The wind howled behind them, and Jesse didn't like it one damn bit.
Redrock was a speck in the distance now, swallowed by the rising dust. The crew rode fast, the weight of the stolen chest pressing on them like a second saddle. But it wasn't just the loot that had Jesse's nerves on edge.
It was the silence.
Banks didn't just let people rob them without a fight. Where were the riders? Where was the sheriff?
Maggie noticed too. "I don't like this, Jesse," she called over the galloping hooves.
"Yeah, well, I don't like the color of your hair, but we all live with disappointments," Jesse shot back, though his grip tightened on the reins.
"Real funny," Maggie muttered. "You think they just let us waltz out with this thing?"
Jesse didn't answer, because he knew the answer.
Something else had left that vault with them.
Clint, riding beside them, spat dust out of his mouth. "Either that banker was dumber than a headless chicken, or—"
A low, guttural whisper sliced through the wind.
Jesse.
His blood turned to ice.
He yanked on the reins, slowing his horse. "Whoa, whoa!"
The others skidded to a halt behind him, the sudden stop sending a wave of dust into the air. Jesse twisted in his saddle, eyes scanning the road they'd just ridden.
Nothing.
No riders. No sheriff. No dust trails of men chasing them.
Just… the wind.
And yet, Jesse knew what he'd heard.
Maggie turned her horse around, eyes narrowing. "What's the matter?"
Jesse exhaled slowly, rubbing his gloved hand against his chest. That damn tingling hadn't stopped since he touched the vault.
"We ain't alone," Jesse murmured.
Clint, ever the practical one, scanned the desert. "You wanna be a little more specific?"
Jesse didn't get the chance to answer.
Because that's when the shadows moved.
Not like the way clouds shift over the sun. Not like the way the wind makes the sand dance. These shadows crawled. Like something living, stretching across the ground toward them.
And worse?
They whispered.
You took what wasn't yours.
Darla drew her rifle so fast it might as well have appeared in her hands. "You hear that?"
Zeke, usually calm, looked pale. He muttered something under his breath, flipping one of his tarot cards. His hands shook.
"The Tower," he whispered. "The fall is coming."
Jesse didn't need to hear more. "Ride. Now."
The crew didn't hesitate.
They spurred their horses, dust kicking up as they tore across the desert. But Jesse felt it—the air thickening, like they were riding through unseen tar. The whispers grew, crawling under his skin like spiders.
You stole from the vault of the forgotten.
And now you will join them.
A chill ran through Jesse that had nothing to do with the night air.
Ahead, the old canyon came into view—a jagged, winding thing that led toward the hills. Jesse knew if they could make it past the ravine, they'd be safe. Whatever this was, it felt tied to Redrock. If they could just outrun it—
Darla shouted, "We got company!"
Jesse turned—and his stomach dropped.
Riders.
Not sheriff's men. Not bounty hunters.
Something else.
They rode without sound, their horses kicking up no dust. Their faces were hidden beneath wide-brimmed hats, but their eyes glowed like embers in the dark. Their bodies flickered, like they weren't entirely there.
Jesse had seen a lot of things in his time. He'd faced killers, thieves, men so mean they didn't have souls left to lose.
But he'd never seen ghosts ride.
Maggie swore. "Tell me I'm hallucinating."
"Keep riding!" Jesse ordered.
The canyon loomed ahead. If they could just make it—
A gunshot rang through the air.
Clint yelped, gripping his shoulder as his horse reared. The shot hadn't come from behind. It had come from above.
Jesse barely had time to see the figure standing on the canyon's edge before another shot blasted.
Darla returned fire without hesitation, her rifle barking into the night. The shooter didn't flinch, stepping back into the darkness as the bullet whizzed past.
Then the ground shook.
Not like thunder. Not like an earthquake.
Like the land itself was angry.
Cracks spiderwebbed through the dirt ahead, and Jesse's gut told him one thing loud and clear:
If they stayed here, they were dead.
"Go!" Jesse roared.
The crew pushed their horses, hearts pounding. The canyon mouth loomed closer—just a few more seconds and they'd be through—
Then the world tore open.
The ground split apart right beneath Jesse's horse.
He had less than a heartbeat to react before the earth gave way.
Jesse's world flipped. The night sky spun, and suddenly he wasn't on his horse anymore—he was falling.
And as he tumbled into the darkness below, the last thing he saw was the cursed chest, tumbling after him.
And it was glowing.