Killing Rhinos

by Herb Hughes

  “I will have to discuss it with my men,” Jack said.

  “You have fifteen minutes. No more.” Lowell whirled his horse around and rode back to the men massed behind him.

  Chapter 62

  Gathering his volunteers behind the first firing stand, Jack quickly explained that, in addition to the riders they could see in the field, groups of McGurke’s men were coming in on both sides. “There’s no time to build stands to defend against the riders coming through the forests,” he said. “If we’re going to fight, we’ll have to lure them in as close as possible then pull the stands down and go to the fallback lines. That’s the only way we can get all three groups in front of us. But it will be costly. We’re outnumbered five or six to one, maybe more. If we don’t get them in front of us, if they continue to outflank us, a lot of you will lose your lives. You do not have to stay.”

  Dokie poked Jack in the side, where no one could see. Jack glanced at the little man, but continued, “For the rangers who are here, we appreciate your support, but you do not have to stay and face charges of treason. Those of you who aren’t rangers, there is no shame in going home to your families.” Dokie poked Jack again. “I will not fault a single one of you for leaving. You’ve got a few minutes left to make up your mind.”

  The volunteers glanced at each other with nervous eyes. Some of them shuffled their feet in place as though they were going to walk off, but were unsure what direction to take. A few backed up a step or two. It was beginning to look as though most would walk away when Dokie climbed up on one of the firing stands and began to speak.

  “Jack won’t fault you for leaving. He’s too good a man to do that. And he’s too good a man to leave. If every one of us walks off, he would stay here and fight McGurke’s whole damned army by himself. Why? Because Jack understands the kind of world that power hungry maniacs like Jonathan McGurke would create. He’s a dictator. Most of you know enough about Earth’s history to know what dictators do. Do you want your family living like that? Do you want to live in a world where you are told what to do at every step? Where you’re beaten and tortured if you even look like you’re going to step out of line? Hell, no! I’m not going to live like that. If you want to be free, if you want your children to be free, then we’ve got to stop Jonathan McGurke here, on this field, right now! Before he steals the power to control us all, before we end up living like puppets for the rest of our lives.”

  Dokie glanced around at the men, looking each directly in the eyes. He said, “I’m not going to be pushed around!” He poked a finger at his chest and continued, “I’m brave enough to stand up to Jonathan McGurke, and I’m going to. I’ll stay here beside Jack Wheat and fight till the damned trigger on this rifle melts down.” Dokie held his rifle high.

  A few of the men cheered, and a few clapped. Demetrius stepped forward and turned to address them. As the cheers died away, he said, “The only treason I see would be if we turned around and walked away from Jack Wheat. Borderton will stay and fight.”

  A man in the back shouted, “Here they come!”

  Everyone turned to look. Had it been fifteen minutes? No. It couldn’t have been. Not even close. But they were charging at full speed. Lowell was not interested in a peaceful settlement. He was holding his rifle high in the air as he led the charge. Over two hundred men were spread wide across the field behind him, all riding at full speed, repeating rifles in their hands, ready to be fired again and again. It was a formidable line.

  “To your stands,” Jack shouted. He could not see the attackers in the trees to the sides, but he knew they would be approaching soon enough. Timing would be tricky. If he didn’t get it right, he and his men would be slaughtered right where they stood.

  Still a hundred meters away, Lowell suddenly jerked his rifle down and fired. His men followed his lead. Puffs of white smoke were visible all along the line of riders, a fraction of a second before they heard the sound of guns firing. There were so many rifles firing at once the sound was almost deafening. Bullets rattled through the trees, hitting leaves and limbs and thudding into firing stands. Jack and his men returned fire through the small openings in the stands. Because there was no pausing to reload, the rain of bullets was continuous. This was a fight like no one on Agrilot had ever seen. This was war with a new and much more deadly weapon than a homebuilt.

  One bullet found its way through a firing stand, in the small space between logs, and into a ranger’s thigh. Jack glanced when he heard the man scream and watched as the man fell to the ground, a red spot on the front of his pants. It was one of the rangers from Borderton. The wounded ranger did not stay on the ground. With a determined grimace on his face, he reached out, grabbed a limb that was part of his firing stand, pulled himself up, then stood on one leg and leaned against the stand as he returned fire. A cheer rose from his fellow fighters, but the cheer died immediately when another man fell to the ground, a bullet in his chest. This man would not pull himself back up, ever again.

  Several of Lowell’s men and a couple of the horses had fallen, but the charge continued. The closer they got, the more accurate the shooting would be, and the more bullets would find their mark. On both sides. Jack would have to order his men to retreat in a few seconds. He hoped that the men Lowell had coming through the trees on the sides would be close enough so that they couldn’t outflank him, but he still couldn’t see them.

  At that moment, with bullets flying and Jack carefully taking aim on a charging rider, Jack’s bracelet vibrated against his skin, and a voice sounded in his ear, “This is a simultaneous alert to all agents. We have a new search. The code has been transferred to your bracelets. It is critically important that we find a match as quickly as possible. Do not hesitate. Move around among the populace and check everyone you come in contact with. Repeat. The code is in your bracelet. Please begin checking for this code immediately.” Jack shook his head and returned his attention to the bead he had drawn on the charging rider. He was determined to ignore all such requests from the people in the sky, no matter how bad that might turn out to be.

  Over the next few minutes of fighting, three more of the men around Jack fell and did not move. Several more were injured but continued to fight.

  Dokie was hit in the forearm, the bullet only grazing his skin, doing little more than drawing a fair amount of blood. He looked at Jack and said, “I spent years breaking laws and never got shot once. Now I’m trying to be good, and I’ve been shot twice. I may have to turn back to a life of crime to save myself!”

  Jack smiled as he continued to fire. A lot of Lowell’s men had fallen, but not enough. In a few seconds, the first firing stands would be overrun. Jack gave the order to pull back and hoped he had not been too hasty or waited too late.

  The men jumped on their horses and moved upslope, the horses tugging against the weight of the logs in the stand. As soon as the stands were on the ground, they pulled the releases on the ropes and galloped to the fallback line. Jack jumped off Killer and crouched behind his and Dokie’s stand. The little man was already there, firing through the trees at the charging troops, blood still oozing from his arm.

  Looking around, Jack saw Lowell’s flanking troops on his left. They were downslope, but not as much as he had hoped. He looked to the other side. It was even worse. The flanking troops on his right had moved upslope when they saw Jack’s men leaving the front stands. They were coming in almost directly from the side. There would be little protection from their bullets.

  Lowell and his men had reached the trees, but the fallen stands slowed them down. They dismounted and began to step through the logs as they moved uphill, firing every step of the way.

  Lowell had too many guns. Jack knew his men would not be able to hold out much longer. “Doesn’t look good, Dokie,” Jack said. “I guess that sidekick job was not as glamorous as you were hoping.”

  “I’d rather die beside you, fighting back, than be hung in Lisbon with McGurke smiling.”

  “Me, too, but it
’s all these other guys. I don’t want their deaths on my conscience. I’m going to raise the white flag. Get on your horse and get out of here. Quick. It’s me they want.”

  “No way! I’m staying right here, and I’m going to keep fighting as long as I can breathe. They’ll have to hang us toget… What’s that?”

  “What’s what?”

  “That big black thing whizzing around out there.”

  “I see it,” Jack said. “It looks like...”

  The big black automobile whizzed toward them then stopped momentarily, immediately behind the line of Lowell’s men. There was a loud explosion at the base of the slope, a deafening sound. A dozen of Lowell’s men went flying through the air, along with dirt and limbs and leaves and small trees. Jack and Dokie ducked behind the cover of their stand. When they looked back up, the automobile had whizzed to another spot not too far away. There was another loud explosion. Behind the automobile, a third army of riders crossed the open field, rifles in hand and firing at Lowell’s troops. This army had on regulation ranger uniforms, and they were equipped with repeating rifles, high-quality rifles made by a man named Lobie Tate.

  “It looks like Avery’s automobile,” Dokie said. “A little. Except it’s not. It’s too fast and too quiet.”

  The charge up the slope had stopped. Lowell’s men were dropping their rifles and raising their hands in surrender. Jack and Dokie lowered their rifles as the firing slowed. There were still a few gunshots here and there, but the fighting was ending quickly.

  “JACK WHEAT!”

  They turned to the side to see Lowell standing to the left of their stand, his rifle pointed at Jack’s chest. “I don’t know how you did it, but you won’t walk away from here.”

  Jack and Dokie both tried to pull their rifles up, but Lowell had the jump on them. Jack knew he was dead even as he lifted his homebuilt. Lowell started to pull the trigger. He didn’t finish. A red spot appeared on the front of his gray uniform. His eyes flared wide, showing white, as he snapped forward. Then another red spot started to grow on his chest. He dropped the rifle and tumbled over, onto the ground at Jack’s feet.

  Slim came walking up. Dokie said, “You saved Jack’s life.”

  “Oh, just a bad habit of mine,” Slim said, a wide grin on his face.

  Cheers went up all around them. They looked downslope then to both sides. All of Lowell’s troops had dropped their rifles, their hands held high in the air.

  The big black automobile whizzed up silently and stopped on the flat below as Jack and Dokie rode downslope to meet it. Avery stepped down from the new, larger passenger compartment. Stan came out behind him. There were two rows of seats and a cutout on the side for Braindon’s cart, which was in place. Avery pushed a recessed button on the side of the automobile and Braindon’s cart magically moved out and down, coming to rest on the ground.

  “Wow!” Dokie said. “This is the same car, isn’t it? What happened to it?”

  “Braindon happened to it,” Avery said.

  “We made some improvements,” Braindon’s low voice said. “We improved everything. It was such an archaic device, we essentially had to redesign and rebuild it.”

  “Oh, but Avery and his scientist friends worked brilliantly on the few little changes we made,” Braindon’s high voice said. “They are so talented, and they worked so quickly.”

  “The technology is amazing,” Avery said. “It’s an electric car. Totally quiet. The batteries are so simple. Why, Life on Agrilot is going to change dramatically. And soon!”

  “And that’s my next issue,” Stan said. “I’m going to introduce Braindon to the public, let them know a better world is on the way.”

  “We’ve still got some loose ends,” Jack said.

  “Yeah,” Dokie said. “Like Jonathan McGurke.”

  Chapter 63

  At the sound of a commotion in the hall, Jonathan McGurke looked up from his desk. The door flew open as six men came bustling through. The first was his bodyguard, a replacement when Lowell took over command of the rangers. The man stumbled against McGurke’s desk but stood in front of it trying to protect the businessman. The other five were two uniformed ranger officers with repeating rifles, Mayor Davis, Jack Wheat, and the stunted little thug that hung with Wheat.

  “What is the meaning of this?” McGurke shouted. “How did you get out of jail, Davis? I’ll have Lowell arrest every one of you!”

  “Lowell is dead,” Davis said flatly. “I have been released from false imprisonment and have reassumed my duties as Mayor of Lisbon.”

  “Dead?” McGurke said, a cloud covering his face. “Not Lowell. No. How did this happen?”

  “You sent him to his death,” Mayor Davis responded. “You should never have tried to take a political office by force. The people of Lisbon elect their leaders in fair elections.”

  “I did nothing of the kind, you fool. I’ll have the rangers arrest you and take you right back to jail. The council has elected me interim Mayor of Lisbon for the rest of your term.”

  “The council reversed themselves this morning,” Jack said. “Once they knew the truth.”

  “To hell with your truth! Get out of my house.”

  “We are here by order of the Commander of the Rangers,” Davis said. “We are his deputies for this arrest.”

  “Commander of the Rangers. You said Lowell was dead. Who gave an order like that?”

  “I did,” Dokie said. “The little man’s smile widened.

  “I have appointed Constantine Keyworth Edwards as temporary Commander of the Rangers,” Mayor Davis said, “Until a permanent Commander can be selected.

  Dokie cringed when his birth name was called, but the smile recovered quickly. “And I’m going to do such a fantastic job they’ll make me the permanent Commander. Now, my first duty as Commander is to arrest you for capital murder.”

  “Murder? Don’t be absurd! I’ve never hurt anyone in my life.”

  “You murdered the men that fell on that battlefield, just as sure as if you’d been there and pulled the trigger,” Dokie said. “You may as well have murdered everyone who was killed by a Rhino while you sat on your repeating rifles waiting to make your political move. And you’ve had your enemies secretly beat up and killed by your thugs many times over the years.”

  “Preposterous. You can’t prove a thing…”

  “On the contrary, we can. Your men are in jail, and they’re singing some pretty sweet melodies. Their stories all correlate. No question they’re telling the truth. You are going to spend a long time behind bars, Jonathan McGurke.” Dokie turned to the two armed rangers and said, “Gentlemen, please escort Mr. McGurke to our establishment.”

  “We would love to have you stay in Lisbon,” Avery said. “This is going to be a busy place in the coming months. There are so many unbelievable changes coming.”

  “It may be too much for an old Rhino hunter,” Jack said. “Besides, I’d miss Borderton like I did the last time I came here. And I’d miss Sheffie.”

  “She could come with you,” Avery said. “We would love to have her here as well.”

  “I’ll ask, but I doubt it. She’s stuck in that small town library like she was one of the logs holding the place up.”

  “Very well. But please visit as often as possible. I can’t wait to show you all the things Braindon and I are going to invent.”

  Jack nodded and smiled and waved his goodbyes to Avery and Stan and Dokie. He would make it a point to come back often. And to bring Sheffie now that the residents were no longer hostile toward him. The next trip would be fun.

  Chapter 64

  As he rode into Borderton, Jack chatted with the people he saw. He knew them all. It seemed like months, even years since he had had time to stop and talk to his admirers in his own hometown. They welcomed him home with warm smiles; offers of food, water, and moonshine; and exclamations that they had never lost faith in him during the entire ordeal.

  He was told several times that Sheffie wa
s out of the hospital and back at the library. Leaving his old admirers behind as soon as prudence allowed, he made his way to the center of town and arrived in front of the small log library building only to find a sign on the front door that stated: “GONE SHOPPING!” Yes, Sheffie was getting back to her old self again.

  Jack tied Killer to one of the hitching posts out front. He was in a hurry and would take Killer to the stable later. He wanted to tell Sheffie about Lisbon and how everything had ended so well. But he also wanted to tell her about Ethan and the people in space and his plight. Maybe she could help. But most of all, he wanted to hug her and feel her wonderfulness in his arms once again. It had been too long, far too long.

  The row of shops in Borderton was not long. He saw her through the window of the hardware store, looking at doorknobs, of all things. He stepped inside and walked up to her and said, “Doorknobs?”

  “JACK!” The knob went flying as she jumped into his arms. How he had missed her. As they hugged and he felt her hair against his cheek and smelled the clean of her skin, he knew the time had finally come. This was it. He was ready to get on his knees and propose, right then and there, in front of everyone in the store. But first, the hug. It was too good to stop. Even with a cast on her arm, she felt so wonderful to snuggle into. He couldn’t deny himself that. Then the bracelet alarm tingled in his ear, the signal for a tissue match.

  “Oh, Jack!” she whispered.

  He went limp, almost dropping her. Oh, God! Please, not Sheffie he begged inside his head. The alarm tingled again.

  There was a voice in his ear, as though the person was standing beside him. It was not Sheffie this time. “You have a match, Mr. Wheat. Excellent! When can you harvest?”

  The voice was the same one that Jack had heard in the corridor of the space station, the posthuman Ethan called Stephan.