Chapter Text
The quiet time between the absolute dark of night and the first rays of the rising sun was arguably, the time of day in which Gideon slept the heaviest. The prowling night hunters had already finished their business on the open plains and slunk back to their hidey-holes in the trees and beneath the rocks. Meanwhile, the early risers like the cocks hadn’t yet roused from their rest.
Much like Gideon.
Unless her fuckin god-damned cousin was around.
“Get up, we’re heading out.”
Silence followed the command and an impatient grunt filled the quiet morning air.
“Get up, ya fuckin’ layabout, we got shit to do!” A hard kick with a boot into Gideon’s shoulder accompanied the gruff bark.
“Fuck off,” Gideon shoved at the boot without opening her eyes, much less pulling her hat up off her face.
“We’re leaving, Gid,” another voice called, more patient but no less gruff. She groaned into her hat before reaching up and dragging it down to her chest and squinting into the deep blue of early morning. The nearby fire had burned down to glowing red embers in a pile of ash, but it was dark enough that even that faint glow let her see the forms of Pash and Pyrrha moving about.
“Where’s the fire?” she grumbled, sitting up and letting out a jaw-cracking yawn before slipping her hat on her head and stumbling to her feet.
“We need to be in town just after daybreak if I’m gonna meet with this contact,” Pyrrha grunted, not looking up from where she was tightening her horse's saddle.
“So get your ass moving,” Pash griped at her and Gideon flipped her off as she wandered off toward the brush.
“Yeah, yeah, lemme at least take a piss before you start trying to kick it out of me,” she mumbled under her breath. She didn’t need to see Pash to know she was rolling her eyes.
When she came back, the majority of their meager camp had already been rolled up and stored saddleside.
Her horse was already saddled up and Pyrrha was holding her reins.
“Let’s go, Gid.” Pyrrha jerked her head and she nodded tiredly, stopping just long enough to kick the dirt and ashes over the smoldering embers of their fire. Once she was sure it was smothered, she took the reins and hauled herself up into the saddle with a grunt. Sunshine nickered and shook her head but Gideon leaned forward and ran a soothing hand down the side of that broad and muscled neck, murmuring soft words.
“It’s alright, sweetheart, I know. What’s it take to get a good night's rest around here?” she asked and the horse snorted in response.
“Please, you've been sawing fucking logs since we made camp last night before the damn sun even went down!” Pash’s voice cut through the darkness.
“That's what night is for, dumbass!” Gideon snapped back, still patting her horse’s neck.
“Both of ya hush up. It’s too early for your bullshit,” Pyrhha grunted and even behind her, in the dark, Gideon could hear the telltale signs of the older woman digging her tobacco tin and rolling papers out of the pocket of her vest and popping it open with a quiet metal clink. She huffed and adjusted her hat but neither of the younger women said another word as they followed across the late-August-scorched earth. Their horses kicked up dead grass and dust as they trotted along toward the east, growing steadily brighter.
Gideon winced as the first, red rays of dawn peeked over the distant horizon and shone into her eyes. She reached up and pulled her hat farther down to shield herself from its blinding light. It was the least of her problems right now but at least it was one she could do something about. She was already sweating beneath the coarse fabric of her button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled up as far over her biceps as the fabric would let them go. She vaguely recalled that it had once been white but now it was streaked with the grime and grit of hard living, desert sands, and the sweat of both honest and… less honest work. She would take her vest off if she thought for a second it would do anything to help the ever-rising heat. Instead, she just wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her arm, grabbed her canteen hanging from the horn of her saddle, and took a long chug. She’d normally be more concerned with conserving it but if Pyrrha was right, and she usually was, they would be hitting town soon enough.
“There it is,” Pyrrha called about an hour later, making Gideon look up from carelessly spinning the barrel of her revolver with her finger. Sure enough, there was a familiar smudge of buildings on the horizon and Gideon perked, stuffing her peacemaker back into its holster.
“Finally!” She squeezed her heels into Sunshine’s sides and then they were galloping across the dusty plain.
“Gideon!” Pash was yelling at her back but she was already nearly out of earshot between the pounding of Sunshine’s hooves in the dirt and the rattle of her bags. The town steadily grew larger and larger until she was jerking back on the reins just outside of town. An old and decrepit sign stood near the trodden dirt path. Its white letter faded and worn with wind and time.
‘Town of Drearburh’
‘Est. 1845’
Even from here, a good quarter mile outside of town, she could see people moving about in the early morning light before the real heat of the day set in. How long had it been since she’d set foot in a saloon? An inn? Way too damn long. Gideon was no wilting flower, but sometimes a woman craved the finer things in life.
“Damn it, kid, pull your bandana up!” Pyrrha snapped as she and Pash finally caught up.
“Come on, Ma. We’re not even in town yet!” Gideon threw up her hand and turned to face Pyrrha.
“Don’t matter, people are passing by at all times of the day. Hat on, bandana up.” She wasn’t asking and Gideon sighed but did as she was told, pulling the old, tattered red bandana up over her nose and tugging her hat down low, making sure the majority of her vibrant and memorable hair was covered.
“You too,” the old gunslinger turned to Pash, who was already pulling the scrap of cloth up over her face without a word. Her faded, tan hat was pulled low enough that it nearly hid her eyes. “Let’s go.” Pyrrha nodded, tapping her boots into the broad sides of her brown and white speckled gelding and spurring it along the path, Gideon and Pash followed in obedient silence
The center of town was already bustling with people hurrying here and there, yelling and hollering across the dusty road that split the town in two. A couple of wagons meandered along the old ruts in the dirt but more interesting than that were the fancy-ass coaches parked in the alleys between a few of the buildings. All smooth, fancy wood and shiny lacquer. It was a small town, maybe ten whole buildings of old, dark wood and metal, but it was the busiest town Gideon could remember in recent memory. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere, dragging along crates, barrels, and trunks full of who knew what.
Gideon’s head was on a swivel, taking in all the sounds and smells of town she had longed for after so long. She never realized how much she could miss people who weren’t her cousin and Pyrrha. Her eyes fell on the local saloon.
Like women….
Her eyes were glued to the saloon doors, where standing just outside, on the front steps, fanning herself with a violet hand fan, was the most voluptuous blonde Gideon had ever laid her eyes on. Her white cotton shirt had several buttons popped open and her skirts were an eye-catching violet, lacking the usual petticoat, letting the fabric hang over her hips and legs.
Gideon wasn’t sure she had blinked for a full ten seconds when a hand smacked her upside the back of the head, nearly sending her hat careening off her head.
“Pay attention,” Pash hissed, jerking quickly out of the way before Gideon could punch her or that ill-tempered horse of hers could bite her.
“Shit-heel,” Gideon griped, while Sunshine knickered.
“Enough. We’re here.” Pyrrha’s voice made them both look up and stop just behind the gelding. They stood in the long shadow of a tall building near the center of town.
“The bank?” Pash questioned and Pyrrha nodded, slinging a leg off the saddle and hopping down. Gideon and Pash followed suit, walking their horses up to the hitching post tying them up.
“Who is this contact supposed to be?” Gideon asked. Pyrrha had been tight-lipped about the whole reason they had come all this way from where they had been hiding out in Louisiana. Pyrhha was tight-lipped about damn near everything though.
“Don’t worry about that.” Pyrrha turned and faced them with a frown. “I’m going in to talk with them… alone,” she said before either one could protest. “The two of you just need to stay out of trouble.” Her eyes slid to Gideon, who scoffed.
“Why are you lookin' at me!?” she pressed a hand to her chest. Pyrrha rolled her eyes and Pash muttered something unintelligible under her breath from beside her.
“Go find somewhere to lay low while I do this,” Pyrrha said.
“Like... the saloon?” Gideon was asking before Pyrrha had barely finished speaking, her mind still on the blonde she’d seen.
“I don’t care where you go, just stay out of trouble,” was the aggravated answer before she spun on heel and walked up the steps, and disappeared inside the building.
“Saloon?” Gideon turned to her cousin, who sighed but nodded and Gideon gave a mental cheer of victory.
Her excitement was short-lived when they approached the saloon and the blonde was nowhere in sight. Gideon frowned, tipping her hat up and looking around for a flash of violet or golden blonde tresses but there was neither. She held out hope as they climbed the creaky wooden steps and moved through the swinging doors. Another cursory glance yielded nothing and Gideon frowned.
“C’mon, let's get a drink,” Pash moved through the crowded room, heedless of her cousin's horny disappointment as she followed her, pulling their bandanas back down around their necks.
The inside of the saloon was just as busy as the rest of the town, full of people talking loudly and moving constantly. No one paid them any mind as they sidled up to the bar. Pash flagged down the barkeep and soon enough, they were sucking down what Gideon could only describe as pisswater in the dark corner of the saloon, shadowed by the stairs. Still, a drink was a drink and she chugged half of it down just as Pash finished throwing it all back, letting her glass slap back down against the chipped and dented wood of their table with a content sigh.
“How do you think this contact of Pyrrha’s is gonna be able to help us?” she asked, glancing at Gideon only after having a long look around the bar for anyone who might be standing even a little too close. Gideon took another long gulp and wiped her mouth with the back of her arm before she answered.
“Hell if I know. Maybe they have ties with the marshall?” she offered and Pash hummed glancing at her empty glass pensively. “Maybe they're a killer for hire?” Gideon said with a smirk. Her cousin scoffed and shot her a look.
“Be serious. If we don't do something about this soon, we're both going to end up swinging,” she grumbled and stood, making her way back to the bar for another drink. Gideon stared hard down at the table.
Gideon frowned, her hand fisted around the glass tightened till her grip was white-knuckle. Her gaze stayed on the wood, staring but not seeing its litany of chips as she chewed on those words. She hardly noticed when Pash came back and started drinking.
“I gotta take a piss,” was all Pash said as she set her already half-empty glass back down on the bar and wound her way through the crowd. The moment she was out of sight, Gideon slammed back the rest of her drink and dug through her pocket for a dime. She flipped it off her thumb to the bar where it flew over the intended mark and landed with a quiet plink in some passed-out drunkard's drink. With a scowl, she turned and made a beeline for the door. She didn’t care where the blonde had gone at this point. She needed some air. She pulled her bandana back up over her face.
She pushed her way out of the saloon and down the steps, not with any real destination in mind. She found herself wandering through town, hat pulled low over her face, less to hide it and more just to keep the beating sun off it. She turned the corner and found herself standing in front of the jail. She froze and glanced around. No lawmen in sight and no one was looking at her. She ran a tongue over her lips and had another glance around before climbing the steps and heading straight for the wall plastered in posters.
She scanned them, hope rising in her gut, only to come crashing back down when her eyes landed on her cousin’s name.
Wanted
Dead or Alive
‘Patricia ‘Our Lady of the Passion’ Stevenson’
For aiding and abetting the escape of the condemned.
Gideon glared hard at the poster and after looking around and making sure no one was looking, reached out and ripped it off the wall with one quick swipe, then shoved the crumpled paper into her pocket. Her eyes continued to scan the board and soon found herself staring back at her.
Wanted
Dead or Alive
Gideon ‘Matchstick’ Nav
For Murder
She scowled hotly at the poster, her stomach twisting up in knots.
Murder.
She squeezed her eyes shut tight and forced herself to take a deep breath, just like Pyrrha had taught her, and let it out nice and slow. She did this a few more times before she felt ready to open her eyes again. She ripped this one off the wall as well, shoving it into her pocket with the other, and then stepped back.
The jingle of spurs made her jerk her head to the side and standing not more than spitting distance from her was a grizzled old man with a revolver hanging from his hip. A flash of light on the bronze star pinned to the front of his shirt made Gideon’s whole body taut with apprehension.
“Ya a bounty hunter?” he asked, looking at her. Then, his eyes narrowed, blinking slowly before some form of recognition came over his face.
Gideon made an about-face and walked quickly across the building's porch.
“Hey, you…!”
She took off running as he shouted at her back.
“Fuck!” She bit out, turning the corner and sprinting down the alley. She could hear him somewhere behind her and dashed around another corner, barely dodging the wagon coming down the road. Her boots thumped hard against the packed earth and she bobbed and weaved between buildings and people. The shouting voice was getting more and more distant but Gideon never slowed. Sweat was dripping down her face and in all kinds of other, unpleasant places for it to be but she never stopped.
Pyrrha and Pash were gonna fucking kill her. Not only did she not ‘stay out of trouble’ she was being chased by the fuckin sheriff.
She had run clear to the other side of town when she finally looked over her shoulder and found no one. She smirked to herself, turning back around.
Cl-ang!
She never saw the low-hanging metal sign till she’d run face-first into it.
Her back hit the dirt with a heavy thud.
She could taste metal.
Then it was dark.