely able to breathe.

She stood there, gun trained on his head. He was a damn monster, Beau's latest in a line of twisted protégés, a white devil incapable of pain or remorse.

But, killing a member of the Curse, like this? He's done for, he ain't gonna chase you, not with crushed balls and a neck to match.

The code. The code, the damn code forbade this! Explicitly!

“Fuck that." Nadine whispered, and pulled the trigger.

Click.

Shit.

“Lucky son of a bitch." She hissed, and tossed the gun at his head. She didn't wait around, spinning on her heel and sprinting into the darkness. No supplies, nothing to keep them going, the whole Sultan's Curse thirsty for her blood. The odds were about fair.

She could just make out Alison at the tree line, the slender figure hurriedly pushing through it. She followed suit, quickly gaining on the girl. Alison was moving quick, but Nadine was fit, and she'd had experience running through forests before.

Run, girl, run. Nadine thought, as they clambered over fallen logs and rocks, slipping and sliding in the leaves. The land got steep, fast, and she was at Alison's side in no time.

“Please, get back!" The fox squealed, falling over.

“It's me." The wolverine gasped, yanking the girl to her feet and pushing onward. “We can't stop Allie, keep going, keep running!"

The dip they'd camped in amplified sound, and she could hear the Curse stirring to action. They were slow, sluggish, lazy. Just more proof the old days were as dead as Hoffman. She could hear the confusion, and prayed they didn't guess lucky at following her.

They ran for ages, legs burning, chests heaving, both of the women gasping for air by the end of the run. They slowed, and had made it so far even the long-reaching echoes of camp were left far behind. Nadine felt relief as they pushed free of the trees, coming to a small clearing, the ground finally levelling out. She doubled over, panting, stomach in knots, sure she was about to vomit.

She couldn't believe herself. Killed four members of the Curse, betrayed them all, abandoned it. No way could she go back, even if she'd wanted to.

And she did not want to.

How much changes in just one night, one night that defines your whole damn life? That was the way of it. This is who I am now, ex-Curse. Outlaw among outlaws.

Alison screamed wordlessly into her paws, walking forward. Her cry died out as quickly as it came, her face overtaken with short sobs. “Why is this happening?"

“Quiet," Nadine cautioned, looking around. The girl's voice echoed. It was so damn dark, up here in the high places. Nadine could hear water somewhere, but it seemed both close and far away.

“Ma, that man… Lords. What are we gonna do?" The girl whimpered, going further again. Nadine realised where they were and reached out, grabbing Allie by the scruff of her neck and pulling her back. The girl squealed and fell back on her ass, but it was a great deal better choice than going over the edge of that cliff.

“There's a ledge right there!" Nadine growled, the edges of the soil coming into view as her eyes adjusted to the dark. She blinked, and the shadows pulled even further back. Living near fires had made them shit, but she'd find her way.

“What are we gonna do?" Alison whispered, visibly shaking. “You won't leave me out here, would you? You can't!"

“No, no, don't you worry girl." Nadine whispered. “I ain't gonna leave you. We're gonna go south, y'hear, back the way we came."

“What?!" Allie exclaimed, breaths coming faster as she scrambled to her feet. “No, no we can't go back!"

“Hey, hey calm," The wolverine shushed, trying to remember the eastern geography. “Not back to the camp. I killed four of 'em, and freed you. That's pretty unforgivable for the Curse. We ain't going back, but they'll be hunting me worse'n they do you. We're far to the north of Adderon, the smart choice is to go east, push over into the Umen Province, hide in a town like Paris and book a ride to Eleckton first chance we get."

“Then let's do that!" Alison cried, grabbing Nadine by the arm. “Why not?!"

“No, they'll expect it. We'll get caught, I know these guys." She said firmly. “We go south, slink past them, and into Gaerus. From there we can either find work, or keep going west, hide out in Rarick or Macedon." She left out that there was ten-thousand-dollar bounty on her head in both those provinces, but they'd cross that bridge later. “Maybe south, to Quindon, or even Kallinger…"

“Can we rest first? Do we have to go now? We got away right? I'm so tired, please." Alison whined, tears in her eyes and voice. Nadine shook her head.

“No. We use the stars, find where we are, keep moving. Like I said, the Curse'll want my blood."

“They'll want more'n that." Nadine went still at the familiar drawl, a million spiders crawling down her spine. She heard a twig snap as Beau stepped closer, the hammer on his revolver clicking as he pulled it back. “Don't move none too fast now, Nadine."

But she was done listening to the likes of them. The wolverine stood slow, drawing the one revolver she had left and levelling it at the opossum. He seemed even scarier in the dark. She'd used all her bullets during target practice earlier, but Riddon didn't know that.

“Huh." Beau said, chuckling. “What're you lovely ladies doin' up here?"

“Fixin' to kill you, I reckon." Nadine replied.

“Empty." Nathan said, stepping out from her left. He had nothing in his paws but a length of rope, his white fur almost luminous in the moonlight. “Outta bullets. Noose for the wicked." She bit her lip, how the fuck was he up and moving again?

“You gonna take that chance, Beau?" She asked. He shrugged.

“Look, Naddie," he said. “Nobody need know what happened tonight. You're Isaiah's favourite, and you make me laugh. We can say this bitch wrestled a gun free, and that you and I chased her down."

“Your pet monster killed her mother." Nadine snapped. Beau walked forward, and Nadine circled him, keeping Nathan in view. Alison scrambled back, but like an idiot, she went towards the cliff.

“Didn't mean to." Nathan said.

“Nate's like an overgrown kitten. All muscle, no control." Beau said. “I'm training it out of him. Or tryin'."

“You're evil!" Alison said, and Beau whirled, smacking her across the face. She fell with a cry, holding her cheek.

“Nadine…" Beau whispered. “Don't be stupid." He pointed the gun at Alison, on her knees by his side. “Throw away that cannon. C'mon, over the cliff." She bit her lip.

Beau was a fucking liar if she'd ever seen one, but if he shot Alison then what was the point? There was no other choice.

“You worm." Nadine said, throwing the gun. She waited as it soared over the edge, and didn't even hear it splash. A long damn drop.

“Much better!" Beau said, relaxing.

“You're a feral on two legs Riddon." She spat. “A twisted little bastard, and why? Mummy ain't give you enough lovin'? Or did daddy not hit you enough? Or was it he hit you too much?" The opossum paused, and Nadine worked to twist the knife. “Let me tell you boy, we all know your dirty little secrets; the whole camp knows the filthy things you get up to! You're a disgusting, cowardly worm, and if I don't kill you, someone else's gonna." Beau was shaking, his paws in fists. “We know you like killin' little girls, and little boys too - what a big man, murderin' pups! Think you're so damn smart, better than all of us, hiding it and dancing circles around, well everyone knows WHAT YOU ARE Riddon!"

“You, you don't know anything!" He hissed, placid expression shattering. “Shut your filthy mouth!"

“We know enough." She replied, shaking her head. She needed a plan, she had to stall. “You should hear what Isaiah says about your embarrassments when you're not around. I reckon' maybe the problem with you is yer mummy gave too much hittin', and yer daddy gave you too much lovin'? I got the right of it there, baby Beau? You're foolin' no one."

“You don't know what the fuck you're talking about!" Beau roared, his paws shaking, gun going up to point at Nadine once again.

“That's right, point that thing at me you coward." Nadine whispered.

And then Nathan was behind her, his rope tight around her neck. Nadine choked as the air was crushed out of her, eyes bulging as her feet were lifted off the ground.

“B-Beau! Don't!" She rasped, kicking uselessly. It was like being strapped against a rock wall, Nathan felt so damn immoveable. The opossum was in her face then, spit flying, teeth bared, sour breath hitting her nose.

“You don't know a fucking thing about me, you whore!" He screamed. Nadine felt her throat burning, her body beginning to fight without her say-so. Beau was still shaking, his face screwed up, waving his revolver dementedly. “You think you're so high and bloody mighty with all your damn rules and your code, I can't fucking stand the stink of your arrogance!" Nadine could feel her heartbeat through her whole body, her vision was blurring, and Nathan showed no sign of relaxing. Beau opened his mouth to keep screaming, but at that moment Alison came up behind him and brought a fallen branch straight down on his head. She screamed as he toppled forward, gun thrown wide, stumbling as he clutched at his skull, curses spewing from his lips.

Alison took a step back, frozen in place, jaw wide with shock. Nathan released Nadine almost instantly, and was at the young vixen in two steps. His massive paw closed around her throat and he lifted her clean off the ground. Nadine was on her knees, coughing, spluttering, unable to get any coherent thoughts through her pounding head. She pulled the rope from her neck, heaving as she climbed to her feet. Nathan pulled a fist back, readying to punch the flailing girl, who looked so small and weak in his grip – like a doll.

With a grunt, Nadine flicked the rope up over Nathan's giant head, pulling it firm against his throat. She planted a boot on his ass and yanked hard, lifting herself off the ground and riding the great white monster.

“Alison!" She rasped, as the girl fell, Nate's paws clawing at his constricted windpipe. “Allie, run, just fucking run!" She screamed, pulling even harder. This time the girl didn't hesitate, she clambered to her feet and sprinted to the left, picking a direction at random.

Good girl, damn it.

Nathan stumbled back, Nadine on his back, trying to reach up at her but always an inch shy of the mark. They veered dangerously close to the cliff edge, but with a harder tug on the right side Nadine steered the behemoth clear.

She pulled harder.

“Just."

Pull.

“Fucking."

Pull.

“Die!"

Nathan shook violently, throwing himself head first into a tree. Nadine was slammed against the wood, back seizing as she collided with it, tossed free like a cowboy at a rodeo. She fell in the dirt, rolling over twice.

She picked herself up as quickly as she could. Where the fuck was Beau?

No time for that. She saw Nathan, on one knee, neck free of rope, rubbing at his collar. Nadine pushed herself to her feet, and in some miracle, her paw closed over a cool piece of metal in the grass.

A piece of metal in precisely the same shape as the gun Beau lost earlier.

A few metres from one another, Nathan and Nadine locked eyes, both huffing furiously, each one with teeth gritted so hard it hurt. Nathan stood, shoulders rising and falling with each of his heavy breaths.

Nadine shot him through the stomach.

His body jerked from the impact, but he was otherwise unmoved.

“What the hell are you?" She whispered. He took a step forward. She shot him again.

Two-three.

Each shot forced him back a step, each one pushing him nearer to the cliff edge, two more bloodied holes punched through his chest. He opened his mouth, and made as if he was going to keep coming.

Four-five.

The last two shots took him back, and this time his foot went a stretch too far. Nathan stumbled back onto thin air, and plummeted silently over the edge of the cliff.

She stared in surprise. It seemed unreal. For a minute, she had been certain that Nathan was simply unkillable.

But he was only one half of the evil apple.

Nadine whirled, and saw Beau running after the direction Alison had gone. She raised the gun and fired, the shot slamming into the opossum's left shoulder. He was thrown forward, and stumbled into a tree, blood sprayed across it.

“Don't you fucking move Beau!" She cried.

Was his gun a six-shooter, or an eight? She didn't know. She didn't fucking know, but did he? Had Beau been counting?

“Nadine!" He called, turning, good paw pressed to his bullet wound. “Don't you do this, girl!" He stumbled toward her, and she went back on instinct.

“What about the code?" Beau cried, still coming.

“Don't move!" She hissed. He stopped, barely a metre and a half away, paws up. “Fuck the code, we gave that up a long time ago. No point following liars, and that's all you pack of thieves are good for!" Beau sighed.

“Can I tell you the truth?" He said softly. Nadine took another step back, she glanced behind herself and felt the empty space of the cliff-edge.

Shit.

“The truth is that you're a monster, who kills for the joy of it." She snapped back. He took a very small step toward her. “You're evil."

“You're right. I'm sick." He said, voice suddenly devoid of its usual apathetic mirth. “Wrong in the head. I can't stop. I've always been like this, maybe I was born like it. I don't want to; to do the things I've done… I--"

“I don't care."

“I joined the Curse because of Isaiah's rules!" Beau said, his eyes shining. “I thought maybe, maybe if I had some rules I could get better. I could stop. But Nadine, he just keeps encouraging me!" His shoulders had fallen, and he shuffled slightly closer.

“That doesn't…" She paused. “It doesn't change what you've done." She was shaking now, and she didn't know rightly why. She'd lost so much, in just one night everything had changed.

Her code, Maryanne, the members of the Curse. Her brothers. Hoffman, a good lad, really. Her family. She abandoned them. Isaiah would be crushed when he found out, did he know already?

“How did this happen?" She whispered, to herself.

“Please don't kill me." Beau whimpered, sniffing. “I just… please help me. Please, please Nadine, we'll leave together, and you'll be in charge, to teach me how to stop… I just… I can't…"

Isaiah's code was a lie. The last nine years of her life were a lie. Drugs, slavery, killing. Where did the depravity end? And now this? She was going to fall for another lie? She knew then, that if she believed Beau now, she deserved to die.

Without another thought, she pulled the trigger.

Click.

“Fuck." She said.

Beau's demeanor instantly changed, his shoulders went up and his chest puffed, his pitiful expression shifting to a manic grin. He giggled.

“Dumb bitch."

And then as if it were nothing, he reached out and shoved her chest. Nadine went only one step backwards, but her foot came down on nothing.

Like Nathan, she went over the edge.

Nadine woke to something nipping at her calf. She kicked the limb and heard a squawk as the feral bird flapped madly, taking to the sky. She was blind. No, not blind, it was morning. Everything was so bright, and her eyelids came apart sticky, both with blood and mud.

She coughed, pulling her head out of the cold mud and looking around. Green grass, trees, water lapping at her boots.

“I'm alive?" She croaked, the pains of both the fight and the fall lashing at her. She couldn't believe it.

Slowly, and peppering the actions with curse words, she pushed herself up, glancing around. Behind her was a small but evidently deep lake. Just beyond that was the cliff Beau had pushed her off. It was insane to think she'd fallen from that, and lived. Maybe there were a few Lords looking out for her after all.

The whole previous night felt like some kind of fever dream. Isaiah making deals to sell Sleep from some death cult, Beau and his pet monster, Nadine killing four members of her own damn family.

Maryanne. Alison.

Alison on her own, running through the forest.

“I hope you make it girl." She whispered. No way Beau would have found her after all that. Nadine had given her the plan, to go hard, and to slip past the Curse. It might even be a whit easier on her own, especially if the gang thought Nadine was dead. They might just give up.

No man asks more'n his share. No man does harm to those named brother. A man makes no more violence than need be. Guns for the righteous, knives for the dirty, noose for the wicked.

She put a paw to her neck, and wanted to laugh. None came, her throat was as raw as it was dry.

Nathan's body laid a few metres away; his pure-white fur marred with black mud and bullet wounds. He showed no movement, a tapestry of red-stained exit wounds crisscrossing his back.

“What now?" She coughed, looking about. She couldn't stay in Hildeburg, that was for damn sure. The west had bounties in every province, the north had the Curse.

South? Nadine nodded, feeling more sure of herself as she stood, resounding to go somewhere boring, somewhere flat, definitely somewhere far from any more fucking cliffs.

She found south-east, and started walking, a surprising amount of optimism in her mind, despite the screaming agony in her body. She was almost looking forward to building a new life.

After all, nothing exciting ever happened in a place like Vellem.