Chapter Text
The locomotive roared through the canyon, steam pouring from its stack. From up high on the mesa, it was visible from miles away.
“What’re we gonna do when they change the rails up?” asked Ottie, the youngest outlaw.
“Ain’t gonna happen for months now, we don’t gotta worry about that,” scoffed Red, next to her. The railway crew was still working on the new tracks that ran flat along the ground, taking a longer route that avoided the rocky areas.
“Gonna have to start ridin’ guinea fowl,” Ottie muttered.
“I ain’t ridin’ no guineas, they’re mean as hell.”
“One of ‘em pecked my eyes out back in the day,” offered the third, a skinny old man. The other two looked over at his keen eyes, notably intact.
“They pecked yer eyes out?” Ottie asked.
“Yep,” Pappy muttered. “That’s why you gotta stay away from the old MacLeod place. Y’all get ready.”
“We been ready,” Red muttered, and slid down the embankment. The other two followed. They crouched on a ledge just over the tracks and waited as the noise of the train grew louder. The whistle blew.
All three tensed as the train chugged around the bend, then jumped down as it passed. One thump on top of the first car, and two on the second. Red went up to the engine while Pappy and Ottie moved low along the train towards the back. They both ducked down between cars just before the tunnel, and Pappy picked the simple lock quickly, stepping inside.
“Folks,” he announced as he led the way through the car. “Ladies. Gents. Me and my associate here are just passin’ through. Don’t mean y’all no harm. I’m just gonna walk on by. …And then she’s gonna take yer protection fee. Just makin’ sure everybody’s safe ‘round these parts.”
“Is this a real train robbery?” sputtered a man with an impressive mustache. He looked more delighted than terrified.
“Might be. I wouldn’t concern yourselves with that though.” Pappy winked, then patted the rifle at his side and spun his pistol on his thin finger. “You do what we say, you got nothin’ to worry about.” He continued walking while Ottie began collecting what money and jewelry she could at knife-point.
The next car had a sturdier lock, but it was no match for Pappy’s nimble hands. He had the door open and was walking in within a minute. Four big men stood, drawing their weapons. The older man’s mouth twisted in a sharp grin, and they all dropped before he had Biscuits back in its holster. He stepped over a body and gently ran his hands over the safe they had been guarding. Standard combination lock. He knelt down and pressed his ear to it, turning the dial slowly. There was a soft click and he smiled, turning the knob the other way.
“Best hurry it up!” Ottie called from the next car.
“No rushin’ this,” Pappy mumbled as he worked. Click.
There were gunshots, and the door burst open. A deputy brandished a pistol at him, and another in the last rail car had Ottie at gunpoint. Pappy sighed.
“Just drop your guns and stand up,” said the deputy closer to him. “Nice and slow.”
“Nice and slow, hm?” Pappy’s fingers continued to turn slowly. “Well I appreciate that. Gettin’ on up there in years. Sometimes the knees don’t work so good anymore. Gimme a minute here.”
“Drop the guns.”
“Sure,” Pappy murmured.
Click.
“Look out behind you.”
The deputy looked back, and Pappy had the safe open immediately. He grabbed the bag inside, glanced at Ottie who was stabbing her deputy, and ran out the back. He slammed the door open hard into the man waiting for him, leapt up, and clambered up onto the roof of the train. He ran forward to pick up momentum. There was shouting below, but just as another deputy’s head appeared over the rim of the roof he was jumping up onto another rocky ledge beside the train. He lay there, low as he could get, until the train had gone past.
The other two would be fine. Not his concern really, as they'd made sure he knew he wasn't their concern, but they’d manage. He opened the bag and peeked inside. And smiled. More jewels than he’d seen in a hot minute.
Not something he could sell or trade anywhere near Pilby, but it was nice to see that sparkle at the end of a job. Pappy scrambled up to the top of the cliff where the sandstone was soft enough that the rain had worn holes and rivulets into it over the years. He picked his way across until he found a little canyon big enough to stand in. There was a hole in the side just the right size for the bag.
Pappy stretched and climbed back up to the top, looking around. He’d have to see if he could hunt down some critter to cook up on his way back to camp. Ghost Dog would be hungry. He sure as hell was, and if the others wandered back they would be too.
If they didn’t he’d have to rustle up some new folks somewhere, and that was a real pain in the ass. But everything was getting harder lately, though he wasn’t about to let that hold him back. Harder to find folks he could work with, harder to do everything on his own, harder to keep going as long and hard as he used to… He was still alive though, so he’d keep on living however he could.
*
“Come along, Marya,” Zuzana said, glaring at Professor MacLeod. She pulled the girl into her arms and held her close, leaning in to hiss at the other woman. “You think you are being good to her! Filling her head with false promises that will twist her mind and turn her heart sour! Leave here!”
“No, we’re comin’ back for her,” Comfrey said with a firm nod. “The sky’s no place for a child. But we’re gonna come back to work on things now and then. And Marya, when you’re old enough, you’re gonna be a Wind Rider just like us. You’ll be best of us, and that’s a promise.”
Marya looked up through tears to see Comfrey wink at her. She sniffed and wiped her face.
“How ‘bout it, Kid?” Comfrey asked. “When we come back for you, you gonna be ready to go?”
The little girl seemed to inhale vitality as she straightened up. “I am ready to go! If you won’t take me now, I will get better. I will be ready, Professor! I promise!”
“Good! See? No problem. Don’t kill your kid’s dreams when they’re gonna come true! See ya later, Kid.” She grinned and walked back towards the ship, Zuzana glowering at her back.
“Captain!” Van Chapman saluted as she stepped aboard. “All repairs done, we’re ready to fly. What’s our destination?”
“I dunno, let’s see what’s happening!” Comfrey laughed. “Onion, what’ve we got?”
“Well there’s talk that the Duchess of Hawk is planning to expand her navy and try to gain some of the territory they lost back in the war, but…” He shrugged.
“Nah, that’s nothing exciting.”
“I wouldn’t mind visiting the South Pole Research Station,” Monty LaMontgommery suggested. “It’s an ecosystem I haven’t seen yet. I’d love to get to know the wildlife.”
“Nothing happening there.” Comfrey waved him off. “Come on Onion, what else?”
“Well…” Onion St. Clay opened the newspaper he was carrying. “Not a lot going on in the way of current events. Since I know you don’t wanna go to Pilby.”
Comfrey’s face twitched. “Why, what’s happening in Pilby?” she asked, keeping her voice carefully neutral.
“Seems they’ve had a string of train robberies. Some valuable artifacts stolen. Supposedly some bandit out in the desert.” He offered her the paper, where there was a rough sketch of a man’s thin face with a sharp smirk under a wide-brimmed hat. “The most wanted man in Pilby. Callin’ him Pappy. Supposed to be the best shot on the whole continent, if not the world.”
“Most wanted man in Pilby?” Comfrey said softly, licking her lips. “Mm. I can see why.”
“Yes, well everyone who can hit a target once thinks themselves the best shot in the world,” Sylvio Dufresne muttered, rubbing the pistol at his hip. “I wouldn’t mind disproving that claim.”
“Hm.” Comfrey was reading the article more closely. “Pilby’s a big place. Railroads don’t run… Well I know where the rails run. Huh. …That’s a few big treasures this guy’s stolen.”
“This paper’s a few days old,” Onion said. “Could be more by now, seems like he works fast.”
“Sure. Pilby’s got a lot of big shipments passing through all the time. This guy could have all the fortunes of the world if he’s that good. Any word of these things getting resold, appearing on the black market?”
“Nothing yet,” Onion said. “But if he’s smart, he’d lay low for a while, let things die down before trying to sell anything.”
“I like a smart man,” Comfrey murmured. “Okay. Wouldn’t be the first time something good came outta Pilby, huh?” She grinned.
“Sure,” Van agreed. “I’ve never been.”
“Not much worth seeing there,” Comfrey muttered. “All the best parts of Pilby are the things that get out. But we’ll see. Might be fun to go bandit hunting. Take a train ride, how about it? We can keep working on that new balloon in our spare time, eh Van?”
“Sounds alright.”
“Okay, then! Plot a course to Pilby!” The Professor ran up to the wheel and stomped on the floor twice.
“We’re going!” Haunch Saxon jumped up and started shoveling coal into the Typhoon’s great furnace.
“That’s right, put yer back into it,” rumbled old Sol Datchery, nodding from their seat in the corner. The young man threw load after load of coal into the furnace, and above them the balloons swelled.
The Typhoon rose into the sky, and Comfrey MacLeod turned the wheel for the place she always hoped she’d never have to go back to. As long as she kept her eyes on the skies, and stayed away from the farm, everything would be fine. And it would be fun to face down a bandit. Nice change of pace. Hopefully that sketch was accurate, too.
*
Daisuke Bucklesby sat idly with a hand on Ghost Dog, watching the sunset. The other two were back in their own homes or hideouts. Time was, you could be in a proper outlaw gang all together. But this was just a job to folks now, and they looked at him weird when he’d suggested cooking up a pot of beans together.
“Skyship comin’ in,” he murmured. He thought back to his time running with Goldbeard. Shame he’d been too young to have any damn patience back then. He didn’t spare much time for regrets, but it was nice when he was working with someone who was more than just a casual coworker. Someone who shared his love of the chase.
That was a long time ago, though. Finding people who thought like you was a young man’s game, and if you were fool enough to kill them off you didn’t get another chance.
“Feelin’ my age tonight,” he murmured, scratching Ghost Dog’s ribs. “Least I got you.” The old labrador scrunched up and started scratching with his hind leg. He sighed loudly, scooting closer to Daisuke when he stopped. “Don’t you worry. You’re all I need. You and me, we gotta stick together.”
The Pappy of Pilby slowly lowered himself to stretch out beside Ghost Dog, back to back. “Might like to take a look at that ship. Looks like it’s seen some action.” Ghost Dog grumbled sleepily and pressed closer to him. They both curled up, and eventually Pappy drifted off to sleep under the stars with the only one who understood him.