quote:
If it keeps on rainin'
The levee's gonna break.
If it keeps on rainin'
The levee's gonna break.
When the levee breaks,
you'll have no place to stay.
--
"When The Levee Breaks", Led Zeppelin
September 17th, 1880. Afternoon. Deadwood, Sioux Nations
The sky weeps, pouring rain on Deadwood. The roads, already a thick mass of sticky, stinking mud, turn into a quagmire. The rain beats on the rooftops like a marching drum, a steady staccato beat punctuated by the march of soldiers as they search alleyways, tents, and saloons for the outlaw Darius Carter.
Art and
Moses make their way through Deadwood in this downpour. They pass through Celestial Alley, filled with signs in both Chinese and English, but empty of people. A number of cats watch them pass by.
They reach the Iron Dragon depot, and spot a train halted at the platform. Blue-uniformed soldiers guard the train, while several enter the passenger compartments and the cargo cars. Past the depot, they reach an area that has been fenced off. Beyond it, a number of saloons lie gutted and shattered, and there's a crater in the middle of the street. Moses fills a chill down his spine as he passes by the area. Soldiers seem to be removing corpses and wounded from one of the buildings -- whatever happened here didn't happen that long ago. The soldiers glance at Moses and Art's entourage of indians, but don't interfere with them.
Past that, the nearest open saloon is the Mint Gambling House.
Leopold von Steinhof, sleeping off his drunken binge from the last few hours, is woken up by an unseasonable rumble. Thunder? No. Someone is knocking at his chamber door.
James Wilder makes it back to the DMA Stockade, where he finds Frank Bryant and a large contingent of men passing out rifles and pistols in the courtyard.
"Now, this bastard's been bird-dogging us for months!" The large man shouts at the assembled over the pounding rain.
"So if you see Carter, you fucking shoot to kill! We'll show him that he don't get to cross Deadwood's finest and live to tell about it! We'll show that Wild Bunch out there that we're not takin' their shit anymore!"
"Huzzah!" The crowd of gunmen shouts.
"Death to Carter! Death to the Wild Bunch! Death to the redskins! Death to the chinks! Death to all them motherfuckers who get in our way!" Bryant roars.
"Huzzah!"
"Huzzah!"
"Huzzah!"
Jackie Wells has a cabin on the outskirts of town. She doesn't invite
Zeke,
Logan, or
Katy inside while she changes, so they're left standing awkwardly on the porch with Wild Bill Hickok, who just watches them all. It's more than a little uncomfortable.
When Jackie leaves, she's wearing more normal wear for her -- jeans, boots, a button-up shirt, vest, and a longcoat, her gatling pistol holstered at her side and a fancy-looking rifle of unfamiliar design on her back.
"Right. Ready." She says.
"Now, let's see to findin' the Prospector."
"Goin' rather heavily heeled, ain't ya?" Wild Bill comments.
Jackie shrugs.
"I ain't expectin' trouble, but I weren't expectin' it before, neither. If trouble does come, I want it to have troubles with me." She adjusts the rifle.
"Besides, I got some things to tell Coot that he might not believe right away. A good demonstration'll go a long way there, and I don't have the credentials I used to have."
In the Mint Saloon,
Matt Broaddale eventually staggers downstairs, unsure whether he's just had the most intense sexual experience of his life or gone several rounds with a wild mink. He's sore in random places, found out the hard way about the little pearl-grip straight razor in the hair, and is entirely too euphoric to care.
Maddox, meanwhile, is taking in a drink while
Belle watches from a nearby table.
A burly Native American with a mohawk, dressed in Union Blues, steps into the saloon. The barkeep, Dandy Don, looks up in alarm.
"Hey! What's the big idea?" He says.
The indian shakes off some water, then stomps over to the bar, leaving a trail of mud.
"Where Mad-Docs?" he growls.
Belle recognizes the Indian right away...it's the rude Pawnee from earlier!
Dandy Don shrugs.
"Don't know if I can help you, sir." he says.
"Mad-docs!" The mohawked indian shouts.
"Where find Mad-docs?" He waves a crumpled, wet piece of paper.
"Talking leaf say, find Mad-Docs if find whore. Sitting Duck find whore, want bounty! Where find Mad-docs!?"