A stream of them escape through the window, but one spreads out on the back of the passenger’s seat like a wanted poster. Steel glints in Leviathan’s hand as he swings his arm around and impales the upholstery, stabbing the Tailor’s effigy through one arrogant eye. Another scream explodes from his chest as he pulls the knife free to stab again and again and again. His arm pistons back and forth, hacking both the drawing and his automobile.

The Duesy escapes the warehouses and emerges onto a wide rail yard. It hops up onto a set of tracks and heads straight for an oncoming locomotive. The brakes come on like banshees and spit fire in the train’s wake. Leviathan compresses his shocks and leans off one side of the track, but his finger lingers over the release. He stares at his own, approaching end like a man lingering over his last meal.

Then, his finger flicks the switch and the Duesy lauches into a barrel roll, but just a moment too late. It clips the passing engine and twists into a gyroscopic spin. The cabbie’s world flashes around him in broken bits of blue sky, gray gravel, and the gleaming sides of passing train cars.

When the car hits the ground, it’s with all four wheels. The Duesy whirls to a dusty stop at the edge of the rail yard. Its driver hunches over the dash, grinding his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut. Tears well up from deep within and march slowly down his face.

~

Leviathan gazes up at the moon as it hangs high over the city. He’s parked in the alley behind a long row of brownstones. The Tailor emerges from the window of the one nearest and drops two stories onto pavement. He lands in a forward roll that brings him to his feet with his hand on the Duesy’s doorknob.

“Mr. Daniels decided to come home early,” he tells his driver. “Our friend is keeping him and his wife company whilst we bring the car around.”

Gunshots pop-pop-pop above them. “He’s killing him!” Leviathan turns in his seat and slings the accusation at his passenger.

“Hardly. I’m sure he’ll leave the drunkard more than well enough to sign a cheque.”

Leviathan turns back around like a key in a rusty lock. “I can’t be a part of this. I need to end it.” He hits the gas and tears down the alley. The Tailor calmly restores his hat to head and stifles a yawn. The car clears the alley and crosses street in a blink, headed straight for a telephone pole on the opposite side, but the brakes come on at the last second. Leviathan lurches to a sliding, sideways stop that puts the telephone pole just inches from the Tailor’s face.

He spares it a disinterested glance through the window before saying, “Don’t waste my time, cabbie. That’s not a road you can travel. Just do your job, wait for your moment, and think real hard about whether you’ll be able to live with yourself after it comes.

“In the meantime, please bring the car around front.”

Leviathan puts four knuckles into the dashboard, but does as he’s told. When they round the corner, Jack’s already lying in his front yard, surrounded by shards of glass. The Shootist flies through the broken window and lands on the hood as they pass.

While he’s climbing inside, Leviathan tells them both, “I will be the end of you. When the time comes, I’ll kill you both.”

The cowboy laughs. “The way you drive, you’ll kill us all. Now hold it steady while I leave that fella somethin’ to remember me by.” He fires one shot out the window. It crosses half a dozen doors before plunging into Jack’s chest.