No Land for Heroes [Excerpt]

1 - Playing with Fire

The night's steady drizzle didn't much bother the stolen horse or its rider. It had been hot for the last two weeks and hadn't rained in three, leaving the prairie in near-drought conditions. The rolling ocean of tall grasses around them had gone brittle, turning the Prairie's usual whisper into a dry rattle. The rain would be good, the elf thought. Both for reviving the land and for washing away any traces of the crime she was about to commit.

Mildred Berry pulled her wide brimmed-hat low to cover her white hair. It would be a dead giveaway if she was spotted: there weren't any other albinistic elves running around this part of the Prairie. Her long ears twitched against the hat's brim as she tried not to think about the consequences if she was caught. Previously, she'd mixed coal dust with fat to colour her hair, but it had melted from the heat of her scalp, oozing black rivulets down her face and neck. Effective at terrorizing guards, but messier than the makeshift dye was worth.

Adjusting her poncho to keep out the rain, Millie gave the horse a solid pat on the neck. Max, a mustang gelding, was a frequent and willing accomplice to her crimes. He was always happy to stretch his legs, took payment in carrots, and would never snitch to the law. Hell, at this time of night the local lawman, Max's owner, would be too drunk to notice the horse was gone.

Plainsfield's lanterns glowed on the horizon. It was a weed of a town, springing out of the dirt with the arrival of the railroad. Half its buildings were built from wood that had yet to turn silver, and the other half were whitewashed to look presentable. It was a town hoping to become a city, and Millie hated it.

Plainfield was little more than a stopover for travellers. Most headed further west to Stonecreek's mines or south to the warmer prairies. To the north were thick forests where the fur trade was king. Very few travellers from Plainsfield went east. East led to actual cities, where people called themselves 'civilized' and 'respectable' and looked down on people like Millie. Cities also stank.

The new railroad brought more settlers to the Frontier, making it a little less wild, a little less free with each homestead established.

"Would you be upset if I burnt down your town?" Millie asked the horse.

Max snorted and flicked an ear.

"I was only asking," she said, blowing a drop of rain from the brim of her hat with a sharp puff of air. The town would be too wet for a few days to bother. Besides, Millie was trying to avoid killing anyone both on the job tonight and in general. Missing cargo was easily forgiven by Plainsfield's drunkard Sheriff, but dead bodies would draw the attention of competent lawmen.

A shrill whistle cut through the steady drizzle. The train was finally leaving, and soon it would chug into sight.

"Ready, Max?" she asked the horse, nudging him to trot in a little circle to warm up his legs. She'd kept both of them warm and limber, ready for work. Max snorted and pawed at the ground. He was ready to give this new train a run for its money.

Fresh off the West-Colfield train yard, the Blue Bullet was said to be the fastest locomotive in the west. The rumours were that it could outrun a dragon itself, but Millie disagreed. She'd watched the famous train come and go over the last two weeks. While it was faster than the old clunker that used to run this route, the mustang could keep pace with it.

The train whistled a second time and Millie could see the white dot of its headlamp pull away from the orange glow of Plainsfield. Soon the blue locomotive chugged past, picking up speed. She pulled her bandana up over her nose and pulled on a set of buckskin gloves she'd kept dry inside her vest.

"Let's go!" The mustang took off with the lightest nudge. Plainfield's sheriff never galloped the mustang, but Millie knew he was one of the fastest horses in town. They pulled alongside the train, Max's thundering hooves masked by the clanking of train car wheels and the steady chug of the locomotive. Millie grinned under her bandana. One wrong move and she could be thrown under the train's steel wheels. She'd be cut in half in an instant. Millie had seen it happen.