Hell Is Empty

by Travis E. Hughes

  “Well, folks, it looks like the infamous murderer Devil Bill Talbert is actually a coward little bitch,” said the Duck to the crowd and cameras. “Afraid to fight Wild Bull McQueen in a fair fight, because he knows his legend is bullshit.”

  “I’ll see you at noon,” Talbert said and hurried through the crowd to get away. The crowd for its part cheered and the Duck immediately went to work collecting wagers.

  Roslyn shoved people aside to follow Talbert. Talbert shot Ed a death stare as he passed. Ed returned it with a childish grin and small wave of his hand.

  “Wait up,” Roslyn shouted as Talbert rounded the corner of F Street onto Twentieth Street.

  “God dammit!” shouted Talbert.

  “Hey,” Roslyn hurried to catch him. “Are you really going to duel Wild Bull McQueen?”

  “Looks like it,” Talbert said. He sniffed, the anger gave him a runny nose.

  “What about moving Kidd tomorrow?” Roslyn asked. “First light and swift and all that?”

  “I don’t know,” Talbert said, not slowing his march. “Let me think.”

  They walked along in silence until they reached the sheriff’s station. It was mostly empty, all hands centered around the Yellow Donkeyballs night club. Though the crowd would disperse once they realized the fight was scheduled for high noon the next day. And most of the staff would return to the office to finish their day. Some would go directly home.

  All these thoughts filled his mind on purpose. Talbert tried not to think of the actual duel. Instead, another thought began to consume him. He imagined the crowd gathered to watch them fight. The entire town, cramped into a one-block radius. People would sell seats on their rooftops. He remembered the event between Dogg Holly and Krave Allison.

  “Okay,” Talbert said, walking past the empty cubicles toward Roslyn’s office, which was located across the hall from Bat Matter’s. “You guys use the distraction tomorrow to get Kidd Wylie out of town.”

  They’d just arrived at Roslyn’s office when Frank and Hattie entered the building. They waited for them to join before further discussing the plan.

  “It’s a very good idea,” Frank said.

  “What if they use the event tomorrow to kill you, Bill?” asked Hattie. “You won’t have anyone watching your back out there.”

  “He’ll have the sheriff’s department there,” Roslyn said. “Plus we can spare Siringo and a junior agent or two.”

  “Wyatt will have my back,” Talbert agreed.

  “So you’re really going to fight Wild Bull McQueen?” Hattie asked.

  “Looks like it,” Talbert said. “It’s the perfect cover.”

  “You think Ed called you out to humiliate you?” asked Frank, sitting on the edge of Roslyn’s desk.

  “I don’t yet know his play,” Talbert said, tugging his ear. “He’s banking on me losing, right?”

  “If you win,” Frank said, letting a fresh thought blossom, holding up a velvet white finger. “Then perhaps he doesn’t look so weak after all. I mean, how can anyone expect him to fight you after that?”

  “You really think he’s trying to make peace with us?” Talbert asked.

  “He said it,” Roslyn added. “Peace is good for business.”

  Siringo walked passed the office door and poked his head in. “We should try that new truck that’s over in the park. What’s the name?”

  He stopped when he realized everyone was staring at him.

  “Who are you talking to?” asked Roslyn.

  “You guys. Didn’t someone say pizza is good for business?” Siringo shrugged with an open mouth.

  “Where’ve you been?” Roslyn asked, looking at his untucked shirt and messy hair.

  “I was at the human brothel,” grinned Siringo his eyes rolling back in his head. “Lovely. Just lovely experience. I think I’m in love. What did I miss?”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Talbert was up before the dawn. How many would come for him? He wondered, lying on his back staring at the off-white ceiling. His apartment was a collection of a few boxes and a mat on the floor. He’d heard somewhere that sleeping on the floor was good for his back. Of that he couldn’t be sure, but it didn’t hurt it. Since giving up bug juice, though, sleeping on the floor meant something different than it had. Sleeping on the floor simply meant passing out before. Now it was a ritual. He’d taken what Hattie had taught him about concentrated breathing and clearing his mind and for the most part it worked. But not this night.

  He was being, once again, reluctantly thrust into the spotlight. He’d tried to hide and for over a decade he’d been fairly successful. Was a decade long enough for people to move on with their lives? To stop searching and seeking revenge on things that happened in a mixed up war? Was Rex Omnious just the first in a long line of misguided youth who lost their parents and older brothers and sisters or wives or husbands, their children, who knew? It was too much to organize and he sat up in bed, giving up on further dreams.

  He felt himself drawn to the source. Like he wanted to walk the battlefield before the great battle, to look for advantages and weak spots. He was the general again. Part of him wanted to laugh and scoff at the notion of taking any fight seriously when the stakes were so low, compared to things like war.

  F Street was mostly abandoned at the early hour. The large star had yet to rise, but its promise painting the horizon orange and pink. Talbert stared at the faded chalk marks on the pavement. He paced it off in the northern direction, counting only nineteen. This caused him to frown and recheck it. Nineteen of his standard paces. He reached for his neck and realized he’d left his smart goggles on the post of his bed. He stepped it in reverse and once more counted nineteen to the chalk mark in the center. He then paced it toward the south. Twenty.

  Holy shit, the famous gunslinger was going to cheat. It made sense, given this was how he’d planned to earn his retirement. Talbert reminded himself that it was only an exhibition for all practical purposes. This was entertainment only. If he lost to Wild Bull McQueen but managed to stun him, then that would preserve his prowess and hopefully keep certain types at bay. If something went wrong and he got put on his ass without even getting a shot off, then things may turn very ugly for him quickly.

  The news feed was local, but that didn’t keep people from uploading it to their devices and carrying it all over Orion’s Arm. Would he have to run? Go into hiding even further? How would he get by? He wasn’t an assassin like Tom Thorn and after spending so much time with Hattie, he found the notion of going back down the dark path less desirable if not impossible.

  A rumble in his gut reminded him that eating was something humans needed to do from time to time and so he sauntered across the street to Izzy’s Breakfast Cantina.

  Talbert was halfway through his tofu and sausage when he felt a large figure drifting above him. His left hand fell to the pearl handle while his right continued to shove the next bite into his mouth. Chewing, he looked up with one eye closed to block the fresh sunlight streaming in through the window.

  The first thing he recognized was the red sash around his waist. Climbing further he caught the red mustache and hawk-like eyes, complete with crow’s feet. He’d taken off his large brimmed hat and held it behind his back.

  “I thought that was you sitting over here by yourself,” Wild Bull said in his deep raspy voice. Talbert wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood. Wild Bull motioned for him to sit back down. Chuck the Duck appeared behind Wild Bull.

  “Join me,” Talbert said, motioning to the chairs beside and across from him. “This place gets crowded soon.”

  “What do you suppose people are going to say, they see us eatin’ breakfrast together before our big fight,” Wild Bull asked, but still taking the seat. “Coffee, black. Toast, wheat if you got it, otherwise the closest thing to it.”

  “I’ll have pancakes, if you have chocolate chips, go ahead and throw those bad boys in there as well,” the Duck said. His shiny black hair looked waxy and sharp in
the ducktail.

  The android server nodded and entered the order over the system.

  “You think people will think we’re going to stage it?” Will Bull asked, waving his finger between Talbert and himself. The joints on his hand looked a bit knotted or swollen. The man had lived a hard life, Talbert thought. But then again, so had he.

  “Nah,” the Duck shrugged. But then he glanced around the room to see that most people were at least glancing their way and whispering.

  “Are we?” Talbert asked and then turned specifically to the Duck. “You about to ask me to take a dive?”

  “You think I need you to take a dive?” Wild Bull asked, his eyes narrowing.

  “Yeah, I do,” Talbert said, slurping his coffee. Wild Bull’s coffee arrived before Talbert put his cup back down. Wild Bull gave a soft chuckle.

  “Wild Bull McQueen is the fastest man in the galaxy,” the Duck said. “Everyone knows that.”

  “Tell that to Wes Hardy,” Talbert said. “But you didn’t seek him out did you?”

  “Well not yet,” the Duck said with a nervous laugh. “We build up toward that one. Besides it may be difficult to convince Wes Hardy to actually use a stun gun.”

  “Exactly. And you didn’t expect to find someone like me so soon, either,” Talbert continued.

  “You’re a guy who ordered a bunch of people dead,” Wild Bull said. “What does that make you in a gun fight?”

  Talbert didn’t have an immediate comeback so he finished his tofu and pushed his plate away. Then he nodded and stood, throwing down a pink byte and two greys beside it on the table.

  “You know that footage from Dogg Holly and Krave Allison’s fight, taken by amateurs on their cheap little devices mind you, reached all the way back to Earth,” The Duck said. “It went viral a thousand times over.”

  “You’re saying our fight’s going to do the same?” Talbert asked, pausing.

  “All my fights are going to do that,” Wild Bull said. “Chuck the Duck is working on copyright deals with lawyers from back on Earth. There are still laws on Earth and if we hold the rights to these fights…”

  “This is going to be big business for guys like you,” the Duck grinned and then rubbed his hands together when his pancakes arrived. “Since the end of the war and the lack of a new government out here, people back on Earth are fascinated with the way of the frontier.”

  “I’m not out here to be famous,” Talbert said. “That’s the opposite of why I’m out here. And where is your sense of dignity?”

  “I drank that away years ago,” Wild Bull said as if it were a joke, but something in his eyes suggested it wasn’t.

  “These fights last what, seconds at most,” the Duck said, swallowing a bite of pancake. “That little clip goes viral because it’s a snap. People can watch that doing whatever, taking a shit, waiting on line for anything. It goes wild. Eventually nearly every single human within in spitting distance of any form of civilization sees it. Do you know how many trillions of humans there are?”

  “No idea,” Talbert said.

  “No one does,” the Duck said with another laugh. “There’s a shit ton of us spread out on a lot of different places, stretching along Orion’s Arm toward the heart of the Milky Way, baby.”

  “I guess I don’t see why anyone would give a shit?” Talbert said, shaking his head. “Let me ask you, which video went bigger, Dogg Holly versus Krave Allison or Dogg Holly getting killed by Rex Omnious?”

  “Well, to be honest with you,” Wild Bull said. “We had already left Earth when that video began to circulate. It was a big thing on the ship but I don’t know how it played on Earth. Turned some off, from what I recall.”

  “I bet it was even more popular than Krave Allison,” Talbert said. “Because a man was killed.”

  “I don’t know,” the Duck said. “People on the ship had mixed feelings about sharing the Rex Omnious video. It was horrible quality and then the idea that he actually killed Dogg instead of stunning him… I don’t know… We aren’t barbarians.”

  “My money’s on the stun duel over the real things,” Wild Bull said. “People will tolerate that and actually celebrate the humanity and civility of it. If it’s done right.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Talbert said and tipped his hat. “I’ll see you at noon.”

  *

  Talbert put on his best suit and stared at his figure in the mirror. He then stepped back and threw down on himself. A soft rap came to the door of his apartment. He quickly holstered his pistol. By it’s gentleness he knew who it was.

  “Hey, kiddo,” Talbert said, letting Hattie into his living room.

  “Don’t you look handsome,” Hattie said.

  “I look like a damn prancing monkey,” Talbert said, fixing his hat to tilt just right.

  “I’ve been thinking, Bill,” Hattie said. “Maybe this will help you.”

  “Help me do what?” Talbert asked.

  “Find them,” she said with eager eyes. “Think about it. If she’s alive and out there some where, she may come in contact with the video of your fight. She’ll know where you are. Maybe, if she can, she’ll come here looking for you?”

  Talbert had to blink. He didn’t realize there were tears forming in his eyes. His mind stretched out to a new awareness. He had only considered his enemies coming to look for him. Why hadn’t he added Amanda and Emyah to the equation? He could feel his heart thudding away in his chest. He wanted to rush to F Street and begin. She was right. This could be the thing that united him with his family. The possibility was debilitating. It was too much; too good to be possible. But then that old voice that now wore the face of Rex Omnious, whispered, They can’t come if they’re dead. If they don’t come, then they are most likely dead.

  Was he ready to face that truth? Closure meant something beyond release to him, he realized when playing out the entire scenario. What if she’s out there, and she’s remarried? Then she won’t come. She has a new life with a new lover and probably more children with this pencil necked bastard.

  He tried to shake the thought free. Hattie’s warm hand on his forearm steadied him. Was she using her Bird magic on him? The sudden wash of serenity told him she was and he was beyond grateful for it.

  “Focus,” Hattie whispered. “Close your eyes and let your thoughts drop away.”

  Talbert obliged her and he let the darkness engulf him. Suddenly he was surrounded by dim and distant stars. Nothing really mattered any longer. The fight, the fame that would come, the enemies… He stopped the thoughts once again from forming and let the blanket of time and space shroud him in tranquility.

  Then, before he realized time had passed, it was time to make the trek to F Street where what felt like the entire town had gathered. Hattie, Siringo, and Barry Gould were the only fellow detectives to accompany him. The others had work to do.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Roslyn peered out the window of the sheriff’s station. The streets were mostly vacant. It made the sight lines incredibly clear and for this she thanked Talbert for his plan and his sacrifice.

  Puff landed on the window and Roslyn lifted it to let him in. He made a clicking noise that she recognized as all clear and she nodded to Frank.

  Grace unlocked Kidd Wylie’s cell and Hassan strapped his wrists in Da’akvine. Hattie then presented her drug-laced katana to his neck.

  “We can carry you to the shuttle station or you can walk, up to you,” Roslyn said.

  “I’ll walk,” Kidd Wylie said. “No need for me to try and run now. I’m innocent right? Just need to clear that with the bastards in Yanker. Right? I have your word, right?”

  “Correct,” Roslyn said and led him down the corridor toward and then across the room of cubicles.

  *

  The heartbeat thud of a steady bass line mingled with the cacophony of thousands of people gathered in a small space. F Street was so crowded Talbert had to fight his way to get to the venue. Siringo and Barry moved ahead of him to shove peo
ple aside. Hattie walked behind him, urging him forward with her Bird magic, sending calming vibrations into him.

  Someone shoved Siringo back, but then the skinny man motioned toward Talbert and they let them pass. Several people reached out just to touch him. It was bizarre beyond comprehension. He felt his stomach turn.

  Thoughts came to him randomly. Surely if she was alive, she’d want Emyah to know her father. At least come out and meet him. Was this worth it? Was this his path to closure? This mad circus?

  Chuck the Duck stood in the center of the street with Wild Bull. Jane Goodaire stalked along the clearing barking at people to move back.

  “Give ‘em some room, ya pie faced lickfingers!” she shouted. “What are you looking at?”

  “Uh, we’re here to see the fight,” someone replied.

  “Well can’t be no fight if you assholes keep crowding onto the damn street!” Jane continued to shout. Some people laughed at her as she passed. Bat Matters had returned and along with Earl Wyatt and several of their deputies tried to do in earnest what Jane was trying to do in jest.

  Hattie reminded him to focus his mind and he left Siringo, Barry, and her at the edge of the crowd to join the show.

  The crowd cheered when Talbert crossed the street and joined Chuck the Duck and Wild Bull. Adriana and her crew stood just at the edge of the clearing, camera drones moving into positions to cover all the angles. She was speaking into one of the drones, hovering to give her a close-up. But over the din, Talbert couldn’t begin to make out what she was saying.

  Just like the time before, the rooftops and balconies were overrun with onlookers. The Yellow Donkeyballs took full advantage and its service androids moved about selling drinks and snacks. Street vendors tried to peddle their wares but the crowds overwhelmed them and they were forced up the street.

  “I told you this was big business,” shouted Chuck the Duck to Talbert as he approached. Adriana and her drone moved out toward them.