Aces Low – Act II

By Owen Lean May, 1882Lane Healey and I planned to rendezvous two weeks later in Santa Fe. Now, as I approached the San Miguel church, I could see the simpleton standing in its shadow looking impatient. Good. If he was irritated, he’d be easier to manipulate. On the...

Aces Low – Act I

By Owen Lean April, 1882There is absolutely nothing lucky about the number seven—anyone who tells you that is a fool. As I have discovered over the years, the truly potent number is one higher. It came as no surprise to me then that the clock in the town square struck...

Blood In The Dust

By Jeff Bailey Wendy Cheng, formerly known as Xiong, slumped against a hitching rail and surveyed her shadow cast by the midday sun. She traced the outline of her shotgun stock that jutted out over her shoulder. She’d seen that shadow for years. She tried to remember...

Falling Star

by Jeff Bailey In most of the world, sunset was the sun’s warm embrace across the world before it receded. In Gomorra, it was the night’s slicing talons through the sky until its grip tightened to darkness. The fingers clawed over ruined rooftops, but hadn’t yet...

Out For Blood

By Jeff Bailey  Lucy Clover had suggested the theater, arguing they wouldn’t get a sense of Tombstone only by looking for roughnecks to put down. “A town without community is a prison without walls.”  She and Wendy Cheng arrived early for the evening show at...

Stupid Things

By Jason Pere The Bayou Vermilion train continued its creaky journey through Arizona’s southern desert.  Its giltwork trim and gaudy colors contrasted with the harsh land it traversed. Xiong “Wendy” Cheng counted cacti as the train began its slow climb up yet...