Tuesday, March 23, 2010
FFF #25 Bad Karma, Wild West Style
He had been told crawling would get him nowhere. But somewhere deep down inside he knew that even if that was all he had left, was to crawl, it was better than giving up.
Bill Hornsdorf, why did you ever think of marrying that crazy ass bitch anyhow? He kept asking himself over and over again. Oh, that’s right, you fell in love with the woman who gave a good screw and stole your horses.
Seeing her in front of him on the horizon in the setting sun blowing smoke from her six shooter only made Bill more determined to make it home alive. He was going to kill her, even if it was the last thing he did before leaving this life.
Sally Skull knew that her third husband Bill Hornsdorf was becoming too involved in HER business. After all, she had been trading horses since she married her first husband, and once divorced from him, Sally started selling not only horses, but her body. They seemed to go hand in hand when times were tough. She could always find a posse to whore with when needed, then steal their horses in the middle of the night leaving them stranded. She didn’t have anything against them, it was just business.
What was she going to do with Bill? She couldn’t just let him walk away from their horrible marriage with half her stock and half her money. By God, all he does is sit in the saloon playin’ cards, drinkin’, and whorin’ with other women, what right does he think he has?
She wasn’t adverse to killing men, hell she had killed over three score – enough that she couldn’t count them anymore… and they all seemed to blend in together. The only man who stood out was her second husband, the lyin, cheatin, som’ bitch, who she killed out of cold blood. The bastard tried to sell her off to some Mexican cattle rancher.
She had whipped him raw then tied his 'man lovin’ ass' and gagged his 'lyin’ ass mouth,' and just to make him pay, drug him behind her horse. After he was pretty much done for, she hung him in a tree and left him there to die. When the lawmen came asking questions she told them she had been out on a drive and that he was supposed to be selling two horses to some fellows south of the border.
If there was anything good that came of that second marriage, it was the last name. No horse trader, man or woman, could ask for a better name. It was one that just stuck. Granted dressing like a man all the time and learning how to shoot like one seemed to help tremendously.
Skull lit up another smoke as she paced the length of the corral. I hate the dirty rotten bastard, she thought. Finishing her smoke the idea hit her and eagerly she planned out the rest of her evening.
Bill never saw it coming. He figured if he had to he could beat her into submission if he must, but only as a last resort. He knew he had asked for a ridiculous amount, but felt that from a marriage of hell, it was worth it. Besides, he felt he would get most of what he had asked for after threatening to take her to the law if she didn’t. He knew she had killed more men from trades gone sour than any other outlaw he had heard of in these parts.
Bill had taken his sweet time getting home. He was drunk, happy, and knew his wife wouldn’t expect anything from him.
Wait, what? Had been Bill’s thought when he walked into the house and Skull told him she wanted him to ride with her and check the property boundaries for any disturbances and that she needed to get a new head count on horses she had helped round up over the last week.
Bill couldn’t refuse; she had already packed everything and was completely ready other than having the horses saddled. They rode until the sun was touching the horizon and stopped to fix some quick supper and make camp.
He didn’t notice that she never unsaddled his horse, probably too busy thinking about getting something whipped up to eat. She picked at her food, but she did that frequently, so nothing new there. He watched her go to her saddle and loosen the leather ties holding the bed roll on.
He watched her lay hers out on the ground and then found himself staring at her as she began to unbutton her britches. Oh, how long it had been since he had been with her and seen her naked! She smiled mischievously when she had seen his reaction. Reaching into her pant let she drew a six shooter that had been holstered to her leg.
Bill felt the rounds penetrate his stomach, one in his lower leg and one in his shoulder. Three shots then she smiled and said, “Have a great death Bill, I never really loved you, it was only out of convenience… No, I didn’t have anything against you, it was just BUSINESS.” She turned and shot her horse – one of the lesser stock in her herd and took to his, riding off into the slow sinking sunset.
“Yes Sherriff… Deputy… How can I help you fine gentlemen today?” Bill nodded at both men.
“It’s Skull, Bill. She’s been found dead.”
“You don’t say?” Bill feigned a shocked look.
“Can you tell us where she was headed to or from?”
“And where you’ve been?” The deputy piped in.
“All I know was when I saw her last bout a week or so ago, she told me she was headed to Mexico to round up some new horses as well as deliver a few that didn’t go the last time round.”
“And…” A silent pause, “where were you?”
“Why boys, I’ve been right here, or at the Bar trying to get one of those new French saloon girls to let me take a ride, but Henry won’t let em.”
“Skull was found pretty beat up, Bill. Almost didn’t recognize her ‘cept she was wearin’ trousers. Only woman I know who wears trousers in these parts. Her face was smashed in, broken bones, and looked like six shooter bullets shot right into her chest. A rattle snake was jammed into her mouth and bite marks were all over her body. Looks like she suffered.”
“Must have pissed off the wrong horse trader if you ask me.”
“Speaking of horse traders, Bill, that’s other reason we’re here… came to see about cutting a deal about some new horses…”
If you are interested in reading more about Sally Skull, you can find it here: Old West Female Outlaws