They stood there and grimaced. Dust blew in their faces from the broken windows. The heat going through them like a bubbling geyser. Clenched fists and frown lines on their foreheads didn't make the situation any better. Where was that new Marshall anyways? First week on the job and already missed a big breakthrough.
Tomoha was a big town. With one thousand inhabitants, it was growing fast. Once the land was taken by the Indians, it was a popular place to start a life. With a mile from the town, lived the villages, a mile from that was the forest that supplied our wood, food, and living.
The town was a good place. It just had a few little problems.
They looked up at the sound of clicking boots, and a horse approaching. The owner gripped his shiny shotgun while his apprentice went to greet the Marshall.
He was handsome, and young. At twenty-one's age, he was the youngest Marshall in the history of the States. Marshall Dylan Jones, with his curly black hair and slight facial hair, he smiled as he got off his golden stallion.
"You better smack that smile of your face Marshall, this is serious," the owner, Mr. Edmund, sneered.
You weren't supposed to talk to a Marshall like that.
"Everything seems fine. What happened? I suppose you must know?" He still smiled and placed his hat on the only stable furniture in the whole building.
"Five dead, my workers! But, that not even the worst part. Ten thousand dollars stolen! Out of the bank! Mr. Maroni will not be happy!" Mr. Edmund didn't seem happy that this could make him lose his job too.
"Who the hell can steal ten thousand dollars from the most well-known, most protected man in the state of Minnesota?" Marshall Dylan grinned.
"Well, it's obvious ain't it?" The apprentice stood there, the last worker of the bank, Dylan supposed.
"What Carter, you got some evidence we don't know?" Mr. Edmund asked. Carted looked at the Marshall. He rose a brow at Carter, interested.
"I believe... it was Ms. Dawes," Carted said, almost worried.
"Oh come on! Ms. Dawes is an outlaw! She ain't smart enough to steal from Mr. Maroni!"
"Well, she was smart enough to kill your brother!" Carter yelled. Mr. Edmund grew purple. He grabbed Carter by his collar and swung a fist in his face.
"My brother was even stupid to run away with her. She only took his money and ran, left him to die. What makes you so sure that she is the one that took the money?! Why would she want it!?"
"Pardon me boys, but, might I ask who Ms. Dawes is?" The Marshall interrupted the small excursion.
"Research up Marshall, let's say the most wanted criminal in Tomoha."
"Ms. Dawes is just a woman," the Marshall chuckled, "are you telling me you're afraid of a silly girl?"
Mr. Edmund stared at him.
"Until I get my money back, and the place is back up and runnin', she's in your hands. I'm not gettin' involved with her, not again."
He left the room, leaving Carter and the Marshall alone.
Carter flicked something at him, Dylan caught it with a grip. He looked down at the shiny gold object, covered with a smudge of red. A bullet, not one he had ever seen before. It was smaller than the average bullet, and it had engraved letters in it.
"I. D.?" The Marshall asked.
"Irene Dawes. Careful, she's the one that killed the last Marshall, with reason too. She ain't no girl either. Catch her if you can, if you can't... this city will fall to ruin, and everyone along with it."
10 Hours Ago
She jumbled around in the small box. It was uncomfortable for her to be in such a tiny space, she hated tiny spaces. She needed the money though, not for the reason people thought. The carriage ran over a bump and she hit the top of the box. She knew the bank was huge. Ever since the new Marshall came, every house, business, or population tripled. The bank wouldn't be an easy breakthrough. These buildings were now made with brick, it's tougher than wood.
"We're in," a voice whispered. She kicked the top off of the box and jumped out. She landed in the shotgun seat of the carriage next to her partner. He was young, Irene guessed if a nine year old could drive, he could be her partner. Not many people would shoot at a nine year-old would they?
"You're hair is a mess," he grinned. He was right. Her straight black hair was a mess. She'd usually curl it herself, but only had time to straighten, her being so desperate for this act.
"I know, how much longer till we actually stop the carriage into the place?" She noticed they were just taking a slow walk with the horses around the big building.
"Hang on, I mapped it out. Imma drop you off at the small house in the back. That's where Mr. Edmund lives, so he's close to the bank. All you need to do is climb up to the top window, steal the money, and find your way back to me," he smiled.
It was easier said than done. Ms. Dawes thought this was easier done than said though.
"Jack," there was a short pause, Ms. Dawes was... listening, "Is there supposed to be a party tonight?"
"I suppose not, whaddoya mean?"
"God Dammit Jack," she muttered and jumped out of carriage, "Get out of here, I'll find someway to get back, I'll jump a horse or something."
"Ms. Dawes, I can't leave you here," he said.
"It's too dangerous. We didn't know there was a party tonight. Go back home, and I'll see you soon."
"But Miss Dawes-" too late. She smacked the horse in the butt and it ran out of the way. She wouldn't want Jack in danger, nor herself. Okay, time to clear the mind. You don't think of the dangers, you think about the prize. She thought that a lot.
She looked around the corner of the brick building and saw the house. All the lights were on, there was some piano music, people drinking, laughing, all having a good time. She wished she could do that once in awhile.
She looked up and saw the window she had to reach. She frowned and saw what looked impossible. She let out a small groan, signifying her disappointment in Jack's planning. She put her hat on in determination and grabbed the water pipe.
Every climb, movement of her arms and legs had to be both quick and quiet. Her ankle had still been hurt from her last meeting with the "old" Marshall. He had shot her in the foot, and it didn't feel so good. So now she built more of her arm strength to keep her legs going.
Okay, objective window... too far... she needed to find a different window. She looked to her left, a small window was open, the light was on though, which meant someone had to be in there. Either she took a chance of falling, or a chance of meeting someone.
She reached for the small window and leaped off the small pipe. She gripped the wooden ends of the window and pulled herself up. Good, nobody in it for now. She pushed herself all the way and fell into the room doing a flip.
"Did ya hear that?" a voice said. Her eyes widened and she hid behind the door. In a small crack, she saw a banker, with only a lantern, walking around. He turned and walked into the room. He looked around a little and turned. She quickly pulled out her revolver and shot him in the head.
The sound was loud, she hoped the party was just louder. She quickly ran out of the light and into the dark hallway of the bank. Running fast she reached the room where the money was. You'd think it'd smell good, it didn't. She put her mini revolver into her side pouch and walked in.
File cabinets took up most of the space in the room. Money was in all of these. This listed every family in the town, or at least the ones that put their faith in Maroni. She checked the names starting at A... she scrolled up and down the names until she found M. Maroni, M for murderer, M for Michael.
She realized she needed a key, and as always came prepared for break-ins like this. She grabbed a pin out of her hat and twisted it around the lock. The pressure opened it. With a smile, she grabbed a sack out of her shirt and started to stuff the green paper into the bag.
A rich man wouldn't find a loss of ten thousand dollars too big, but it meant that someone at this bank, a.ka. the boss, would get their neck hanged in a second. After shoving all of the benjamins in the bag. She closed the door leading to the office and locked it. She pulled a slightly poofy pink dress out of the same sack and unzipped it.
She stripped quickly and hopped into the dress. She left her boots on, because she'd known she would need it later. Of course she knew there was a party to happen, it was a good thing. All she had to do was get in the party, shake up a little chaos and bing! Money was hers.
She looked out of the door as she creaked it open slightly, and noticed nobody was around. Shrugging, she strolled out of the room, with an innocent face and headed outside towards the party.
She felt a hand on her shoulder.
"Miss, are you lost? I can show you where the party is," he said. She didn't even look at him. she quickly elbowed him in the face and threw him off the top floor. She then ran down the flight of stairs, holding her dress up with her hands and walked out the door.
The mud would be great use in an escape. People show up to parties in heels and dress shoes... not boots. She casually walked towards the front door, but felt another hand on her shoulder. This one was tighter. She sighed and turned around.
"Look, I'm heading to the-" she was suddenly punched right in the face. Her nose cracked and snapped in a second. She fell to the floor in a flash.
"Ms. Dawes, what a surprise," the man said. He was wearing a nice dress suit and pants. You'd think he'd be more of a gentleman than a maniac.
"What?" she faked a British accent, "Who do you think you are!?"
"Oh come come, give me the money," he grinned.
"You thief!" she yelled.
"Me a thief?"
"I am Elizabeth the fourth! Don't you dare touch a Royal English Embassy!"
"Oh," his face looked quite of shock, "I'm terribly sorry mi'lady, I just recently saw a Ms. Dawes around, and she looked a lot like you. Terribly sorry."
"Oh, how do I explain my poor dear blood stained dress to poor dear Mr. Edmund?! I look like a disaster!"
He walked over with a handkerchief and tried to wipe it off.
"There that looks a-" She grabbed his neck and snapped it. It sounded less painful than it probably was. His body fell limp to the ground. A woman screamed. She turned and saw a horrific woman in a really bad outfit that she should never had worn.
The only problem was that she didn't say anything, just kept screaming. Irene thought quickly and jumped on a horse tied up to her left. She kicked it on the thigh and it neighed, running away. With one hand, she tied the sack on the side of the saddle. Let's hope this was good timing.
People would be after her in a second. Men go to tend to screaming women. She slowed the horse down and hid behind a gigantic bush, just near the gates. She needed the gate opened to get out.
Pounding hoofbeats were nearby, so she grinned. The past her like lightning, the men screaming to find the "murderer". They don't know that she just stole thousands of dollars.
She sped up behind them. She wished she had a better color than the pink. It made her shine more in the dark. She laughed in her head, that while the men in front of her were chasing nothing but shadows, the shadow they were looking for was right behind them. Her left hand gripped the reigns as she grabbed with her right hand her gun.
It was hard to shoot with one hand, while riding a horse that wasn't trained properly. She shot one round, and it hit one in the head. The horses jumped in fear, and the man yelled to get round the horses. She motioned her horse to go faster, and grabbed a unique tool out of the saddle. A hammer works better than a gun any day. She soon reached eye to eye with the dawdler of the group. His eyes widened as she swung the hammer in his face. She sighed as it got stuck in his skull. Oh well.
The chase was on.
Unfortunately the hammer wasn't a silent weapon as well. The remaining two chased after her. She knew these parts of the plains like the back of her hand. All she needed to do was to get them lost in her forest. If they even dare enter.