Robery and Revenge

Story by Equusaz on SoFurry

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#1 of Western Tail 1

Hey ya'all! So I read a "western" story by a friend the other day, and I found it really good, but wondered if I could do one. I know a lot about the American South West and history, so, here's my attempt. This is part one of a two part story. Don't worry there WILL be adult parts in the second story. This is just the setup / lead to that. The story takes place in Charleston, Arizona Territory, 1879. There will be no reference to the Clantons, the Earps, or Doc Holliday. That was another town and different reality.


Jessie coughed a little as the cattle dog counted out the rows of bills in the till in front of him. It was getting really hot out in the Arizona Territory sun. Dust settled over everything. Every time the door opened another blast from the desert furnace outside stole some of the precious cool air from the building. The bank had seen very few customers over the last several hours, and Jessie was bored. The sounds of people on the main street outside filtered through the thin glass in the windows. The oak facade in front of him was lined with lead. A new idea the bank owner had since the last time they had been robbed and the poor teller had been gunned down before the collie knew what hit him. He'd asked why they only had one person on duty, and the gruff bull had answered that the lead cost more than the wages, and was tougher. If he wanted another job he was welcome to go find one.

Three thousand, four hundred, eighty seven dollars, and sixty three cents. Jessie wrote the amount down on a scrap note book. It had been a slow day. The biggest deposit was from the Wells Fargo stage line account. He doubted he'd have any more customers, he would only keep the bank open another five minutes. The door opened. He peered between the bars of the teller window. It was Frank, the older weasel owner of the hardware store across the street. "Afternoon Frank." The cattle dog liked the surly old weasel. He had a very gruff and rough exterior, but had a heart of gold. When that family had come down with small pox, he was the only one to make it out to their ranch to deliver them food.

"Afternoon Jessie." The gruff fur grumble. The older fur removed his straw hat and hefted a bag of coins on the counter. Jessie began counting them letting his mind roam back to other times. He'd grown up back east during the war. He'd been sickly as a child, and when he became an adult, he became even sicker. Asthma was the prognosis. Torture for someone living in the humidity laden east coast. "Head out west, find a dry climate. Utah, or the New Mexico and Arizona Territories. He'd cried a little as his father patted him on the back. His twin, Jennie, cried openly as he gave her a hug. His mom only sniffled a little. The train ride had cost a hefty sum, and all of his belongings were in his luggage. One bag. It had taken several weeks to get out here to Charleston, Arizona Territory. The mines nearby were bustling with activity, and people had been streaming into town to find their fortunes. Jessie had no illusions of finding a fortune. He was a sickly dog, and knew he'd be lucky to just find work.

He'd stayed at the inn and had asked around. Almost immediately everyone turned him away due to his ill health. He'd began getting depressed. He'd had a small sum of money saved up, he could live on it for a while, but not forever, and certainly not more than a few months, even if he stretched his money as thin as he could. He could have moved from the town into a tent, but then Apache raids, and the dangers of the desert would be an issue.

Finally he'd struck paydirt. He felt guilty about it. A gang had robbed the bank, and Mr. Stillwell needed a replacement. Jessie was hired on the spot. He knew mathematics very well since he was going to become an engineer. He also had "a nice round hand." The bull had approved, and gave him a decent salary which allowed him to rent a small house on the edge of town near the river.

Over time his health had improved, but he still had problems with the dust. Too much of it, and he'd be down for a day. Every now and then he'd fall into a coughing fit and had to be careful. He'd tried one of those patent medicines and swore them off. They were great, for getting drunk. That was about all they were good for.

The last of the coins slid into the slots in the register bellow him"Ninety eight dollars even Frank. A good day." The weasel gave him a very rare smile. "Yes indeed, a small group came in to buy mining equipment. A box of dynamite, four pics, eight pans, three large satchels, and of course the new Colt revolvers. Can't be too careful you know." Jessie nodded. The raids were bad. The army had sent a contingent down here to help hold them off.

"Well, do you want cash, or do you want a deposit he amount into your account?" Jessie coughed a little. It was a dry afternoon and the dust got in everywhere. Soon the rains would come and he'd have problems for another reason.

"Deposit please." Jessie nodded, dipped the pen in ink, and wrote the receipt out, making notes in his ledger. The clock on the wall struck the hour. Closing time. Just as the clock finished it's long five chimes, he handed the receipt over. "You know, the missus says you can come out for dinner if you want." Frank nodded putting the receipt back into the money bag. The good day had certainly thawed the grumpy weasel's disposition. Jessie chuckled. "Thank you kindly, but I'm going to eat at the saloon and turn in early. I have a day off tomorrow and I intend on using it by resting."

Frank scowled. "Well it isn't right for a young man to be alone all the time." Jessie chuckled again. The old fur sounded like the one of the rare letters from his mother. "I know, well, good evening Frank, and say Hi to Clara for me." Huffing a little and grumbling the old weasel walked out. He quickly closed out the account totals in the ledger and put the book in the safe along with the register drawers. He grunted hefting the one with all the silver and some gold coins in it as he slid it into it's holder. He wiped a bit of sweat from his brow, and reached to heave the door closed. It swung shut with a metallic bang, and he spun the dial locking it.

He turned around and then reached for the key. The lead lined facade had a door built into the side, which could only be locked or unlocked from inside and swung inward. Now that the money was safe, he could lock the door, slide the bolt home, and exit the secure door in the back. He unlocked the facade door and walked to the font. He had no warning. A shadow filled the grimy window set in the door for a second, and three furs burst in, guns drawn.

Jessie stood there stunned for only a second. He put up his hands." D-d-d-d...don't short! I'm unarmed! He stammered.. He'd only been here a year, and had never seen cowboys before. The trio were an imposing bunch. In the middle was a tall lanky palomino. His white shirt was dust covered and his jeans hung tight against his hips. The ammo belt and holster were tight around his waist, the leather thong tight around a muscular thigh. Jessie found his mouth go dry at the steel hard look the stallion gave him.

"You do what we say city slicker, and you'll live." the pony intoned. The bull next to him chuckled. He was a huge brute. Where the pony was lanky, the bull bulged. He stood a head higher than the equine, and was twice as wide. The double barrel scatter gun was trained on Jessie's head. He wore no shirt and it was obvious why. Only a custom tailored one would fit. As it was the jeans he wore threatened to rip at any moment against the bovine's bulk.

"Puppy here has no bite it seems" he drawled. He had some type of southern accent. Jessie being a northerner could never figure out which accent was from what region of the south, but it wasn't from the west. The collie on the other side said nothing. His pistol was trained on the cattle dog, and the look that slender muzzled face indicated it was no dust off of his fur if he just pulled the trigger.

"Now, open the safe puppy, and no one gets hurt." The pony intoned. Jessie began to panic. If he handed over the money, he'd be fired. Mr. Stillwell had no sense of humor and had quipped once that he was glad the last teller was dead because it saved him the trouble of firing the worthless whelp.

Jessie backed up slowly to the facade door, and once inside shut it hard, the auto lock snapping into place. He cowered on the floor.

"SHIT!" The pony exclaimed. Gunshots rang out for a few seconds as they tried to fire through the facade. The dull thud of bullets rang out for about four shots before they stopped. Jessie could hear the trio muttering to themselves. His ears rang from the gunshots. He wondered if anyone had heard that. The walls of the bank were thick and brick lined. It kept the money in, and bandits out. Only the two doors gave easy access. One of the furs came up to the teller window and tried to reach in. "Dammit, these bars are too close together. Plan B John!" It sounded like the bull.

"Hey puppy! I know you can hear me. You have two choices. Open that lead lined door, let us in, open the safe and live." There was the sound of a match being lit and the faint hiss of a fuze sparking. "Or try to get out the back way before this bundle of dynamite goes off at the teller window. You might make it, but you probably wont. You have five seconds to decide. Ten after that and this bundle goes off."

Jessie's mind panicked. He didn't want to loose his job, but he didn't want to die either. "Ok!" He shouted. He reached out and shakily slid the key in and undid the bolt. The door swung in. The pony was standing there smiling. He reached up, licked his thick fingers, and pinched the end of the fuse.

"Smart dog. Open the safe." The pony commanded, his pistol trained on him.

Jessie nodded and coughed. His fist went to his mouth and he coughed hugely. He pulled his handkerchief out and coughed into it, almost doubled over. Some blood spattered the white cloth and he cringed. All this excitement was too much. He folded the kerchief and stuck it back in his vest pocket. He walked over and began to enter the combo to the safe.

"In here!" Shouted someone outside. The windows shattered as gunfire rang out. The Pony and the Bull were safe behind the facade, the collie wasn't so lucky. About ten shots rang out and the dog dropped to the floor lifeless. He'd never had a chance to even fire.

"Fuck, Cody is down." The bull rumbled. "Speed it up puppy, we need to get out of here." Something heavy landed on the floor in front of the facade smashing the last of the glass in the barred windows. There was a woosh of air as flames blossomed.

Jessie's eyes went wide. There was only one thing that would have caused a reaction like this. These guys were wanted for murder. He gulped. Turning he saw the Pony had a gun pointed straight at his head. He nodded once, and finished the combo. The safe opened. He stepped back. The flames licked at the oak facade, the air was growing thick with smoke as the dry wood floor also caught fire.

"Ah....I see it's time for plan C John." the bull rumbled. "Yes it is Allen." the horse sounded grim. The bull piled the register boxes into the huge satchels he had with him, along with the gold and silver drawers as well. The huge satchel of paper money was tossed to the equine. Jessie knew that the three thousand from today was only a drop in the bucket compared to the stash in the bank. It was near the end of the month, and they'd had several Wells Fargo deliveries. The sum was probably eighty or ninety thousand in gold, silver and cash The two finally had the two bags full. Jessie's eyes popped a little as the bull easily lifted the two bags over his shoulder. The bundle weighed several hundred pounds easy.

"You're coming with us pup" the Palomino drawled. "B-but..." The sound of the single action hammer cocking back changed his mind for him. Jessie nodded, his hands up, as he was herded to the back of the bank.

Smoke hung thick around them as he fumbled with his keys. He had three locks to undo, and they had to be undone in the right order.

He felt the cold steel of the gun press against the back of his neck ruffling his neck fur. He shivered and coughed in the smoke. "Now, when you yank open that door, and I do mean yank, YOU are going fist. Hands up at all times. Our horses are waiting for us. And if you do anything Allen or I don't like, you're dead. Got it?"

Jessie nodded as he finished with the last lock. He yanked the door open and a huge coughing fit hit him. He doubled over in pain, hearing gunfire and lost his mind as his lungs burned in the cool air.

**

Jessie opened his eyes gasping at the cold night air. He could taste the telltale metallic ting of blood on his lips and tongue. He must have passed out coughing. It wasn't the first time, and he doubted it would be the last. He was laying on a blanket, the sound of a crackling fire reached his ears in the dark cool night. "He's awake John."

The cattle dog tried to sit up and winced in pain. His chest and stomach hurt like hell. He hissed his breath and coughed more gently this time. His vision finally cleared enough from the crust from tears and smoke that he could take in his surroundings. A camp fire blazed merrily in front of him. They were in a canyon somewhere. Three horses were tired to a thick Mesquite tree and the smell of meat assaulting his nose whet his appetite.

The palomino, John, was seated across the fire from him, his pistol in his hand. "Well, for someone who has consumption, you sure were brave trying to keep us out behind that wall of lead!" The pony smiled at him. Jessie blinked a few times. "I, ah, have asthma." He coughed again.

The pony frowned. "Who told you that load of shit?" Jessie shook his head a little. "Doctor Martin Williams in Boston told me. Advised me to go to a dry climate."

The pony put the gun down. "And he was either a kind man or a big fool. Believe it or not I am, or was, a doctor. I've seen consumption many times, and what you have is not even close to asthma. He either didn't want to scare you, or was an idiot. I'd hate to think a fellow disciple of Hippocrates would be that big of a fool, so I'll take it he was trying to spare you the emotional trauma of your diagnosis."

The stallion sighed and the bull grunted.

"You are a doctor?" Jessie's eyes widened. "Was a doctor boy." John replied calmly. "During the war I got field training as a medic. Too young to fight the rebels, but young enough to work. After the war I studied at Yale, got my degree. Then decided to come out west. I had a practice here for a while, but found my feet wandering. Soon I had a nice big ranch, lots of cattle, and lots of money."

"B-b-but you robbed the bank!" Jessie almost shouted, he coughed a little tasting blood. He grimaced at the taste. The pony winced, and reached into a bag standing up. He walked over and handed the pup a bottle. "Here. Take a swig." the pony pulled the stopper out while he handed it to Jessie. He took a good pull on the bottle spluttering a little at the taste." "What..."

"Laudanum" the equine sighed taking the bottle and taking a pull himself. "It dulls the effects somewhat. You'll find alcohol does too. You aren't the only one in this group with consumption." He nickered a chuckle at the dog.

The pony had consumption? He had consumption? Jessie's head spun. He had no further plans for tonight than grabbing a quick meal, and then heading to bed, with a nice long day of rest tomorrow. Now, he was a hostage of some kind with two outlaws, one of whom diagnosed him with a fatal disease.

He shook his head.

"So, why did you rob the bank?" Jessie whispered.

The horse grimaced and the bull snorted. "Do you think we enjoy this way of life?" the bull rumbled. "No...." the cattle dog responded weakly. "We were driven to this way of life by your now former boss. He changed the books to make it look like I wasn't making my payments on the ranch. His little collie teller did it for him since it was in his hand. He did the same to John and Cody's records."

The bull sighed. "I resisted his men when they came to remove me from my property. I fought back, just as John and Cody were doing so several miles away. I killed three of them, John got four, and Cody two. In the end they captured us, and dragged us back to town. We were to be hung at dawn."

"But...a trial?" Jessie squeaked.

"Do you THINK Mr. Stillwell needs to hold a trial!? No, he'd just have us hung. It was justified in his mind. He'd have paid a judge off so that the law could be interpreted that we were too dangerous to let live any longer. We'd resisted him. Anyone, and anything that resists him gets killed!" The bull shouted.

"Easy Alan..." John reached over and rubbed the bull's forearm. "So we escaped and swore vengeance. We stole a bunch of his cattle last year and drove them to Mexico, me Alan and Cody, the Collie who was killed. We made a bunch of money, and then came back here, lay low in nearby towns and in Mexico to plan the robbery. Sorry you got caught up in it kid." John sighed.

The opium was doing its job. Jessie felt his aches lessen in his chest. "So now what?" Jessie scooted around the fire until he was next to John. The horse sighed. "Head west. California or Nevada. Somewhere that Stillwell doesn't have his horns in our business. Set up new ranches. Get our life's back in order." Jessie reached out and patted the horse on the shoulder.

It was a good plan. With the amount of money they had, they would be set for life. There really was no reason to set up ranches, but everyone has dreams. Jessie realized he'd never really had a dream before. He'd just been trying to survive. One day after another, no direction and no worries. Just try to get through today to tomorrow.

"Can I come with you?" The equine snapped his head around to look at the dog. "You can't be serious son, we're outlaws. If you join us, you'll be an outlaw as well!"

Jessie nodded. "I know. I have nothing else really. Family are all back east, I have no friends, and no real possessions. I've just been floating in life. You guys, well you have a plan. Stillwell is a bastard No one knows me as an outlaw yet. I could act as cover. Besides, you didn't kill me, and well, Doc, you did diagnose me properly. I'd rather KNOW that I have consumption than thinking it wasn't anything serious. The bitter pill of truth is better than the sweet taste of lies."

"Huh, maybe you're right. Well, you are your own man. Do you know how to shoot? Ride?" The bull stared at him intently waiting for an answer.

Jessie nodded. "I've done some shooting, practice mostly for self defense. Of course I know how to ride. How else would I get anywhere out here? I've had to deliver the books for Mr. Stillwell to the court house a few times."

The bull and horse shared a look and both nodded. "Ok, what's your name anyway?" The horse chuckled taking the cattle dogs paw in his and shaking it.

"Jessie, pleased to meet you."

**