//------------------------------// // Chapter 14 // Story: Unshaken // by The 24th Pegasus //------------------------------// The Gang made sure to stagger their entrance into Rock Ridge so as to not attract attention. With Silver and Tumbleweed entering together and Wanderer slower on his wings than Kestrel, Kestrel was the first to arrive in town, just as the stores began to open up. A few mares moved about in plain dresses, and wagon traffic was virtually nonexistent as she alighted in front of the sheriff’s office. Once again, Kestrel found herself marveling at the size of the thing. After her run in with the Viper Gang yesterday, she started to realize why a town this small might have a sheriff’s office this big. There were certainly a lot of bandits lurking about the desert, and the Gang certainly wasn’t helping with that. Sighing, Kestrel briefly removed her hat and tried to comb her mane back some. If she wanted to get anything out of the sheriff, then she needed to look presentable, like a bounty hunter and not a wanted criminal. Even though common sense told her that there was no way she’d be recognized down here, she was still a little bit leery as she walked up the steps to the door and knocked twice. “It’s open,” came a voice from inside, and Kestrel pushed the door open. The interior of the office was well lit with large, barred windows to let in the daylight, and there were even enchanted lamps to provide an artificial light to the corners the sun couldn’t get to. Five jail cells lined one wall, and three desks were lined up on the other side. Right now, only one was in use, and Kestrel stopped and did a double take when she saw the creature sitting behind it, polishing his star with a silk cloth held in his talons. The black-feathered griffon raised an eyebrow as he saw Kestrel standing in the doorway. “What’s the matter?” he asked her, taking his hind paws off the desk and leaning forward in his seat. “Ain’t you ever seen a griffon before?” “I ain’t ever talked to one personally,” Kestrel admitted as she stepped inside. The griffon grinned, the twist of his sharp beak setting off alarms in Kestrel’s subconscious. “Then consider this your lucky day. How can I help?” Kestrel looked around but didn’t see anypony—or anygriffon—else. “You the sheriff ‘round these parts?” “That I am.” The griffon held out his hand. “Garter. Come, I don’t bite unless I need to.” Kestrel hesitated but ultimately stepped forward to shake the griffon’s hand. She could feel the sharp points of his talons poking at her skin, and she felt strangely relieved when he let go of her hoof. “I gotta wonder how a griffon ends up as the sheriff in a pony town.” “I sometimes ask myself that,” Garter said. “I was put here a few years ago likely to suit somebody’s agenda, and I did a good job cleaning the place up, so I got to stay. You would not believe how sorry a state this town was in when I came here.” “That so?” Kestrel leaned against a column, legs crossed a safe distance away from the griffon’s sharp beak and claws. “It seems plenty peaceful now. Can’t imagine what it were like then.” Kestrel tries to get the sheriff to talk more about Rock Ridge’s past troubles: Success “There used to be several gangs operating out here,” Garter said. “Four of them, at least. Some were big, some were small, but they all loved to prey on the wagons that stop by. Rock Ridge, well, she ain’t much, but she’s the halfway point between Angel City down by the coast and Reino a bit further inland. Lots of money flows from one way to the other. Miss Belle invested heavily around here to start getting a railroad built, and that meant even more money moving into the town. Plenty for the gangs to feed on. “How’d you clean them out?” Kestrel asked. “I set traps, tip offs to hauls almost too good to be true,” Garter said. His hawklike eyes seemed to sparkle with glee as he recounted the tale. “I made sure all the gangs knew about them. They started wiping each other out over a chest of gold I planted for them. Ten thousand bits’ worth is hard to get rid of, but Miss Belle was happy to make the sacrifice, and the government happier to help me pull it off, if it meant that we could clean this place up some.” “I’m assumin’ it worked, then.” “Just about. We only have one gang left to deal with, a bunch of lowlifes by the name of the Viper Gang.” Garter’s eyes narrowed. “There’s twenty, thirty, maybe forty of them holed up a bit to the south. They absorbed the remnants of the other gangs from all the fighting. I don’t have enough deputies to go and take them out, so I’m back to just trying to contain them and get the gold back. They attacked a wagon just yesterday that was moving some surplus cash from one of Miss Belle’s locations to another, cleaned the thing out. But it’s better than it has been.” Kestrel silently thanked Celestia that the Vipers took the fall for that, and that Garter didn’t suspect anything. “Well, I hope you can get that under control. If I run into any Vipers, I’ll make sure to send ‘em straight to Tartarus.” The sheriff suddenly narrowed his eyes at Kestrel, and the mare fidgeted as she felt him scrutinizing her. The sheriff assesses whether he can trust Kestrel: Yes After what felt like forever, however, he relaxed and smiled. “You look like you’re capable with a gun. Bounty hunter?” “I’ve been known to do a few here and there,” Kestrel said with a shrug. “Then I’ll tell you what. You kill a Viper, you bring me proof and I’ll pay you fifty bits as a thank you. Bring me one alive, and I’ll double it. Oh, would I love to get my claws on one alive.” Garter cracked his knuckles and let his talons flex in the air. “I’ll see what I can do,” Kestrel said. Garter nodded, though he dismissively waved the topic away with his hand. “At any rate, I didn’t mean to bother you with history lessons. Is there something I can help you with?” “Well, I was lookin’ for work, bounties or somethin’, but it seems you gave me some anyway.” Garter pointed to a bulletin board on the far wall. “I post bounties on there from time to time. There’s one up for grabs right now, actually. Seventy-five bits to bring a stallion called Bloody Hatchet in, dead or alive. Take a look if it interests you.” “I just might.” Kestrel stood up and tipped her hat toward the griffon. “Pleasure talkin’ with you, Garter.” “And you as well, though I never caught your name.” “Raptor,” Kestrel said, falling back on her oft-used false name. Even though she knew nobody around her would recognize her real name, it was better to not leave a trail the Pinks could follow later. “Well, Raptor, take care. If you need anything more, I’ll be here. Oh, and, uh, welcome to Rock Ridge.” Kestrel nodded one last time at him and set for the door, stopping just long enough to snatch the bounty off the wall. Stepping out into the sun, Kestrel rolled her shoulders and wondered just what else she would do in the four hours until lunch. 1.     Investigate the post office. Might learn more at the post office. Bounties are nice, honest work, but they ain’t likely to pay nearly as much as robbin’ rich folks blind. All I gotta do is find some of them rich folks. 2.     Wander the streets. Who knows what I’ll find just wanderin’ around town until lunch? 3.     Go to the saloon early. Wanderer’s there havin’ all sorts of fun without me, might as well pay him a visit and wait for Tumbleweed and Silvie to finish their business. 4.     Chase the bounty. Looks like this Hatchet feller ain’t too far from Rock Ridge. I should have enough time to fly out there, haul him back, and cash in before lunch. (Confidence Required: 35 Votes)