Nunslinger 11

by Stark Holborn

Genres: Westerns

Synopsis

The year is 1864. Sister Thomas Josephine is on her way from St Louis, Missouri, to Sacramento, California. During the course of her journey, however, she'll find that her faith requires her to take off her wimple and pick up a gun. Amongst the frenzy and the greed of the Colorado silver mines, Sister Thomas Josephine finds that the murders she has been framed with are part of something larger and far more horrifying; the brainchild of a person whose obsession is too familiar to be coincidence. And what is worse, they know her weakness. Finally nearing the end of her epic journey west, Sister Thomas Josephine finds her faith and her strength tested in unimaginable ways. But, with the help of some old friends and a few new, no low-down varmint stands a chance against her!

Release date: September 11, 2014

Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton

Print pages: 80

Sample

CHAPTER ONE

Eleven hundred pieces of silver

 

SIX-GUN SISTER DEAD IN FINAL, BLOODY CONFRONTATION

Murder begat murder here in the lawless west, when the SIX-GUN SISTER Thomas Josephine, formerly of St. Louis Missouri, was finally relieved of her life last week at a ranch on the border of the Colorado Territory.

The struggle that took place at the remote dwelling is believed to have been a fierce one, for reports have been returned to The Californian – the newspaper with the largest weekly circulation in the Western states – of a grisly tableau. The Sister lay outside the house, leaving the bodies of her victims within. Her face a mask of sinner’s blood, her throat slashed from ear to ear. Some are taking this as proof that the Sister – overcome by the burdensome guilt of her heinous crimes – took her own life.

Purportedly, the sky grew black all around as her body was taken up, and men feared that the wrath of the Lord would descend upon them. Several witnesses there present swore that they saw her soul being lifted, borne away by a winged demon and an angel both, toward judgement.

Sister Thomas Josephine – known as the most wanted woman in the west, whose exploits have been faithfully reported by your dedicated correspondent at The Californian – was held accountable for eight charges of murder across the states of Nevada, California, Arkansas, and the Colorado Territory, and is also believed to have been responsible for the recent slaughter of innocent citizens at smallholdings across the New Mexico territory.

Her fellow partners in crime, the TRAITOR ABRAHAM C. MUIR and the vicious OUTLAW COLM PUTTICK remain at large.

 

The candle flame took the newspaper. Its bright fingers reached out, tasting the edges before consuming it whole. I watched it burn until nothing remained.

The rain fell like gravel upon the tin roof, hissing away to form muddy puddles on the hard earth outside. Someone started up coughing on the other side of the room, and I hunkered down a little further. The building was neither trading post nor saloon, but it was the only shelter for miles. The floor was littered with travellers, bedraggled and footsore, many hiding tell-tale Confederate gray beneath their blankets.

I had no money, but a pair of rabbits I had caught were enough to buy me a glass of whiskey and a few inches of floor space for the night. I took a sip of the cloudy, brown liquid. It burned my throat and I shuddered, but was grateful. I had barely eaten, barely slept for days, and that burning served to fill some of the hollowness in my stomach.

My head dropped to my knees. I saw again the woman’s face as she fell. I had achieved what I had set out to do; I had stopped the killing of innocents, but at what cost? I took another large gulp of the whiskey, trying not to remember.

I had fled that ranch, leaving the dead where they had fallen. The sight of the portrait, signed by a dead man had driven me into blind panic. I had ridden as though there were a demon upon my heels, out into the darkness.

I did not remember the journey, save for the thoughts that rolled incessantly through my mind: wherever Sister Thomas Josephine trod, she brought death. I saw them again, those who had perished along my path, Laverman, Falk, Chicken. I saw Carthy once more, his heaven-blue eyes pleading with me the moment before he fell. I saw Muir, as he tumbled from a cliff with a bullet in his chest; as he stood, beaten but gentle upon the gallows; as he smiled at me sleepily in an outlaw’s cave.

I bit back the sorrow that threatened to wrack my body. He would be better off without me, I told myself, it was the Lord’s will. Here was my chance to break the cycle of death, to begin again, and do God’s work.

Yet every time I tried to pray, Abe’s face caught itself up in my litanies, his voice tangled around the holy words in my mind. And at every other moment, I remembered that name I had once so feared, heard again the final words upon a dead woman’s lips.

Windrose. His name was Windrose.

CHAPTER TEN

And vows are to be paid

 

I soon discovered that the editor of the Denver Rancher was right: once T. . .