A/N: Inspired by watching the ridiculous Jonah Hex.

Enjoy, reviews are love, blah blah blah.

Kurt looked out the window of the train at the fields flying past. Miles after miles of long grass blowing gently in the wind. He was going to visit his parents after a year away at school in New York, and it was a long train ride from Manhattan to Lima, Ohio. He and his best friend Mercedes were settled in for the ride, sipping coffee in a first class train car. He let the fields blur as he stared out the window, thinking dreamily of Carole's cooking and his dad's bear hugs and Finn's innocent humor. Oh, wait. Sheriff Finn nowadays, wasn't it?

He was snapped out of his reverie by Mercedes.

"Boy. Look at that." He followed the finger she was pointing out the window to see about twenty figures, riding on horses alongside the train. "What're they doin'?"

Kurt looked closer. There was a flag tied to one of the horses necks...a navy blue flag with only a yellow bird on it.

Damn.

"It's the Warblers," Kurt whispered, his stomach dropping in fear.

"What?"

"The Warblers," Kurt said more loudly. He stood up. "The Warblers are coming!" There was a collective gasp, the other passengers looking about in fear. Then, a brief pause, a few seconds of calm before everything went to hell.

The women began to scream, and fathers grabbed for their guns. Babies began to cry. The conductors tried desperately to calm everyone down, but nothing was working. They only added to the noise. Kurt grabbed Mercedes's hand and dove under a table. She stared at him, wide-eyed, as the chaos continued around them.

"Why are they here? Why now?" she moaned softly.

"We must have something they want," Kurt said, closing his eyes tightly in fear.

The Warblers were a gang, ruffians with a reputation of robbing trains and causing general chaos. They never killed and they never took prisoners, but for some reason, they carried with them an aura of complete terror. Everyone knew them, and everyone feared them.

There was a loud, sudden crack as the window above them shattered. Glass rained down over their hiding place and they covered their eyes, hearing a clunk when a pair of boots landed on the ground in front of them.

"Everybody get quiet," a smooth voice said. It was a calm, soothing voice, and Kurt could hear the man smiling when he said, "All right. Y'all stay calm and we'll make this easy for everybody." Kurt craned his neck, trying to get a better look at the owner of the voice. All he saw were a pair of worn boots and some very tight jeans.

Skin tight.

"First order of business," the voice said lazily, a grin in his voice. He was having fun with this. "Laaaaaadies. Empty those little purses of yours. Pass 'em over to my friend here, if you will." Kurt peeked his head out, his eye finding the man the first man had been talking about; a tan, Asian man with perfect black hair that Kurt couldn't help admiring, even in the present situation. Kurt tried to catch a glimpse of the man that appeared to be running the show, but he couldn't without revealing himself to the thieves. He withdrew his head and grabbed Mercedes's hand in his own, exchanging a look of worry with her. As long as they didn't search the train, they'd be fine.

There was a series of tinkling noises and even a few quiet sobs as the women poured their purses into the large bag the Asian boy was holding.

"All right now. Second order of business..." he paused, snatching a half-full glass of something on a table and draining it. "...we're lookin' fer somethin'. Somethin'...valuable." He waited, looking around the silent room. "Do any of you know what it is I'm talkin' about?"

Silence. The man sighed.

"Well, I'll just tell you. There's a chest. A veeeeeery...special chest. And we know it's somewhere around here. Anybody wanna tell us where it is?"

Again, silence. Kurt could practically hear him shrugging nonchalantly. "I guess we'll just have to look for it, then, won't we, boys?" His voice rose on "look for it" and, as if on cue, the Warblers spread out, chattering amongst themselves. Kurt stifled a gasp. They were going to search the train. Damn his luck. He looked around frantically for a way out, and none appeared to him.

"Mercedes," he hissed. "Hide your purse if you want to keep it." She bit her lip, thinking for just a second before she shoved the small coin purse down the front of her dress.

The search only lasted for a few minutes before there was a cry. "We've got it!"

Two men leaped through the door, carrying a chest between them. It was covered in a sheet. Kurt peeked out in time to see a dark-haired figure rip the sheet off. Before he could wonder who the figure was, his eyes went to the chest. It was covered in jewels, a giant gold lock attached to the front of it. Just above the lock, in curling embossed black letters, there was one word. A name.

Jones.

Kurt turned to his friend. Mercedes Jones. Could it be? No...Jones was a common name, wasn't it? It couldn't be. But when he turned to look at her, she was staring at the chest with obvious horror in her eyes, her bottom lip clutched between her teeth. Her knuckles were white where they gripped fistfuls of her dress.

"Mercedes?" Kurt inquired quietly. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

Her eyes flicked to him briefly, then back to the chest. She said nothing. The dark-haired man turned around, and Kurt caught a glimpse of his face. The first thing he noticed was eyes. Bright, green-gray-brown hazel eyes, framed by thick eyebrows. His curly hair fell wildly around his face and neck under his cowboy hat, a tiny half-smile upon his perfect, full lips. He wore a plaid shirt and a vest, the top few buttons unbuttoned to reveal the tiniest bit of dark chest hair. His shirt was tucked into his tight jeans.

Kurt was not into bad boys and he certainly wasn't into criminals, but damn.

Mercedes. Think about Mercedes. "Hey," he said, poking his friend, "I said, is there something you need to tell me?"

"Not now, Kurt," she hissed in an uncharacteristic show of hostility. He stared at her, surprised and offended.

The one with the pretty eyes was examining the lock. A few minutes passed. He turned, addressing the room again.

"There's a key. Time's running out before we leave you lovely ladies and gents, so I'd appreciate it if you would surrender the key quietly."

Kurt looked at Mercedes, his eyes wide. She glanced down at where her purse was hidden. Was the key inside?

"Blaine," hissed the Asian boy. "We need to go. Now." The one named Blaine swept his eyes over the room. His hazel eyes turned dark, and a shadow fell over his face.

"Time's almost up," he murmured in almost a singsong voice. Then, in one swift movement, he pulled a pistol from his belt and pointed it at the air, causing several people to scream. "And I don't think any of you wanna know what happens when it completely runs out."

"Mercedes," Kurt whispered frantically. "What do we do?"

"I dunno. I dunno," she moaned, her eyes wild.

"What's in that chest, Mercedes?"

"I don't know! I was just...I was just taking it to my parents-I never unlocked it...I never...I wasn't allowed near it. They had other people dealing with the chest...I'd never actually seen it. I was just supposed to carry the key!"

Kurt patted her arm, squeezing briefly. "It's gonna be okay."

"You have thirty seconds!" Blaine called. "I don't have all day."

Mercedes and Kurt looked at each other, hearts racing.

"WHAT DO WE DO?" Kurt repeated.

"I don't know, I don't know!" Mercedes cried softly.

"3...2...1!" Blaine yelled. "Your time is officially up." He scanned the car. He had had the boys gather everyone in here at the beginning. There wasn't anyone missing. So why hadn't this Jones person stepped forward, whoever they were? Didn't they know how serious he was?

Apparently not.

He didn't want it to come to this, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

He swung his arm out and grabbed a little girl sitting near him. She screamed, an absolutely heart-shattering scream. He pretended not to waver and lifted her to his chest, pressing the cold barrel of the pistol into the side of her other boys stared at him in shock.

"I SAID, YOUR TIME IS UP!" Blaine screamed, his voice not even shaking. His hands trembled a little, and he was very careful not to press the trigger too hard. One slip, and the adorable little girl in his arms...

"Mercedes!" Kurt cried at the same time the little girl's mother screamed. Then he smacked his hands over his mouth. Had they heard him?

As if answering his question, a hand ripped up the edge of the tablecloth. A freckled face grinned at them.

"Hello, ladies," he said. Kurt glared fiercely at him when the boy tried to grab his arm.

"Don't touch me," he snarled, crawling out from under the table in as dignified a way as possible. Mercedes followed, unwillingly.

"Which one of you is Jones?" Blaine asked. Kurt's eyes were fixed on the little girl sobbing softly in his arms. He couldn't believe he thought of this man as attractive. Even for a second. This man was sick. Disgusting. Kurt glanced at Mercedes. She closed her eyes, then stuck her chest out in a perfect "diva" pose.

"Me," she said confidently, stepping forward. Blaine couldn't help feeling a little disappointed. The boy next to her was gorgeous, and even in the current situation he couldn't help noticing the graceful way he stood and moved. He was just beautiful.

"Give me the key," Blaine demanded quietly. Mercedes reached into her dress and started to retrieve her purse when one of the boys yelled,

"Blaine, we need to go, now!"

"Hurry up!" Blaine yelled. Mercedes only went slower. Blaine let out a noise that sounded like a growl and snarled desperately. "Just take her with us."

"But...we don't take prisoners!"

"DO IT!"

Kurt screamed, latching onto Mercedes's arm.

"What the hell?" cried the boy who was trying to drag Mercedes out the window of the train and onto one of the horses outside. Half the boys were riding alongside the train, steering the horses without riders. One by one, the other boys leaped out the window, landing smoothly onto the horses-even the ones carrying the chest. Blaine dropped the little girl and threw his arms around Kurt's waist, dragging him off Mercedes. The boy holding her leaped out the window, nearly falling off his horse. Blaine let Kurt go and tried to run, but Kurt jumped onto his back.

"GET OFF!" Blaine screamed.

"NEVER!"

"FINE," Blaine snarled, "Then you'll just have to come along." He flew out the window, landing on a horse like Kurt weighed nothing. Kurt screamed, his arms tightening around Blaine's waist. He'd never ridden a horse. He hated horses. They were smelly and big and dammit riding this fast hurt. He looked over, just managing to make out Mercedes through the tears that had come to his eyes from the wind.

She was all right. That was all that mattered.

The mob of horses turned and Kurt caught a glimpse of the train, fading into the distance.

TO BE CONTINUED!

Probably. I don't think this is gonna be that many chapters, but you never know.

Happy Easter! :3 bunny