The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Boxed Set One (Books 1-3): Feared By Hell, Rejected By Heaven, Eye For An Eye (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Boxed Sets)

by Michael Anderle

  “But he still got his head chopped off by a bounty hunter.”

  “I didn’t say he wasn’t a moron, just not a total moron.”

  Shay picked up her beer to take a sip. “And he still got enough attention to have a huge bounty on his head. You would have thought he would have kept a lower profile, even out in the countryside.”

  “That kind of worked to his advantage. From what the authorities told me, locals didn’t fuck with him as long as he stayed in his little canyon, and no one came after him. None of the bounty hunters who went after him came back. After he took out a village the government tried to bomb him out, but when they sent in a small squad to confirm his death, those soldiers died, too. After that point, even the government decided to leave him alone.” Brownstone shrugged. “They just massively increased the bounty and hoped someone like me would show up and take his ass out.”

  There was an uneasy expression on the bounty hunter’s face. Shay wouldn’t call it fear, but it was discomfort at the least. The man had butchered two housefuls of Harriken without showing discomfort.

  It was not a good look on him.

  Shay couldn’t help but wonder if dealing with the zombies had freaked Brownstone out more than he was willing to admit, but since they’d both completed their missions, she saw no reason to bring down the mood by probing at a potential sore spot. She might be able to kick serious ass, but she was far from fearless herself.

  “Hey, you hungry?” she said. “These tacos are damn good. Want some?”

  The bounty hunter held up five fingers. “Cinco.”

  Shay flagged down a waitress and put in the order. Once the other woman was gone she couldn’t help but stare at the bounty hunter, again thinking how he didn’t seem like his normal arrogant self.

  “What?” The discomfort on Brownstone’s face turned to irritation. “Why are you looking at me like that? Got something on my face?”

  “Oh, nothing. Just thinking about the bounty money,” Shay lied. “I mean, the Mexican government doesn’t have enough money for regular law enforcement and military shit, so I was wondering how they can afford big-ass bounties.”

  Brownstone shrugged. “They don’t pay them, mostly.”

  Shay blinked. “Huh? Then why does anyone bother to go after bounties here?”

  “It’s not that the bounty hunters don’t get paid. It’s more who does the payment.” He gestured toward the door. “Resort areas in particular have tons of bounties, because the businesses and hotels all pay into a fund. I think they all understand that if the crime situation gets out of control and starts affecting tourists they’ll be in trouble.”

  “So zombie necromancers are fine until they threaten Spring Breakers?” Shay rolled her eyes. “And people say I’m ruthless.”

  Brownstone nodded. “Yeah, imagine if Sombra had bought a fucking clue and kept quiet about converting people. He could have started his own little Mexican zombie apocalypse before anyone knew what was going on. When I fought the guy he had hundreds of zombies, and those fuckers don’t go down without removing the entire head. Cops and Federales would have had a hard time dealing with them.”

  “Look, at you, saving the world…or at least Baja California Sur.” Shay grinned.

  The bounty hunter had opened his mouth to say something else when the waitress appeared with his tacos. She placed his plate down in front of him and offered him a polite nod before leaving.

  Shay watched Brownstone expectantly as he lifted a taco to his mouth and took a huge bite. His mouth worked for a moment before he swallowed.

  “So, what do you think?”

  Brownstone smiled. “These are fucking fantastic.”

  20

  Later that evening, James knocked on the door to Shay’s hotel room. It took a surprisingly long time for her to answer.

  He frowned, wondering if she was in trouble. He doubted a fight could break out across the hall without him hearing anything, but he couldn’t be sure.

  James pounded on the door again. “Shay, you in there?”

  The lock clicked in the door, and the bounty hunter stepped back. He didn’t want to go down easily if an enemy lurked on the other side.

  The open door revealed Shay, not an attacker. Her dark wet hair clung to her face and neck, and she wore nothing but a soft white cotton robe.

  “Hey, Brownstone,” she murmured, her voice low. “Sorry about the wait. I was just taking a shower. You know how it is when you get in there and there’s all that steam and water flowing over your body. It just gets you all relaxed. Makes your mind wander.”

  “Yeah, I understand how showers work.” He shrugged, confused by where she was going with any of this. “I mostly think about barbecue in the shower.”

  “Of course you do.” Shay rolled her eyes. She leaned against the doorjamb, tilting her head. Her leg moved forward, flashing a little skin. “Wanna come in for a bit?”

  “Nope,” he stated flatly.

  “Huh?” A slight frown appeared on Shay’s face.

  “Sorry. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t need me. I was planning to buy a ticket and head back to LA. From what you said a little while ago, you’re good to go without me.”

  Something James couldn’t interpret played in Shay’s eyes, but he decided it’d be best to leave it alone. Even though he knew about the woman’s dark past, he still couldn’t claim he understood her. Sometimes she could be totally ruthless, and sometimes she worried like a soccer mom.

  She was complicated, and that unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.

  “You’re leaving so soon?” Shay sounded almost disappointed.

  “No reason for me to stay,” James told her. “I got the bounty, and you got the artifact. I’d rather sleep in my own bed, and we have good tacos in LA. Not like we have a shortage of good Mexican cooks there.”

  “Oh, well…”

  “Problem?”

  She sighed and shook her head. “Nah, don’t worry about it.” She smiled. “I think I’m gonna stick around for a day or two. The Professor mentioned some other work, but we’re not gonna go over the final details until I come back to LA, so I think I can manage a couple days off.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Nice working with you, Brownstone.” Shay laughed. “I don’t know if we can consider this job bloodier or less bloody than last time.”

  “Last time I killed three guys. This time I only killed one. Those zombies were already dead.”

  “Fair point.” She blew some wet hair out of her face. “I guess I’ll see you back in LA then.”

  James nodded. “See you.” He turned to leave.

  “Brownstone, just one thing.”

  He turned back around. “What?”

  “Burn that fucking coat when you get back to LA. I don’t care how useful it is for concealing shit. It’s a crime against fashion, and I can’t in good conscience continue to let you wear something like that.”

  James chuckled. Shay was developing quite the mother complex.

  It was too damn late when James found himself standing in front of his house. He didn’t care if the flight was short. Something about being that high up for more than a few minutes always left him feeling off and tired. Maybe it had something to do with the air recirculation.

  He didn’t know.

  Yeah, next fucker I’m after will probably hide in an airplane bathroom. It would be just my luck. The Prince of Planes, or whatever shit.

  “Fucking cowards,” he muttered. “Stay on the damn ground.”

  James opened the door and stepped inside. It’d only been a couple of days, but it felt like it had been weeks.

  Not that there was anything there waiting for him. Leeroy was dead, and Alison was gone.

  The bounty hunter pulled out his phone and prepared to call her before sighing and slipping it back into his pocket.

  It was late in Los Angeles, so it was super-damn late in Virginia. He scrubbed a hand over his face. He’d taken down a level-f
our and a level-five bounty in less than a week. It wasn’t like he needed to go rushing off to do anything else.

  Maybe Shay had the right idea. He’d take it easy for the next couple of days. Everything would look better after a shower and good night’s rest.

  “I swear by the cumin,” said Bill, the host of the Modern Super BBQ podcast. “If there’s no cumin involved, I might as well go home.” He went on to extol the virtues of cumin in barbecue sauce.

  James dusted the end table in the living room with a small rag. He didn’t quite get how everything had gotten so dusty after him being gone for only a couple of days, but at least it gave him something easy to do.

  There was a loud knock on his door.

  James paused the podcast with a tap on his phone. He slowly approached the door and looked through the peephole. No way in hell he’d ever open a door without checking, especially after everything that had happened recently.

  Probably some new douchebag like Emperor Freeze or Caliente, Master of Flame, here to earn some rep points by taking him on.

  A skinny young black guy in torn jeans, a leather jacket, and a tight t-shirt stood on the other side with his hands in his pockets. A single bandana on his arm communicated his gang affiliation to people in the know. He looked more bored than anything.

  James opened the door. “Hey, Trey.”

  “Motherfucking Mr. Brownstone!” Trey grinned and stuck out his hand. “It’s been a while, motherfucker.”

  The bounty hunter gave the man’s hand a firm shake. “I’m not buying any drugs.”

  The gang leader laughed and waved. “Nah, man. I know you ain’t into that shit.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I got some other shit to share with you, but I’d rather do it inside, you know?”

  James motioned him inside, and the younger man entered.

  Trey stepped forward, glancing around. His eyes narrowed and he shook his head. “It’s like… I don’t know, man. It’s like getting to walk into the motherfucking Batcave. You got some bitch-ass butler hanging out here?”

  James snorted. “Not last time I checked.”

  A confused look settled over Trey’s face. “It’s… Well, I guess it ain’t no Batcave.”

  The bounty hunter shrugged. “I’m not a billionaire.”

  Trey held up a hand. “Nah, man. I ain’t trying to be disrespectful. It’s just, you’re big shit…the Granite Ghost. This is all low-down; no tech dope. I expected this place to be all super-teched up, and not so fucking clean.” He grinned. “I get it. You got some sweet-ass maid action coming in?”

  “Nope. I just like a clean house.” He leveled a stare at the other man. “Are you doing a tour of the houses in the neighborhood, Trey?”

  “Nah, man, I just… Look, you know what I like about you, Mr. Brownstone?”

  James rubbed his chin, looking Trey over. “That I don’t beat your ass?”

  Trey laughed and slapped a hand on his thigh. “Yeah, that’s the shit, too. Yeah, I appreciate that, but it’s something different, you know? You’re a man who understands respect.”

  James eyed the gang member. “Respect?”

  “Yeah. If someone shows you proper respect, you show ‘em proper respect back. I ain’t no fucking dumbass. I know you could lay out every gang in this area and probably still have time to come home and whack off to some porn. But you leave my boys alone, and I appreciate that.”

  James offered the other man a quick nod. That description wasn’t far from the truth, but he didn’t want to tell Trey that it wouldn’t be worth his time to bother.

  Still, there was also more to it. Men like Trey kept things under control. Nature abhorred a vacuum, and a city abhorred a criminal vacuum even more. As long as the low-level criminals stayed under control and mostly messed with each other, James figured they were providing a service of sorts to the local neighborhood.

  “What’s this about?” James asked.

  Trey cleared his throat. “Like I said, it’s about showing respect. You show us respect, and we show you respect. I think we both want the same shit in the end.”

  “I’m a bounty hunter, not a gangbanger. I don’t care about territory.”

  “Nah, man. Yeah, I get that shit, but you care about the neighborhood.” Trey nodded. “We do too. You do good shit, you know. Like I heard you took down that bitch-ass King Pyro motherfucker.”

  James shrugged. “He was a bounty. He was in town.”

  “I heard that bitch killed some family.” Trey sneered. “If one of my boys killed some family in a robbery, I’d get my other boys together and beat their ass to death. Just because we’re criminals ain’t mean we’re animals.” He leaned forward. “I heard that bitch also threatened your dog.” His eyebrows went up.

  “Not exactly,” James replied, “but close enough.”

  “That was a dumbass move.” Trey leaned against a wall and crossed his arms. “Also you should know that the word on the street is, the Harriken been asking around about you the last couple of days.”

  James snorted. “They’ll need a recruitment drive before they come after me again.”

  The gang leader laughed. “Damn, motherfucker. That’s cold.”

  “So, have they been around here?”

  Trey shrugged. “Fuck if I know. We ain’t been in watch mode. Ain’t too much of a neighborhood watch plan around here.” He rubbed his neck. “Look, that Harriken shit got a lot of us talking. We don’t need outside bitches who don’t know when to stop coming in and messing up our hood.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “Maybe you could help with that shit, Brownstone. I don’t just mean the bounty shit. If people know the Granite Ghost will fuck them up if they fuck with the neighborhood, it’ll keep ‘em in line; maybe keep them out.”

  James grunted. “So you’re saying you want me to make sure that only local criminals have control?”

  Trey shrugged. “I’m saying that we don’t need bitch-ass dog killers and people going after little girls. I’m saying in the end, motherfucker, we all just want to this be an okay place to live. Not just me and my boys, but a lot of normal working bitches in this neighborhood.”

  “You deal drugs and pimp women. Don’t you think that hurts people in the neighborhood?”

  Trey snorted. “We ain’t give drugs to no one who can’t handle them, and there’s none of that bullshit slapping around girls. We give shit to people who want it, and only fuck with people who fuck with us.” He waved a hand. “That shit don’t matter anyway, because this ain’t about my gang, Mr. Brownstone. Like I said, it’s about this community. This world is fucked-up, man. You know it, and that’s why you do what you do. And all any of us around here trying to do is protect ourselves.” He looked down. “It ain’t like before this Oriceran crap. You never know what fucking shit’s gonna happen now.”

  James stared at the younger man, not saying anything for a long while. If he’d learned one thing in the last few weeks, it was that he couldn’t take on the world alone. Hell, he wasn’t sure he even wanted to anymore.

  Trey and people like him might be criminals, but at least they gave a small damn about other people around them. That was something to encourage. Ruthless groups like the Harriken shouldn’t be able to operate freely, thinking they could kidnap teenage girls and murder dogs with impunity.

  James didn’t blame the police. They were underfunded, and handcuffed by rules and the harsh reality of the new world. A few AET teams weren’t enough to make up for criminals like King Pyro and Sombra. Sometimes he wondered if it was pointless and the world was doomed.

  “Getting involved in other people’s shit complicates things,” James rumbled, breaking his silence. “And I like things simple.”

  “Shit, yeah, I get that. I’m all about simple, motherfucker. I’m not saying you need to become shadow mayor or some shit. I’m just saying if people know you’re willing to help more on occasion, it’ll help everyone. We all respect you, Brownstone.”

&nbs
p; “You all fear me.”

  “Same shit.” Trey shrugged. “You live here, too, is all I’m sayin’. Maybe we can clean this shit up a little. I got my boys on a tight leash, and I’m thinking that leash can be even tighter if I know I don’t have to constantly watch my back. And plenty of other people out there ain’t even on the wrong fucking side of the law like me. You the real shit, Mr. Brownstone. I’m just a motherfucker with some friends.”

  There was something almost desperate in the young man’s eyes.

  So much for keeping shit simple.

  “I’m willing to do something for the community,” James offered. “As long as they’re willing to do shit for me.”

  “You gotta spend money to make money. Yeah, I understand that shit.” Trey grinned.

  “This doesn’t mean I’m running around the neighborhood solving everyone’s problems. I’m a bounty hunter. I’m just saying that I know how to repay debts.” James’ gaze flicked to the empty area where Leeroy’s bowls used to sit. “And too much trouble in the neighborhood makes my life complicated.”

  “Exactly, Mr. Brownstone. Exactly.” Trey’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it out of his pocket. “Well, shit. I gotta get going. I’ll let you know if I hear anything, and I think I’ll have a few of my boys take turns just keeping an eye on your house. Don’t want any Harriken motherfuckers getting the drop on my favorite bounty hunter.”

  James’ face darkened. “It’d be a sad day for them if they did. I only stopped because I ran out of people to kill.”

  Trey chuckled. “I don’t doubt it.” He gave James a quick little salute. “Keep it badass, Mr. Brownstone. Keep it badass.” He headed for the door.

  James watched the gang leader as he left his house. Alison, Shay, and now the people of his neighborhood. The Professor. Zoe. His life was growing more complicated each week.