Rexes & Robbers Page 2

  Ro pulled her pistol from her hip and held it up carelessly in her hand. The clerk gasped as she tipped her hat back and smiled.

  “Nobody move, and you won’t be shot.”

  A woman in the corner fainted, and Ro rolled her eyes. She barely said a single sentence and the woman fainted in fear like a wilted flower. Her beau beside her didn’t even pay her any mind, letting Ro know that it’s a common thing she does. All that fainting couldn’t be good for her mind.

  The clerk eyed the lever that would let the conductor know what was going on, a relatively new invention after so many steam trains were robbed by bandits. Ro tsked. “I wouldn’t,” she warned. “You’re only doing your job, and I understand that. I don’t want to shoot you, sir. So if you’d kindly back away and take a seat.”

  The clerk put his hands in the air and did what he was told, his eyes telling Ro he knew exactly who she was. Seven years as an outlaw and never being caught had given Ro a reputation.

  “Rowena ‘The Ghost’ Wickham,” someone whispered, and she grimaced. She always hated the moniker she’d been given, but it was far better than some the others had received. Clem was only known as ‘The Lizard’, and she despised the name. Anyone who whispered it was eaten.

  “In case you haven’t realized,” Ro began, walking down the aisle, her spurs clinking as she moved. She only wore the things for appearance, never using them on Clem when she rode on her back. That would be disrespectful. “This is a stickup.”

  “Empty your pockets!” Clem shouted, shoving the large man back, who was already trying to stumble away in fright. Suddenly, he seemed to realize his mistake in calling her such insulting names.

  No one moved; not a single person reached into their coats to remove their coin purses or gold pocket watches. That just wouldn’t do. From another train car, the sound of a gun went off and Ro scowled. That better have been a threat and not someone dying. She doesn’t allow the killing of innocent people, just the robbery of them.

  Ro pulled the hammer back on her gun and suddenly, the passengers began emptying their pockets like Clem asked, pulling watches and such from their coats. Clem held out a bag for them to drop the goods inside, this haul, no doubt, would be able to tide them over for weeks.

  A little girl, no older than twelve years old, tried to make herself smaller when Ro walked by. Her mother shook in fright as she pulled her jewelry from her neck, and Ro noticed the genuine fear in her eyes. Her husband was well dressed, round, and disgusting, but the mother was young and sweet looking. Her daughter inherited her looks. The woman hesitated on a simple gold necklace, tears springing into her eyes, and Ro squatted down to their level. The woman’s eyes widened as the outlaw crouched down and clamped her hand around hers.

  “Leave it,” Ro told her, a small smile on her face.

  “Don’t you touch her!” the husband snarled, but a general pointing of her pistol in his direction shut him up.

  “Are you sure, Rowena?” the woman whispered, her hand shaking so badly within Ro’s that it set her teeth on edge.

  “You married that man for some god-awful reason.” She glanced at the man in question and sneered, “Whether it’s because your family forced you, or the bank, or because you really had no other option, he doesn’t deserve you.” The man guffawed but didn’t speak. “Keep your chain. I can tell it means a lot to you. What’s your name?”

  “Delilah,” the woman whispered, careful not to draw too much attention to them. She was smart, too, then.

  “Delilah,” Ro smiled around the name. “If you ever want to leave this pig behind, and take back your control, your life, my crew is always open.” Ro’s eyes flicked to the little girl, who had open wonder in her eyes then instead of fear. “Your daughter would be taken care of in our ranks, and you could make everyone who has wronged you pay.”

  Ro didn’t wait for an answer. Slowly, she stood, but not before flicking a coin to the little girl, one that would easily purchase her all the candy she could want. Her mother ran her lip between her teeth, thinking about Ro’s words. Her husband got some sense of false bravery and stood from his seat. Ro raised her brow, staring at him in amusement as she studied him.

  “How dare you invite my wife to your band of hooligans! She’s a proper lady, not some outlaw harlot.” His face turned red as he spoke, as if he was about to pop from his anger.

  Ro grinned and stepped forward. Fear flashed in his eyes, as if he realized his mistake, but like a typical man, he couldn’t back down now. But Ro didn’t threaten him. She didn’t need to. She took her hat from her head and held it over her heart.

  “Mister—” She began.

  “Fitzgerald,” he answered automatically.

  “Mr. Fitzgerald.” Ro took a step forward, getting right into his face. “If you treated your wife right, and hadn’t somehow forced her hand in marriage, then she wouldn’t be considering the offer right now.”

  He slowly sunk back into his seat, his eyes glancing toward his wife and child, nervous and angry. He didn’t fear losing his family. No, it was easy to see he feared what it would do to his reputation more than anything.

  Ro placed her hat back on her head and turned toward Clem, who had a heavy sack slung over her shoulder. Seemed the haul would be grand this time. Ro whistled once and waited until the sound was echoed in another train car before she grinned and moved toward the back of the steam train. Her and Clem always took the last link of the train, to make sure they could holler up through the line. The moment they stepped off the train, someone would sound the alarm, and they’d have moments to escape before the guards in the engine would attempt to come after them. They were useless really. They only started hiring men to “protect” the trains in the past few years, but it wasn’t like they knew when a robbery was happening or that they could catch them when the bandits took off. Just another frivolous expense for the rich.

  “We ready?” Clem asked, standing at the door. Clem always wore the same standard outfit, and it both put men at odds and yet got her more women than most men in general. She wore the same boots as Ro did, the soles worn and comfortable. Her trousers had brown and cream stripes, and she wore a corset beneath her long duster.

  Unlike Clem, Ro wore plain brown slacks and chaps, a waistcoat and shirt, and her own long duster. The only splotch of color came from her hat, a bright crimson red, and bandana. The color was unusual even for the most open towns.

  “Let’s get out of here.” The moment Ro and Clem stepped from the train car, the alarm sounded, and the train whistled so loudly it vibrated the floor beneath their feet. Clem tossed the heavy sack to Ro and dove from the train. The fall should have broken a collarbone, or at the very least sent her tumbling away, but Clem wasn’t human.

  In midair, Clem’s body snapped and expanded, morphing before Ro’s eyes. The first time Ro had seen the shift, she’d feared her friend was dying, but it happened like that every time. Clem was a Deinonychus and she was the fastest on the crew. She hit the ground with a screech, turned, and sprinted until she ran alongside the train, just long enough for Ro to leap onto her back, the moneybag clenched in her hands as she held on for dear life. She’d made the mistake of not holding tightly once, and suffered a broken rib for the mistake. Now, she knew to keep close and to hold tight.

  Along the train in front of them, her crew all leapt from the cars and onto their scaly counterparts, the sight both awe-inspiring and intimidating. There was a reason Ro’s crew hadn’t been caught and rarely suffered losses. There weren’t many bands of outlaws that were so well joined with the dinosaurs. Ro’s crew had an open-door policy—if they wanted to take back their freedom and control, then they could come. More than fifty percent of the crew were females, and that spoke volumes toward the treatment of women in the West. Men still never seemed to understand.

  Beside them, two figures stepped from the train car. Ro had her hand on her hip before she even realized it, just in case they were a threat, but she smiled when she saw who
it was.

  Whistling long and loud, a massive Triceratops dropped back from in front of her, the giant spikes on his head barely missing them as he cut the distance close. Theo was always cutting things close, but that’s why he was such a great asset to the team. He would do things others wouldn’t dare.

  Theo already knew the drill, that if he was called it would be for transport only. He was still healing from a bullet to his shoulder, the wound mostly recovered, but Ro didn’t take chances with her crew.

  The woman and her daughter stepped right up to the edge as Theo came up alongside them. Neither flinched away. Neither showed any sense of hesitation. Mrs. Fitzgerald slung her daughter onto Theo’s back first, making sure she held fast to his horns, before she leapt onto him herself, her arms automatically steadying her daughter.

  “Welcome to the Free Outlaws, Mrs. Fitzgerald,” Ro called, a wide smile on her face. The little girl grinned back, so enamored with the large dinosaur beneath her.

  “My name is Delilah Monroe,” she shouted back. “Fitzgerald was my husband’s name.”

  “Welcome to the crew, Ms. Monroe,” Ro corrected, winking at her. “Theo will keep y’all safe. Don’t leave his side until I tell you to.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  By the time the authorities were called, and the large steam-powered train stopped in the next town, the Free Outlaws were already long gone, their bounty lining their pockets, and the crew two more strong.

  Two

  By the time they reached their camp, the moon was high in the sky, the pale light streaming down to give the dinosaurs and their partners a sinister feel. Night was the most dangerous time to be out in the brutal west, the desert coming alive in a way it never did in the daytime. Many reptiles were nocturnal to begin with, so to expect them not to be out and about would be stupid.

  There were different types of dinosaurs, of course, and many of them preferred to remain in human form most of the time. There were others that preferred their dinosaur form more and they were usually referred to as wild. A wild dinosaur was dangerous because their instincts were those of a carnivore, of a predator, rather than having a sense of human morality. The desert was full of the wild creatures, but Clem and some of the larger dinosaur crew kept the majority away.

  Wild Rexes and Carnosaurs were the ones The Free Outlaws feared most, but luckily they were few and far between.

  Someone sounded the alarm as Ro and her crew finally spotted the fires, their small crew tired but their energy still high after a successful haul. Sometimes, they didn’t return with much, their information wrong or off, but today wasn’t one of those days. Their haul would keep them comfortable for a while longer, but winter would be coming soon, and many of the reptiles were slow during the cold nights. They would need more blankets and coats for the newer members, and those that had worn theirs out before. Harsh winters could still hit in the desert, and they could be just as deadly as the brutality of the summers.

  The Free Outlaws were an unusual crew. Most bandits believed in the “every man for himself” mantra, but not them. Ro believed that compassion made a crew closer, made things clearer. If someone couldn’t help themselves because they were sick or injured, they weren’t left to fend for themselves. The only people who weren’t helped in the crew were those who expected everything without adding to the crew themselves. They’d had that trouble before of a member who tried to take advantage of their beliefs, who refused to do any work to help others, but expected all the help in return. Those members weren’t punished, but they weren’t allowed to stay. Ro was glad it didn’t happen very often, that most of her crew chose to pay their kindness forward.

  Then, there were the ones who realized that this life wasn’t for them, and that was okay too. Ro suspected Ms. Monroe and her daughter to be of that variety, but she’d been proven wrong before. There was a steel in the mother’s eyes that spoke of strength and determination. How she ended up in a one-sided marriage was probably a sad story for another day. Too many women were pressured into such commitments without thought, the notion of an unmarried woman too horrifying to many. Now, as a woman nearing thirty years old, Ro knew that was a lie. Freedom should come first, the freedom of choice, or desires, and then any other things second. A child could change that, but a man never should, not unless he made sure he wasn’t caging the woman, so that they both could soar. Ro’s father had been like that with her mother, although she didn’t remember it. No, her memories were from the stories her father had told her by candlelight when a little girl asked about the mother she’d never know. Her mother had been a saint, at least according to her father. Ro was only trying to be just as good as her mother had been. She was trying to take care of her family.

  “Theo is taking Ms. Monroe and her daughter to get a tent from One-eye. The rest of the crew is busy unloading and taking stock of the haul. Should I address the camp?” Clem asked, shaking out her hair after her shift, brushing the dust from her clothes. She’d have to wash the clothing tonight in order to get the worst of it off. It was an unfortunate side effect of running through the desert in her dinosaur form all day. She once explained to Ro how uncomfortable the hot sand could be between her claws, how the feeling of dust coating her almost felt like she was being buried. Even though Clem came from somewhere a little greener, Ro understood her discomfort. She was just used to it. Sand and dust were a sad part of the life in the West. It got in your undergarments, your shoes, and your eyes. The only thing that sometimes helped were the goggles Ro wore on her hair until she had need of them. She’d offered to make a special pair for Clem in her dinosaur form, but she’d refused. Apparently, the things made her go cross-eyed, which was a hindrance more than a help. Luckily, they had set up camp near a stream that wasn’t dried up at this time of year. They’d been lucky to have a lot of rain this season. Clem would get her bath, and so would the rest of the crew. Nothing ended a hot day of robbing better than cool water washing the grit from your skin.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Ro volunteered, nodding her head to dismiss Clem. No doubt, Clem was already preparing to run to the stream, the urge to get clean stronger than the urge to eat. Later, she would sneak off into the desert to find something robust to chow down on.

  Clem smiled gently and slipped away, exactly in the direction Ro expected her to go in. They’d been partners long enough now to know each other well. Clem knew Ro would choose to address the crew herself. It was their way. They almost read each other’s minds sometimes—those times could be downright frightening.

  Stripping off her heavy coat, Ro draped it over her arm and stiffly walked toward her small tent. As the leader of the Free Outlaws, she didn’t expect some grand setup to welcome her back. She was no better than her crew, and so she slept in the same tent they all did. The bigger the family, the bigger the tent. Ro was just one person. She didn’t need anything else.

  The crew would be waiting for her update, waiting to see if there was anything to be worried about, if they needed to pack up right away and go on the run. While the Free Outlaws were some of the most wanted in the West, Ro never actually risked her crew’s lives if she could help it. If the law came looking, she’d make sure her crew was safe. There were far too many innocent people that called her crew home, far too many that just wanted an escape from the strict society. So many of her people were misfits, the ones society deemed freaks and harlots, beasts, and monsters. A woman loving a woman, or a man loving a man didn’t bother Ro in the slightest. Love was love, even if it was shared with the same sex, or multiple people. Ro just wanted people to be happy, and it was no one else’s damn business what made them happy in the first place. Unfortunately, normal society didn’t agree.

  The sounds of the night crept up on Ro heavily, the loneliness she often felt weighing on her shoulders. She missed her father greatly, her best friend in everything. He would not have been happy with the way her life had turned out, but he would have been proud of what she was doing, of the home s
he was giving all these people. So what if they had to resort to robbery to live? They were happy, and they harmed no one they didn’t have to. They specifically targeted those of higher society, the rich who didn’t care for those with less money, the banks who stole from innocent people.

  “Everyone’s waitin’.”

  Ro turned toward the voice, smiling gently at the older man behind her. Jiminy was a wispy old thing, coming up into his sixties with a grace Ro could only hope for at the age, if she lived that long. He’d been with her since the beginning, since she’d first run into the worst kind of trouble as an outlaw. Jiminy knew what she’d been through, had been through it with her, and when she’d escaped, he’d went with her. Ro had adopted the older man quickly and deemed him the father of the Free Outlaws. His job was to do nothing more than offer guidance to those younger, and to lend an ear when needed. It was his turn to be taken care of.

  “I’ll be there in a moment,” Ro replied, pulling her red hat from her head and shaking the dust off. “I just need to wash the dirt from my face.”

  “You had that look again, girl.”

  It didn’t matter how young or old someone was, Jiminy always referred to them as “boy” or “girl.” And he was far too perceptive for his age.

  “I don’t know what you mean.” Ro purposely didn’t look him in the eye, instead cupping her hands in the bucket of water by her tent and splashing it across her face.

  “You try so hard to save everyone, you forget to save yourself.” Jiminy’s heavily accented drawl washed over Ro, pulling a frown onto her lips. Damn perceptive old man, she thought.

  “I’m fine, Jiminy.”

  “Keep tellin’ yourself that and you’re gonna end up like me.”