Rosa and I sat quietly for hours after that. It was nice. As much as I enjoyed conversing with a smart and beautiful woman, silence was comforting in its own right. To not have to fill in the gaps with rambling drivel. To just… be together.

  Was this what it felt like to be close with someone? Truly close? Made what I had with my outlaw brothers back in the day feel childish.

  We stared out the windows at endless fields as the train rattled down tracks laid by the tears and sweat of countless men, both those willing and those at the end of a whip. The bloody skeleton of this growing nation.

  And the end of Rosa’s and my little expedition, the very capital.

  Back in the day, Ace had loads to say about the leadership of the nation. “A sinner I may be, but at least I ain’t government,” was an oft-quoted line. However, the one that stood out most to me was that “The place where they make the laws is the place least likely to obey them.”

  And I wasn’t talking about our nation’s capital. Heaven had some answers to give. They’d probably choose to stay silent on the matter, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it, but choosing that son of a bitch, Ace, to hunt us down? Was Genghis Khan not interested?

  “It’s beautiful,” Rosa said, snapping the peace of silence like cannon fire.

  “What is?” I asked.

  “The country.”

  She wasn’t wrong. The farther east we went, the greener it got. Now, I’m not saying I ain’t touched in the heart by rocky vistas, but it was easy to start seeing now why countless settlers crossed the oceans to be here. All this land, and my family and countless others moved farther out where green was rare.

  To a land of new opportunity. What baloney. For monsters, perhaps. More like shoveling people out of the way so they can lay down more track and leave the rabble to dry dirt and baking sun.

  “Until they build all over it from sea to shining sea,” I said.

  “Who’s they?”

  “Does it matter? People. Civilization won’t stop spreading. Honestly, I don’t think God really understands what he unleashed down here in this big unholy mess.”

  “Doesn’t it scare you, saying things like that?”

  I chuckled. “What are they gonna do, kill me more?”

  What happened next was a bit chaotic. Rosa’s calming influence over the other passengers had faded. Whether it was a matter of time, or because she’d lost focus, I didn’t know.

  But a few murmurs started, and then a scream.

  I rose, ready to force everyone back into their seats, when a woman a few rows in front of us pointed out the window, shouting something about riders. I leaned over, doing my best to peer through my own window to see what was; indeed, two men on horseback.

  Seemed we had ourselves a good old-fashioned train robbery. So much for my and Rosa’s pleasant time together.

  Problem was, these outlaws hadn’t begun to consider the implications of attacking a train currently occupied by a Hand of God and whatever Rosa was. I’d do my damndest to keep her and everyone else on this train safe. Funny enough, I wasn’t even sure she needed my help anymore. Might be her keeping me out of harm’s grasp again.

  Speaking of unholy, the other thing that happened—the confusing, chaotic part—was that our neighbor turned to Rosa, eyes empty and black as death. Dark little veins coruscated from the corners of them like little spiderwebs, and a deep, pus-filled chasm that I was sure hadn’t been there before now dripped from his forehead.

  He spoke, and his voice sounded like Hell’s choir. “You cannot escape. You are mine.” It was a voice I’d heard before, deep, ethereal, and everywhere. “You have always been mine, and with your power, I will be the Lord of Hell. You. Are. Mine. Rosa.”

  The man spasmed, his chest heaving forward, then slamming back into his seat. Spit flew from his mouth in thick gobs. His teeth chattered so hard, he bit his tongue, causing blood to spatter the seat in front of him, then pour down onto his chest.

  “And you,” he said, snapping back to attention and focusing directly on me. “Your day of atonement has arrived, James Crowley. So long we’ve planned for you to deliver her to me into Hell. The Betrayer will not delay my ascension again!”

  As suddenly as the possession had begun, it was over, and the man keeled over. His face went stark white, and I couldn’t see him breathing.

  “Chekoketh,” I muttered.

  Served me right for enjoying a bit of peace and quiet for a spell. The other player had returned to the board. And if I hadn’t guessed it before, he’d confirmed it now—the trickster demon had his sights set on Satan’s throne. He believed Rosa could help get him there.

  Over my undead body.

  One other thing he said stuck to me like a bad case of syphilis: “We planned.”

  If he was going rogue, that meant it wasn’t Lucifer. I wasn’t privy to the politics of the underworld and knowing demons, but I’m sure there was constant jockeying for power. And there was something about the tone. We. As if I knew the other member of that particular party.

  No time to dwell on it.

  Rosa looked at me. That was when I realized there was no fear present in her eyes. Fire burned there, hot and violent. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, I suppose. She wasn’t gonna lie down and take it. She was tired of being the prey.

  The third thing to happen wasn’t immediately noticed. The train car became utterly quiet. All screaming had stopped. The panicked atmosphere that previously permeated the air was absent. When I could finally tear my eyes from Rosa, I found out why.

  The passengers, every damn one of them, were turned toward us. That same sickly white complexion I’d seen on our neighbor covered them, as well as pus-soaked wounds that began to peel their skin back. As it dripped out, it instantly turned to ice. They stared like we were on fire, then slowly ambled our way.

  “James, look!” Rosa pointed outside as if I didn’t have enough to worry over.

  I followed her finger. A blizzard raged outside, so bad, I could no longer see anything but white as the train zipped through wherever we were. And it was cold. Unnaturally, hellishly cold. I couldn’t feel it, but could tell by the frost coruscating across glass and metal.

  Leaping to my feet, I caught a glimpse of one of the riders. This wasn’t just some run-of-the-mill train robber. His black horse stood out like a dark beacon amongst the snow, as did the rider, clad entirely in a black cloak. Long, skeletal fingers gripped the reins. Its face turned toward me, and though it was mostly shrouded in shadow, I could see its hollowed-out eye sockets and something wriggling within them like maggots.

  At first, I thought it was the grim reaper, back to exact some sort of judgment after what had been done to him in the Hell Mouth outside of Crescent City. Except, something wasn’t right.

  For now, I did the only thing I knew how and pulled my silver-loaded Peacemakers. As the passengers drew closer, I could see it in their mindless eyes—they were out for blood, whether I had any or not.

  “We can’t,” Rosa said, pressing her hand against my arm. “They’re innocent.”

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “And now they’re lost.”

  “You don’t know that!”

  I growled. Maybe she was right, but I couldn’t just stand back and let them attack like ravenous zombies.

  The mayhem wasn’t finished, though. Sounds like gunshots cracked against the side of the train. With each one, shards of ice exploded, until finally, one hit a window and crashed through. Glass mingled with the ice to form a deadly spray. I threw myself over Rosa, and though I couldn’t feel it, I knew my new duster was getting a good break-in.

  From there, it was as if a swarm of locusts had descended upon the train. And it turned out, that was exactly what it was.

  Frost-covered bugs whipped around the car. One sliced across my face and opened up a dust-filled gash. If one of those things hit Rosa, buckets of blood would follow.

  “We have to do something!” I shouted as the first of the zombified passengers drew near enough to us to slash.

  Rosa made the first move, speaking calmly. “Stop.”

  She spoke the word with horrifying authority, and all at once, the closest of the passengers fell limp to the floor.

  I shoved my pistols into their holsters. Then, squeezing past Rosa, I flipped one of my pistols around. Holding it by the barrel, I wielded the thing like a club. When I swung, connecting with one of the fluttering locusts, the creature erupted into splinters of ice that slashed and pierced everything in its path.

  One of the zombies caught a fragment in its neck, and cold, blue blood spilled out of the wound as the person collapsed.

  I looked back at Rosa. Several passengers now lay inert at her feet, but she looked wobbly on hers, as if expending so much of her energy had left her sapped again.

  “Rosa!”

  “I’m… okay… James.”

  “We gotta go!” I shouted, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her forward.

  I batted aside two of the zombie-like passengers. We fought our way to the front of the train car where I shouldered through the door with enough force it would have rendered a normal man incapacitated. Then we passed onto the connection platform leading to the next wagon.

  Dozens of fluttering locusts overwhelmed us in an instant. We both swatted them—Rosa with her fists, and me with my handguns. A mere second, and Rosa was covered in scores of small cuts. None were fatal, but it’d only take one.

  Something grabbed on to my back, long fingernails digging into my cheek. I glanced back to see a man—looked like a regular old businessman in the midst of traveling to his next meeting. Except, like the others, he’d gone pale, and his skin was vile with festering sores.

  I reached overhead and hauled him over my shoulder. His loafered foot just missed clipping Rosa, which might have led to her toppling off the platform and onto the quick-moving rails below. The man landed with a squelch and scrambled to rise again.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, pressing my boot against his neck and shoving him off the moving train. His body bounced and hopped until we no longer saw him through the veil of snow.

  I threw open the door that would take us into the safety of a new rail car, hoping there wasn’t more of the same inside. That was when I looked to my right to see a second rider. This one now rode not a horse, but a giant insect—a demonic-looking dragonfly or something like it. It flew in close, icy eyes locked on mine. And with its presence, the nagging locusts made space.

  He hissed, and when he did, a dozen stinging insects zipped from his open maw, straight at us.

  I shoved Rosa forward, clearing the doorway in time to avoid their attack. However, it seemed we’d merely leaped from the frying pan directly into open flame. Standing before us was a man who appeared to be the former ticket master. His eyes looked as dark and possessed as our old neighbor friend.

  He didn’t move to strike, just stood there until, finally, he opened his mouth for Chekoketh to speak through him. “My horsemen cannot be stopped.”

  His horsemen, huh?

  “Your end has come.”

  As soon as the last word left his lips, the ticket master forced himself upon me, arms outstretched and teeth bared.

  I heard a gunshot, saw the blue blood spilling from a hole in the man’s forehead, then turned to see a five-shooter gripped in Rosa’s fist.

  “If it’s us or them,” she said, “it’s going to be them.”

  It was nice to finally be with someone who understood my dilemma of trying to do the right things when every force and power on Earth and above pushed against it. I hated that it had to be her. You can only try to play hero for so long before you realize we’re knee deep in gray.

  “Alright, let’s go,” I told her as we pushed deeper into the car.

  Despite my desires, the carriage was filled with more passengers who weren’t of their own minds, and the damn locusts were back. I spun, batting a few down, shooting others.

  The side of the train car wilted, and a deafening screech rang out. The insect mount pressed against it, wings beating like thumping drums. Its feelers stuck through windows and glass, peeling back metal. The ghastly rider leaned in, nothing but a shade obscured by the locusts. In fact, closer now, I could see that its very being was locusts, writhing and fluttering around each other.

  With the raising of a hand, dozens of them sloughed off and swarmed up its arm, ready to be sent at us. I quickly threw my lasso and snagged one of the bug-mount’s antennae and yanked. Half the locusts tore through one of its mandibles as I pulled it in the way. The rest battered against the side of the train, with only a few zipping through the now shattered windows. Two harmlessly slashed me. One sliced a chunk out of Rosa’s calf and sent her to one knee.

  At the sight of her injured, I wasn’t thinking straight. I bolted toward the busted windows and jumped through, out into the storm. Using the momentum of my lasso, I swung around, smashing into the rider. The bugs comprising its face shrieked in anger as I whipped back around. I was sent legs first back into the cabin, while the end of my lasso drove the bug under the wheels. The whole train car lurched. Zombies staggered and toppled as it squashed the thing’s head like, well… a bug.

  “James!” Rosa screamed.

  She, too, had been sent off-balance, and at least three of the zombies had their arms around her. She kicked, slashed, and even bit, but they had been taken by forces of evil, made numb to pain. Sound familiar?

  Propelling myself over a row of seats, I shouldered into them and endured the bites they intended for her. I helped her to her feet, and it was back to swinging and bashing with my pistols like clubs. In these close quarters, there was no time for reloading.

  “We can’t keep this up!” I shouted as we found ourselves back-to-back. She wielded my rifle like a bo-staff while keeping one knee on a seat to stay upright with her wounded leg.

  I wasn’t worried about me in the least, but with Rosa already battered up, I couldn’t stomach the thought of one of these bastards getting a good chunk out of her. And the lord of bugs would be back, no doubt in my mind.

  “What do we do!” She swung and broke a zombie’s nose, blue blood erupting like a pimple.

  “Not we—you.”

  A possessed woman gnawed at my heel, so I drove the hard edge of my boot down, crunching skull.

  “Show your power, Rosa!”

  “I can’t… I don’t…”

  A zombified woman caught the rifle and fought to wrestle it out of her grip. At the same time, a man used the wall to leap at me in a move that reminded me of Beast Boy, and I caught him midair before throwing him at the woman Rosa struggled with. It was a hard thing to watch, him flying through the air like that. The action at least helped Rosa regain control of the rifle and she used it to clock another attacker in the jaw.

  “You can!” I implored. “Reach inside yourself, Rosa.”

  “All these people, James—”

  “Are lost!”

  If there was one thing I’d learned about this extent of demonic magic, it was that there was rarely a way back. In nearly all cases, possessions were a one-way street. Could I be certain? No. But Hell didn’t make a move like this and leave a trail. These poor people were damned no matter what.

  “Don’t be afraid,” I said. “That power belongs to you. Not Hell. Not Heaven. You. It’s yours to keep. It’s what your mother died to keep!”

  “Get behind me!” She seized me by the back of the shirt and swung me around until my back pressed against the side wall of the train car. It was as strong an order as I’d ever received. I dared not disobey.

  Raising her hands, palms facing outward toward the mindless horde, she closed her eyes. Nothing happened.

  “Rosa!” I shouted.

  “I’m trying!”

  Her arms quaked with unseen effort. I wished I could do more to coach her, but Hands of God aren’t blessed with any magic like her. What we come with are intrinsic gifts. Why? You’d have to ask Shargrafein. Though I suppose if I’d gone rogue and had Rosa’s abilities, it’d have been harder to tighten my leash.

  The zombies closed in. If Rosa didn’t make a move, I’d have to step in and get back to the hacking and the slashing. She cursed at herself in Spanish—as if that’d help.

  Then, the possessed men and women stopped moving. Slowly they swayed, gawking at us with their cold, dead eyes.

  “What’s the matter, girl?” Chekoketh spoke through all of them in unison. “Afraid to murder all these people? Don’t be. They are pawns. Nothing more. You are so far above them. So far above him.”

  She clutched her ears. “Quiet!”

  “Do you think this traitor can help you? This Hamsa? It was I who unlocked your powers when I dragged you to my domain! Only I can help you reach your potential.”

  “Says the coward king hiding behind his pawns!” I hissed.

  I was ignored. Every eye of the possessed fixated on her, and only her. I may as well have been a ghost.

  “Is that not what you want?” Chekoketh continued. “To never fear again? Never run again. To command death?”

  “Leave me alone!” Rosa snapped.

  As she did, her eyes shone like the sun, blazing and hot. The very air within the cabin grew distorted. Sweat poured down the foreheads of the zombies.

  Chekoketh groaned. “Even now you hold back. Embrace your destiny, Rosa. Unleash who you are, and all of Heaven shall tremble in the face of their own creation! Stop running!”

  With a scream, Rosa’s hands shot forward. A wave of pure radiance exploded from them, confined by the walls of the train. It was like the tube of wood and metal hyper-focused the energy. The zombified passengers not only reeled backward, but as their bodies shifted, they soon turned to fluttering ash.

  Outside, the snow brought by the hellish horseman melted instantly, morphing into a tidal wave that caught them and hoisted them away like Noah’s flood. The train car jerked violently, but Rosa stayed focused. We both did.

  When it was over, she didn’t move. Just stood, a sweaty mess of blood and cinders, arms outstretched and huffing for air.