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Morning found Curtis and Mystery tacking up for a trip to the local fishing hole. He’d figured it would be a good time to scavenge some food for the colony; starvation wasn’t high on his idea of a fun time. Besides, he wasn’t the best hunter in the world, but any idiot could put a worm on a hook. The Palomino mare seemed thrilled with the chance to get out; she’d warmed up nicely to Curtis, Bandit, and Sirius. The golden mare stamped a hoof to keep warm as Curtis finished tacking her up. Once her girth was tight, he swung into the saddle, and headed towards the outskirts of the city. It was obvious he was off to do some fishing, as he’d slung his rod and tackle pack over the back of Mystery’s saddle. The palomino mare was fine with this, and seemed not to mind one bit. Between here and the gates, anyone who called out to join would be welcomed. Curtis never was the kind to enjoy the solitude of fishing; he preferred to have someone to chat with while he waited for a tug on the line. The serenity of sitting and staring at nature never seemed to pique his interest. The weather was freezing, but the water would still be running and the fish biting. Especially with fresh food growing scarce as December rolled onward. A man grew weary of hardtack, salted beef, and beans three meals a day.
“All right, let’s do this,” Curtis told Mystery, as the pair strode towards the edge of town. He glanced around, eying for anyone who might be able to tag along and break up the monotony of the task. Meanwhile, the mare strode calmly along, happy with their pace. She was a smart creature, and had an easygoing manner. She’d been skittish at first, but considering her blood-smeared tack and lack of a rider, Curtis figured she’d been through hell for a touch, and was getting back to herself now. The redhead patted Mystery’s neck softly, lost in thought about how he’d come across the creature. It seemed he kept stumbling across companions out in the wilderness, and he couldn’t complain. Mouths to feed, sure, but they were worth their weight in gold out here.
The chill in the air had Farah up earlier than most mornings chopping wood for their fireplace. She’d rather stock up before the hard weather hit than be stuck out in a blizzard trying to find kindling. Again. She’d been at the task for a good hour or so and was taking a break on the front steps of the bank.
The town had come along quite nicely in the last few months. Buildings lined the street and the walls stood tall and securely down the way. Farah took a moment to really take it all in. They may be in hell, but they were turning this chunk of it into their own little slice of heaven in it.
Amidst her reverie Farah noticed Curtis making his way down the street on horseback, loaded with some gear. She hadn’t had much of a chance to interact with the man outside of passing howdy’s at the stable. She really needed to thank the man for dealing with her mare and all of her … personality. Especially now that this place had started to change her. With the addition of fangs, her bites had gotten much more dangerous and the man was a saint for putting up with that near his own horses.
When he strode near she called out to him. “Mornin! Where you headed to this early in the mornin’ Horses?” She always did love giving people random nicknames whether the recipient enjoyed them or not. Although that had led to a few punches here and there and a few scuffles with a knife but honestly, people needed to lighten up. It was all in good fun after all.
Nicknames never seemed to irk him, and Curtis was just glad that people recognized him at all. He’d never figured he’d amount to much in this world, but the Hellzone had given him an opportunity to change that. So an annoying nickname was just another sign that he was doing well. Or better than he once thought, at the very least. He smiled, stopping Mystery up to talk to Farah.
“Well, I’ve had about as much hard tack as I can stand for one lifetime, so I’m off to do a little fishing,” he told the woman, nodding hello as he spoke. “Feel up to getting yourself something fresh for dinner?” He invited easily. “I’m not keen on spending all day alone with my own thoughts; if I wanted that I’d have stayed back home,” he laughed.
“Besides, the more we catch, the less we have to eat the same dried shit over and over again,” he sighed. “Smoked fish lasts long enough.”
Farah quirked her face into a look of deep contemplation for a moment before responding. “Yeah, honestly I’m just tired a’ beans. I know Carmen’d enjoy some nice fish for a change too. … Hmm, let me go let her know I’m heading out and I’ll meet you down at the gate. That sound good Horses?” She stood from her seat on the porch step and made to turn for the door as she patted the dirt off her pants seat. “I’ll be in the doghouse if I up an’ disappear without lettin’ her know. … Again” She added with a slight shiver.
Curtis chuckled, amused with the fact that despite their living in the Hellzone, some things never changed. He was no stranger to being in the doghouse for dumb decisions, so he agreed that letting her say her goodbye’s would be best. He waited by the edge of town, figuring it wouldn’t take Farah long to catch up. Mystery stood calmly until Farah’s return, swishing her tail lazily. Once the other caught up, they could dive into the wilderness. The fishing hole wasn’t too terribly far, so the jaunt there wouldn’t cut into their fishing time too badly.
Entering the bank Farah found Carmen tending to the fire in the corner. A favored pastime of the woman as of late. Sneaking up behind the woman with a wicked grin on her face, Farah grabbed her around the waist and hefted her into a sitting position on her shoulder.
Carmen understandably released a shriek of surprise at the action and the fire roared to life along with her surprise. “FARAH!” Carmen chided from her perch on the shorter woman’s shoulder. Farah responded with a belly laugh before releasing her prisoner back to the ground.
Straightening her dress now that she was back on her feet, she questioned the other woman. “I see you’re done with the firewood, or are you only taking a break to come burn down the house?” She added a playful smirk along with her accusations.
Looking back at the admittedly now large fire in the fireplace Farah rubbed her neck. “Sorry bout’ that Firefly. Still getting used to that. Naw I’m done with the firewood for now but Curtis invited me to go fishin’ and I thought fresh fish sounded grand for dinner so I came to let you know I was leavin’ town for a bit.”
Carmen’s playfulness dropped for a moment at the prospect of Farah leaving town without her but the stress left her quickly. “Fish sounds lovely Mon Cher. Please do be careful- and don’t get Curtis killed.” She added with a pointed look.
Farah simply waved her hand at that. “You know I’m always careful and Curtis is a big boy. He can take care of himself but I promise to behave.”
Satisfied with her response the woman shared a kiss goodbye before Farah was off on her adventure. After informing her dearest of the plans of the day and the prospect of fresh fish for dinner, Farah dashed off towards the stable with a pep in her step. She’d started to get a bit stir crazy and this was just what she needed to help with that.
In the stable, Fantasma was her usual grouchy self. “Hey she-devil. How do you feel about a trip outside today?” She playfully asked the beast as she began collecting her tack. The horse in question only perked an ear in her direction but Farah knew that was a sign of interest from her. The woman quickly brushed out her coat, with only a few nibbles from the creature and tacked her up for the day. She didn’t have much in the way of fishing gear so she grabbed her whittling knife and some spare fishing line. If she had to make herself a fishing pole and hook so be it. Maybe Curtis would have a spare if nothing else. With everything packed she was off to the gate where the man sat atop his horse.
Fortunately, the distance to the fishing hole was short and easy to ride. Curtis made sure Farah was ready to go before he headed out, but he remained silent for the jaunt. Once they arrived at the river, he pulled Mystery to a halt. The Palomino mare slid obediently to a stop. Curtis slid off the saddle, hopping to the ground. His boots crunched on the snow. Carefully, he looped the mare's reins to a branch. Mystery seemed nonplussed. The mare swished her cropped tail, relaxed.
“I figure we'll start here, and see what bites,” Curtis told Farah, as he undid his saddle bag. He handed his extra pole to the woman, seeing as he noticed she hadn't brought her own. He dropped a glass jar onto the ground, careful not to break it. Inside, a big bunch of nightcrawlers wriggled. Gross, but it got the job done. Moving in fluid motions, Curtis baited his hook, and strode to the edge of the water.
Settling down on a rock, Curtis shivered against the cold. But the thought of fresh, pan-fried fish made his mouth water, and his stomach rumble. Hard tack could only go so far.
Having dismounted Fantasma and securing her to a nearby tree, Farah gladly accepted the offered fishing pole. She wasn’t particularly looking forward to making her own so she was grateful for Curtis’s generosity. Quickly following suit, she baited her hook and made for the water’s edge. Before settling down she scoped out a flat rock big enough to sit on and brushed the snow from its surface.
Farah cast her line out with a bit more force than was probably necessary and felt the slightest twinge in her shoulder. She probably strained something while chopping wood this morning. Just another thing she’d need to be mindful of for the day.
“So Curtis, what kinda fish you think we gonna find today? I’m hoping for some trout. Been a long time since I had some good trout- Oh! Or some catfish. Hmm you think there’s catfish out here?” She added in quick succession. The thought of fresh fish, even catfish had her thoughts racing.
Curtis didn’t mind sharing his supplies at all; being the livery owner meant he often lent out or helped pair up horses and riders. Therefore, he was no stranger to lending, and he was certain Farah would take good enough care of the fishing rod. And if not? Well, they weren’t hard to craft, really.
“It’s cold enough we oughta see a mess of trout,” he mused, settling down on the now clear rock some inches away from Farah. He was nothing if not a gentleman, nor did he feel like getting on her or Carmen’s bad side by getting too personable on accident. “But if not, there’s bound to be some bottom feeders we can drag up,” he nodded. “Catfish or the like, certainly. Not my favorite; they taste muddy if you don’t fry ‘em up just right. But I’ll take muddy over one more day of dried rations,” he added, wrinkling his nose in disgust.
“See that's the secret, you gotta get the mud outta em’ before you cook them up. Keep em live in a tub for a few days and change out the water each day. They'll filter out a lot of the gunk in their system real fast!” Farah responded excitedly.
A smirk crossed her face at the latest thought. “You ever been noodlin’, Horses?” Farah questioned with the added gesture of wiggling the fingers on her hand in his direction.
“Well, guess I learned something new?” Curtis laughed, as he flicked his line back out into the water. “I suppose that’s one of the benefits of living in this crazy place; we’re all equal here with the toxicity and the danger. I can learn from anyone,” he shrugged. Curtis, like most of his generation, was raised that women and men had separate duties, and separate lives. But since coming here, engaging with the Hellzone, he started to understand that…gasp…women were people too, and he might learn a thing or two from them. Besides, Farah and her…well…couldn’t really say wife as it wasn’t binding but…person…made him feel less like a freak himself. So, he had already decided she was good company.
“Noodling?” He repeated, raising a brow. He wasn’t exactly certain of the term, but it sounded either woodsy or inappropriate, and he wouldn’t put either question past Farah.
With a chuckle Farah pulled in her line to try and snag something bigger in the deeper part of the river. “Noodlin’! So ya go out into a river. Preferably a slow moving one or a swamp. Find a catfish hole along the shore an’ ya stick your arm in it and wiggle your fingers.” She added the motion along with her explanation. “Those fish’ll think your fingers is worms and take a bite so you just grab em’ by the insides of their gills and drag em’ back out of the water.” Another swift flick and her line was back out. “Though you gotta be careful the fish isn’t bigger than you can lift or you ain’t coming back up for air. … Pretty sure that’s what happened to François…” She mumbled the last thought out loud.
He stared at her in horror, line forgotten for a moment. Nothing tugged at it, which was for the best, as Curtis was abjectly floored by the description of ‘Noodling.’
“Why in God’s great name would I want to do that?” He sputtered, still looking shocked. Mystery flicked an ear, hearing the distress in her rider’s words, but thinking nothing much of it. Humans were strange creatures, always making their weird noises, and she had better things to do than worry about it.
“I mean, sure, if you’re desperate for food that’s one thing? But it sounds like you do this for fun, and…no, thanks,” he said, shaking his head. “I mean, it’s bad enough I’ll throw myself on a green colt and try to get my neck broke, but I’ve never used my own flesh as fresh bait, and I don’t plan on it any time soon.”
The short woman bellowed a belly laugh at the man’s distress. Some of these boys she swore. “You gotta live a lil’ there Horses. It’s fun! Plus you don’t need no line or bait, it keeps ya cool and you get to go for a nice swim.” Although you had to watch out for gators, but she wasn’t going to instill more fear in her companion. You could only razz someone so much before they actually got pissed off.
Curtis was about to say something back, a retort about how he was fine sweltering in the heat, thanks…but something caught his attention. He frowned, stilling himself completely. There it was again! Something was crashing through the frozen undergrowth. Curtis moved quick. Leaping up, he abandoned his line. By now, Mystery was screaming in fear, fighting at the reins that bound her to the tree branch. The palomino mare was terrified. Curtis’s heart pounded.
“Something’s coming!” He shouted, as if Farah couldn’t figure that out for herself. He moved as quick as he could, racing for Mystery’s saddle. He could find another cane pole to fish with, but he was loath to lose his horse or his head. He tried to calm the mare, but she was incensed, half-rearing. Curtis freed her from the tree, keeping a tight hold on the reins. She circled once or twice before he managed to mount up, reaching for the Bowie knife he kept strapped to his thigh. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.
Whatever the hell it was charged closer, bellowing with anger. Curtis felt icy fear slam through his body, and it felt almost as if time dilated for a moment as he tried to move. Farah would have to get her affairs in order if she wanted to live, but he wasn’t about to abandon her either. So, he put his heels to the mare’s sides, trying to get between Farah and whatever the hell was running toward them.
While Curtis ran for his horse, Farah too threw her rod to the side and scrambled for Fantasma. She tossed her head aggressively in an attempt to free her reins. Tripping only slightly on the loose rock under her feet, she drew her sidearm in anticipation of whatever in god’s name was about to attempt to murder them. Whatever it was it sounded big, maybe a buffalo?
She grabbed for the horse’s reins in an attempt to free them but Fantasma’s efforts had only tightened the binding more to the branch. Damn it all, this was not the time to be stuck! Swiftly she grabbed her hunting knife and cut the leather straps, she’d rather have to steer with the horses withers than be grounded with the approaching creature.
Now freed from her binds, Fantasma readied herself to challenge the approaching storm. Farah quickly hopped into her saddle and gripped her mane, readying her revolver. “God be damned! I just wanted some fish.” She cursed at the whole situation.
“Perks of living in Hell,” Curtis quipped back, barely able to rein in his Palomino mare as the…thing crashed into view. It was what could have once been described as a bull. A longhorn, to be specific. Great, that wasn’t bad. A crazed Hellbeast with the wingspan of an albatross wouldn’t be a problem, nooo. The creature’s hide was covered in what appeared to be rocky growths and a stinking, black, gooey liquid that spattered the ground and burned the snow away with heat. The bull’s eyes glowed almost red in the brightness of the midmorning sun.
“Any ideas how not to die?” Curtis yelled, reigning in Mystery as he jogged the horse from side to side. The mare had her ears plastered to her skull. He wished he’d brought a gun, but he’d not gotten his hands on one since moving here, and he’d pawned the last one to get the coin to travel here. Stupid decisions, but there was little he could do now. Either his hunting knife would suffice, or he was dead meat.
“I suggest run,” he called out, glancing over to see if Farah had gotten herself settled in the saddle. While he wanted to live, he wasn’t chicken shit enough to abandon her here. He had some manners, even if it killed him.
“DEFINITLY RUN!” Farah called back to her companion as she lined up a shot from her saddle. She’d been aiming for the head, between the eyes but the creature lowered its head to begin a charge in their direction and the bullet glanced off one of the rocky outcrops on its neck.
She spurred Fantasma into a gallop, much to the mare’s displeasure and making sure her companion was attempting the same behind her. The mare desperately wanted to fight but she was willing to take on things twice her size or more at the drop of a hat. Farah didn’t see this particular fight going her way what with all the plating and the giant horns for gorin’.
“Hopefully we can lose it in the ravine up there, if not maybe we can pull it around the side wall and have the soldiers take aim while we pull it along with us! Make it better odds.” She yelled back as she lined up her side arm once again.
“Running’s good,” Curtis agreed, putting his heels to the palomino mare’s sides. Perhaps he could have been gentler, but Mystery forgave him in the heat of it all. The horse shot off, rocketing towards the ravine. Despite years of practice at riding horseback, Curtis still found it hard to sit the gallop as the mare streaked towards their target destination. She rushed forward, slipping and sliding on the snowy stones. Curtis wished that Farah’s shot had gotten the critter, but it had lowered its head at just the worst moment.
So, they had little chance but to do exactly as she said – try to lose the bull in the ravine, or hope the border patrols could take it out. There weren’t many other choices…except give up and die, and Curtis wasn’t quite ready for that yet. He felt the ground rumbling under the cacophony of hooves, both horse and bull, shaking the ground. The beast didn’t seem to want to give up the chase, thundering after Farah and him.
Taking the second shot as they entered the ravine, Farah managed to deal a good blow to the beast’s shoulder. It however continued on its war path after them. Rocks and gravel vibrated beneath their steps and the echo of the creature’s angry calls could be heard down the way now.
Fantasma snorted and tossed as she galloped. She so desperately wanted to turn and face her opponent, not play tag. Farah did her best to keep the beast on the path towards the walls with her grip in the horse's mane. Of all the times for the reins to get tangled.
She was sure to make sure Curtis kept stride alongside her. She didn’t need him falling behind and blocking her shots. Or get himself killed, that was also not the greatest. As far as Farah could tell, he was a decent fellow and it’d be a shame to lose him.
With her head on a swivel, Farah searched their surroundings for any sort of thing that could slow the demon beast down or help get them out of the whole situation. “We’ve gotta think of something. Keep your eyes peeled, maybe we can find something to trip it up!” She wasn’t a religious woman but she was definitely praying for a miracle.
Curtis never had been too much on church himself, but he sure as hell was saying a mental prayer as he and Mystery scrambled into the ravine. Something caught his eye above them, and a plan shot to the forefront of his mind. He wasn’t sure it would work, but it was better than giving up and getting gored to death. Gritting his teeth, Curtis calculated how far away they were – from the large, teetering boulder on the upper edge of the ravine. There was a small deerpath up to the top of the ridge, and he could only hope Mystery was agile enough to get up there. The palomino was doing her damndest, but her breath was heavy and she was flecked with sweat.
“Keep him on that path,” Curtis yelled, nodding to the boulder. “Squish him like a fucking bug,” he yelled. Hoping that Farah heard him, and agreed with the idea, he tore off to the side. The bull glanced his way, but decided that Farah made better prey, and charged after her. Curtis, meanwhile, was begging the fates of the universe that he and Mystery could get up the path safely. They slipped and scrambled, knowing time was against them. If they missed this, Farah was dead meat, and they’d abandoned her. Curtis didn’t like that feeling.
As they reached the top of the ravine, Curtis dug his heels into Mystery’s sides. The obedient palomino sprang forward, rushing across the snowy ridge. The boulder loomed. Curtis dismounted while he slowed Mystery, using the last of his momentum to slam into the rock with all his might. It hurt like hell. For a moment, nothing happened, and his heart dropped. Then, with a horrible crashing sound, the boulder rolled free and into the ravine. Hoping Farah and her horse had gotten clear, Curtis looked down with trepidation.
The dust was settling. And he no longer heard the thundering of the bull. In fact, he was pretty sure that was a long horn or two sitting squashed under the rock. He felt his heart clamber down from his throat, and Curtis let out a heavy sigh, shaking from adrenaline.
“Farah?” He called, loud as he could. He needed to know she was okay.
Curtis was a madman. And Farah couldn’t of been prouder at the man’s brass to scramble up that cliffside. Gauging the distance from her path and that of the boulder, she spurred Fantasma to pick up her pace all while hooping and hollering like some kind of Indian brave or mad woman. The more she could convince the bull to follow her and not her ballsy companion, the better. Luckily all the noise did its job and the bull charged on behind her.
She stowed her sidearm and stood loose in the saddle, arms outstretched at her sides. It was up to Curtis, Fantasma and fate at this point as the boulder cracked from its perch and began to tumble down the cliffside. Smaller rocks and debris tumbled along with it as it crashed down.
Fantasma, ever the determined mount, drove her hooves into the dirt and stones as she propelled herself and her rider through the cloud of dust and gravel that glanced past her flank. With a great crash the boulder hit home directly into the side of the longhorn before continuing its path up the other side of the ravine and back down into the path further down. A few of the other larger rocks had stopped at the body luckily avoiding a full landslide.
As the dust started to settle Farah heard Curtis call for her from his tower of stone. She responded with some more hoops and hollers as she scrambled herself up the cliffside still loose on Fantasma’s back. She circled around and met the man back at the site of destruction, slowing Fantasma into a walk. “Hells be damned, I haven't had that much fun in a long time! Nothin’ like almost diein’ to get the blood pumpin.” She called over to the man while smiling like a git. Truly she was a madwoman. “We get it Horses?” she questioned as she looked into the ravine below them. She assumed as much from the lack of bull nipping at her heels.
“Thank God, you’re not flattened,” Curtis breathed, almost collapsing in the saddle with relief. Mystery pawed at the earth, as she started to lead him back down the cliffs to the ravine where Farah and her horse waited. “He’s nothing but a smudge now,” Curtis assured her, as Mystery skirted the area where the bull’s body lay, covered in dust and rubble.
“I cannot believe that worked,” he breathed, still shaking as he joined his companion. “I’m so glad you got through,” Curtis wheezed, his face white and his hands trembling. “I wasn’t sure that would work, but…we had to do something,” he shrugged, not managing to look very nonchalant.
“Anyway…I might have lost my appetite,” he laughed shakily. “But some peaceful fishing after that might bring my heart out of my throat,” he added. “As long as that thing didn’t have a herd to go with it,” he breathed. “That was more than enough excitement for one morning, don’t you two say?” He asked, glancing at the other rider beside him.
Farah continued back with Curtis all while smiling that stupid smile. “Bah, takes more n’ that to kill me.” She added with actual nonchalance. “I’m gonna grab a trophy, then I’m down for some relaxin’ fishin.” Farah jumped down from her saddle next to the bulls head before taking her knife and removing its head from its body. Tying it to her saddle, she turned back towards her companion. “Lord knows if I don’t come back with something there’ll be hell to pay.” She added with a laugh. Returning to her saddle, the two rode off back towards the river.