Cowboys & Devils (Devil Aster Days Book 3) (3 page)

His thoughts returned to the
unfortunate Aster, as the outlaws took off dragging him at top speed towards the edge of town.

Less
than a mile outside of Granger Ulric’s gang found a nice tree. It was a tall, thick oak tree. Barren but sturdy. The lowest hanging branch easily supported the weight of the length of rope that was tossed over it. Two of the men gripped the rope tightly in their hands and started walking away from the tree. On the other end of the rope was Aster.

Being dragged through the dirt for so long
had torn his clothes to shreds but did not hurt him much. Devils are much tougher than humans, after all. He was unconscious for most of the dragging anyway, and only awoke when he felt the pressure of the rope tightening against his neck. He had only to exert a little of his strength and flex his neck slightly to avoid any strangulation.

When Aster opened his eyes, he was facing the tree trunk and slowly spinning. He closed his eyes quickly before turning to face the gang of outlaws. He could hear them already celebrating their supposed victory over him. He didn’t want to spoil the ending just yet, so he pretended to be asleep while he thought over his next move.

The gang was none the wiser to his act. Assuming the man to already be dead or at least
severely
unconscious, they were already convinced of their success. They took the time to assess their inventory, examine the “bad bullets” they were using, reload their guns, and of course drink more alcohol.

Aster plotted. He could easily break free from the ropes that were binding his hands together behind his back. That part would be easy enough, but then the gang would know he was alive and well. Another shot to the head and he was certain he’d be out like a light again.
He couldn’t screw this up, or they really just might finish him off.

His plan was simple. He’d start by freeing his hands, then immediately
tear/burn the rope around his neck to free himself. Once grounded, he’d use a combination of speed and strength to put his enemies to rest. It all depended on how fast he could go, and he was very confident when it came to his speed. One thing was certain: Aster did
not
want to get buried by these guys.

BANG!
A bullet whizzed by Aster’s ear.

Crap
, he thought,
they’re starting
.

A few more shots were fired before Aster could act. One hit his leg, another hit him square in the chest. No shots hit his head yet though, and for that he was grateful.
If it wasn’t for their piss-poor aim I might be dead already,
Aster thought, fighting the urge to smirk.
Oh well, I better get this show on the road before my luck runs out.

He was really looking forward to the looks of fear the men would display when he tore
off the ropes wrapping his wrists with little effort. He would delight in seeing the men all scramble to draw their weapons, straining their weak human eyes to keep up with his super fast devil speed. He looked forward to the challenge of avoiding every single bullet they fired at him from now on.

But when he opened his eyes and snapped free from the ropes biding his wrists
, another gunshot rang out across the land. The bullet severed the rope only a foot above Aster’s head. The surprised devil fell to the ground while the gang of outlaws scrambled into action, their attention divided between Aster and the mystery gunmen.

With a less than perfect landing, Aster dashed forward and slapped the gun out of the hand of the nearest man pointing
it at him. With his weakest left hook, Aster decked the man in his gut. He dropped instantly. Only one other guy was paying attention to Aster and he was about to warn the others.

In just two movements, Aster reached into his jacket sleeve
, grabbed something, and then threw it. The projectile arced low, then rose suddenly and struck the outlaw’s face. His hat went flying and he dropped his gun to grab at the bloody gash across his face. Stuck to the rim of the man’s hat was a playing card that Aster had snuck out of the bar with him.

The other men were locked in combat with an invisible enemy. From somewhere far off across the land, a gunman was hiding and firing upon the gang.
The unknown assassin took shots at their hands to disarm the outlaws, and when they tried to flee their legs became the next targets. The remaining outlaws found that dodging bullets coming from an unknown location and trying to stop a man that won’t die is an impossible task.

With all members suffering from either a fresh bullet wound or a severe physical attack, Aster waited for his unknown assistant to make his presence known. While he waited, he took to questioning one of the men who was hanging on the verge of consciousness.

“Where is Ulric?” Aster asked, shaking the man violently. The outlaw coughed a little, mumbled something about kissing a specific body part, then passed out completely.

Aster
dusted his tattered clothes off and waited patiently for the assassin to ride up to him. It was the same piano player from the bar in Granger that he’d found himself sided with. Though Aster didn’t actually need the man’s help, he remained courteous and appreciative to not blow his cover.

“I’m friendly,” the assassin said once he was within earshot of Aster. He rode up on his horse, a huge brown stallion, with his arms raised partially in the air to show he meant no harm.

“You’re that music man,” Aster said. “What are you doing here?” For someone who’d just been shot multiple times, dragged behind a speeding horse and then hung from a tree, Aster looked quite healthy and spoke as such.

“I came to help you out,” the man said. “But it looks like you didn’t really need my help. You have quite an ability there.”

“I’ve been polishing my combat skills for a very long time,” said Aster. “Weaklings like them don’t even put up a decent fight.”

“I was referring to your ability to
not die
,” the man said. “How many times were you shot? That’s some luck you have to only get hit by defective bullets.”

Aster shrugged. “I
am
lucky, I suppose.”

“My name is Cactus Jackson,”
he said. “But you can call me CJ. I come from Britain, hence the accent,” CJ said. Aster had wondered about his accent.

“So what’s your plan now
if you don’t mind me asking?” CJ asked.

“I’m going to wait around here for one of these thugs to wake up,” said Aster. “Then I’ll
make him tell me where Ulric is.”

Taking one look at the disgraced pile of unconscious thugs, CJ knew that could take all day. Instead, the man came up with a better idea.

“How about I just tell you
where Ulric went?”

“You know
where he is?” Aster’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“I do,” said CJ. “I heard Ulric himself say where he was going. But before I tell you that,
we have some other business to settle.”

“Oh?” said Aster. “What business is that?”

“I want to know what you plan on doing with the rest of his gang.”

“I don’t care about his gang. I’m only after Ulric.”

“Then you don’t mind if I collect their bounties?”

“Go right ahead.”

CJ smiled, then hopped down from his horse. “Alright, I’ll only be a few minutes,” he said. Aster watched the British man pull a long length of rope out of his supply bag. The man went about severing the rope into enough pieces to begin tying up the injured men’s arms and legs. When his lengths of rope were ready, he pulled a few pieces of paper out of his bag next.

The papers were more wanted posters, and CJ combed through his stack to see if any of these men had bounties. He found that three of them did. In total, he stood to make a nice chunk of money off the men.

“It’ll be a hundred dollars,” he said. “You sure you don’t want to split it? You did most of the work, after all.”

“I don’t need money,” Aster said. “You can keep it all.”

“You’re very generous, friend!” CJ said with a smile. He removed all the gang’s guns and most of their clothing as he tied them up. “Need a new gun? How about a new outfit, which you definitely
do
need.”

Aster took the man up on his offer
. After stripping away most of the gang’s outfits, Aster changed into a combination of clothing that wasn’t as dirty, tattered, or stinking. As he changed shirts, CJ saw a plethora of bruises and scars engraved on his body. Some were even fresh and bleeding a little.

“
So what’s your business with Ulric, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“He stole something from me,” said Aster. “I’m here to take it back.”

“That’s good,” CJ said as he finished tying up the last outlaw. “So you don’t care about his bounty then? Can I have it?”

“I’m afraid not,” said Aster. “I’ll be taking Ulric back home with me.
I won’t budge on that detail either.”

CJ lifted the first of the three men, struggling under the weight of the fat man. Aster stepped forward and grabbed the guy with one hand, lifting him easily and setting him down on top of the horse. He picked up the last two guys at the same time, one in each hand, and tossed them atop the horse as well. CJ stood by shocked
and speechless at the herculean display of strength.

“So where’s Ulric?” Aster asked
, that bored look of agitation coming back to his face. “I want to get going as quickly as possible.”

“Hold your horses,” CJ said. He knew he had to figure out a way to convince Aster to stay with him, and he was an honest man. “I think we should consider partnering up.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Aster. “Ulric is seriously dangerous. I can’t guarantee you won’t die.” He tried to stay as vague as possible, since he couldn’t exactly tell him they were both devils from Hell.

“Who do you think I am? Some mere
civilian
?” CJ asked, offended. “I’m an assassin for hire! I live for killing! I could take on Ulric and all his men myself, except that I see the value in partnering up with you. You’re hard to kill! If you and me work together we’ll take down Ulric in no time! Not to mention you still need me to tell you where Ulric is. The only way I’m telling you is if you let me come along.”

“God you’re persistent,”
Aster said with a sigh. “Fine. As long as I get Ulric, you can do whatever you want.”

“Okay, okay. I’m still going to make a killing off the rest of his men anyway.
So it’s a deal then? We’re partners?”

CJ stuck out his hand.

“Partners,” Aster said, gripping the friendly assassin’s hand tightly.

The two started walking back to town, CJ’s horse trotting slowly next to them. They left behind the three thugs that weren’t worth anything. Stripped of their guns and clothing and all tied up, those men weren’t going anywhere. As the duo marched, CJ found that Aster was quite the mysterious man.

“So where are you from, Aster?” CJ asked.

“
Far away. Much further than Britain,” said Aster.

“You won’t tell me where it is though?”

“You don’t need to know.”

“Fair enough,” said CJ
, moderately deterred. “Tell me a little bit about Ulric then, so I know what I’m going up against.”

“Ulric served under me in the…army,” said Aster. “I never trusted h
im. But we needed more Captains, we were going through a bit of a recruitment drought. Ulric was certainly tough enough to be a Captain. But he was also a greedy, sly little bastard. He never wanted to be a Captain. All he wanted was to steal a gate key from me.”

“The key to what
gate?”

“It doesn’t matter what the key opens,” said Aster. “What matters is that he’s
here
, and planning on messing things up here.”

“But he’s just one man,” CJ said. “Even if he gathers an army, so what? As long as I’ve got my gun, he’s no match for me.
Gun fighting is my specialty, you see.”

“You’re quite confident in your tool, huh?” said Aster, eyeing the assassin’s gun.

“I’ve spent most my life working with this
tool
,” CJ said, drawing his gun and holding it close to his heart. “Spend enough time working with a tool and eventually you’ll master it. I can shoot anything I can see with 100% accuracy.”

Aster started to laugh.

“What is so funny?” CJ asked.

“I get why you’re so overconfident now,” said Aster. “You put all your faith in that gun. But I don’t think you’ve ever considered what you would do if your gun
didn’t work
on an enemy.”

The conversation fell flat as they heard something flop onto the dirt trail they walked on. Looking back, the duo watched one of the outlaws who’d regained consciousness fleeing for his life. It was a sad sight: a chubby man in his underwear, his hands tied behind his back and his legs tied together at his feet. He had to hop like a fool just to get away.

CJ drew his gun and fired once into the air. The man kept hopping. CJ lowered the gun, pointing it towards the outlaw.