A November Halo Story: Thieving from the Desert Part 7

Playin' the poker game of death.

“Duelin’ is like playin’ poker,” Nova’s grandfather's voice echoed in her mind as she stared down at the devil lady. Poker was about understanding the person sitting across from you. It had nothing to do with the cards but everything to do with playing the person. Dueling with an old west draw was nothing different, and Nova had practiced for many years to be the fastest gun in the world. She had won the Gunslinger game, sending the Boss to the devil, and rumors had it that Hell would send him back, but Nova didn’t believe in such myths.

                She was faster than anyone else in the world. She was faster than the wind.

                Her fingers tapping the hilt of her grandfather’s pistol as she narrowed her eyes at the devil woman.

Shouts were coming from behind Nova, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the assassin, and most of all, she couldn’t understand what those fools were saying.

                She watched the eyes. “You always watch the eyes,” her grandfather said, “they give everything away. Windows to the soul, even if they are soulless, never take your eyes off them.”

                It was how she won.

                The wind fled between the two women, and the men in the tower soon went still. She had a feeling they were taking bets as the sand under her boots rolled on by. The world went tranquil in those long seconds where a heartbeat echoed through all the hours. Everything stopped as death lit up his cigar on the edge of the moment. He was dressed in black, carrying this six-shooter named Scythe, checking his pocket watch, waiting for the deed to be done. The smoke rolled from his skeleton grin as the devil lady jerked her knife up and out of her hand.

                Nova dropped to her knees, looking down at the knife sticking out of her shoulder. Her eyes went wide with pure horror at the steel dug in her, and then she looked back at the devil lady reaching for the hole between her eyes. Her fingers never touched the wound as she fell backward with Nova’s gun smoking.

                Barak was beside her in a flash as the gate opened behind them. He didn’t remove the knife, looking at her grin.

                “She’s fast,” Nova said, “but I’m faster.” She leaned against him as Mr. Muninn came running up to them. She went to utter something else before she passed out. She would wake up a few days later on her father’s airship being taken care of from the knife wound and the poison on the blade. She got paid well for the job done, but for a bit, Nova and Barak were heading home for some rest.