The setting is 1880s southwestern USA in a fairly lawless cattle town where sudden death can happen at any time. On a fairly quiet evening a lone ride... enters the small high street dressed in a long leather overcoat to counter the cool breeze carrying large tumble weeds in front of the large sorrel horse. Despite the gray Stetson hat pulled low the figure sports long golden tresses with hair blowing in the breeze. The rider halts in front of the towns only saloon, gets out of the saddle in a. Before them, was a wooden hut sitting in the middle of a clearing. It only had three or four rooms at the most, with a roof of tree branches and leaves. A column of smoke climbed out of a chimney and the aroma of roasting meat lingered in the air.The footsteps they had been tracking for the past two days led right up to the small house.Shafts of pink light flooding out of the windows confirmed it: the providence crystal was here.Unfortunately, so was a large feline.But it didn’t look like any. Later on, maybe they get more reasonable.’ Sammy nodded and swerved to miss a huge pothole. The highway was anything but smooth. ‘Funny thing,’ Conrad said, ‘these guys started as vigilantes. They were anti-crime, but push came to shove they learned trafficking in drugs was even more beneficial to them then stopping crime.’ ‘Sounds like if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em,’ Sammy laughed, then lit a cigarette. ‘Been a lot of killing in these parts. Don’t shoot your mouth off. Follow my lead. All we. The text from Zara coming in just moments before pulling into the lot.I pulled into the sketchy looking place, driving past the office and into the circle of cheap-looking, small, connected units of this motel of adult meetings and activities. I sighed and had no one to blame for the moral decay of Black Pine. Seeing room 2 to my left, Amanda instructed me to park at the far end of the lot. This would mean we would walk across the lot, mingling with the strangers lurking the motel. I meekly.