The Steam Tycoon

by Golden Czermak

  Aftershock was a few paces ahead of her. Reaching into the front pocket of his scraggy denims, he removed a brass disc decorated with an embossed border that resembled piping. In the center was a mound of red glass surrounded by leafy patterns. Depressing it with a thumb, there was a brief click and the entire front flicked open, revealing itself as a lid. Beneath was a fancy compass, its finely crafted arrow settling.

  Jenny spied the device in Aftershock’s hand, wondering if he had obtained it during one of his past raids. She was about to ask, when he spoke first.

  “It looks like that little detour to avoid those razorjaws didn’t put us off track to badly,” he said, turning a few degrees to the right before snapping the lid shut. “I’d guess we added about fifteen minutes to the overall trek.”

  “I’ll take a fifteen-minute delay over fifteen rows of sharp teeth,” Jenny answered, catching up to Aftershock.

  “You and me both,” he replied, removing a waterskin that had been hitched to his waist. He took a quick sip. “I’ve seen what those critters can do and let’s just say their name is the most understated part.”

  Jenny began panting, relieved they came across the agile creatures in the light, shuddering at the thought of their burnished black bodies lurking around in the dead of night.

  “Speaking of understated, I’m glad the sun has been such today. Hopefully this cloud cover stays put until well after noon,” Aftershock wished, studying the sky as he began to walk northwest. “That should let us easily make up the lost time, unless we encounter more along the way.”

  Jenny fell in behind Aftershock again, trying not to think about deadly bites. To help, she took a liberal look at Aftershock’s shirtless back and shoulders.

  It’s not like they are going to have much of that where you’re going, she justified with herself. So, you better make the most of it while you can and he doesn’t notice.

  But Aftershock was fully aware her eyes were still finding themselves stuck on him. With a subtle groan, he adjusted the bag slung across his left shoulder. Then, reaching behind to a rifle scabbard nestled down the center of his back, he used it to scratch an itch, making sure a few extra seconds were used for gratuitous flexing.

  Jenny liked what she saw but knew it wasn’t possible. That didn’t change the fact that it was a form of torture, like looking at the goods displayed in a baker’s window, while starving, without the money to buy a thing inside.

  Aftershock quickly spun his head to see if he could catch her, but she happened to be faster, already pretending to look away at something more interesting in the distance.

  Silly girl is still holding out a little hope, he thought, turning his attention back to the way ahead. Not that there’s anything wrong with having hope. She seems like a good soul, if I believed in that sort of thing. I hope she finds what’s best for her in the devil’s city, before the worst there finds her.

  Another few hours went by, excessively bright and scorching, and the pair was relieved to see the sun disappearing behind a widespread bank of clouds again.

  “At last,” Jenny said with relief, though she felt far from it being covered in that much sweat.

  Aftershock was shiny too, stopping to wring out a white headband he had donned.

  “Yeah, next time remind me not to curse us by mentioning our good fortune with the weather,” he said, taking a sip of water. “By the way, you best get a drink yourself. From here to the city is where things get a little more interesting.”

  Jenny didn’t think that sounded too bad. The last six, or maybe was it seven, hours were nothing but tedious.

  “What kind of interesting?” she asked, interest piqued as she pulled the canteen from her bag.

  “There’s two,” Aftershock replied, holding up as many fingers. “The first kind would want to kill us because I’m with you and the second, they’d want to do the same because you’re with me.”

  “I… um…” Jenny said, blinking rapidly as she tried to process what was said. “I think your definition of interesting is much different than mine.” She put her hands squarely on her hips. “What happened to that get-straight-to-the-point raider mentality?”

  Aftershock pointed at his bald head before replacing the headband, saying, “Must’ve burned away in the heat.”

  Jenny wasn’t laughing.

  “In all seriousness,” Aftershock continued, “the territory ahead is controlled by a smaller clan known as the Devil’s Shadow.”

  “Their name sounds ominous enough,” Jenny said.

  “Exactly. Don’t be fooled like many people are; as raiders go they’re just as deadly, even with their few numbers.”

  “Why the Devil’s Shadow?” Jenny asked as she took a drink and per the canteen away.

  “Because they live in ‘the shadow’ of city Diablo, cast when the sun sets around the rocky outcrops at the Pitchfork. Oftentimes it’s there that trade caravans or other travelers are ambushed, especially when they make the journey at night.”

  “Thankfully we don’t have that problem.”

  “Still, it’s in our best interest to keep our guard up,” he said, voice getting even more grim. “There’s still seven hours left until we get to the borders of Diablo, around the time we reach the Pitchfork. If that weren’t enough, there’s also Rangers and sentry bots roaming that area.

  “Defending folks from the bandits?”

  “Exactly, so you can imagine they’d be hard-pressed to take you in if you’re spotted with me.”

  “We’ll just have to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  “My plan exactly,” Aftershock said confidently. “I know the area well enough, so we should be fine.”

  THE AIR WAS full of chaotic noise and Aftershock fell to the ground face first, eating a mouthful of sand as his pistol was flung out of reach. With the wind knocked out of him and grit between his teeth, he stayed still, but to get out of there alive, he knew that he had to move.

  “Jenny!” he shouted, finding the strength to crawl on his belly toward the gun. He reached out and using his fingertips, inched the grip close enough to take hold. Twisting his body around he readied his finger with little chance to aim, screaming, “GET DOWN!”

  Jenny leaped forward, crashing into the ground in a dusty haze.

  BANG!

  Bullets zipped over her flattened body in both directions, Aftershock rolling out of the way and behind cover just as three struck the sand where he was.

  “You said we’d be fine!” Jenny shouted; her coarse throat made it sound more like a groan

  “You can kill me later!” Aftershock yelled, firing more rounds toward a formation of rocks that gave the area its name. There were shrouded figures tucked amongst the stones. “Though let’s get out of here first! I could really use your help right now to take down these goons.”

  Jenny didn’t argue, grabbing the junk pistol from her holster while Aftershock swapped his for the rifle. The two aimed, then fired, sending a jacketed volley toward the attackers that blocked the way to the outskirts of the city. Jenny lost balance from the recoil but two of the bandits were struck, falling to the ground where Aftershock finished them off with headshots.

  “Told you that gun had a kick,” Aftershock said.

  Jenny stared harshly at the kit-bashed weapon, then right at him.

  “I’m used to my old one,” she said, popping off a few more loud rounds.

  Aftershock covered her as she reloaded, but more raiders came rushing in from the side.

  “Shit!” he spat, firing the rest of his ammo into the mob. Hitting the mark each time, those attackers toppled but the rest kept coming. “Jenny, take care of the ones that are still under cover up ahead! I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay…” she said calmly. “Wait, what? Where are you going?”

  Pulling out a sharp blade that was strapped to his leg, Aftershock gripped it tightly in one hand while his pistol was primed in the other. Breathing deeply, he abandoned cover, bounding into the
plains.

  The ravagers drew closer, bringing with them axes, clubs with impaled blades, and gloves fitted with nails and razorjaw teeth. They shouted with bloodthirsty hatred, ready to kill.

  Aftershock was no less enraged. He roared back at them, his battle cry fierce and when they met at last, metal clashed against metal, and skin, and bone. The attack was swift and brutal, the lone raider hacking and slashing his way through the Devil’s Shadow until only a few of their more skilled units were left. Some turned to strike, struck down by Aftershock’s bullets.

  “Is that all you got?” he challenged, body coated in still warm blood. The raiders that remained began to scatter. “Thought so…”

  Suddenly, a deep, pitiless laugh replaced the fear filled cries and a behemoth of a man strode through the chaos. The fleeing men froze in fear at the sight of him. He was beastly, adorned with an iron helm of horns from which a scruffy, square jaw jutted. His armor matched and powerful arms held an oversized sledgehammer. One end of it was flat, the other balled and spiked, both caked with stuff that reeked with the stench of death.

  Aftershock recognized him right away as the leader of the Devil’s Shadow.

  “Dante,” he whispered, the name too bitter on his lips to say any louder. “Long time no see.”

  “Well, well, well. If it isn’t ol’ Seth Colton of Skinner fame,” Dante responded in kind, his voice fathomless. “Well, former Skinner fame. What the hell brings you this far out west, boy? It’s not the urge to fuck my men, is it?”

  “Fuck you,” Aftershock snapped back, face red with anger. “You should know by seeing their bodies all around that it isn’t.”

  Dante shrugged his large shoulders, which were at least twice as wide as Aftershock’s.

  “Funny that I’ve been hearing different about you,” he replied.

  “Yeah well, sorry to disappoint you, big man. Now, if you’ll just let us by…”

  “Who? You and the whore over there? I don’t think so, Colton. It’s not that easy to waltz your way through Shadow lands.”

  Aftershock sighed, licking his dry and gritty lips. He readied his finger on the pistol’s trigger, glancing to Jenny who was still occupied with the shooters holed up in the rocks.

  “Okay, have it your way. If it’s trouble you want…”

  “Nah, Seth, it’s not what I want, but it’s certainly what you’re going to get.”

  “In that case, at least get my name right. It’s Aftershock these days.”

  Dante chuckled, knocking over one of his own gang that had been standing too close. Struggling to get back up, Dante put his boot square on the man’s chest. He then pressed down with all his weight.

  CRACK!

  The man cringed, tearful as his helmet was flicked off by one of the hammer’s barbs.

  “Chief!” the raider begged. “No, please!”

  “Aftershock you say?” Dante questioned with disdain as he raised his weapon high. “Interesting choice for a name. Perhaps you’ll reconsider it after you know what real ground-shattering power feels like!”

  “Nooooo!” the pinned raider screamed as the flat end of the hammer came down on his face, smashing it like a melon.

  The ground trembled; Aftershock recoiled.

  He knew violence, having seen all kinds in his years, but that was one of the most ruthless.

  “Vile!” he condemned, mainly due to the lack of honor he showed his own men. But Dante was unfazed, falling into a cold, bloodshot stare.

  “Do you not have the stomach for such things anymore? Now I can see for myself why the Skinners got rid of you. Their time will come, but enough talk for now! It’s your turn to quake!”

  Aftershock’s eyes widened as Dante moved with unexpected quickness. Swiftly, he was upon him and Aftershock was forced to leap out of the way.

  Firing his pistol, a single bullet soared from the barrel only to ricochet off Dante’s chest plate. He was out of ammo with no chance to reload.

  “Shit!”

  Dante reached out, receiving a knife blade to the elbow where his protection was weakest. Blood pooled then splashed on the stained ground to join that of his men. He tried for Aftershock again and was sliced again, his target deftly weaving and carving between each of the massive man’s attempts to grab him.

  Furious, Dante struck the ground several times with his hammer. The land shuddered with each concussive blow and Aftershock toppled, having to roll away from strikes and dart between fallen bodies to avoid being flattened.

  The skirmish continued, Aftershock growing more tired as it raged on while Dante, now moving more slowly, expended far less energy.

  “You’re a persistent pest,” Dante snarled, launching another oncoming swing.

  “You’re welcome,” Aftershock smirked, dodging again. He leaped backwards, air rushing by like a tornado as the hammer missed. “I could do this all night.”

  However, as he landed, Aftershock’s feet struck a nearby body, causing him overbalance. Falling hard onto his back, several spikes on the dead raider’s armor pierced his hamstring.

  “You still haven’t learned the art of modesty, have you?” Dante said as he approached.

  Aftershock was stupefied, the glower spread across his face a reaction to the sting in his leg, which was sharp but bearable. With little choice, he gripped his blade tightly, not about to take what Dante was going to give without a fight.

  He didn’t have to wait very long; the beast of a man looming overhead with the sledgehammer resting across his broad shoulders.

  Dante glared at Aftershock, laying beneath him while his imposing shadow stretched over the downed raider’s body.

  “Here, let me show you how easy it is to be quiet,” Dante said, hoisting the hammer above him.

  “I’ll pass,” Aftershock said as he threw his knife, and the last of his hope with it.

  Dante jerked his forearm down and the blade sunk in with a clatter. Grumbling, he grabbed the fluttering end and yanked the blade free, chucking it into the dead body’s side.

  Aftershock’s eyes grew, knowing he was completely out of options. Dante’s did too, savoring the thought he would be the one to end the infamous Seth Colton.

  Breathing proudly, Dante raised the sledgehammer high and was about to bring it down…

  BOOM!

  The metal of Dante’s helmet clanged, a sudden pain surging in his right temple. He staggered back amid loud ringing, righting himself before he fell and…

  BOOM!

  There was a flash of intense white light, more ringing, and tight pressure at his temples. Dante’s vision became blurry, but he could make out a slender figure approaching as he turned his head toward the right…

  BOOM!

  Warmth flooded the space between skin and metal, running down the bridge of his nose. Dante fumbled as if he’d had too much Cactus Wine…

  BOOM!

  Pain came, Dante’s brain afire. A torrent of high-pitched whines and bright colors came then went, ending in eternal, silent black. Watched by his surviving men, Dante stumbled around aimlessly, chunks of his head and helmet scattered on the blood-soaked ground. They all had expressions of horror, awe, and even relief when his bulk finally hit the damp soil.

  Jenny advanced uneasily, still aiming down the sights of her smoking gun. The air was still and quiet, the haze that had been stirred now settling.

  “Aftershock?” she called, unsure if he was still alive but unable to check since her focus remained on the remaining raiders that were congregating ahead. They were distracted, but she didn’t know for how long.

  “Jenny…” Aftershock answered, much to her relief. “I’m over here, skewered on this dead fellow.”

  She didn’t feel comfortable looking away, not even for a second; these bandits had been so determined to kill them just seconds ago.

  “There happen to be a lot of dead men laying around, AS,” she said, prodding Aftershock to speak more.

  “AS?” he replied crankily. “So we ha
ve little pet names now?”

  “I’m only being concise like you’re used to. Maybe I should add one more S to the end, just so it’s clear we are talking about you.”

  Getting her wish, the stream of words that followed her snippy comment let Jenny know exactly how well, and grouchy, Aftershock was. It also let her know where he was without the need to take her eyes off the Devil’s Shadow. Zeroing in, she picked up her pace. As she moved, the gang didn’t seem to notice or care, transfixed on their leader’s dead body.

  When she arrived at Aftershock, she took on a similar impediment, all her concerns about the raiders fleeing from her thoughts.

  He was on the ground, flat on his back with both legs up as if lounging on the dead body like a reclining chair. Yet judging by the expression he bore it wasn’t as comfortable as it appeared to be.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, dropping to her knees.

  “Been a lot better,” he answered, pointing to his leg. “But all things considered, it’s better than the alternative.”

  Quickly, she maneuvered herself to get a better look. Blood was flowing from underneath his right leg, the area dark and wet. Jenny noticed the spikes studding the armor and realized that’s what Aftershock meant by his predicament.

  “Does it –”

  “Hurt?” he finished for her, heavy breathing stifled by coughs answering the question.

  There was a rustle and some indistinct shouting. Jenny looked over her shoulder toward the bandits; they had started to remove parts of Dante’s armor, clamoring for possession of each piece.

  “Time’s short; seems our friends are getting themselves worked up. Let’s get you off there so we can get the wound cleaned and us out of here.”

  Aftershock winced as Jenny moved her hands into position, slipping her fingers under his leg into a gross and sticky wetness. After counting to three, she pulled as he did his best to lift, and his leg jerked free with a disturbing noise.