CHAPTER 6 The Devils Daughters - When the Viper Strikes

The healing man stands silent by the door,
as morning light gathers upon the floor.
They offer nods of thanks and saddle tight,
riding away from shadows of the night.
The shimmering heatwaves twisting like wire,
paint the desert trail in silent fire.
With Carson City calling from the north,
the four branded outlaws gallop forth.

​The canyon narrows down to seal their fate,
twenty grim vaqueros lay in wait.
With loaded rifles, silent and alert,
their silver spurs clink low against the dirt.
Their leather chaps are caked in grease and grime,
cruel desert wolves who bide their lawless time.

​A scarred mestizo from the pack appears,
the ghost who hunted Cora through the years.
A pallid line splits through his throat and chin,
the ragged remnant of a mortal sin.
The Viper freezes, looking at his face,
as memories of horror fill the space.
The night he dragged her friend into the shed,
the night she stole his iron, left him dead.

​"I didn't die, you little desert snake,"
the scarred vaquero growls, his fingers shake.
"The bullet missed the vein but left the scar,
and I have hunted for you from afar."
The twenty riders cock their carbines low,
Belle shifts her weight, her fingers poised to go.
But Cora drops her rifle to the sand,
and draws a long Bowie knife into her hand.

​"This score is mine," the Viper softly sighs,
her green eyes locked into his wicked eyes.
The scar-faced man leaps downward with a thud,
his boots kick up the dry and dusty mud.
He pulls a sharpened blade of heavy steel,
to make the fierce young viper beg and kneel.
The twenty riders form a ring of bone,
leaving the two to fight this grudge alone.

​The silence stretches, suffocating, hot,
as sweat drips down upon this blood-soaked spot.
The devil lunges with a savage scream,
his blade slicing through the midday gleam.
The sharpened edge inflicts a brutal tear,
as ruby droplets catch the blinding glare.
Her green eyes narrow in the heavy blaze,
tracking his shadow through the dusty haze.

​He thrusts again, a brutal, low-line drive,
to ensure the phantom shadow won't survive.
Cora ducks beneath the heavy, swinging arm,
her nimble boots escaping mortal harm.
She drives her heavy Bowie straight and true,
cutting the demon’s muscular forearm through.
Bright red arterial spray hits the sand,
as tendons snap within his gripping hand.

​The bastard howls, but shifts the heavy blade,
into his left hand, fury unallayed.
He tackles Cora down into the dirt,
two bodies rolling in a world of hurt.
He presses steel against her straining throat,
his rotten breath dampening her collar coat.
The blade nips skin, a droplet starts to trace,
a mask of terror on her sun-bronzed face.

​With gasping breath, she jams her thumb down deep,
into his blinded eye to make him weep.
He shrieks in agony and loses grip,
as Cora twists away with sudden slip.
She rises fast and drives the Bowie knife,
directly through his ribs to take his life.
The steel grinds hard against the brittle bone,
the dying monster lets out one last groan.

​She twists the handle, a remorseless scene,
washing her haunted past and spirit clean.
His lungs collapse, a froth of dark red foam,
as his dark spirit leaves its earthly home.
He slumps face forward in the desert grime,
a final payment for his ancient crime.
The twenty riders stare in stunned dismay,
as Cora wipes the dripping steel away.

​Belle raises up her Colt with freezing stare,
"Who wants to be the next to perish there?"
The vaqueros look upon their leader dead,
and turn their horses back with mounting dread.
They part the way and let the sisters through,
the lawless pack gives way to Belle and her crew.
They leave the corpse to rot beneath the sun,
another chapter of their vengeance done.

​But Cora's hand is shaking on the rein,
her leather jacket soaked in dark red stain.
The healer's warning echoes in her head,
as they ride past the dark blood freshly shed.

​The trail behind them breathes an icy sigh,
where broken crows across the desert fly.
The ghosts of who they were still haunt the track,
as bleeding memories come rushing back.
Cora grips her leather reins with tight control,
the bleeding steel has cut into her soul.

​Belle looks upon her hands in silver light,
no longer soft, but sculpted by the fight.
The ghost of silk is buried in the mud,
her childhood kingdom christened in the blood.
She leads her pack through ruins of the past,
to find the peace she prays will come at last.

​Red hair unfurls like embers on the wind,
as Sadie counts the ways her youth was sinned.
The saloon darling strips away her smile,
and lets her silent teardrops fall a while.
Her twin chrome plates are heavy on her hip,
to flash with vengeance from her lethal grip.

​Young Jessie looks onto her mother’s page,
to fan the dying cinders of her rage.
The Hell Cat chokes her childhood to the bone,
to claim a father she has never known.
Four battered sisters hardened by the cold,
who traded peaceful youth for justice bold.

​Carson City’s dark shadow, cold and deep,
a labyrinth where restless horrors sleep.
Their path of fury wakes a mortal fright,
as cursed weight consumes the fading light.
Above the blackened roofs, the gargoyles loom,
and loaded weapons whisper in the gloom.

​They spur their horses through the ash and grey,
to bleed the night before the break of day.

STAY TUNED FOR THE EPIC CONCLUSION............................