11 Guns and Ammo

PA SURPRISED US by stopping at the gun shop on Second Avenue before we took Aubrey home.

“You’re hanging around these ranch kids more and more, Aubrey,” Mom Ash said. “You ought to get a look at what they’re looking at.”

“Are we getting guns?” Kyle asked.

“Ramie’s interested in some reproductions, but it’s a good idea for you to have good side-arms when you are out running around the ranch. We’ve been hearing more reports of wolves in the lower hills lately and you might not have time to reach your rifles,” Pa said.

Kurt at the gun shop showed us a bunch of good handguns and Pa made Kyle and me pick out a good sidearm. He told Aubrey to pick one out, too, and he’d keep it up at the ranch for when she visited. She was a little shy of them but once Kurt took us out to his shooting range and she fired off a few rounds, she got a little more enthusiastic. We all walked off with Remington Model 1911s.

But I really wanted to look at Kurt’s classic revolvers. I pointed out the one I wanted to look at. I was sure it was almost like the ones I took off the dead kidnappers and strapped to Miranda’s hips.

“That’s an 1851 Colt Navy reproduction,” Kurt said. “Most everything about it is like the originals. It’s a single action, six-shot revolver. The only difference is that this one takes cartridges and the original was a percussion gun. You had to stuff the cap, powder, and ball into it with this tamping rod built onto the barrel.”

“How do you do that?”

“Well, it’s a simple process but it takes a little getting used to. Let me see what I’ve got here.” He turned and opened a gun safe behind the counter. I was sure he knew exactly what he had. Kurt was like that. He laid a gun almost identical to the reproduction on the felt cloth. “This is a restoration. A few years ago—well, back in the 70s—they tore out the interior of the last brothel in Laramie. That’s where Lovejoy’s is now. It’s on the historic register and I was on the crew that was assessing the reconstruction. We came across this gun jammed into the paneling and I bought it. Wasn’t much. Took me ten years to restore it.”

“Pa, I want this gun,” I said. There wasn’t any question in my mind. I’m sure every Colt Navy felt exactly the same, but damn it! I’d held this one in my hands before. I knew it.

“Whoa! Nobody said it was for sale,” Kurt said. “Course, I’d trade it for your Pa’s Smith and Wessons. That would be even.”

“No!” I answered before Pa could say anything. “Those guns belong at the ranch. If you won’t sell it to me, at least teach me how it loads and fires. Will you do that, Kurt?” He chewed on the inside of his lip.

“How many times a week are you meeting with Merv Longsteer?” Kurt asked me. I looked at Pa quickly and saw his mouth twitch.

“Two ... Twice a week. Lunch on Monday and Wednesday,” I said. Apparently, Pa already knew I was leaving school in the middle of the day to go visit Merv. I was coming along with my knife skills and I was damned glad of it.

“I’ve got an after-school job for you if you want it. Tuesday and Thursday afternoon. Still get you home in time for dinner. If your brother and his girlfriend want to work, there’s enough for the three of you.”

I dreamed about the gun that night. Kurt showed me the rudiments of loading the Colt Navy. I kept going over every step in my mind. I was asleep long before Kyle and Aubrey were finished. I had visions of Miranda in my brain and cool air from my open window whipped me away. There was that old raven sitting there and calling me.

Awkawkawkawk!

I couldn’t breathe. It was dark and skinny hard fingers gripped my throat. The bony hand of death had me in his grip. I could see a deeper darkness settling in. I swung my arm with all my force at the monster killing me.

I hit her with the barrel of the Colt in my hand. Hit her hard. She fell off of me and I rolled away coughing and trying to stand up to breathe. I swung the Colt around frantically, looking for a target. There were stars in my eyes but I was beginning to see shapes. Two of them were huddled by the wagon. The other lay sprawled on the ground at my feet. I kicked her in the shoulder and she rolled over moaning.

Well, at least I didn’t kill the little bitch.

“Demon Ramie, you saved me. I thought you’d abandoned me.”

Miranda, I’m not...

“I know. I’m sorry. What should I call you? You are so powerful and you can take over my body.”

I’m not trying to take over your body, Miranda. She was killing us.

“Yes. Thank you. I...”

Could you just call me Ramie? Or if you have to, friend?

“Friend Ramie. You are my friend, aren’t you?”

I’ve been worried sick about you. Are you okay? How long have I been gone?

“You have been gone only a day, but I feel so empty when you are not with me. We are all ... frightened. Harriet has been frantic. She sometimes strikes the other girls without provocation. And now this.”

You’re going to be bruised.

“It is painful, but I am alive, thanks to you.”

The girl, Harriet moaned and one of the other girls silently brought water to her. She looked cautiously at me the whole time but carefully helped Harriet drink. I realized I was still holding the Colt in my hand. I didn’t really want to let go of it but resolutely shoved it in the holster. I left my hand there, but relinquished control of Miranda’s body to her.

I’m sorry I took control without your permission.

“Must I forgive you for saving my life? It shocks me, but I cannot object. It is such a strange feeling to not have control over my own body.”

Let’s see if we can get some answers from this bitch.

Harriet was staring at us. Snarling like a wolf.

“Why did you try to kill me,” Miranda demanded. “I have been only kind to you.”

“Witch! You summon demons to do your bidding. Unholy abomination.” I guess that summed up her feelings pretty well.

Bet she’s from Massachusetts. Don’t say that!

“You cannot travel with us if I cannot trust you,” Miranda’s voice rasped. It hurt to speak. “That goes for you two, as well. I am going to St. Louis. I am taking that wagon and horses. If that is not where you wish to go, leave with her in the morning.”

We sat the rest of the night against a tree near the horses. She slept, but I stayed awake. It was odd. I couldn’t see anything because Miranda’s eyes were closed. But I could hear the girls settle down and their breathing even out. I could feel the cold brass of the Colt beneath my fingers. Extending just those senses, I could tell exactly where everyone in the camp was.

It was a long night.

I heard Harriet get up before dawn. Miranda was asleep but I could still manipulate her body—still hear clearly where the girl was. I drew the Colt and held it in my lap following the movement of her steps. Soon, after a quick whisper to one of the other girls—Katie?—she slipped away and I heard her ill-concealed steps as she crashed away from camp and faded into the woods. I opened one eye and Miranda began to stir in the back of my consciousness.

My throat hurt. I lifted my chin to swallow and groaned. Katie was up out of her blanket and scampering to me with a canteen. Beulah rolled over and continued to sleep. The girl held the canteen to my lips.

“Poisoned?” I croaked. She looked truly horrified as she shook her head. Lighten up, kid. It was a joke. I gulped at the water. Every swallow hurt. I hoped the bitch hadn’t done any long-term damage to Miranda’s windpipe or vocal cords. I could live without ever feeling that again.

“Must we get up? I am so tired,” Miranda moaned in our minds.

I don’t feel comfortable with that girl wandering around in the woods. We are nowhere near far enough away yet.

“Where are we going?”

Where do you want to go, Miranda? Your stepfather sold you for his gambling debt. Do you really want to chase after him?

“He owes me. He could do the same thing to Theresa. I can’t let that happen. I have to get to her.”