"Reginald!" Mayor Stinson shouted, right outside Dufaux's broken gate. "Reginald Dufaux, I know you're in there!"

I tried to slip by unnoticed, but luck favored another and the mayor headed right for me.

"You! I saw you here yesterday. You two pals? Did you see him in there?" he asked, poking a finger into my chest.

What was it with leaders in this town that made them so disrespectful? I'm sure he felt big in his top hat, though without it, I had half a foot on him.

Grabbing his hand and calmly moving it aside, I answered, "Yeah, he's in his cellar, crying."

"Crying? Crying! He lost a house. People have lost their lives because he refused to postpone this… this… self-worshiping festival of his.”

"A lot of people have been dead by his hand for a long time."

Stinson’s brow furrowed. "What?"

"It ain't my place to say. But ask Dufaux about thallium. Don't stop pressing until you get him to spill. And Mr. Mayor…" I reached out and straightened his—I'm just going to call it an ascot, no matter what it was. He looked at me like I'd just called his mama a whore. "Won't be long before you're actually the one in charge here."

"I am in charge."

I patted him on the cheek. "Good. Act like it."

I brushed by him, nudging his shoulder on purpose, and started back toward town.

Revelation's fate splayed out before me from my vantage on the hill. Black smoke billowed in pillars behind me and smaller ones from the bank below, but it also looked like the sky was threatening a storm blowing in from the south.

When it rains… as they say.

Anyone with eyes and ears could tell there was no fast recovering from this. There wouldn't be a Founders' Day Fair this year beyond those precious few minutes earlier. And whether the knowledge of Dufaux's deceit became widely known or not, his leverage was gone. He caused this.

I could only hope Mayor Stinson would find restitution for the poor people who'd been lied to and stolen from, that Apenimon's legacy would be rightly restored, and Revelation Springs would be able to scrub away the stains left behind by Dufaux's gross avarice. At the very least, find a place in the world where it could profit again.

A large chasm ran from the quarry through the outskirts of town. Several homes and shops were either gone or teetering on the edge, ready to cascade into the pit below. They'd have a hell of a time figuring out how to keep people from falling to their deaths once this was all over with.

Sheriff Gutierrez's men were doing their damnedest to convince everyone that things were under control, but those who'd been hiding out at Dufaux's estate had already ruined any chances of that. I saw men and women dressed to the hilt, running around, telling anyone who would listen about monsters and vicious Indians. Nothing helpful.

The long lines at the train station told me that a large number of visitors indeed had brains in their noggins and weren't willing to stick around for round three. The workers were holding some back, finding room for others. Already, the train cars were full to capacity, with people standing on every gangway. I'd never seen so many packed in at once. It wouldn't be a comfortable trip to wherever they were heading, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Besides, I was sure the railroad wouldn't mind charging all these folks a hefty sum to get them to safety in a hurry. Someone was gonna be eating well for a long while after this.

The church remained pristine as could be at the northern edge of the fairgrounds, looking to have not even suffered from the occasional stray bullet like nearly every other place in Revelation Springs. I didn't have trouble imagining a whole army of angels like Shar protecting it while letting the rest of town go to hell in a hand-basket.

"Jesus is knocking at the door of your hearts today!" cried the town reverend. He stood on the front steps where Dufaux had recently force-fed the town a bucket of shit. Ringing a bell, making sure everyone paid attention to him, he repeated, "Jesus is knocking on the door of your hearts today!"

Spotting me passing by, he took the steps two at a time. "The end is nigh, friend. Armageddon is upon us. Do you know where your eternal soul will rest?"

I gave him a once over. I guess we served the same side. "There's no rest for the wicked, Padre.” I gave him a nod and walked.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"Never grow weary in doing good!" he shouted behind me, then returned to his previous declarations.

I checked around the mad mirror house, but Gutierrez, Ace, and all the others were gone. A cleaning crew swept up broken glass while a handful of parents and children were still trying to have a good time with what remained of the stands in the back lot. The Freak Show tent played host to a dozen or so patrons. I could see the World’s Strongest Man hefting an anvil one-handed through the flap while Beast Boy did trapeze above and through his limbs. The jester character, whatever he was supposed to be, did cartwheels and summersaults and all kinds of ground acrobatics.

Would’ve been a fun show to see.

Guess some people had nothing else to do if they couldn't leave. Better to be distracted than terrified.

I slipped into the ravaged town square just as the geyser went off. I didn’t see Shar in the waters this time. If she had any thoughts on the subject at hand after our little spat, she was keeping quiet. There'd be a time and place for her input, but thankfully, now wasn't it.

Chunks of wood and splinters were everywhere. Ripped canvases, broken carts… barely anything was left intact. Enough produce to feed a town the size of Lonely Hill for a week was spilled everywhere, half of it split open and already festering with flies.

Residents milled around the front of the Gold Mine Hotel, and even Picklefinger's looked busier than a termite mound despite the bullet holes and missing windows. In times like these, people felt safer surrounded by others than alone.

As expected, the bank was a wreck. Deputies kept the rabble away, but through the open doors, I saw that the vault remained sealed. Ace didn't get the chance to carry out his robbery without Otaktay and the others. And while it was a pity that a lot of what was locked inside was Dufaux's money, much also belonged to the fine people of this region who didn't deserve to lose a thing.

All of it was an overwhelming sight, and whatever heart I had bled for these folks. But alas, I had my own business to take care of. I needed to have a word with Ace, and I had a good mind I'd find him in a cell.

However, when I arrived at the jail, I found nothing and no one except the snoring vagabond that had been locked up with me and Dale the night before.

My thoughts drifted to Dale's shot-up corpse. Goddammit, what did he have to go and get killed for?

I piddled around in the sheriff's office a moment, making sure I hadn't missed anyone. Ace's ugly mug still hung on the wall of wanted posters for the murder of that Vanderbilt. Terrible drawing of him that was so faded nobody would ever recognize him, by the way. It was half-buried under a few others, nearby newer ones for the Frozen Trio and some woman called the Grizzly Queen of the West. For a passing moment, I found myself worried I'd see Rosa's face drawn there. Pretty as she might’ve been, she was no Rosa.

Satisfied the building was as empty as I believed it to be, I went out the back door into an alley. Maybe I'd missed him at the fairgrounds.

I heard the strained groans before I saw anything. Wasn't long before I discovered Sheriff Gutierrez and another deputy behind the feed store a block up. The latter laid in the dirt, out cold with a bleeding forehead.

"Sheriff?" I said, nudging Gutierrez with a boot. He was just coming to and clearly confused, reaching for things that weren't there and such. "What happened?"

He didn't answer—probably couldn't think well enough to form words.

"Sheriff, I said what the hell happened?"

I shook him, and he flinched like he'd been shot. I scanned his body for blood or bullet holes, but all I found was a big bump on the back of his head where he'd likely been blackjacked.

"I—what? Who?" He blinked heavy eyelids and struggled to focus.

"Sheriff, who did this? Where's the outlaw? His men spring him?"

Don't know why I did it, but I chose not to reveal Ace's name. Not yet. Something still wasn't right, and I wanted to get some answers before the feds got involved.

"No. No men." Gutierrez shook his head. He tried to stand but stumbled. "A woman. Came riding in on horseback, and the blasted thing hoofed me and one of my deputies." He nodded toward the totally unconscious deputy, then winced.

"What'd she look like?" I snapped my fingers. "Hey!"

His attention drifted back to me. "She was pretty. Real pretty. Long hair, black as ravens, and creamy brown skin. Just my type, she was."

"Keep it in your pants, Sheriff. Details."

"She flew by quick, Crowley," he said. "Don't know what else you wanna know. She wore gold bracelets, uh…"

"Rosa," I whispered to myself.

He rubbed the back of his head again. "I'm sorry. Even the best of us gets duped by a pretty face every now and then."

Even as Gutierrez spoke the words, I knew he was wrong. He thought Rosa was on Ace's side, and he couldn't've been farther from the truth. I'd seen her face when she saw Ace. Rosa hadn't saved Ace's life. She'd probably already taken it as payback for what he did to her and her mama all those years ago.

I thought about Rosa and how she might now be viewed as every bit the outlaw I was for her actions. Looks like today ruined a few lives for those I cared about.

There's an old saying: "The man who seeks vengeance should start by digging two graves."

Well, it's true. Though, in this case, it was a woman who needed to dig.

I whistled through two fingers for Timp, hoping she was close enough to hear. Then, without a word more, I took off at a sprint.

"Where are you going?" Gutierrez called. He tried to stand but fell back against the wall. I didn't need him trying to follow me to Rosa or Ace. I had to stop her from doing something stupid… if it wasn't too late.

Crossing the fairgrounds was a pain, but I made my way around the mess as fast as I could. Didn't care much who I bumped into either. I gave another whistle, but Timperina never showed. Maybe she couldn't hear over all the racket, but usually, she came zipping to me like a banshee at the sound.

So, I ran on my own. My leg had fully healed now, apart from ruined dungarees, there wasn't even a sign I'd been struck by that tomahawk. Not the arm either. Don’t think I'd ever run so fast, and wasn't it ironic that I was doing so to save Ace Ryker's filthy life?

"Thanks for this, Shar," I complained as I chugged along, knowing she could somehow hear me. Lame angel if she couldn't. "Letting us all come together really was wise. Real heavenly."