Episode 1: Redhead Redemption

Kinship Texas.

Population 2021.

Same as the year.

A quiet little one-horse town, unless you count the Harley’s. At one time it was a bustling little community of small family-owned businesses. Surrounding a large Aviation parts manufacturer, it kept the locals fed and clothed. Over a hundred years earlier there used to be ranches and farms. One horse per family in most cases. Back then Kinship was named Next of Kin. Graveyards for fallen soldiers escaping the Alamo. Don’t believe what you’ve read in the History books. Hell, there’s even a family with the last name Crockett living here. Boone even. Speaking of...

“How’s it coming back there Boone?” A stunning redhead with her long red mane pulled around her shoulders lifts her head, its tips died black as if feathers. Swigging a drink from a tin flask she waits on a reply after buzzing stops. Eyes narrow from a hard night of drinking.

“You try finishing a tat when your canvas is as naked as the day she was born.” Her native American tattoo artist scowls wiping away blood from her upper back. He had been working on this woman for 18 hours straight. She had barely flinched. Unlike his dick. Halting only to smoke a cigarette and rub one off every four hours behind her. This bitch was fucking fine. He had known her since childhood. Both born here in the early 90’s.

“Quit stroking your tattoo gun and finish up. My train leaves in...” She reaches to her right for a pocket watch dangling from her jeans next to her...”8 hours, 15 minutes. Gonna be done by then?”

“You’re the one wanting the full back and shoulders done. Be glad I finished your tits yesterday. How are those hands holding them up?”

“Reaching for the sky Pardner.”

“You’re one tough girl Sadie Lynn. So, where’s the Army deploying you next?”

“Nowhere, I’m out. Staying stateside this tour. I’m done with deserts.”

“No shit. I thought you were career. Vacay in Hawaii?”

“I wish. Uncle Sam’s got me going to Kansas. Got hired as a head of security at a place called Wyndham Explorations. Tornado alley no less.”

“You always did give good blowjobs.” He sighs firing up his gun to add more ink.

“As if you would know. Must have been a lot of bragging while I was gone.” She rolls her eyes.

“If I get you done early...”

“Not gonna happen Tonto.”

“Now that’s just racist Sadie Lynn.”

“Fuck you Comanche Boy.”

“I’m older than you White Squaw with pretty colors.”

“By two years.”

“I remember wrestling with you as a kid.”

“I whipped your ass every time.”

“Untrue. Be more respectful. Your ass is right here for me to whip.” He dares to slap her ass as he lifts his needle away from filling in the wings of an eagle.

“Good thing that’s not your tattooing hand. Soon as I get up, I’m using that bowie knife by my boot to cut those fingers off.”

“Why? So, I don’t do this?” He jabs a pinky into her anal pucker.

“So dead. I swear.”

He laughs at her. She merely scowls and takes another drink from her flask. “Wish you had more time here. My Grandfather would love a visit from you.”

“Sorry Boone. Between burying my own Grandpa and tying up his will I barely had time to sit here with you. Give Newton my best.”

“He did want to give you something. Ride up there with me for thirty minutes before your train?”

“Fine! Finish the bird before I flip you the talons.”

“Now that you mention it, the gold watch looks damn good in the eagle’s talons.”

“That was important to me. I appreciate the perfection in your talents Boone.”

“I have many talents.”

“Yeah, yeah! Think with your tattoo hand not the one on my ass. My luck you’ll trace your hand on my butt cheek.”

“Interesting idea.” He strategically places his hand over her butt as if planning. She shakes her ass to change his mind. That called for another drink. “Is that your father’s flask?”

“Handed down.” She lifts it to show off, “Sixth generation possession. Been in my family since 1865. My Great yada yada yada Grandpappy Jessup was one of the first Texas Rangers. That’s why there’s a star etched into the pewter. Little wore down in spots but it’s there.”

“Funny that he was a Texas Ranger, but your last name is Outlaw.”

“I know right? He disappeared without a trace in 1877. Word, was he caught wind of some bad hombres in the Texas Rangers and they had him killed. No proof of that, but it’s out there. Definitely not on Ancestry.com.”

“I recall hearing that story now. When we were teenagers. You wrote an essay on the Rangers your sophomore year.”

“You remember that?” She hisses.

“I also remember the Teacher ripping it up calling it hogwash. Not right.”

“Mr. Butler was a prick. I barely passed his history class.”

Boone hesitates to clean her wounds when he hears motorcycles revving outside his Ghost Town Ink parlor. It used to be an old mercantile. Barely up to code these days. Sadie Outlaw lifts her head groggily from the booze intake. Two days of hard drinking was just now taking its toll. Definitely no lightweight. She could drink most men under the table.

Stirring Boone felt uneasy about the new arrivals. “You better get your clothes on.”

“Why? As if I’m afraid of a few bikers.”

“You may be a badass in the Army Sadie, but we’re talking gangs here. That’s Korso and his crew, the Copperheads.”

She stares out a lone picture window in the front of Boone’s shop, to see six burly bikers with enough hair to be women. She corks her flask and reaches over for her knife. Sliding it closer she grins. Nothing spooked the Outlaw.

“Keep inking.”

“Your gangbang Sadie.”

“You’re here as back up. Break out your tomahawk.”

“Already have it handy.” It was in a specially designed slot beneath his table believe it or not.

“Can’t be too handy if your free hands still rubbing my ass cheek.”

“Sorry.” He removes it not even realizing it was still hovering. Approaching the front door Jake Korso barged in with the sound of a jingling doorbell over the threshold. He was a good 280 pounds of muscle, tattoos, and beard. Following him in were two others, less threatening, but ugly just the same.

“Afternoon Boone Tickle Bear.”

“Korso. What brings you to my reservation?’

The burly biker rubs his beard looking over Sadie. “Mighty fine canvas you got there. Howdy Ma’am.” He winks at her.

“Stop being respectful. You know I’m no Ma’am. Call it as you see it.” She narrows her eyes at him while sifting through her jeans for a pack of cigarettes and a butane lighter. Cig to her lips she lets it dangle as the men size her up.

“Nice work there Boone.” Korso looks over Sadie’s shoulders, his eyes trailing over her back to just above her butt crack along the small of her spine, there a very ornate logo of a skull with a crossing of a rifle and a blade. “Special Forces? One shot, One kill. Now isn’t that interesting. What’s the fine print say?”

“It says, Thank You for Your Service.” She huffs.

“Damn! That’s hot.” The two other bikers seemed impressed, both puckering their lips at each other.

“Why are you here Korso?” Boone sets his tattoo gun aside in favor of standing tall.

“Easy Indian. I’m not here for trouble. Just waiting on a package delivery. Damn!” He strokes his beard, “You wanted me to call it how I see it ... that is one extra tight ass.”

“I hear that a lot. Military style. Try bouncing a quarter off of it.” Sadie lights her cigarette and takes a drag without using her fingers, exhaling a thin line of smoke. “I’m sending up smoke signals Boone. Get to work on my tat. Time’s a ticking.”

The bikers admire her fearlessness under pressure. Being totally nude in a compromising position, knowing they would love to manhandle her. They could tell she was tough.

“Mind if I get some privacy here?” She hisses without looking at any of them.

Boone moves to cover up Sadie’s lower body with a towel. Sadie wouldn’t have it.

“What are you, my masseuse? Get that rag off me.” Hearing her Boone frowns. She was trying too hard to be the badass. The bikers would call her out eventually. Removing the towel Boone settles in his lean over her and begins tattooing again. One of the other two bikers moves around Boone making him uneasy.

“Relax. I’m only checking out her other tats. Rattlesnake coiling around both legs.”

“Not a Copperhead.” She growls.

“Too bad. You’d be one fine ole’ lady.”

“Nice tan for a redhead. No tan lines even.” The third biker noticed.

“When you’re in a fuckin’ desert like Afghanistan for six years you have lots of time to fill. Suns harsh, so am I.”

“You talk big.” Korso nods, “No AK-47’s here in Kinship.”

“Don’t need one. AK-47’s is for pussies. I prefer a Norwegian HK416. Battleax with kick.”

“Nice.” The man behind her eyes her parted legs. A sweet pinkness clamped tightly like a clam made his mouth water.

“The Swedewacker or me?” She winces taking another drag.

“Both.” He chuckled.

“Fellas!” Boone rallied to her rescue, “She’s on a timer here. Her train leaves in less than 8 hours and I have at least six hours to finish this tat. Can you please wait outside for your package?”

“Calm down Brother.” Korso raises his palms. “It’s hot out there.”

“Hotter in here.” The third biker known as Roadkill chuckled crouching in front of Sadie. She blows smoke in his face with a wink. Swatting the nicotine aside he smirks for effect. Noting her thong laying with her bra and other clothing he stands picking it up to inhale it. “Oh, that’s beautiful.”

She lifts her head eying his enjoyment, “Those won’t fit your fat ass.”

“My big dick wouldn’t fit in that tight ass pussy.”

‘Had bigger than you, I’m sure.”

“Damn you got spunk.”

“What part of privacy don’t you get?” She hisses with a bitter bite.

“Beware Brothers.” Boone shakes his head.

“I think she’s all talk.” Beastro, the second biker chuckles. “These snakes here lead up to some fangs?” His hand caresses her inner thighs, easing in between her leg’s mere inches from her pussy.

“Only one way to find out.” She reopens her flask taking a drink before corking it again and setting it aside. She winks at Roadkill still sniffing at her thin white thong. As Beastro rubs fingers along her slit Boone reaches for his hand. Korso in turn pats his concealed Glock.

“Like that Chica?” He grins toward his friends.

Nodding she clamps her inner thighs hard around his hand pinning him in. Rolling over she drags him sideways into an awkward stance. Raising her butane lighter she ignites a fire and spits her whisky at Korso. A blinding flash of flame makes him flinch. Leaping off the table holding her bowie knife up to Korso’s chin while Beastro falls to the floor at their feet, she leers at Roadkill who had pulled his gun. Before any further violence could ensue the bikers outside whistled loudly.

“Bet I can sever his carotid and blind you with his blood before you get off a shot Panty Waste.” Roadkill looks at Korso. Korso’s attention dropped to her 38C’s with hand tattoos palming both breasts. Both hands with a middle finger pointed high flipping him the birds.

“Holy shit!” Beastro grunts from the floor looking up between her legs. “Bitch has Rattler heads bearing fangs over her cunt.”

“Bet my venoms tastier than yours. I let your hand go you get up and walk out of here. Let me get my artwork finished in peace. Pleasure was all mine.”

Korso notes a Police Bronco outside. An Officer getting out. “Yaeger’s here. Put your blade away Hotstuff. No threats.”

She unclamps her upper thighs releasing Beastro to wave his arm to regain circulation. She smirks. “Just imagine what I can do if your dick was in there. Maybe your face.”

“Damn! Bitch is crazy.”

Another jingle of the door, a large older Cop entered removing his sunglasses. Eying Sadie from head to toe he shakes his head. “Same ole’ Sadie Outlaw. Trouble at every turn. Gentlemen? Not so gentle I’m sure ... word of advice? Find yourselves another hookup. How many confirmed kills you got now Sadie?”

“Forty-two shy of Chris Kyle’s record Wyatt. Not even a Sniper.”

“How’s about with that knife there?”

“27. Four from thirty feet away.”

“Jesus!” Roadkill tosses her thong on a chair.

“Keep ‘em to remember me by.” She growls.

“I’ll pass.”

“Outside Boys.” Sheriff Wyatt Yaeger encourages the bikers with a nod. “Nice work Boone. My grandson Duke might hit you up here soon. He’s been talking crazy. Something about a cobra. Too many snakes in these parts as it is. Copperheads. Rattlers...”He eyes Sadie’s long legs. “Good to see you again Sadie. How long you in town? Deployed again?”

“Out for good Wyatt.” She slaps Beastro on the ass in passing. Looking over his shoulder he sees her blow him a kiss. “See you around lover. Gonna say anything about my indecent exposure Wyatt?”

“Would it do any good?” Yaeger frowns.

“You know you always liked the girls.” She points at her tits. “The boys don’t like you much though. As you can tell by their hissy fit.” By the boys she was referring to her twin rattler tattoos surrounding her thighs and snapping fangs at her cunt.

“Nice birds. Give my best to your Momma.” He tips his Stetson and takes his leave. Before resuming her outstretched position on the cushioned tattoo recliner, she watches Wyatt and the bikers talking.

“Some things are better not knowing Sadie Lynn.”

“I hear you Boone.” She really couldn’t have cared less.

With the dust settled Boone Tickle Bear continued his work. In five hours instead of six. He was proud of how it turned out. Her eagle looked majestic and savage at the same time. Coating her with antibacterial ointment and sealing it in under plastic wrap he sits back and has a cigarette with her.

“Bike or Jeep? Either of them even run these days?” She sits up getting dressed. Forsaking her bra due to the tat she tosses on her black tank top. Tossing her thong in his garbage can with a frown she points at him. “Don’t go digging those out and hanging them from your rearview mirror.” Smirking she shrugs, “Aw hell! Live a little.”

“Jeep runs. Suzuki needs a fuel pump.”

“Let’s go see Newton before I run out of time. My Mom’s driving me over to El Paso to catch my train.”

“One can never run out of time unless the clock stops.”

“Always a shadow clock. I thought you Indians invented that.”

“Laying on the Earth Mother prematurely invites the vultures.”

Pulling her jeans up he gets his final view of two dueling Rattlers fighting over her burning bush. She knew Boone was staring. Hissing at him she winks, “One snake in, one snake out. Only skin needs shedding is lambskin.”

“Why do you taunt me so?”

Patting his chest, she puts her socks and boots on. Lastly her women’s black Silverado cowboy hat with shiny silver disks banding the brim. “Ready to ride?”

“Right here.” He unzips his own jeans. All he got from her was playful sneer. Out the door she went. Lights out Boone locks up his parlor and walks with her around to the back where his old 1973 Jeep Commando was hiding.

“Some things never change. Hopefully the oil.” She sighs. Crawling up into the Jeep she listens at a horrible turnover of the engine. Boone peaks a brow as it finally starts.

“Still life in the old stallion.”

“Good. Maybe I’ll fuck Newton when we get there.”

“You are indeed merciless Sadie Lynn.”

“You know it.” She rubs his leg letting her fingertips slip over his obvious erection. “Oh, not the gear shift. My bad.”

“Clutch first.” He pushes it down to the floor. Instead of rubbing his crotch she yanks the shifter into reverse.

“Two hours. Ride like the wind Cochise.”

“Apache. Get your tribes right.”

“Whatever. DRIVE!”

“I am so very offended.” Regardless he smiled at the beauty. Reaching the edge of town Boone veered off the beaten path into a rather turbulent journey. Holding on for dear life Sadie had slipped up in judgment by not fastening her seatbelt. A seriously uneven piece of private real estate sent her toppling left into Boone. Her chest rubbing his arm gave him the idea to hit every pothole on the prairie.

“I’m so gonna beat your ass once we stop.” She growls holding the windshield frame and the dash. He wasn’t giving her time to look for a seatbelt. Not that there was one. The Jeep being as old as it was had a few less accessories since inherited.

“Relax. At least I have airbags if we flip over.” He wags his eyebrows while checking out her tits. Nipple action noticed he chuckles, “So that’s where I misplaced my arrowheads.”

“You’re a riot Tickle Bear. Gramps still living up on that bluff?”

“Ancestral land. What little we have left on the Rez. By the way, tell me about this new job. You apply for it?”

“Nope! General Westmore actually approached me about it. Said he recommended me.”

“What did you call the place again?”

“Wyndham Explorations.” Another hard jostle nearly throws her out the side of the vehicle. No doors didn’t help.

“Exploring what?”

“Top secret stuff. I’m just the new security chief. Everything moved so fast with my Gramps dying from Cancer six months ago then dad dying last month, I barely got the gist of the place. Big complex though. All I had time for was a brief introduction. Signed a few wavers threatening lawsuits if I talk about what I see there. Series of inoculations I had to endure which kind of made me stress over. What type of Explorations am I going to be doing in a building? Right? Unless there’s biochemical shit going on that I’m not privy to.”

“Kansas you say? Maybe they plan on sending you to Oz.”

“Hope not. Singing munchkins and flying monkeys make me nervous. Of course, I might swipe a few gold bricks on my way back home.” She laughs as the countryside levels a bit more. It didn’t last long. This part of Texas was pretty rugged. Mountains in the distance although not the largest in West Texas still challenged the locals. As they continued onward Sadie found pleasant memories of the area. Her Uncle Brandon used to bring her there in her teens and teach her rock climbing. She grew up tough and thrived on it. She missed her Uncle Brandon who passed while on a tour during Desert Storm. It was he that inspired her to beat the odds and become one of the very few women in the Army Special Forces. Without him to tutor her in pretty much everything he knew before his tour she might not be the invincible bitch she had matured into.

“Getting close Sadie.”

Snapping out of the traffic of memory lane at Boone’s revelation Sadie saw smoke rising from a short cliff side. With Boone’s pointed finger she recognized the neighborhood. She often wondered just how an old geezer like Boone’s Grandfather climbed up that high. He had to have been 80 by now. Comanche strong she smiled. At a post driven into the desert floor, marked with a band of eagle feathers, Boone came to a halt. His Jeep sputtered, sending tailpipes smoke signals up as a signature arrival.

“If that buggy doesn’t start back up and I miss my train you are buzzard bait.”

“It will start. Do not worry your pretty little head, Outlaw.”

“Still not bedding you down.”

“Someday my dream will come true.”

“My hormones have been riled up of late, which is weird, but I still don’t swing toward fellas whom I call family.”

“Your hormones were always busy.” He grins as they walk together toward a rope ladder heading up the small cliff side.

“Yeah, I know. Kinship as a town moniker didn’t help. I enjoy being friendly.” She laughs as Boone becomes a gentleman offering her the lead on the ladder. Suspicious she shakes her head, “You just wanna watch my ass.”

“I see your ass every time you visit. Is today any different?”

“You know I live to torture you Boone.”

“I manage afterwards.”

“I bet you do.” She makes a hand motion as if he were jerking off. Smirking she accepts the rope after putting on her pair of rawhide gloves. A lesson well learned from many blisters. Although even they seemed to fade away as fast as they were unwelcomed. That was another thing about Sadie, in her entire life she had rarely even caught a cold. She just choked it up to the healing power of good alcohol. Of course, even then she was never drunk long. Zero hangovers no matter how much she imbibed. Her parents always told her that she took after the Outlaw gene more than her mother’s side. Never much thought on it after that.