The sun hangs overhead, shining down on us unforgivingly. I've still not gotten used to the mid-day heat here, especially in this arid terrain the two of us are riding through right now. Virginia, of course, shows no signs of discomfort as she rides next to me—that woman practically lives and breathes this sort of empty wasteland. We ride along, the clopping of our horses' hooves hitting the ground, kicking up dust, the only sound. The quiet makes for a good moment to remember just how I got to this position in life. After all, this wasn't how I had planned my life. In fact, the life of an outlaw probably wouldn't even have been my tenth choice, but here I am, living exactly that life.
Things were different just a few months ago. I was a wildlife researcher that lived in a pretty bustling town a few states over. Modernization had begun to transform my hometown into an industrial boomtown, smokestacks billowing from the newly built machine-aided workshops being set up by the wealthy—I believe they called them "factories"—and while that brought a fair amount of wealth to the town, it did start intervening heavily with my work. Smog and pollution are in fact rather detrimental to the local wildlife, and I did not believe that things would change for the better, rather for the worse. So I had to move, and thankfully for me, a friend had quite the tales to tell. He told of a coastal city in which nature was respected more, where the surrounding areas were teeming with curious flora and fauna just waiting to be researched. Why, if I went there, I could possibly even discover a new breed that would be named after me!
And so, I packed up my belongings and bought a ticket for the next stagecoach to that city, determined to begin anew and make my mark. Riding along with a few other people with similar desires to mine—escaping the march of industry and retreating to somewhere more natural, be it for research, relaxation or retirement—I felt quite confident that I had made the right choice, but I was soon to be proven wrong. On the third day of the five day journey, the stagecoach was robbed by a band of outlaws. I had heard of these bandits, but I had never imagined that I myself would fall victim to them, much less what happened after that. First, the outlaws took our valuables, and when one of the other passengers resisted, they just shot him dead without even thinking about it. But then... she showed up.
The woman that was suddenly looking into the stagecoach seemed like she fit right in with all the other bandits—despite her attractiveness, she had an intensity about her that made it clear to anyone that this was a woman that loved to live on the wild side. Her gaze swept across the different passengers, eventually lingering on me, our eyes meeting for a moment before I felt forced to look away from her aggressive stare. She then turned back and yelled out "Hey, boss! I want to take this one with me!" before hopping down from the stairs of the coach and returning to what must have been the leader of the gang. I couldn't hear what was being said between the two, but after a few tense minutes, she returned, pointing directly at me. "You! City boy! You got two options: Come with me, or get your brains blown out. What'll it be?" she yelled.
Given that I still had some blood splatters on me from when that other passenger got shot, I was incredibly intimidated and couldn't remotely have even considered resisting at this point. She wanted me, and I supposed that I was just going to have to go along with that and hope for the best. All I could stammer out was a meek "I'll... I'll come along..." before she grabbed my arm, yanking me out of the coach before swiftly tying me up and throwing me onto her horse.
"Good choice, pardner. I knew you'd be a good boy." she then said. With the robbery of the stagecoach now finished, this woman and the rest of the gang went their separate ways, riding off and soon leaving me alone with that woman, hog tied and stashed on her horse. I had been in more dignified positions for sure. However, as the ride was quite long and quiet for a while, the two of us eventually got into a conversation, exchanging names and stories. I learned that her name was Virginia Banks, and she was an outlaw with the Dark Horse Gang, a name that wasn't familiar to me but was apparently quite notorious in this region. Virginia, however, likes to work on her own, doing things her way, and because she was adept at getting results and drawing heat from the main gang, the boss let her do her own thing mostly, with her only occasionally returning to the gang for larger runs.
But while working alone was all well and good for her, she wanted someone along with her, but not someone from the gang. She wanted someone new, fresh, that she could mold into her perfect partner. And apparently she had decided that I was to be that partner. So here I am now, a few months later, still riding alongside her and still alive, so things aren't going too bad, evidently. In fact, we had just finished a hit on a bank in a town a good distance away from both her hideout and the main gang's operating area in order to draw some heat away again, and everything went almost flawlessly. Though that was largely Virginia's doing—for now, I'm still not a major part in plans, more a helper and occasional second gunman there to stand menacingly and point a revolver at someone. Still, it worked—after casing the town for about a week, she had figured out an ideal schedule for when to hit the bank, where to go for the money, and how to get away. And we executed it just the way it was planned.
So here we are, riding back to the hideout with a sack of cash strapped to each of our horses, and I really am starting to feel like a partner to her. Her fiery and aggressive personality belies a fierce loyalty to those she considers to be her partners, and so she actually treats me pretty well now, giving me a good share of the loot and equal part to all the supplies at her hideout. And all she wants in exchange is undying loyalty and... the occasional sexual favor. Yes, as much of a whirlwind Virginia is outside the hideout, she's just as much a whirlwind in bed. Some nights, I end up sorer than I've ever been before in my life just from her wearing me out. Not to mention, she likes her alcohol... and the drunker she gets, the more intense she gets as well.
After another half hour of riding, we reach the wooded area that contains our shelter. Carefully maneuvering our horses through the forest, the small log cabin soon comes into view. "There we are! Home sweet home, how I've missed you so!" Virginia says as we hitch our horses outside. This remote area has served as her hideout for a long time now, and so far, nobody has ever found her here, meaning that we can be fairly casual here. We haul the loot inside, and she quickly grabs one of her whiskey bottles, taking a celebratory swig. "Alright, city boy, I don't know about you, but a good robbery is just the thing to get me all worked up and excited for some more action. And you've been good, so I'll give you a choice: We can either hit up Silver Creek, or stay here." she says in between drinks.
Silver Creek is a nearby town... well, not really a town. Practically a hamlet, actually. It sprung up after there were rumors of a nearby silver vein, but those turned out to be false, leaving Silver Creek's name as nothing but a bit of an ironic joke, and the population appropriately low. However, it does have a saloon, which is really all Virginia needs to have a good time, and so it works for our purposes. The most we do there is get drunk and start the occasional bar fight, so while we do have a bit of a reputation as troublemakers there, we're not considered to be real dangerous, which is good.
"What did you have planned?" I simply asked in return.
"Well, pardner, I'm ready to go crazy. So 's far as I'm concerned, here's how tonight is going to go: We stay here, break open the good shit I've got in reserve, get shitfaced and get to fuckin' all night long... or we head down to Silver Creek, hit up that shitty podunk saloon, get shitfaced there, and go from there. I might end up trying to fuck either you or someone else there too. We did so good in that bank, I feel like just cuttin' loose tonight, y'know? Just get real rowdy."
When she gets like this, I absolutely can't dissuade her from her plans, and I'm just along for the ride. And so, I make my decision: "