The problem with the big, anticipated execution was how many eyes were on the jail, most of them the Sheriff’s own doing. Their trip to intercept Samson wasn’t as simple as just gathering the deputies and going out into the night to find a den of thieves. Rickens had to send several messages to his most loyal followers, convincing them this was his decision and not a trick by Jesse.

  Then came arrangements for travel, as quiet as possible given the circumstances. Jesse herself said as little as possible. She sat back and let the Sheriff handle everything, saying merely that she would give in directions along the way. Telling him the location of the hideout in advance would just get her shot early.

  The remaining night burned away, and by the time they left with a posse big enough to raid their hideout, it was three hours before dawn. It would be a big stir when the execution didn’t happen as promised, and the Sheriff was nowhere to be found.

  All a part of the plan, of course. Jesse begrudgingly complimented her enemy for his sense of drama, then resumed shutting up and letting him handle things. It worked well enough, all the way to them rolling north out of town, towards the mountains overlooking Koda Junction.

  “Of course you were all hiding up here,” the Sheriff muttered as their group wound their way up a path. He brought a dozen deputies with them, and sat in the middle cart with his gun trained on Jesse. “Do you have any idea how many times we’ve looked up here?”

  “Yes,” she said honestly. “We were often watching you when you did. You got close a few times, but you fell for our bait and misdirection every time. Fail enough times and you stop trying. Especially since we let a bunch of rumors slip about a waterfall hideout and something in the desert to the west. I’m sure those helped.”

  Rickens grumbled, but he was in as good a mood as Jesse had ever seen him. The way up the mountain was gentle, and she assured him in a couple places that she was using the back entrance, known only to her and Samson and a few people no longer alive.

  Coming back this way one last time hit Jesse harder than she expected. The smell of the trees and honeysuckle were a comfort as her time wound down for good. No matter how things panned out, she wouldn’t be there to see it, and that was okay. It was a trade-off for setting things right and going out with a bang. Every bump and jostle pierced through Jesse’s exhaustion, keeping her awake and alert for what was next to come.

  The mountain grew steeper, the trees thicker, and Koda Junction stretched out behind them, lightening up in the pre-dawn stretch where the sun lingered before it rose for the day. She directed them to the left of a fallen tree, where the path narrowed until their horses grew nervous.

  “This is the way, seriously,” said Jesse at the Sheriff’s accusing, baleful stare. “Tell your guys in the front to keep it down. There shouldn’t be anyone on watch back here, but I can’t guarantee it.”

  “If this turns out to be too much trouble…” Rickens said, thumbing the hammer of his gun.

  Jesse shrugged under the weight of a dozen ropes and chains. She was so heavily trussed up that there was no cutting herself free, or running away while bound. “If it’s too much trouble and you want to be done with it, just set the mountain on fire and it’ll take care of it. I doubt there’s anyone left loyal to me, and it’d get Samson.”

  “Hrm.” Sheriff Rickens grunted, but didn’t seem to seriously consider it. Not yet, at least.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  The sky brightened, and the first few rays of sunlight danced along the trees and mountaintop. Jesse drank it in, smiling. It wouldn’t be much further now.

  “One more left,” she said, gesturing with her head. “That’ll bring us to a clearing that’s on the other side of a rocky passage to the hideout. We get in there, and you’ll be able to get Samson, and whoever else chose to stick with him.”

  The Sheriff grunted again, and looked around. He was no fool, he had to suspect something at this point. He nodded, and pointed the gun at her once more. “Then I suppose we have no more use for you, do we?”

  Jesse shrugged as best as she could. The sun was on her skin, the cool spring morning chilled her, and she was ready to die, if she had to. “Sure, if you want to warn them. You fire shots now, they’ll slip out the other way. You want to wait until you’re in the hideout proper. Samson will use others as guards, and will be undefended if he’s not expecting anything.”

  It looked like he very badly wanted to just end her, but he nodded for the lead deputy in their party to continue on. Soon they passed two large trees flanking a path inward. The clearing was as Jesse remembered, complete with the great white sycamore she and Samson would sit against and drink. The birthplace of their last plan, now ready to be executed.

  “Sheriff, I see it,” Deputy Davidson turned. “There’s a crack in the rocks big enough to scrape by. I think I’m going to go through first, and if I can get a clear shot at -- “

  As he spoke, their posse finished entering the clearing. Jesse looked straight up and let out a sharp whistle.

  Two things happened at that time. The first was that everyone pointed their guns at her. It was to be expected, she supposed, and she didn’t try to hide the victorious grin. The second was the exploding TNT. The two trees they’d passed to enter the clearing came down with a thunderous crash. The nearest rider was thrown from his horse, and everyone began shouting.

  Jesse threw herself sideways out of the cart just in time for the shooting to start. The Sheriff shot and missed as she tumbled over the side and away from him. Bullets whizzed from all directions, tearing into the deputies as her unseen friends gave it all they had. One final, glorious gambit.

  The Sheriff crashed to the ground after her. He was breathing heavily, and his eyes held rage and disbelief. He grabbed Jesse and rolled so she shielded his body, and the cart did the rest.

  “You!” He snarled. “You treacherous bitch. You set me up!” Spittle flew as he raged.

  “Yes,” said the outlaw Jesse Jane, full of pride and triumph. “You’re going to die here, Sheriff. I should’ve taken you out months ago when our gang was still strong, but hey. I’m glad I got to fix my mistakes before the end.”

  He thrust his gun beneath her chin, directly against her throat, while he looked around wildly. Things weren’t going well for his deputies. Only four still stood, and one of them, the kid Billy, threw his weapon to the ground and then himself. No shots came after him, but the man nearest him collapsed from a bullet to the chest.

  “I’ll kill you for this,” Rickens said, a tremble in his voice. “You think you won? You didn’t win! I’m still going to kill you, even if I die!”

  “Yes,” she said again. “But the difference is, I’m willing to die for my cause. Samson was right, all I needed was a blaze of glory. Got any last words, Sheriff?” She laughed, even with the barrel of his gun pressed against her.

  The pull of his trigger cut her laughter off, but it echoed in his head. The laugh continued, even when her last breath hitched in her chest, leaving Sheriff Rickens alone on the ground, and surrounded by the emerging Scales gang.

  Samson came forward, a big shotgun pointed Rickens’ way. The big man’s face twisted in grief, but determination kept him strong and steady. “You killed her.” His deep voice was quiet, full of sorrow.

  “I did,” he stammered. “She didn’t win. You hear me? None of you did. This is a draw at best, and I -- “

  “Make sure his face is undamaged,” said Samson. “They’ll need it to identify him. The rest? Do what you wish.”

  This was it. Sheriff Alan Rickens lifted his gun, and a half dozen different people filled him with lead. The last thing he saw, bleeding out on the ground, was Jesse Jane’s face, still laughing at him, even in death.