Brimstone

Thunder rumbled over the mountains. Storm clouds darkened the western sky, rolling in over the peaks. Lightning flickered among them, the white forked tongue of a rattlesnake. I could see the town from this distance, nestled at the base of the foothills, like a fat, contented hen under the approaching shadow of the afternoon summer storm. 

At the sight of the town, far-off though it was, thunder rumbled in my chest. In the years since I had been gone, it seemed the place had only prospered, sprawling out even further than before. 

A prosperity grown from sick, rotting roots.

I urged my horse into a gallop, the dust rising from the road to the rhythm of his hooves. The wind tried to tease the hair out of my braid, but I just pressed my hat firmer against my head. 

The closer we got to town, the tighter the band around my heart cinched. So much of it looked the same. The shape of the mountains behind the white-painted houses had carved itself deep into my memory. The spine of the mountain range was a serrated knife against the skin of my heart, and it drew blood. It cut deep. 

Part of me had missed this place I had once called home, and a bit of the anger that burned in me flared. How could a geographical location stir up such a storm of emotion in me? How dare it make me feel any affection toward it at all. 

The storm overhead broke as I rode into town. The moment Firebird’s hooves met the dirt of Main Street, a clap of thunder shook the sky, lightning arcing through the swirling darkness, and rain poured down all at once, like the clouds were a slit waterskin. The streets emptied themselves, as the people of the town scurried into the buildings like rats. I let Firebird walk at his own pace down the road, as I watched the town through the veil of rain. Drops of water fell from the brim of my hat. 

I could taste the electricity in the air. Or perhaps it was blood. The two aren’t so different once they’re between your teeth. The sting and the metallic tang. 

Lightning struck the top of the county courthouse. I half-smiled at the sight. My cue for where to start. 

I dismounted, not bothering to tie Firebird up. He would come when I called. I climbed up the marble steps of the courthouse, slick with rain. The little tower in the center of the building had a golden sheen to it. I sneered at the sight of it. Was that what all the bribes paid for? A little gold plating for the Justice Building? A monument to all their greed. 

I slammed open the doors of the courthouse, the wood shaking from the force. A peal of thunder rolled across the sky as I strode towards the main courtroom. I threw open those doors as well. Court was in session, and a couple dozen faces turned toward me from the pews. I didn’t spare them a look, but strode up the aisle. 

The witness trembled on the stand, the accused stared, his hands still cuffed. The lawyers began to sputter, asking for my identity. Whose side was I on? Was I a witness?

I only had eyes for the judge. It was the same man as before, the man who I had begged to listen to me, but who had only had eyes for the shiny gold coins that had been dropped into his grubby hands. He was quite a bit older now, hair streaked with gray, pulling back from his shiny, wrinkled forehead. 

“Hello Judge Brown. Remember me?”

He squinted at me. “I’ve never seen you before, young lady. Now, won’t you explain why you’ve interrupted the sacred proceedings of the court in such a…dramatic manner?”

“Jane Casper. That name…ring any bells?”

HIs eyes widened slightly, enough for me to tell that he recognized my name after all. “Jane…Casper?” he repeated. “You…?”

“The girl you stripped of home and livelihood, whom you bled dry, and then whom you exiled after you realized your mistake. Yes. That Jane Casper.”

The crowd began to whisper and murmur behind me. 

“The mayor wanted to line his pockets with my inheritance, and he bribed you with the money he stole from me. You had me beaten for a crime I didn’t commit. But worst of all…I was the least of your victims. I met the others on the road, you see. Widows, and orphans, like me, who you robbed of life and hope. Wives whose husbands were broken by the beatings you ordered because they could not pay the corrupt taxes the mayor levied against them. Mothers whose sons languished in prison for crimes they had never committed.”

An outcry began to break out behind me. A man was shouting the name of his son. A woman about the price she had paid to help her friend save her farm. 

I slid my gun from its holster, cocked it and pointed it straight at the judge’s head. I watched the blood drain from his face. 

“Listen, young lady,” he said, holding up his empty hands, palm out. “Let’s talk about this. I understand you feel you were wronged. Justice ain’t always perfect. Sometimes mistakes are made. Let’s figure out the solution together.”

I scoffed. “How dare you say the word justice. You don’t know the meaning of the word.” I laughed again. “It’s too late for ‘solutions,’ anyways. You see, Mr. Brown., today?”

I paused for just a moment. “It’s Judgment Day.” And I shot him in the face. He toppled like a bowling pin. The sound of the shot bounced around the now dead-silent courtroom. Outside the sound of rain had changed to hail. 

I turned to face the crowd behind me. I recognized many of the faces. The same ones that had watched me be dragged away. 

I swung my gun in an arc before me, watching the people duck behind the pews with exclamations.

“None of you are innocent. None who watched and so much as twitched a muscle to help. None who looked on and did not even breathe a word of truth. You are all just as guilty. But you have a chance to redeem yourselves. Tell the mayor he had better be standing outside in the middle of Main Street at noon tomorrow, or I’ll burn this whole town to the ground.” 

I stalked out of the courthouse and whistled for Firebird. There would be no staying in town tonight. To the safety of the wild country it was. I enjoyed the smell of pine trees in the safety of the foothills. I spent a pleasant night under the stars, the storm long passed. 

Noon came quickly. This time the afternoon was dry as a bone, the sun blazing directly overhead in a watchful blue sky, no clouds to shade the earth. I rode straight up Main Street. No mayor in sight. Instead I was greeted by the full police force, immediately surrounding me. 

I cracked my neck, and then my knuckles. Game on. 

I spun Firebird in a circle as I whipped both of my pistols from their holsters. The first two men got a bullet right between the eyes. That’s what they got for being so eager to prove themselves. The next one lost a few fingers from his right hand with a spurt of blood. 

I heard the whistle of a bullet past my ear. Close. But Firebird was fast, and so was I. The closest man tried to knock me from the saddle with a sturdy stick, but instead I pulled him off his horse. Sweat dripped into my eyes, but I whacked the next man across the chin with the club that I had just torn from the previous man’s hands. 

The others were a little more calculated. I caught a bullet in the meat of my left shoulder. I managed to slam my pistol into its holster as my arm went limp. I shot a little wildly, but it was enough, catching one man right in the gut (I hissed a bit at that…I didn’t wish such a slow, painful death on anyone, but my aim was off). The other bullet got a man’s horse, sending man and beast tumbling to the ground. I winced. I didn’t want the poor horse to pay for the crime of the man. 

Then it was just me and one last man, who bore a thick, bristly mustache, a gap-toothed grimace and quite a lot of muscle mass. He rode fast at me, swinging his meaty fist right at my face. I ducked, but he landed a blow on my chin. I saw a bit of sparkly fireworks in my vision, but thankfully Firebird was a smart, trusty companion. He reared, as I clung desperately to the saddle horn, and his hooves came down hard on the man–a deputy judging by his badge. There was a little spatter of blood on it. I wheeled Firebird away, firing off one last shot at the deputy. 

Well. Fire and brimstone it would be.