The crowd's voices dulled the further they went. Bill and I sat inside the medicine wagon on the crates, counting the actual that we had made under the kerosene lamp. I could attribute this to greed between us all. We knew Uncle Sam had a long shadow over us; still, we had made many stops in many villages, some minor while others were significant. I looked over my shoulder at each location, expecting Karen or the sheriff.

The things we did for this actual; from bumpy cart roads, forgotten walking paths, mosquitos, and the wildlife trying to kill us. Now here on the outskirts of this town with a wagon of empty bottles, it was all for this.

He held my shoulder. "Despite it all, we still have some luck, don't we?"

I chuckled.

"Whisky?"

I nodded, my hand still flicking through the actual. It was enough to give me a start, clear my debts, and maybe even leave this place behind.

Bill poured a glass for himself and one for me. "A man's drink. Good stuff for four dollars a bottle."

"Four dollars a bottle?" I took it in my hand and drank. The vanilla spice seared onto my tongue. I sunk down, noticing the extra lump we hadn't even counted yet. I shook my head as I grimaced. It flowed down my body, settling with warmth in my stomach. Too many of these, and it might even talk to my soul.

Bill laughed in response. "Take your time with this one. It's deadly, Rattle Scotch Whisky. It can put down a fully grown bear."

I wiped my lip. "You should have warned me about what I was getting into."

"Here's another."

Bill poured the brown liquor and then splashed water in from his canteen. He placed the bottle between his legs.

"A bar dog once told me the water lets the flavor come out more."

Thump, thump. "How much we made, gentlemen of the first water?" Laura asked as she barged in.

In the space, she created oakmoss, and old leather crept inside the wagon, suffocating the air. Coughing followed it from Manto outside.

"Damn tobacco," I said.

Bill turned his face. "Again, we will never get to the end of the amount if you keep entering and knocking the count out of our head."

Laura's head lowered. "Sorry, sorry. Bill was just asking for the boys outside."

Bill finished his glass. "For the boys, or for yourself, Laura?"

"A bit of both," Laura said, whisky fumed off her breath as she took a seat next to Bill on the ground.

"Braun was asking to go to the show they are putting on in the town?"

I looked at my pocket watch. "Bill."

"You won't make it back to Black Water in time, Ron, and you won't make it there on your own. We will leave at sunrise tomorrow. Tell Braun after we are done, he can just stay out of trouble and leave those young girls alone."

"What's this?" Laura said as her hand reached for the bottle.

"Not for you that —"

"Is a man's drink. Yeah, yeah, I have heard you said that for years. So, you're going to drink the good booze and share it with him and leave us outside with the scraps."

Bill's nose flared. "Take it then. Just go back out."

Laura nodded and bowed, taking the bottle in hand. "As you wish, my lord."

I laughed. "I think that's the first time I ever seen you so flustered by someone, Bill."

"Laura, she is a handful Ron."

"I can imagine, but she has some craft to that technique."

"I learned from the best," her voice sounded from the outside.

"Go further, give the —"

"Give the men some space to talk," Laura said, interrupting Bill.

Chuckles followed outside.

"What are the other two doing?" I asked, moving the other pile of actual to me.

"Well, they were monitoring from outside, making sure we aren't being watched, but the boy's drinking now and Manto is reading some letter."

"I see."

"Everyone's still a bit spooked, you know. With the southerner being taken, this might be the last job we all take together." Bill stirred his glass. "It's best to spend it enjoying as much of it as possible."

"Why does it sound like you want to go to that town show too?"

"We might as well enjoy what the locals offer."

I stacked the actual together. "Haven't we done enough of that already?"

Bill chuckled. "How much we got, Ron?"

"We got seven hundred Bill. How are we splitting it?"

"We share it equally for everyone. That should be one hundred and seventy-five apiece."

"Thank you."

Bill brushed my shoulder. "This is the last and you deserve it. All of you, get in here!"

Braun was the first to enter. His eyes glittered at the actual on the floor. Despite being a young man, he still looked like a juvenile. He made himself small and took a corner as Laura, then Manto, entered last, brewing up a chimney. The two came close to us, so close. That Manto putrid scent lingered on my nose. Damn, did the man not bathe in years?

"I ain't see that much money in one place except for when the money lenders come out."

"Manto, we don't need another lecture about your days when you had a farm and borrowed money," Laura said. "I am surprised you aren't on a wanted list for burning your house down and running."

Manto grumbled, scratching his bald head. Alcohol swayed like death on his breath.

The young man chuckled.

Manto's eyes widened, and his thick eyebrow arched on his weather-beaten face. "You see something funny, boy?"

"No, no, sir."

"When I took my issue up to the supposed sheriff of this county of the forsaken land, they dismissed me as not being a priority. Finding missing cows became more important than a human being. I wonder how many of these village idiots have been electing him."

"Just take it easy, Manto. Braun, come here."

Manto exhaled, and Braun drew closer. He came, crossed over, and sat beside me.

"Now then, the money will be split equally. It is seven hundred dollars in total and that gives one hundred and seventy-five dollars apiece."

"Why, the boy has to get so much of the pie? He usually gets paid the least and then the woman and the new guy too?"

"Hey don't you be complaining, you fat lard. If it isn't for our delicate work, you wouldn't have anything to eat. You know how much we put into changing our disguise and freshening up! Something that you know nothing about."

"Laura," Bill said.

"Think I don't see you running off to the bed-house. At least the boy's got some standards."

Manto stared at the top of the wagon. "You hellion —"

"That's the best you got. You lost your land, and now you're nothing but a spineless windbag now resorting to squatting. Despite getting some money in your hand, you smell like piss. You should ask the boy for some tips on how to freshen up."

"I work. I do. Who you think keeps you safe, Laura? I protect you, Bill, the kid, and even the new fella Ron. Don't you see how hard I work?" He said, scanning the wagon for confirmation.

My head shifted down when our eyes met.

"You keep us safe, Manto. That's why we need you. The reason I divided the actual into this is because this is the last job. We have two options. We either get the southerner out of jail before the Marshalls come for him or we get out of this county. Let's vote on it."

"I am not risking my neck for him," Braun said, tapping his foot. "That's a suicide mission. I vote against."

"I say we save him," Laura countered. "He's one of us. We have to look out for each other. I vote for."

"One time I agree with you, boy. When you're caught, you're on your own. We ain't no army and this ain't some damn tale. I agree with the boy for once. He actually said something good. I vote against it."

"Damn it, Manto, after all that big talk you just did about protecting us and our own. You can't even prove that you could back those words. The kid I can understand, but you?"

Manto scratched his beard in response.

"What's your take, Ron?" Bill asked.

My head rose to meet Bill. The others went quiet. Their gaze, however, lingered on me.

Why did Bill have to put me on the spot?

"I don't know the man and while I understand, Manto and the kid. If he was so close to me, I would feel the same way as Laura."

"So what you're saying is?"

"That I can't decide in good faith for all parties involved."

Bill sighed and squeezed his nose. "You're right and I vote for."

"What!?" Manto shouted.

"Yes," Laura said.

"I think if we leave him behind, we can never sleep again in peace. You want to be constantly looking over your shoulder from the sheriff's and bounty hunters." He exhaled. "There are also the Indians and the Bull Prosecutors as well. All he has to do is tell to save himself the death sentence. We would have a wanted picture of us all in every town. Ask yourself, do you want that?"

There was silence in the wagon.

Manto sighed first and scratched his bald head before tapping his legs. "You're right Bill, I don't want that. I care nothing about the southerner, but I wouldn't want everyone to be living in a life of fear."

"You don't have to decide now, Braun. You can sleep on it and decide tomorrow whatever you choose would be fine with me."

The boy nodded.

"Now then, let's head into town and watch this show that Braun's being interested in going to."

"If we are going out, let Manto freshen up first and maybe some new clothes to wear for the night."

Bill chuckled. "We will all freshen up together, my treat. First thing in the town, the bath service should still be open. I don't know about the tailor."

"The tailor is open, Laura —"

"Shhhhh, Braun, don't give it away."

We laughed.

From where I was seated, I handed the actual out to everyone. They greeted my action with a thank you.

Laura placed her hand in the boy's hair. "Braun, you still have much to learn as an apprentice. Now then, let's all go to the town. Old Orchard first?"

Manto hummed. "I used to work hard for my living. But it made me so awfully tired. I found that the game wouldn't pay."

Laura unscrewed the bottle and poured her glass.

"To work jolly nard for nine hours a day," Braun said, raising his.

"So I chucked up my crib for a different turk. And soon I found out I could do without work; Now I don't do a stroke, I assure you it's true," Laura said.

"What are they singing?" I asked, pouring a shot.

"It's a native song," Bill said.

They sang in unison. "But now all is silent around the good old home. They all have left me in sorrow here to roam, but while life does remain, in memoriam, I'll retain. This small violet I plucked from mother's grave."

#

When they had said a show, this was the last thing I had in my mind. In this environment, I was now effectively a fish on land. The basement of this abandoned building within the town was crowded, hot, and dark. It was here, under a dim light, that a man's skill was tested.

Two big hairy men sweat while throwing punches or dodging each other in this encirclement. Prizefighting, they called it, but it was anything but a prize. Blood flew, landing on the spectators with each swing, to a roaring crowd of vicious cheers. Why had we even come here again? Salty sweat had even landed on my lips from the decisive punch of one boxer. It made some cheer and others lose their very mind at the loss of actual that went up into smoke. In this madness, Laura, Manto, and Braun seem to lose themselves throwing rotten tomatoes sold for shabby performances. It was like they were howling as they dragged out the loser of the makeshift ring. He was now, like the others, a lifeless sack of meat. It was hard to tell if the hit had granted some of these men instant death, although the announcer did his best to assure the public that the men were okay.

Despite it all, Bill remained calm, but not a single word left his lips; instead, it appeared his mind was elsewhere. I folded my arms. What decision would he make tomorrow?