A Change of Heart

“Come again?” Curtis inquired. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and temples, surely from the fire, he thought. Sly straightened himself and took a deep breath.

“I want to join you,” Sly repeated. He raised his hands slightly—Curtis flinched at the gesture. “I know we’ve been at each other’s throats these past few days,” he said.

“No,” Curtis interjected. “You’ve been at my throat. I didn’t want any trouble in Sunnyville, and I sure didn’t want anything to do with you in Coyote Run.”

“Okay, okay,” Sly admitted. “Listen, it’s my job as a Ranger to deal with Outlaws, such as yourself. But, hey, I’ve had a change of heart. I swear, see?” Sly slowly drew his seven-shot revolvers from their holsters, making it obvious that his fingers were off the triggers, and laid them at his feet. He took a step over the guns as Curtis lowered his weapon, and met the Outlaw at his fire.

Curtis instructed Mabel to retrieve Sly’s revolvers as the Outlaw and Ranger sat across from each other with the fire between them. Mabel hesitated.

“You want me to pick up the guns?” she confirmed. “Those are fully loaded weapons, right?”

“You bet your little heinie they are,” Sly stated. “The hammers aren’t pulled, though, if it makes you feel better.” Mabel inched her way closer to the firearms and collected them. Curtis fumbled in his satchel for some of the rations he purchased at Coyote Run and handed one to Mabel.

“You wanna join me?” Curtis asked. “I assume you mean travel with me and work together in some way.”

“That’s right,” Sly said. Curtis thought for a moment and took a bite of his prepacked meal.

“Yeah, okay,” he mumbled. “Yeah, I guess you can tag along.” Mabel’s jaw dropped.

“Woah, woah, woah,” she exclaimed, quite confused. “You just said this guy’s been tryin’ to kill you these last few days. I saw him pursuin’ you myself! Now yer just gonna let him tag along with us?”

Not like I wanted you either, Curtis thought. “I’ve been backstabbed and double crossed enough times to know when someone’s hidin’ somethin’. I can tell Sly’s bein’ genuine. He’s done huntin’ this cowboy.” He took another bite of his food.

Mabel eyed Sly across the fire. Her attention darted back to Curtis. “But wait a minute!” she barked. “You were reluctant to take me on as a subordinate—There she goes with the big words again, Curtis thought—but you’re willin’ to take on your former enemy so easily?”

Curtis sighed. “Look, I figure if I already have you around, I might as well make a band of it. I won’t get to be alone from now on anyway.”

Sly’s expression was also one of surprise. “I honestly thought it would take more convincing, too. I mean, I had a whole explanation for why I wanted to team up and everything!” He almost sounded disappointed that he didn’t get to explain.

“We have all night,” Curtis said, tossing a ration to Sly. “What’s your grand plan, Ranger?”

“Well,” Sly started, “I have a couple of ideas in mind. I still plan to reestablish myself as a big shot, preferably in the Big City. So, I figured I could ride along with you and bag any other Outlaws we might face on our journey.”

Our journey, Curtis thought with an internal chuckle.

“I figured you wouldn’t care about anyone else going to jail. Outlaws don’t really care for one another most of the time, right?”

“I tend to avoid other Outlaws when I can,” Curtis said, finishing his food. “Hard to trust other c rooks.”

“Right! So, I come along with you, making sure to lay low so as not to associate my image with you, and I turn in other bad guys that might give you trouble. We could split the bounties, of course. Then, after a few arrests, I’m out of your hair and get to return to my high status in the Big City! What do you say?”

“Dumbest idea I’ve ever heard,” Mabel said. Curtis smacked the back of her head lightly. Mabel groaned.

“Eat your damn food, child,” Curtis scolded. “You’re lucky I’m even sharin’ with ya.” He turned his focus back to Sly. “It would be rather risky, though. People would probably recognize at least one of us as soon as we picked a fight with another Outlaw. How would you explain it other officers if they saw us in cahoots?”

“I’m not too sure,” Sly admitted. “That’s why I have a back up plan. Instead of getting my life back in the Big City, I could make a new name for myself as an Outlaw. I understand it’s a tough life, but I’m sure I could still make it big!”

Curtis chuckled. “You do realize you don’t get paid for bein’ an Outlaw, right?”

“Of course not!” Sly laughed. “But if we go after other Outlaws with bounties like yours, we’d be in business. Ten gold is a lot of money.”

Mabel choked on her food. She took a deep breath and shouted, “Ten gold!?” Curtis rolled his eyes. “Yer bounty is 10 gold? That’s more money than I’ve ever seen in my life—than I’ll ever see! Only the government deals in gold; what’d you do to git such a target on yer back?”

“We’re not talkin’ about this right now,” Curtis asserted.

“Not to brag or anything,” Sly said, “but I used to live in a house worth 100 times that in the Big City.” Mabel’s eyes looked as though they would pop from their sockets. Such funds were completely unimaginable in her mind.

“What the hell, Sly?” Curtis groaned. “What did you do to lose all that?”

Sly retreated into his meal. “I…don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Fair enough,” Curtis sighed. The three sat silently for a little while as Mabel and Sly finished their suppers. Mabel was still visibly dumbfounded by the wealth surrounding her. As Curtis wrapped up the dinnerware and rinsed them with some water he boiled while they ate, his steed approached the group and huffed. Curtis stood and rubbed its neck and whispered to it. Mabel giggled.

“I wonder if ‘e heard yer comment about bein’ alone earlier,” she teased. “He’s been by yer side for a while, if I had to guess.”

“What’s his name?” Sly wondered aloud.

“It doesn’t have a name,” Curtis said, still gently petting the horse.

“What?” Sly said, shaking his head. “You never named your horse? That’s cruel.”

“Oh, oh, can we name it now?” Mabel wished. “Is it a he or a she?”

Curtis thought for a moment. “I don’t really know, I guess,” he said.

“Well, it’s not hard to find out,” Sly chuckled. “Let’s take a peek.”

“I know how to tell a boy from a girl,” Curtis replied, annoyed. “I know what to look for.” He moved his hand down the horses back and continued petting. “You know about it, though, Sly. This ain’t an ordinary horse.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Sly said. “You might as well show it to us since we’ll be traveling together.” Curtis exhaled calmly and began undoing the horse’s garments. The horse’s silvery exterior glistened in the firelight; it huffed the cool desert air. Sly stared with a stern curiosity while Mabel’s gaze was one of astonishment. Curtis rubbed the horse’s cheeks and nose. The horse continued huffing into his hand and shook its head playfully.

“Well, I’ll be…” Sly let out. “I thought I was seeing things. I pondered if maybe you had specially crafted gear for it or something, like fitted armor, but this is even more unusual.” Mabel inched closer and the horse jerked its eyes in her direction. Mabel jumped but stood her ground. The glassy marbles that resembled real eyes were dark, almost creepy, but they had a depth to them as if they were genuine.

“He won’t hurt ya,” Curtis reassured her. He held out a hand. “You were ridin’ it just fine earlier.”

“I didn’t know it was…well…what is it exactly?” she questioned. Sly awaited an answer, as well.

“It’s exactly what it looks like,” Curtis said. “A horse entirely made of metal. Some sort of complex machine, I suppose, but it definitely acts like a real horse. Not scared of bullets though.” He glanced at Sly who replied with a nod and a smile.

“It also can’t swim; it’s too heavy. Gotta be careful when riding on softer sand, too. It tends to sink in and get sand all in its joints. But as long as I keep it clean and oiled up from time to time, it doesn’t require food or water and can carry heavy loads.” The horse nodded as if it understood what Curtis was saying. Mabel was petting the side of its torso then.

“Where’d you find it?” Mabel asked.

“Another good question,” Sly added.

“It was given to me,” Curtis said, his hat low so the glow of the fire didn’t reach his face. “As a gift, I guess.”

“From who?” the girl continued.

“Well,” Curtis said, thinking. “I can’t really say for sure. I never knew his real name. I lived on his farm for a few years and the only thing I knew to call him was ‘Midnight.’ He was an Outlaw, but I didn’t know that until after he disappeared.”

“And now you’re looking for him.” Sly stated. Curtis raised his eyes a bit to meet Sly’s. “I talked to the owner of that Saloon in Sunnyville after you left.”

“That’s who you were talkin’ ‘bout earlier?” Mabel asked. Curtis nodded slightly.

“I really can’t tell you much about him.” Curtis removed the wanted poster of Midnight from his pocket and handed it to Sly.

“I’ve heard of him,” Sly said. “But I couldn’t tell you anything. He was never any of my concern.”

“In my years of helping him around the farm, I didn’t get to know him very well. Then, one day, he just up and left. Left this horse behind in his barn, but nothing else. I just want some answers.”

“How did you meet the guy?” Mabel inquired.

“He took me off the streets when I was a younger lad,” Curtis said. “Older than you, though. I lived with him for about four years. I didn’t really know what to do after he left, so I abandoned the empty ranch and wandered around for about a year-and-a-half ‘til I could confidently make it on my own, then I set out trying to find ‘im. Obviously, in that time, things got a little complicated and I made a few bad decisions—really bad, he thought—and accrued quite the bounty for myself.

“I have these dreams, though, about life back on the ranch. Nothing new to me, but I only started having them after beginning my search, so I’m hopin’ they might lead me somewhere one of these days. Otherwise, I decided it’d be best just to start south and make my way northward through the Valley Strip, followin’ any leads I get. Nothing so far.”

“The ranch was in Dry Creek, right?” Sly asked. Curtis nodded, understanding that was more information Sly had been told as a Ranger. “Have you tried going back there?”

Curtis shook his head. “Not yet. It’s right outside the Big City, so anyone keepin’ an eye out for high profile Outlaws like me would notice me right away. I reckon Midnight’s probably stayin’ away, too, for the same reason. We’ll make it there eventually, though, if we keep heading north town by town.”

“So, you’ve accrued a bounty,” Mabel began. Curtis noticed her use of the word he said earlier. Mabel continued, “equal to 10,000 dimes over the span of 18 months?” She lowered her hand from the horse and looked at her feet. “Sorry,” she said. “You said not to talk about it.”

“If you think that’s high,” Sly snorted, “come check out what Midnight is worth.”

Mabel stepped away from the horse and to the other side of the fire where Sly sat. She took the poster from him and nearly ejected her eyeballs from her head when she read the text.

“Midnight”

Wanted: DEAD or ALIVE

Reward: 500 G

Mabel blinked quickly, making sure she was reading it right. She swallowed deeply and exhaled. “His bounty is 500,000 dimes!?” She couldn’t help but yell. “That would almost be enough to put you right back where you were in the Big City!” she said to Sly who smiled proudly. She faced Curtis, exclaiming, “You lived with who has to be the most wanted criminal in whole Valley, no, the world!”

Curtis shrugged. “Like I said, I didn’t know. He was a nice guy; very kind eyes. Taught me how to survive by my lonesome.”

Mabel looked at Sly hoping he could confirm her next statement. “This has to be the highest bounty on anyone ever, right?”

Sly pursed his lips. “Yeah, probably. Definitely the highest I ever knew about.”

Mabel’s hands shivered and wrinkled the edges of the paper under her fingers as it vibrated in her grip. “I can’t imagine the atrocious things someone would have to do to have such a big reward attached to their arrest.” Her voice was shaky.

“I’m just impressed you can read, a girl your age,” Curtis said. “Though, I shouldn’t be surprised since you know such big words,” he teased. “Big numbers, too.”

“You don’t get a bounty that high just by doing crimes,” Sly said. “I’m sure Dawn knows exactly what I mean.”

That was the first time Sly had referred to Curtis directly by name since he arrived at their camp, and Curtis was unsure how to feel about the Ranger using his alias, but didn’t correct him. Mabel looked at Curtis with a curious expression. Curtis did know and convinced himself that he should share the information with his so-called band.

“Yeah,” he started. “There’s something else that can boost your bounty by quite a lot if the government is interested in it. You’re referring to Spells, right Sly?”

Sly nodded. “Yep. I bet this Midnight guy had quite the power.”

Mabel was confused. “Wait, power? Spell? What do you mean? Don’t tell me this Outlaw was a magician or somethin’.”

“Street performers have nothing on Spells,” Curtis scoffed. “They’re like magic, I guess, but real. Special abilities that some people have which they can often use to their benefit, whether that means by harming others, or maybe helping them. Obviously, an Outlaw with a Spell is big trouble to the government, so their bounty receives a major boost.”

“So, what kind of Spell did Midnight have?” Mabel asked.

“I don’t know,” Curtis frowned. “But he taught me everything I know about mine.”

Mabel was stunned to learn that Curtis possessed some sort of magic ability. Sly grinned. “I knew it,” he said. “I could tell you weren’t trouble enough to warrant such a high bounty unless you had a Spell.” Mabel seemed light on her heels as she questioned Curtis about his power. Of course, Sly wished to know, as well.

“It’s really nothing special,” Curtis said. “I don’t know why the government is so interested in it.”

“Well spill the beans,” Sly pushed.

Curtis sighed and hesitated as if he was a bit embarrassed about his lackluster abilities. “All I can do is, well, you could say I can compel someone into a duel. That is, make them face off against me in a fair one-on-one match of some kind whether that be a bet of some kind, a fight, whatever.”

Sly nodded slowly. “So that’s what it was. The sheriff in Sunnyville wasn’t just being a fool, then. You used your Spell on him.”

“And that gambler in Coyote Run,” Mabel added. “The one who bet you his room key an’ lost, even after denyin’ your initial request for one last game.”

Curtis nodded to both situations. “Convenient, sure,” he said taking his seat back at the fire. “But nothin’ extraordinary like some I’ve seen or heard about before.”

“The mystery of it is probably what’s boosted your bounty so much,” Sly guessed. “I hadn’t been told anything about it back at the Ranger Headquarters. Just that you probably had one.”

“Midnight taught me how to use it and I’ve pretty much mastered the technique by now. The cooldown is killer, though. If I try and use the power more than once every eight hours or so, I black out completely and sleep for a whole day, at least.”

“I didn’t know Spells had such a toll on their users,” Sly said. “Once every eight hours seems like a little much for such a simple power; the punishment for overuse, too.”

“It’s kinda like a muscle, I guess,” Curtis explained. “That’s how Midnight described it. The more you use it, the harder it gets until you rest. I think some Spells have less of an impact on the user than others; I just happened to get stuck with a pretty cruddy recoil.”

“That’s so cool,” Mabel mumbled, her gaze focused on the fire and Midnight’s flier dangling in her fingers. She had sat back down too and pressed her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them tightly. “I wish I had a Spell.”

Curtis huffed. “You want a 10,000-dime bounty on your head?” Mabel grumbled to the fire.

The conversation dwindled from there and soon the party turned in for the night. Curtis was the only one with a knapsack, but offered his poncho as a blanket to Mabel. Sly propped himself against a large stone near their camp. For the umpteenth night in a row, Curtis had a dream about Midnight.

Curtis was twenty and had been living on the ranch for about a year; he was still called Arthur Ray at the time. The dream started hazy and all he could make out was Midnight entering his room in the middle of the night. The man was silhouetted by the darkness, but Arthur could see a something glowing in his fist. He sat by Arthur’s head and squeezed whatever was in his hand. Arthur heard a cracking sound before Midnight began to let glowing dust sprinkle from his hand and onto Arthur’s face.

The young man breathed it in slowly as Midnight rubbed his head and told him, “This’ll only take a moment.” Suddenly, Arthur’s drowsiness vanished as he felt a surge of pain sourced from his sinuses. His body recoiled and he arched his back. Midnight held his shoulders down, but Arthur kicked and gasped. He couldn’t breathe and felt like he was going to faint from shock. His concentration was entirely on staying conscious and aware of his surroundings.

Midnight continued comforting him, saying, “It’ll be all right, son,” and “Just let it pass.” Time felt slowed, but in reality, Arthur hadn’t realized just how much time had passed before the pain subsided. Midnight told him after that he was struggling for over an hour—Arthur felt it was both the slowest and fastest hour of his life. The dream faded to a daytime scene of Midnight training Arthur to use his Spell. The two of them were out in the field and Midnight instructed Arthur to use his Spell on him.

In the earlier days of training, Midnight didn’t resist. He let Arthur get used to the technique, but later started pushing back. Arthur found out that if someone knew the Spell was in use, they could break free from the charm quite easily. Likewise, it was harder to compel someone who knew the Spell was coming. Midnight pushed Arthur hard. He made the young man use his Spell as frequently as possible, even if it meant Arthur would black out for hours or days at a time.

Midnight would begin training right away again after Arthur awoke from his short comas which would only result in more comas after only a single use, and they would last longer. Arthur got used to it over time, but the training was tough to endure. Eventually, though, it became easier and he started to master his power. It was then that Midnight gave him his new name, Curtis Conrad, and told him to keep his past a secret from others—the power, too.

The dream didn’t give Curtis any sign of where Midnight might have gone or where he could be currently, but he enjoyed revisiting his memories from the ranch. After that, Curtis slept soundly until morning.

To be continued…