The finest line is the one I walk


Madison was a dark dream, in her cadillac, down the wet midnight road. The wheel swerved and she angled a corner sharply, narrowing off down a strip. Her eyes were heavy lidded. A cigarette bobbed on her lower lip. She passed posters tattered with the downpour advertising a show. The Nameless One with his knives aimed at Wanda. Further along were the faded WANTED posters of herself which still littered West End. She scowled.


Since Lofton she had been a rager. Wild. She walked a dangerous edge. But it was all done now. Done and dusted. Worn off. Her voice rusted after too many shouts, too much crying, too much...


She hit the breaks and got out, slamming the door behind her. Esther the skull shivered on the back dashboard. She sauntered for the two bit hotel with its stucco walls and battered door. She stepped into the unlit hallway and walked down it with eyes that saw all too well, further and deeper than anyone ought. But she was dead. So what did it hurt? Nothing. On she went and up the back stairwell, boots sounding out against the dirty concrete. Spiral, around and around until she reached the cream door to her room. Her shadow slithered along beside her, lean and lazy. She fiddled with the lock and stepped inside.


It seemed Arts couldn't be angry at Madison, not when she owed her. She had afterall helped the skeleton bitch when half her face had been rotting away with acid. She had been the one to scare the priest off, send him off with a flying punch. But still, Arts was warranted in her unease, as Magenta was in feeling burned. Now there was Lassie to contend with. Some siren psycho. But Madison didn't have any grunt in her anymore. She didn't have room for grudges. She just didn't care. If the cards were turned and she was called to do what she did best, then she would walk that line. Raise that gun. Fire. And if guns wouldn't work she would go at it tooth and nail. And if she had to, absolutely had to, then she would use what she had been given by the Dear Departed. She would dance macabre.


The night outside was still, as the hour proclaimed. Carpet softened her steps, stole their leather squeak. She leant against the sill, brushed aside the curtain, sighed.

"You are more than a little trouble."
"Oh you love it."
"I wouldn't be here otherwise."


Memories stirred like leaves in a gust. She whispered his name like a frayed prayer and hoped he would come around soon. She needed his brand of affection. She needed some release.

Word spread like wildfire. Raced and tore through her head and stomach like a poison. Lassie was dead. Where did that leave a gun totin' wanderer, The Specialist and a girl named Jane?


So a letter was written, to ask the questions, to make a bet, to finalise the wager:


Shusburg


I got the news this morning. So where does this leave us?

Cervenka is in town, she's running The Cabaret out of the bar once known as Zeal's. I'm under her protection, so is my husband, Eli. If you want to make any deal you'll have to go through her.

Send word in the next week, otherwise I'll take your silence as note that this means war.

I have no more patience left in me.


Madison

Shusburg


Thanks for your letter.

Cervenka has invited you to The Caberet. Suggested an evening in January if it will suit you. She says you'll enjoy the show. Even better if you're in the mood for some new business. I agree that there is something to be had in this all.

I've have you know your mention about my capacity for drama made me laugh. Perhaps your right. Or perhaps I have become too serious for my own good.


I will see that yourself, Magenta and Jane are under the Cab's eye. Let me know if it's your fancy to rendezvous with Sasha Cervenka and I. All blood on the house.


Madison

As the letter left her hand and filled the envelope she smirked, shook her head and crooked her brows, looking over to the window. Shame Karras had hit the road. He would have made quite an addition to this crowd. And how. Thoughts drifted there, then died away, she got to her feet, pulled on her stetson and raced her shadow to the door, out it and to the post station.

A letter sailed like a paper plane in the arms of the Bunny. Magenta the receiver. As Madison wrote the note her hand shook. She couldn't quite say why.


Magenta

Cervenka is back in town. She's an old consort of mine. My husband and I worked for her and are doing so again. We would all like your company to talk a little treat for each. Artsblood will be accompanied by her companion and should you wish to bring the same it should be fine. Please come.

Her hand shook again. She swallowed.

Love,

Madison

Bunny

When you walk the road on Tuesday make sure you go loaded. Jacob's going to smell a rat soon. Likes breathes like.

Madison

Salvador

Take this as an S.O.S. One of my boys is in trouble. Do you think you and the Monster could come by Zeal's next week? Another fire got started. It's not the circus this time.


Madison

Heil

I got your note. Andy Jacob isn't business anymore. To his kidnap I say good riddance.

If anything else pops up of interest, about Big One or The Angels of Truth, let me know.


Madison

David

I write this with the hope that life treats you easier.

If you aren't busy, how about that dinner I owe you?

I've got a job I need help on. If you can, leave a note at the Ugly Piper with Cora. She's a saloon girl there.


Madison

Angie

It's good to know you are around. You might want to keep your girlfriend in Rhy'Din while we are away.

Drop your stuff off at the Cab.

You know what to do.

Madison