“What a damn mess,” Gutierrez said.

I stared down at Ace, honestly wondering what to do next. My hand slid toward my pocket, toward the mirror where I could talk to Shar. Wanting to go to her… That’s how desperate I was for direction. How thrown my game I was.

Explosions caught my attention, coming from the direction of Dufaux's place. Actually, they were more like pops.

Blue and red and gold, lighting the sky in brilliant, bright light.

Fireworks. At least, that's what it looked like.

My gaze—and everyone else's—was drawn upward. Bursts of brilliant blue shimmered and sparkled, interspersed with soaring trails of red, almost like flame. It was a truly stunning sight. Only, it was still light out—not a time for fireworks unless Dufaux truly enjoyed wasting money.

And in that light, I saw it. Darting in and out of the lines of flame was the tiny silhouette of a bird.

"Keep an eye on him," I said to the group. "And never trust a word he says."

I went to move, but Dale stopped me. "You can't leave. We got one."

"He isn't a part of the trio. Never was."

"What are you talking about?" Gutierrez said. "You saw him back there!"

"It wasn't him."

Cecil scratched his chin, wincing as he forgot his injury. "No weird ice bombs. No axe woman."

"Right. So just watch him!"

I took off at a sprint. There wasn’t even time to whistle for Timp since she was way back at Rosa’s camp. Checking my ammo along the way, I made sure I was loaded up with silver. I tore through a canvas tent and blew by a dozen other stands that were slowly being reoccupied. Then I scurried up some rocks until Dufaux's mansion was in view.

As I cleared the old part of town where the shanty homes were and his walled-in estate grew closer, Cecil called out from behind me.

"Get on!" he shouted. I turned, and he stretched a hand out to me. Grabbing mine, he yanked me up onto the back of his horse. Couldn’t remember the last time I rode one that wasn’t Timperina.

"Fireworks weren't scheduled until the gala tonight," Cecil told me.

"What the hell's going on?" I asked.

"I don't know, but you're right. That crew was new."

The light show was still going on when we reached the estate. We slid off the horse and made for the gate, which was wide open. Dufaux's yard was teeming with guests who’d either arrived recently or fled the festival grounds earlier. Women wearing prim dresses and carrying ornamental umbrellas, men in fine suits and tuxedos.

"He's still having his party?" I said, incredulous.

Dufaux's native employees were everywhere, quickly setting up the tables and drinks for a party meant to be in the evening, but forced to start sooner, thanks to the chaos in town. There were a few guards, sure, but with everyone down dealing with Ace and the botched bank robbery, it was just a ragtag bunch.

"For the more… distinguished guests, yeah," Cecil said. "He always does, while the rabble carouse down below."

“The whole town is being torn asunder.”

Cecil turned to me and shrugged. "We got people up here as soon as the robbery started. Then Dufaux convinced them it was a show for the lowly folks and invited more in early. What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know. That this is a dream? A nightmare even.”

"Mr. Dufaux trusted me to handle things in town. He's got a reputation to uphold, and he pays me to listen." The words left his mouth, but he didn't seem overly convinced by them himself.

I shook my head. “Is the money really enough?”

Cecil didn’t answer. And right or wrong, it wasn't wrong. These walls were the safest place in the town, probably in the whole region. Dufaux couldn't just turn frightened guests with fat wallets away. But he shouldn't have been entertaining in the first place with the whole damn region on alert. Shouldn't have been having any of this.

Everyone stared up at the light show. Fiery embers wafted down over them and flitted across the yard to the gold mine in the back. Not embers. Saints and elders, it was burning shreds of green paper. The flames made it difficult to tell, but now that it was closer, I saw the hawk clinging onto a burning bag of cash, tracing fiery lines across the sky. Greenbacks fluttered in a long stream behind it.

Another bit of blue went off to a chorus of "oohs" and "aahs."

"He's really outdone himself this year," said some prig in a bowler hat.

“A bit early though,” said a woman.

Brilliant sparkles rained down, and I felt like I was in one of those novelty globes that you shake, and bits of snow swirls around like some winter wonderland. That was when I noticed a woman in a sleeveless dress rub her arms like she was chilly even though it was daytime. How could these people think this was planned?

"Hey, you can't just run in!" one of the guards barked as I pushed by an old couple, through the gate and into the yard. He stopped chasing me when he saw Cecil with me.

A few guests yelped in fright at our haste. Then, skidding to a stop by the middle of the yard, I saw frost crackling around the edges of Dufaux's diamond-shaped pools. The bird fountain seemed to be slogging to a halt as well.

The outlaws were already here. This was it. This was their plan. Ace would distract the town’s defenses while the Frozen Trio enacted their true crime.

From across the yard, a confused look Dufaux—clearly trying to look in control—lumbered through the crowd toward us. Everyone got out of his way, or they may as well have been trampled by a bull. His dark, double-breasted suit was exquisite. As was the top hat sitting atop his head.

One look at Dufaux's big smug face, and I handled things on my own. I pulled one of my Peacemakers and aimed up at the sky, firing off three succinct shots, waste of silver or not. Dale was far off, but I hoped he'd recognize the strategy.

Dufaux hollered something while I reloaded, but he was instantly drowned out by his guests panicking. People were ducking and screaming and shoving and tossing others aside with reckless abandon. It was a fine showing of how self-absorbed these types were. To their credit, some husbands covered their wives or mistresses, but most were cowards, stuck on their own. Someone even dove into the pool.

Must've been a shock when he felt its temperature.

I spun around.

One native woman didn't act like the others at all. She wore the garb of Dufaux's housemaids, with her long black hair tied in a bun. Only she wasn't looking at me.

I followed her sightline to a young man standing on Dufaux's Spanish-tiled roof. The Mind-drifter. He, too, was dressed like the help. Only, he had bags of money piled all around him. The hawk circled above him, still carrying a burning sack of cash.

"Dufaux!" he called out, his voice thick with accent. "A gift, from Revelation's true founder!"

The young man spread his arms and threw back his head. He moved the arm I’d shot him in back in Elkhart and winced. I could imagine the fetid wound festering under his clothing. Things like that didn't heal well around here without the proper care.

Almost as if in response to some unspoken request, the hawk dropped its payload all over the rest of that flammable money. Then the Mind-drifter kicked the pile in front of him, sending it rolling and careening all over the place. Fire caught on the trellis. One bag bounced down onto the front balcony. Tiles slipped from the roof, shattering against the ground.

The thing about homes out here in the West, in this dry, dry heat… they go up fast.

One of Dufaux's leftover guards opened fire. I did a quick glance behind me, and Cecil was gone. Scanning the area, I found him trying to usher Dufaux to safety.

The Mind-drifter’s eyes rolled back as he leaped from the roof. The hawk's talons dug into his healthy arm, eliciting thin streams of blood that were visible even from this distance. His body was too heavy for them to rise together, but its wings allowed them to soar harmlessly out to safety over the walls of Dufaux's compound.

The guard started to give chase but produced a gurgled scream as a tomahawk split through his neck. Blood spurted. The man staggered, futilely holding his wound. He'd be dead before the realization hit him.

But that bit of brutality really got the panic started. Everyone surged toward the gate, an unruly mob upturning tables and spilling alcohol. Which, of course, only fed the cinders of cash raining down. The courtyard blazed, which meant more fire blowing at the house and catching on curtains, wood, and whatever priceless things lay inside.

It was hard for me to not cheer it on. However, much as I disliked Dufaux, these three were my targets.

The smoke had everyone but me coughing, waving their hands in front of their faces, covering their noses with handkerchiefs. I didn't even feel the sting of it against my eyes, which gave me the slightest upper hand as I charged the lady outlaw.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"Where is everyone going?" a deep cavernous voice echoed. One that almost made Dufaux's childlike by comparison. Otaktay. The Yeti. "You will miss the show."

The front gates slammed closed with a deafening clang.

"Monster!" a woman shrieked.

"Demon!" a man cried out. He wasn't far off.

From the outside, two grisly hands wrapped the bars, covered in white fur with thick, ugly nails. More than the last time I'd seen him, for sure. Then the metal, the hinges, the lock—everything started to freeze.

The party guests reached and grabbed it, but that Hellish ice must've been even colder than I realized. They howled in pain like they were burning. Others had stopped short. Then, I think they saw the Yeti, and all responded in kind. Some froze in fear. Understandable. Others ran in terror. Also understandable. One thing nobody did was try to get out of the gate again.

Pushing someone out of the way, I reached the spot where tomahawk-lady had been. "Had been" being the operative phrase. Through the smoke, it was hard to locate her, but I followed the agonized cries. Across the grounds, by the stables, she was gashing another of Dufaux's guards in the back. And with him down, that was it. No more security left up here except Cecil, who was escorting Dufaux somewhere in the bedlam.

I could only hope my three shots had clued Dale into something horrible happening. If not, the giant flames should've. Only been a matter of time before Sheriff Gutierrez, and more men came to the rescue.

I pulled my new rifle, the one “borrowed” from the jailhouse, and aimed at the woman, but with no means of escape, there were too many frenzied guests still. I couldn't risk the shot.

To my left, Otaktay stood atop Dufaux’s outer wall. The crowd ran in the opposite direction. He leaped and landed hard, cracking earth beneath his feet. The tremor knocked me onto my hind. He bellowed a deep roar and rushed Dufaux just before Cecil could get him inside. Cecil was cast aside like a rag doll, and with seemingly no effort, the monster grabbed Dufaux by the throat, and hoisted him high into the air—and a monster, he was. While he'd looked mostly human the first time I saw him in Lonely Hill, Otaktay was now further along in his inevitable descent into madness.

As always, the demon was winning the struggle for this man's soul. Which demon was left to be discovered? Shar might’ve cared, but honestly, at this point, did it really matter? Evil is evil.

Otaktay’s hair—which was all over—was ashen, and wiry. A face as wrinkled as boiled leather left in the sun, discolored and gray. All his teeth were sharp, and his eyes might as well've been molten lava. His clothes were torn, barely fitting anymore as his muscles had grown unnaturally large. And the frost… It clung to him like an aura now, swirling about his body, sloughing off like dandruff every time he moved.

"W-w-what are y-you…" Dufaux stammered.

It wasn't fear that hindered his speech, though I'm sure it played a small part. No. It was cold. Just being that close to Otaktay made his lips purple and his face turn colorless.

Without regard for exceptionally fragile and human parts, Otaktay turned Dufaux to face his house. A tendril of fire burst through the now-broken window as it caught on something else.

"Watch it all burn," Otaktay growled. "Everything you stole. Your home. Your wealth. Consumed."

"Let me go, you wicked, vile beast! Unhand me!"

As much as the sizable Dufaux kicked and bucked, it didn't affect the Yeti in the slightest.

I brought my rifle up as I got to a knee and aimed. At my angle and distance, it was as likely I'd hit Dufaux as the one holding him.

"Let him go," I said. "Let all of them go. You've got me to answer to."

"No!" Otaktay thundered. "He has to watch. They all need to watch."

"Mr. Crowley, don't you dare shoot at me!" Dufaux yelled through quivering lips.

Here's the thing about silver bullets. One's just gotta graze something touched by Hell, and you're a step ahead. So, lowering my sights enough to avoid Dufaux altogether, I plugged Otaktay right in the ankle.

Silvery steam poured out. His roar was like nothing I've ever heard. Freezing breath extinguished the fire on a nearby tablecloth. Dufaux was lucky enough to be tossed aside during the entire ordeal. However, he now lay in a literal pile of shit beside the stables. I spotted Cecil back outside and rushing to his employer’s aid when I heard a woman's cry from behind me.

"Stay out of this, Łiga Ndeeń!" I wasn't sure what those last words translated to, but it was the second time tomahawk-lady had said it to me. I was sure it was something foul. All her face paint was washed clean in order for her to blend in, showing me more than just crow’s feet in the corners of her eyes. She was older than I'd expected for such a spry woman. In her fifties at least, yet still able to move how she did. Color me impressed.

I ducked just before a tomahawk slashed through my forehead. Then again, as her second one came around. Even still, I'm reasonably sure that one shaved off a couple strands of hair. She swung again, and I parried with my rifle. Our weapons slid off each other, sparking as I spun around.

"Nice to see you again, too," I said as I swung left, forcing her to favor one side. I guided her again, and again until I had her backed up against a wall. Suddenly, I was ten feet in the air, swinging at nothing.

"This doesn't concern you!"

Otaktay grabbed me from behind and flung me so high and hard I lost track of where I'd landed. Next thing I knew, I was upside down against a wall, covered in shards of glass and splinters I was lucky I couldn't feel.

Somehow, I’d wound up inside the mansion. Fire licked at my boots, spreading fast through the foyer and across the first floor. Mr. Dufaux's giant portrait was now just black char.

I rolled over so I could get to my knees and found myself facing an ornate mirror. Couldn't you guess who was staring back at me?

"Stop fooling around, Crowley," Shar warned.

"Oh, now you show up? You owe me an explanation when I'm through." I cracked my neck. It popped a few times.

“I owe you nothing. End this.”

Just as I retrieved my rifle to return to the fray, Otaktay burst through the grand front doors, ripping one of them off its hinges entirely. The mahogany iced over, the edges growing slick and sharp.

"You're all the same!" Otaktay flung it sideways like he was playing a casual game of horseshoes. It slashed through the wall of Dufaux's front parlor on its way to cleave me in two, but I dove out of its path. It cracked the grand stair's railing, breaking through to hit a load-bearing post. Some of the second floor caved, bringing more hungry fire down.

I shot from the hip, getting one round off through the beast's ribs. He groaned and vaulted into an adjacent room, leaving a silvery wake behind. The two bullets he'd absorbed would've had other monsters down for the count. But Hell had a true hold of this one.

I followed him into what looked like Dufaux's sitting room, only now was covered in ash and soot.

"You kill and you steal!" The Yeti shouted, throwing a sofa at me. I ducked and rolled, firing every cartridge until my Winchester clicked empty. I landed a few shots, but Otaktay was something else. Werewolves tended to go down under one or two carefully placed silver bullets. He’d taken at least five and still stood.

"Thieves!" Otaktay’s rage was a living thing beneath his skin, trying to break free.

He rushed me, grabbed me by the my duster, and flung me upward. A loose spindle split my side as I crashed through the sitting room's ceiling and into the second floor. I landed, half hanging through the hole and quickly pulled myself up before he reached up and tore me in two.

Fire ravaged this story. Hot, acrid smoke filled the air. As I got my bearings, I heard whimpering. Clamoring to my feet, each movement threatening to collapse the floor beneath me, I called out, "Who's there?"

She coughed. The sound drew me to a closet where one of Dufaux's maids was hiding—that very same native woman who'd taken my coat a day earlier.

"Get outside," I said to her. No answer; just more sobs. "They aren't here for you. You've gotta go, now!"

When again she stayed put, I did what I did best and interfered. Taking her around the waist, I ran through the French doors leading to the second-story balcony, pulling my lasso from my belt loop.

Before I jumped, I saw silhouettes of lawmen approaching the compound's walls from all directions. After I jumped, I lassoed the railing, swung around, and dropped the lady into one of the garden pools. It was shallow but cold. She'd make it even if she couldn't swim.

I kept swinging, coming around for the first floor with my Peacemaker pulled. But before I could use my surprise move to shoot Otaktay in the back of the head, the Mind-drifter’s hawk slashed down and clawed at my eyes. I managed to fend it off, but not before I lost my grip and slammed into a wall. An instant later, I landed awkwardly back in the sitting room, opening my eyes just in time to see the Yeti materialize a shield of ice between me and him.

"What demon is it that has its hold on you, friend?" I said, slowly rising and recovering my lasso.

"The only demon is here, in this home," he retorted.

My left knee bent inward. The tomahawk-lady slid by, having slashed me there. A death sentence for a normal man to be hemmed like that in a fight, but I regained my balance quickly.

She spun in one smooth motion to face me. I noticed she only had one axe now. Smoke and flame swirled all around her, making me wonder if she, too, had some demon in her. Spattered blood painted her body from the jaw down as if replacing her war paint.

"Get it!" she called back to the Yeti. Beyond the ice, I saw Otaktay's silhouette turn and stomp toward the courtyard.

I returned my attention to the woman, having made the mistake of taking it from her in the first place. Fighting means making mistakes and just trying not to make the last one.

Tomahawk-lady sneered. "No bounty for you." Her words were stunted like she struggled with English.

She rushed me.

I fired once.

Twice.

She ducked and weaved as she came, swift as a mountain lion and twice as fierce. Iron hummed as she swung, sending me into a dance of my own. But I was done playing games. Instead of blocking with a weapon this time, I raised my forearm and let the blade sink in through to the bone. Then, I grabbed her swinging arm at the same time so it didn't slice clean through.

She gawked at the wound and my lack of reaction.

"Chiihdii," she whispered.

I head-butted hard enough to knock her off her feet, then kicked the tomahawk out of her grasp and toward the fire. My sliced leg buckled a little, but I pressed on.

"I'm not here for you," I said.

I spat just to wash the taste of smoke from my mouth, pungent enough that it bothered even my muted senses.

Then I quickly retrieved my lasso and took off after the Yeti. His ice wall was melting fast from the blaze, allowing me to climb and slide right over it. More of the stairs broke off and fell all around me. I dodged what I could and shouldered through the rest until I stood at the edge of the courtyard.

Otaktay stood before the totem, glowing red from the fires raging above. Tables for when the party made its way inside were all knocked over. Plants were drowning in ash.

Otaktay reached for the totem like it was gold. I'm damn certain his hands shook with anticipation because it sure as hell wasn't fear.

Since he was out of range of my lasso, I reached for my pistols and accidentally brushed my belt satchel, flipping it open so I spotted the goat-Nephilim’s harmonica inside. I'd almost forgotten about the thing. Digging the instrument out, I ignored the melancholic beckoning it brought as I lifted it to my lips. Voices telling me I’d fail, and that Heaven would cast me out to face eternal damnation. That I was hopeless. Irredeemable. Damned…

Fighting back a dry heave, I played, and as the note hung, I yelled "Stop!" just like I had with the werewolves.

It got Otaktay to stop alright, but only to eye me quizzically. Where they'd been affected by it, Otaktay snarled. He was still in control. Apparently, the Hellish instrument didn't work so well on truly Hellish things. Or maybe it was my limited musical skills.

Either way, the Yeti returned his focus to the totem instead of attacking me. Who needed a harmonica when that thing had him mesmerized like a dog with a bone?

"These things never work when needed,” I complained and stowed it. Drawing my Peacemakers fast, and shot him three times in the back. He growled and collapsed onto an elbow, huffing hard enough to freeze the fountain in the middle of the yard.

"You three are starting to get on my nerves," I said as I approached. I had one silver bullet left in the cylinder, then I'd have to reload. I had to make it count. But the entire courtyard started to glow. At first, I thought maybe it was the moon, but it was him. It was Otaktay. Frost formed from nowhere, whirling around him in a twister. His eyes shone bright.

"We will take what is ours!" he bellowed.

A shockwave shot through the yard like a cannon as his roar carried. Ice spiked along the path, breaking everything it encountered. Walls and columns ruptured. Swathes of the roof collapsed, all of it speeding up the fire's wanton destruction.

The totem was blown back, too, flying out through the mansion and plunging into the quarry at its rear. At least, that was my estimation without being able to fully watch its descent.

Otaktay glared at me, bore his fangs, then took off through the opening like a wild beast running on all fours.

What else could I do but go hunting?