Arlo Briggs's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Arlo Briggs had two pistols and no way to prove he could use them. He stood at the back of the Rowdy Saloon in his oversized duster and cracked boots, saved four months for those guns, and the gang he wanted still saw a scrawny kid in a costume. Six of their men had laughed him out of a saloon once. He meant to ride with them anyway. But a man did not buy into the Redrock outfit with money alone. He bought in with a reputation, and Arlo had none. Marcus Chen leaned on the bar beside him, nursing a drink he hadn't paid for. Marcus already rode with the gang. He was the boss's younger brother, which meant his word carried weight, and he was the only man in town who called Arlo a friend. "I can speak for you," Marcus said. "But my brother won't take my word on a kid he's never seen shoot. Nobody will." "Then they'll see me shoot." Marcus laughed, short and tired. "You walk up and say that, they'll stand you a drink and forget your name by morning." Ruby Valentine was finishing her last song on the little stage. When she sang, the drinkers set down their glasses. When she stopped, the room always turned mean. She stepped off the boards and crossed to the bar like she owned it. "Buy the boy his chance," she told Marcus. She tipped her head at the three whiskey bottles lined on the shelf behind the bartender. "Those. Nobody can miss them standing still. Anybody can miss them falling." Arlo looked at her. "You want me to hit three bottles in the air." "I want to see if you're worth my breath," Ruby said. "I carry names upward. I don't carry liars." Marcus set coins on the bar for the three bottles. The bartender swept them up and the room went quiet, the way it did when Ruby sang. Men turned on their stools. Here was something worth watching. Ruby took the three bottles herself. "Ready when you draw, kid." Arlo pulled both pistols. His hands were steady from four months of hauling freight. Ruby threw the bottles high, one, two, three. He fired. Glass burst above the bar. He fired again, and again, both hands working. Three sprays of whiskey and glass rained down on the floorboards. For a breath, nobody moved. Then a man by the window started it, and the whole saloon was stamping and hollering. Marcus stared, then grinned. "Now I've got something to tell my brother," he said. Ruby wiped a drop of whiskey from her cheek. "Word travels fast in this town," she said. "By tomorrow the Redrock outfit will know your name. The six who laughed will know it too." She did not smile. "You'd better hope they want the boy who can shoot more than they want the boy they ran off."