Boom of a firearm drew Cassidy. The desperado used a shotgun to destroy any Weeper in his way. Markus Meacham held the talisman in a death grip. All the afflicted seemed unable to see the mad man. Doggedly he pursued Gregory, face a twisted mask of hate. Afflicted men threw themselves in front of the gun. Absolute will kept him after the child.

"You DOG," the bounty hunter drew the revolver, fired, and the shotgun flew from his hands.

The desperado turned, "You have no idea what it is! Ruben is a fool! Such creatures must be destroyed!" Eyes wild, a hand went to the iron on his hip. The brash rancher was smart to have such as him to pursue the child. He'd murder many tribespeople, women and children. It made no difference, so long as he got paid. There was a little joy in it. Never had the mad man seen such devils as the babe and mother, yet the talisman protect him from even her.

Cassidy drew, hand smooth even in rage. The man staggered back, blood spread from the center of his chest, but raised the gun at Gregory. Cassidy's revolver boomed again. From the desperado's head blood and brains gushed.

"Filthy, yellow dog," the bounty hunter spit.

Towards the baby he looked, heart pounded. He pushed towards the house, and more of the gun hands of the Loyal Lady fell. Over the ranch whispers of hurt rage resounded. Again, the silhouette of the creature, beast or woman, emerged in the dark. Beneath her was the girl, Christy, who was taken with Ruben Lawson. Terror had mangled her face. Eyes of the creature found the bounty hunter, before the shadows swept over the figure, which his mind insisted was only a phantom. Must have fled here he thought to push away the beastly woman's image. Eyes found pouty lips colored a deep whore red by blood. Cassidy frowned, pushed past, but she was clearly dead, heart gone. Time and duty had made him accustom to seeing men dead, yet the sight of women or children slaughtered seared the heart.

Some had been afflicted, in their head, after the war. Sometimes, while on the battlefield, the bounty hunter had heard the voices of the fallen. They haunted uneasy dreams where death always came. Then, as now, he dismissed it, and forced such thoughts down to the dark. Now, he must save the child, but in dreams the malevolence of the world found him. Find him it always would, but not now.

"She must have loved him," Cassidy whispered to banish the darker thoughts, "If she ran here, jealous little fool."

A few of the Weepers carried Gregory inside the ranch house. Curse on his lips, he ran after them towards the door. The afflicted stilled. None pursued Cassidy, or even acknowledged him. Fresh ash, slaughter, and the heat of fires washed over him. The ranch was filled by the rancid stench of the illness. Terror lapped at his guts, rose with bile to the throat, but he refused to think of the baby hurt. He begged to a God, who he denied, so an innocent would be spared.

Into the house he burst, gun raised. The Weepers, who held the infant, were still, but the baby was gone. "Gregory," Cassidy yelled, and then cursed.

A woman screamed, and the bounty hunter ran to it. In Ruben's den, they stood. Cassidy froze, as Lawson's gun moved to him, before it went back to the tribeswoman. Gregory laid his head on her lithe shoulder and dozed. She wore fox furs over a too thin body, which bordered on starved. Darker than the baby, Cassidy knew she was the child's mother; her beauty marked the child. Ruben licked his lips, eyes flitted to his wife. She looked at him, to the kid, and then to the dark skin beauty, confused.

"It is time you saw Nastas," she said with a smile, though the words were bitter.

"What have you done, Kai?!" he bleated, coolness undone.

"I'm helping you keep your word," she glanced at his wife, "isn't that what you want, a loyal lady with a devout heart?"

"What is she talking about, Ruben?" Miss Lawson looked at him, Kai, and to the baby. Mouth contorted, tears welled, but reluctant to look at her husband.

"Women always know," the dark skin beauty's words broke, "even if we lie to ourselves."

"She's lying!" he looked at his wife, but she would not meet his gaze.

"I wanted to give you a child," Miss Lawson sobbed.

"Lies," Kai looked at her, "yours or his, it is a falsehood. A man such as him always cheats, now I see it." Her eyes went back to Ruben, "Your other lover couldn't make it. Without others to sick on me, she was not much of a threat. All I wanted was to feed OUR baby, but you made sure I couldn't go to my people. I was warned, but I chose you over them, Ruben."

He jerked, "I've had enough of you!" The gun rose.

"NO," Cassidy drew, shot, and the gun tore from his hand.

Ruben grabbed his hand, trigger finger broken, "WHAT, she is a WITCH!"

"No one orders a baby to be murdered," the bounty hunter hissed, hard grin seized the rancher.

Kai looked at Cassidy, "If only he was a man like you." Dark eyes, under a fox skull cap, found Miss Lawson, "Now for you, a man with a devout heart should only have one lover." Knocks came to the windows, bangs on the walls, and scraping on the roof.

Black tears spilled down dove-white cheeks. Miss Lawson coughed up black worms, "Oh God, I feel…oh GOD!"

"Should be you," Cassidy cursed at Lawson, but ran to his wife. Everything was mad, and the bounty hunter forced the din in his mind to quiet.

Kai studied the bounty hunter, and Miss Lawson's face cleared, affliction gone fast as it had struck. "I came to have a promise fulfilled," she said as a judge passes a ruling.

"Take HIM," Miss Lawson ran without a glance back. She ran out into the night, but heart wracked sobs lingered after her departure.

Kai turned to Ruben, as the ranch owner wept black tears. Black worms stained white teeth, skin turned sallow as corpse. To her he shambled, and stood as an obedient dog. Away she stepped to the door. In a sweet tone she sung, gentle and mild. The medicine woman stopped, dark eyes returned to Cassidy, "One day, I hope, you'll find another love. A woman would be lucky to have such steady affection."

The bounty hunter blinked, dazed at the sudden barrage of madness and its abrupt end. Cassidy watched her disappear, "Good-bye little fellow." To this Nastas gave a laugh, even though drowsy.

Out in the night, he saw Kai was already gone. Alone, except for his horse, Cassidy gazed out on the ruin of the Loyal Lady. Corpses of the gunmen were already rotted to bones stained by the dark, viscus fluid. Never would he forget the smell, which threatened to undo the guts. Night, which had gone mad, shadows insane, was quiet again, still. Like waking from a dying man's dream, he could only blink in shock, now adrenaline spent.

Head down, he walked. Images assailed the mind. Back to him returned the questions. In the dark and unsteady light made fiends of shadows, but was the silhouette a beast and woman, or just a play of light? Madness of war had afflicted some of his fellows. He prayed sanity still held. Eyes, blue as dawn over the desert, sought beyond the reach of man's reason. All was within one's logic, he assured himself, yet as he moved out of the gates, a nagging voice whispered. These lands unknown delivered to him strange truths, and there were more. Idea bit into his mind, left wounds of thought.

Vernon Cooley rode up to him with the men spared by Kai. Cassidy glanced up, but could not hold his gaze. The old rancher looked out on the ruin, "I warned them to leave her be. They brought down this judgment on themselves. She got all my men, who were ever cruel to her." He looked at the bounty hunter, "Where did the Witch go?"

"There is no such thing as Witches," Cassidy replied, though he knew nights ahead would be filled with obsession over these horrors. Vernon watched him turn away, and wondered if he had said that to him or to himself.