gamma world Sooner Dead

by Mel Odom

  “I’ll stand.” Stampede remained loose and ready. “It’s easier to squash a cockroach as it scurries away when you’re standing.”

  Trazall buzzed and Hella knew from past meetings that the insectoid was laughing. “Have I done anything to offend you?”

  “Depends on whether or not you’ve poached my client, roach. Actually, you’ve already offended me by trying.”

  A small man seated to Trazall’s right opened his mouth and breathed out a small jet of flame. He was of medium height, had a shaved head, and was covered in dragon tattoos.

  Trazall put his hand on the man’s shoulder as if restraining him. “Be careful. You know how offended Silence gets if he feels my honor is being impugned.”

  “Really?” Stampede’s right leg trembled slightly, and a tremor ran through the floor as he manifested his seismic power. “How does he feel about earthquakes?”

  The man on Trazall’s left smirked. He wore jeweled rings on all his fingers and plucked at a carefully trimmed goatee. His hair and the beard were tinted green. “How do you think you’d feel about suddenly weighing so much, your knees snap?”

  Stampede lifted his massive handgun in an eye blink and had it trained on the man’s forehead. “Twitch funny, and you’re going to be breathing out of your forehead.” He turned his attention to Trazall. “Then I’m going to blow your head off, roach. Or maybe I’ll blow your head off and let sunlight in through Greenie’s skull.”

  Trazall carefully put his four hands on the table. “Nobody moves until I say you can move.” He spoke calmly and harshly.

  None of his crew moved even to acknowledge the command.

  “Are you backing him, Faust?” Trazall glanced at the gorilloid.

  “On this?” Faust nodded. “Yeah. One of the rules at Blossom Heat is that there’s no theft. From anybody. And especially not from one of my friends.”

  “This?” The insectoid almost sounded surprised. “This is nothing. Just a casual conversation.”

  “He’s lying.” Colleen’s voice cut through the tension in the room. “This—thing—”

  “Dear lady, you wound me.”

  “—has been telling Dr. Pardot that he could guide us more safely than you can.” Colleen didn’t sound entirely together, as if struggling to speak.

  Trazall shifted slightly in his chair, obviously knowing the statement wouldn’t bode well for his immediate future.

  Stampede pointed his other pistol at the insectoid. “However this goes down, they’re going to be burning your corpse, roach.”

  Trazall made a show of looking around. “The two of you? Against eight of us?”

  “Seven of you. I pull the trigger, you’re already off the board. And I’ll take your gravity kinetic with me. And if, by some thin chance, you manage to survive, Hella will ventilate that ugly head of yours after she takes out Sparky.”

  “Ah yes. The girl.” Trazall glanced around. “I’ve heard of her, but I’ve never seen her. So where is she?”

  As graceful as a shadow, Hella slipped through the crowd and stood in front of the fat man so she could be seen. Her hands, pistol barrels, hung at her sides. The fat man at her side immediately vacated the area. The gunmen around Trazall shifted, trying to decide which way they needed to face. That was exactly the mindset Stampede wanted them in.

  “There she is.” Trazall buzzed. “And look at those hands. I’d heard about that, but I’ve never seen anyone like her.” Then he glanced back at Stampede. “If it helps, I didn’t know these people were with you until Dr. Pardot informed me of that.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  “Dr. Pardot said no.” Colleen looked adamant and maybe a little relieved.

  “That’s good, Dr. Pardot.” Stampede spoke casually. “Because I’ll bet the roach didn’t give you his full sales pitch. He leads people through the Redblight, but when they’re on their own and he knows what they’re looking for, he hikes up the price of his services.”

  “Only when things turn disastrous and I’m as fully invested as my client. When they can’t get something on their own, I’ve discovered that most people will agree to an adjusted profit.”

  Pardot grimaced. “You rob them, you mean.”

  “Such harsh words from an obviously learned man. I am disappointed.” Trazall looked back at Stampede. “Since my business here will obviously not bear fruit, I’d like to leave.” He nodded at Stampede. “If you agree.”

  “Sure.” Stampede gestured with his pistol. “But we’re going to do this slowly.”

  One at a time, Trazall’s men moved away from the table and went through the door. Silence and Jack Hart went last. Silence didn’t seem to care, but Hart carried a load of resentment in his dark eyes.

  Trazall stopped at the bar and ordered a bottle of whiskey to go. He paused at the door and looked at Stampede. “Another time, when the deck isn’t stacked in your favor, and this will end differently.”

  For a moment Hella was certain Stampede was going to shoot the insectoid anyway. Stampede didn’t believe in threats, and he wouldn’t let anyone he felt certain would try to act against him later walk away. She’d seen him kill men who had threatened her. He’d always told her it wasn’t the guns facing her that were dangerous; it was the ones she didn’t see coming. But he’d never shot a man—or an insectoid—in the back.

  “Stampede.” Faust spoke in a low voice, and the only reason Hella heard him was because Stampede’s comm link picked up the conversation. “I got a job here. You pull that trigger, I gotta put you and the imp out for the night or Carnegie will have a new chief of security in the morning. With those Sheldons running around, maybe sleeping outside wouldn’t be such a good idea.”

  In the next instant, as if he’d suddenly realized he’d overstayed his safety margin, Trazall stepped sideways and disappeared into the night.

  Hella readied herself to follow, already mentally mapping a route through the window of the adjoining room.

  Stampede took a deep breath and put away his weapons. Hella slowly let her hands become human again.

  Riley waved one of his men into motion, and the guard went toward the door.

  Stampede’s ear twitched as he addressed Riley. “If you have your man tail Trazall too close, you’ll have to burn him come sun up. If you can find the body.”

  “Since Trazall took an interest in us, he seems like someone to watch.” Riley placed a thin slice of ham on toasted bread and took a bite.

  Hella’s stomach gurgled happily at the thought of homemade bread. She was suddenly torn between the bath and the meal Faust had promised.

  Lacing his fingers together in front of himself with his elbows on the table, Pardot glared at Stampede. “Your insistence on insinuating yourself into this matter only seems to have made things more incendiary. I had already dealt with things.”

  “I’m sure you had. But when I came down here, Trazall was still seated at this table. Now he’s not. Maybe you don’t recognize it now, but later you’ll realize that having Trazall gone is the best thing that could have happened.” Stampede shifted his attention back to Riley. “You should keep that in mind. In case you see him again.”

  “I will.”

  Stampede excused himself and left. Hella waited a moment, making sure they kept some distance between themselves in case Trazall left someone they didn’t know about in place inside the room. Then she went up the stairs.

  “That went well, I think.” Hella closed the door behind herself and double-locked it. She expected Stampede to react to her sarcasm, but he didn’t. “Don’t you think that went well?” She couldn’t stop herself from trying to goad him into at least an argument. Adrenaline still pumped through her system.

  The bed creaked under Stampede’s weight when he sat on it. He looked tired. Dust filmed his shaggy coat. “One thing we didn’t need, Red, was Trazall sniffing around.”

  “Maybe he’ll go away.”

  “After getting a look at all the security guards and ATVs Pardot
has running with him?” Stampede shook his head. “Not likely. The question is: Do we deal with the roach here, or do we do it out on the trail?”

  “If we fight with Trazall inside the trade center, Faust is going to take some heat for everything. He stuck his neck out for us tonight.”

  Stampede smiled wryly. “And Faust doesn’t have much neck to offer.”

  Hella grinned but the tension she felt didn’t entirely go away.

  Stampede rolled his neck, and the vertebrae cracked. “Go soak, Red. Lemme think about it. Then we’ll take Faust up on his dinner offer. No reason for us to lose the whole evening.”

  Not needing a second invitation, Hella grabbed a clean change of clothing and headed for the bathroom. In minutes she was immersed in hot, scented water, and the past few days leached out of her.

  “Hey, the guard?” Hella adjusted her sunglasses as she looked at the guards on the catwalk. The cool morning was still gray-pink in the western sky.

  One of the guards looked down. “Aren’t you that girl that has the big lizard in the barn?”

  Hella grinned. Despite the standoff in the main building the previous night, she’d slept well after her bath and the big meal Faust had promised. If she’d dreamed, she didn’t know it.

  “Yeah.”

  “The girl with the buffalo-guy?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Interesting company you keep.” The guard was an older man in his late forties or early fifties. Hella could never tell when they got to be that age. “What do you want?”

  “The name’s Hella and I’d like to come up, take a look around if I can.”

  The guard conferred with his companion then turned and nodded. “Faust gave you guys free run of the camp yesterday when he let you in. That’s good enough for me. Come ahead.” He kicked a device, and a steel ladder spooled down in a series of clanks.

  Hella climbed the ladder easily and quickly gained the catwalk. She stamped her foot experimentally. The steel surface clanged beneath her combat boots.

  The guard grinned at her. “When I first got up here, I felt the same way. Just didn’t trust it. The fall’s not that bad, but I didn’t want to take a tumble just the same.”

  “I’ve fallen out of taller trees. Just not onto pavement.” Hella walked to the wall and peered over, the edge tucked neatly under her chin.

  “They say you and the buffalo-guy—”

  “His name’s Stampede. If you call him buffalo-guy to his face, he might stomp you.”

  “Well, we wouldn’t want that.” The guard grinned then fumbled in his pocket and brought out a packet of jerky. He offered the packet to Hella.

  Even though Hella had just enjoyed one of the biggest breakfasts she’d ever had, she accepted the jerky. Food was a prized possession, and a person never took or shared food lightly.

  “Thank you.” Hella bit off a chunk. The salty flavor spread across her tongue and filled her senses. When she breathed out, she exhaled jerky fumes. She didn’t like staying in camp towns, but the prevalence of food—and so many flavors—made a good argument for regular visits. Plus, seeing Faust again reminded her how much she missed him.

  “Not a problem.” The guard put the jerky away. “Right here in Blossom Heat, we stay hip deep in wild pigs. If we didn’t eat them as often as we do, they’d overrun us and eat us.”

  The other guard chuckled, but the line was obviously an old joke.

  “I heard there was a face-off in the main building last night.” The first guard chewed his jerky and watched her.

  “Gossip gets around.”

  The man grinned. “It’s a trade center. That’s what folks do here in between haggling, selling, and buying. Is anything going to come of the bad blood?”

  “I don’t know. Did Trazall leave last night?”

  “Nope.” The guard pointed to a collection of tents and a handful of wagons and ATVs on the north side of the wall. “They’re still there.”

  Only three men tended the cook fire in the camp area. Hella knew the men were guards posted by Trazall. She recognized one of them from the confrontation. “How many men?”

  The guards exchanged looks and smiled. “That what you come up here for? Get a headcount?”

  Hella smiled back at them, as if letting them in on a secret. “I don’t think knowing how many are out there would hurt. Do you?”

  “I counted twenty-six riders. Including Trazall.”

  “Trazall stayed down there last night?”

  The man shook his head. “Nope. He stayed inside the walls. Got himself a room.”

  Hella nibbled at the jerky and thought about that. So far she and Stampede hadn’t seen the insectoid. That bothered her. Trazall was someone she wanted to keep an eye on.

  “We’ll see Trazall coming if he decides to brace us, Red. Don’t worry.” Stampede’s voice was calm.

  “Not worried. Just like to know.”

  “We’ll know. Faust has got people on Trazall.”

  “Trazall doesn’t have to be the one that makes the move.”

  “You’re getting to be a real pessimist. You know that?”

  “You should be proud.” Hella smiled. She looked out over the countryside and at the creek that meandered through the forest less than a klick away. Boats traveled the creek, and a lot of them stopped to trade at Blossom Heat. She wondered what it had been like in the ancient days, when the world had been filled with buildings and traffic. The idea was hard to imagine. She loved the open places and didn’t want to think of them being filled in by structures and humans thick as ants. Trade camps were bad enough.

  “Primo.” The second guy reached into his chest packet and took out a pair of binocs.

  “Yeah?”

  “I thought I saw something in the tree line to the east.”

  Curious, Hella looked in that direction down the row of guards lining the catwalk. One hundred fifty meters away, the guards in the sniper tower talked among themselves.

  “Clancy.” The first man’s voice was tight.

  Hella didn’t hear the answer because Clancy was at the other end of a radio connection.

  “Yeah, I think there’s movement out at the eastern perimeter.”

  Beyond the guard tower, a half klick away across the barren expanse of land shorn of trees, Hella tracked the landscape. The morning sun made it hard to look in that direction because the light slanted in at just the right angle to be near blinding.

  The first guard, Primo, dropped his assault rifle from his shoulder into his waiting hands. “Clancy says he sees guys out in the bush. Must be three or four dozen. All of ’em just waiting. Go sound the alarm.”

  The second guard hurried down the catwalk to a crank-driven air horn.

  Primo turned to Hella. “Gonna need to you clear the catwalk, kid.”

  The guard tower exploded into flaming pieces that rained down over the camp. A deafening boom battered the inside of Hella’s skull, and the catwalk shivered, making her stomach clench.

  Before the second guard reached the air horn, the back of his head evaporated in a spray of blood.

  CHAPTER 10

  Primo lurched across the catwalk and made it two steps before a bullet ripped through his left thigh. As he crumpled, at least one more round struck his body armor. He cried out in pain and reached for his dropped rifle.

  Crouching, Hella morphed her hands into pistols and took up a position with her back to the wall. Stretching out her right leg, she kicked Primo’s assault rifle over to him. He grabbed it and pulled it to him gratefully.

  “Hella!” Fear underscored Stampede’s voice.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Get down from there.”

  “We’re under attack. I can’t see what’s going on down there.” Hella edged up and peered over the top of the wall. Bullets continued to rip along the catwalk, picking off slow guardsmen and creating a hellish racket as the rounds drummed against the sheet metal before ricocheting off.

  A pack of Sheldons aboard mot
orcycles broke from the tree line. A few of the armadillo bikers flew small flags with snarling, purple dragons. For the most part, they rode two to a motorcycle, and a few of them were in sidecars that jerked and sailed over the uneven landscape.

  “It’s the Purple Dragons.”

  “Kid.” Primo tried to lever himself up. His eyes locked on hers. “Gotta sound that air horn. There’s guards in their racks that aren’t gonna know what’s going on.”

  Hella didn’t know how anyone could miss the fact that the trade camp was under attack.

  “The guard’s right.” Stampede sounded calm but Hella knew he would be moving into a position to return fire. “If you can sound that alarm without getting killed, do it.” His voice rose. “Faust! Hey, Faust! We have to open the gates, get those people outside inside before those Sheldons massacre them!”

  Thinking about the people trapped outside the trade camp made Hella more angry. She morphed the guns away and took back her hands then scuttled down the catwalk to the air horn.

  “I know the Sheldons are counting on the gates being opened!” Stampede sounded rushed but he was calm at the same time. His urgency was tangible. “We’re going to have to get the gates closed again before the Sheldons get in here. Move it.”

  Hella reached the air horn, grabbed the crank, and turned it swiftly. Instantly the eerie wail rose over the trade camp. Down in the streets, the stunned guards shook off their paralysis and immediately raced into positions.

  When everything went south, rely on training. That had been one of the first lessons Stampede had taught Hella. She released the crank on the air horn and raced along the catwalk toward the flaming guard post. The biker army had targeted those emplacements because they had heavy artillery there, but Hella hoped that not all of it had been destroyed.

  Bullets hammered the catwalk and whined off around her. A round glanced off her left shoulder, turned away by the chain mail. She cried out at the pain, stumbled, but kept moving.