Becky Farrah/Ransam PrideAge:
A woman in these times has about as much rights as a horse. Sometimes less. So when Becky Farrah's husband got drunk, just about beat Becky half to death and she was forced to put a few new holes in that empty head of his, it was ruled as cold-blooded murder. Now, first Becky tried to defend herself from these accusations with words. She explained to Bill's friends and said he'd been mighty intoxicated, got powerful angry and mighty carried away. "Bill could hold his liqour!" they'd said, "Uppity bitch!" they'd called her, "Your fault to begin with!" they'd shouted. They were about to put Becky in her place, finish what Bill started. Well, Becky wasn't the kind of girl you could knock around. Bill found that out the hard way and right then and there, so did his friends. It came to blows and they did a number on 'ol Becky, one even cut her throat, but she was a tough woman to kill. It ended with those boys kissing the ground. Three more dead men on her doorstep. Around this time she decided it was probably a good idea to bail on the little town she'd called home. Just in the nick of time, too, because that evening the Sheriff stopped by Becky's place to question her about Bill's death. What he saw was three additional corpses, drying in the Texas heat.
Becky saw the wanted posters soon after. Fear of capture prompted her to change her name and style of dress. Having always admired female outlaws she chose the rather showy 'Ransam Pride' as her moniker (thought she misspelled 'ransom') and took up a red scarf and leather duster. Got herself a shotgun and a revolver for protection. Needed 'em, too. Hard for a woman to make it on her own out here. More 'misunderstandings' occured and they soon stopped being accidents. She turned sour and started to take delight in giving cruel men what was coming to 'em. The wanted posters for the smiling face of Becky Farrah soon disappeared, replaced with the hard scowl of Ransam Pride. Train robber. Bank robber. Man slayer. Damsel saver.
She's passing through Crimson Springs, just long enough to have a drink and then sit her tired hide in a real bed for one night before moving on. 'Ol Becky has no idea what kind of night she's in for. If the sheriff don't get her, the zombies just might. Arsenal:
Taylor's & Hammer Co. Coach Gun, Colt Single Action Army, Bowie KnifeTheme: Don't Bother NoneFace: