By Rob Vaux A tale of Deadlands Weird West
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"You crazy, cock-eyed, back-scuttling skunk!" Rachel Sumner's voice echoed across the cavern walls. "What in Perdition's name did you think you were doing?!"
"Saving our skins the only way I could," the handsome black man met his underling's shouts with an unwavering gaze. "Would you have rather they strung the both of us up?"
"You don't know they would have done that, Jackie!"
"Oh no? They love that dog, Rachel. Or did before Spike killed it."
"Spike didn't know any better! How could he?! The man could barely count to five!"
"All the more reason to put him down before he did something worse."
The rest of the Blackjacks had slowly gathered around the pair,watching their banter with interest. It was rare that anyone stood up to their leader so forcefully. Rachel seemed to be making up for it, however.
"So you blew Spike's head off because he shot a lousy dog?"
"No, I blew Spike's head off because he shot the town's mascot. This was the one creature in Gomorra that nobody had a grudge against, that nobody hated or despised, that nobody wanted to see dead. And Spike killed him. Killed him in front of forty-odd gunmen who couldn't believe what they were seeing. Do you have any idea what kind of hurt that would have brought down on our heads if I hadn't aced him then and there?"
"He was the best gunman this gang's seen! We can't afford to lose him, Jackie."
"After that display in the town square, we couldn't afford anything else. Look around you," he gestured at the congregated gang. "We're, what, a dozen men? Gomorra's a big town. If they took a mind to, they could hunt us down and slaughter us like goats. The only reason - the only reason - we're still walking around is because enough people think we're in the right. They think we're sticking it to Sweetrock like no one else can, and that makes them forgive the fact that we're outside the law. It lets them ignore us, encourage us, even support us. But that support comes with a price. There're certain boundaries we can't cross, certain things we can't do."
Rachel's eyes bulged incredulously. "Oh yeah? Like what?"
"Like shooting the damn town dog, that's what! You think the movers and shakers in Gomorra are content to just let us be? You think Howard Findley isn't trying every trick in the book to bring us down? Or that Nate Hunter isn't just waiting for an excuse to arrest us? We walk a very thin line, Rachel. And this morning, Spike Dougan crossed it."
"So that excuses what you did. And if one of us crosses the line?"
Jack stiffened. "None of you are that stupid. Are you?" He looked around at the assembled outlaws. Silence greeted him. The men looked uncomfortable and fidgety. "All right then. Issue settled."
He walked towards the cavern entrance, ignoring Rachel's burning glower which followed him out. "I run this gang as I see fit. Before you get to questioning me again, remember how much money I've put in your pockets."
"Besides," he punctuated, not looking back. "I liked that dog."