Dead Dwarves Don't Dance

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Dead Dwarves Don't Dance Page 25

by Derek J. Canyon


  “Don’t worry, Earless,” Chauveau said. “I’ll double your fee.”

  Earless managed to smile. “That should do.”

  “What I want to know,” Grue said, “is how the hell were you psyking like a freaking god?”

  “I’m not going to tell you all my secrets,” Earless said. “But, you might have figured it out if I hadn’t altered your brain. I’ve been programming your mind ever since I psyked you into taking the Stiltzkin job.”

  “You what? You freaking witch!” Grue felt the tentacle loosen around him. It seemed to be fading.

  The pleaser bowed. “At your service.”

  “And now,” Administrator Chauveau said, “would you please kill them all? Better turn them to goo so they can’t be identified.”

  Earless shook her head. “Sorry. I ain’t got much juice left tonight.”

  “Well, then put bullets in their heads. We’ll just have to hope the crash incinerates their bodies.”

  Earless labored to her feet and pulled out a pistol.

  “I think it’s too late for that,” Noose said, pointing behind the pleaser.

  All eyes turned to look out the shattered windows. Directly in front of the airship, the Peerless Tower approached with alarming speed.

  67

  Unable to prevent the impending collision, police and news skycars sped around the dirigible as it flew out of control. It was descending rapidly after the missiles, miniguns, and psykic energies destroyed several gasbags. As it neared the Peerless Tower, anti-aircraft defensive systems on the structure engaged.

  Tracer fire stitched across the hull. An engine housing exploded. Flames spread up the rear of the ship, gasbags deflated, and the craft descended in near freefall. The dying hulk crashed into the middle floors of the Tower, shattering windows as it scraped down the soaring edifice. It fell a dozen more floors and then jerked to a violent stop as the hull snagged on a protruding landing pad. The dangling remains of the gondola crashed into the side of the tower, scattering everyone across the ballroom.

  Noose held on to the stair railing as Bernd Buhl slid across the floor and out the window, smashing into the Peerless Tower before plunging to his doom. As the floor continued to shudder and tilt, Cori slid toward the fatal drop. She grabbed at the burnt and torn carpeting, slowing her descent. Clinging desperately to Cori’s boots, Earless’ legs dangled halfway out the broken window.

  “Noose! Help!” Cori cried.

  The dwarf looked around the room, trying to find a way to help her. Broken furniture, slid across the floor. Chauveau pulled herself along a torn curtain, trying to get away from the edge. The governor muttered incoherently from where he sat on the stairs, clutching the same railing that Noose held firmly in his grip.

  “This thing ain’t going to last much longer,” Grue yelled as he yanked free of the vanishing tentacles and struggled to a doorway.

  Noose pulled the cable from his harness and affixed it to the railing. He ran across the listing floor and jumped as the carpet tore under Cori’s grip. He grabbed her harness, preventing her from sliding out of the room.

  “Gotcha!”

  “And Earless has me!” Cori turned to look at the pleaser clawing her way up Cori’s legs. “Let go!”

  “To hell with that!” Earless screamed, strain and fear on her face. “Pull me up!”

  The floor tilted another ten degrees and Cori slid farther toward the edge. Noose locked the cable. Only Earless’s head and shoulders remained visible as she clung to Cori’s legs and boots.

  “We don’t have time for this, Cori!” Noose yelled.

  Cori nodded, and turned back to Earless. Beyond the pleaser’s frightened face she could see the lights of the city glittering far below. Flashing police skycars orbited the ship, unable to help.

  “Pull me up, you breeder!”

  “Not today.” Cori yanked a leg free and kicked her booted foot into the pleaser’s face. Earless’ head jerked back, but she did not lose her grip. Cori kicked again, and again. Blood poured from Earless’ nose and mouth.

  “I ain’t going alone!” Earless screamed, spitting out broken teeth.

  “Yes, you are!” Cori drew her leg back and swung it in a wide kick. Her boot connected solidly with the pleaser’s jaw. Earless screamed as she plummeted toward the unforgiving concrete a kilometer below.

  Noose pulled Cori to him and hugged her tightly. She returned the embrace.

  “What now?” she asked after a few brief moments.

  “Good question.”

  The gondola lurched again and dropped several floors, throwing Noose and Cori out into the night.

  68

  Noose’s cable yanked them to a stop, dangling three meters below the ship. Cori held tightly to Noose’s harness, and the dwarf kept a good strong hold on her.

  “I think we may be in some trouble,” Noose admitted, gazing down at the streets far below. Flaming wreckage fell around them.

  “What do we do?”

  “Pray for divine intervention?”

  The cable jerked upward. In a few seconds, they were pulled back up onto the floor of the banquet room.

  “Come on!” Grue yelled from the tilted stairway where he hauled on the cable. He kept drawing in the cable until both Noose and Cori clambered onto the stairs with him.

  “Thanks, Grue,” Cori gasped as the room shook again.

  “No time for that,” the goon said. “We’ve got to get out of here before this whole thing breaks loose.”

  “How?”

  “By going through that.” Grue pointed to the balcony at the top of the stairs that wrapped around part of the room. As the dirigible swung and bumped against the Peerless Tower, the balcony smashed up against the building’s broken windows.

  Noose smiled. “You may get us out of here alive.”

  “That’s my plan. All we have to do is climb along the balcony and jump across.”

  Noose nodded and Grue started up the stairs, holding onto the railing as they traversed the steeply pitched floor. Cori followed, and Noose brought up the rear.

  “Wait for me!”

  Noose stopped and turned back to the governor. Xin clawed at the railing, dragging himself after the dwarf. Noose frowned. The governor was just another politician. But he hadn’t been involved in the Stiltzkin’s attack.

  “You’re going to have to keep up, gov,” Noose said, grabbing the man’s coat and helping him to his feet. “Let’s go.”

  “Hey! You can’t leave me here!” Administrator Chauveau still clutched the curtain on the far side of the room. As the airship pitched and reeled, she was slammed against the floor and wall. “Get me out of here!”

  “No!” Cori leaned over the railing and spat at the woman.

  Chauveau screamed and ranted, hurling curses and insults after them.

  “I certainly won’t miss her,” the governor said.

  Grue and Cori waited on the balcony, holding the wall for support. The slanted floor shook beneath their feet. They looked through the shattered hull at the broken windows of the tower. The chasm between widened as the airship shook.

  “Who goes first?” Cori asked.

  “You do,” said Grue. He grabbed her in his herculean grip, stepped to the edge, and threw her across the gap. She landed in an office suite amidst a pile of broken duropane. She jumped up and looked back, giving the okay sign.

  “Good job, Grue,” Noose said.

  “I’ve got some practice throwing women out of dangerous situations.”

  “What about governors?” Noose jerked a thumb at Xin.

  Grue assessed the politician. “He’s not as sleek.”

  “You don’t actually think I’m going to let you toss me across that, do you?”

  Grue seized him in his big hands, spun around, and flung him into the building.

  “Two for two!” Noose congratulated, even as a terrible metallic screech sounded from above. “Now for some dwarf tossing?”

  “No time!” Grue picke
d up the dwarf, tucked him under his arm, and jumped.

  69

  The goon toppled onto the office floor, sending Noose tumbling across the room. They jumped to their feet just as the dirigible broke free. Noose thought he could hear Chauveau screaming. The remains of the dirigible whipped away past the window and Noose looked out to see it plummet toward the street.

  Cori joined him at the window. “I don’t think she’ll survive the fall.”

  “Well, she still has thirty seconds or so to think about it,” Grue said, leaning against a support.

  They watched in silence until the dirigible smashed into the ground.

  “Crap,” Grue lamented, “I was hoping for an explosion.”

  Cori sighed and hugged Noose.

  Something caught his eye, hovering outside the window. Something fat with tattered, multicolored robes.

  “Sweetpea!” the dwarf shouted.

  The psyker swooped into the room, out of control, smashing into a desk before falling to the floor. They all ran to her side and helped her into a sitting position. She groaned, bleeding and sweating.

  “I’ll be expecting a bonus for this job, Ichabod,” she said, breathing like a she’d just run a marathon.

  “We thought you were a wet smear on the pavement,” Grue said.

  “It’s a poor psyker that can’t fly.”

  Grue and Noose exchanged glances, but said nothing.

  Cori grabbed Sweetpea’s hand and laughed. “As long as you’re okay.”

  “I just need a few weeks of vacation,” Sweetpea responded.

  “And you’ll get it. Thanks to you we made it out of this alive.” Noose turned to Grue. “Thanks to you, too.”

  “It’s the least I could do for all the pain and problems I’ve caused you and yours.” The goon turned to Cori. “You still want to kill me?”

  “No,” she said softly, “I heard what Earless said. She was controlling your mind. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Yeah, maybe… Still, I regret it.”

  “You don’t have to worry about it, Grue,” Noose said. “With the creds you’ve got left, you’ll get that retirement in Arizona.”

  “You know, Noose, my offer still stands. Or do you like being an assassin?”

  “I never thought about whether I liked it or not,” Noose admitted. “It was just my job. What I did. What I’d been trained for, genetically created for.” He looked at Cori. “But it’s something I’d rather not do any more.”

  Cori smiled and walked over to hug him.

  “You know,” Sweetpea said, “before anyone retires, we’re going to have to get out of this building.”

  “She’s right,” the goon said.

  “Here we are chatting like we’re on a Sunday afternoon picnic while the Regional Police are swarming around us.” Cori pointed at the flashing police skycars gathered around the Peerless Tower.

  “Yes, you are all in a lot of trouble.”

  They turned to see the governor sitting in the office chair, dabbing at his sweaty brow with a handkerchief.

  70

  Governor Jones-Utu-Rudeholmer-Xin continued. “You did just cause the deaths of all the district managers of the Regional Atlanta Metroplex, as well as murder police officers and the crew.”

  Noose scowled. “We just saved your life.”

  “And took dozens of others. I don’t see how you can come out of this without being convicted of serious crimes.”

  “It’ll be hard to get a conviction without the last witness,” Grue stepped toward the politician.

  “Don’t threaten me! Those police skycars out there are watching us. They’ve already snapped your pics and are bringing up your records. You’re caught. You’re going to be arrested, convicted, and thrown in prison for mass murder.”

  “No reason not to throw you out the window, then.” Grue pulled the governor from the chair.

  “Wait! Wait! Don’t get hasty. We can make a deal.”

  “What do you mean?” Noose asked.

  “Simple. You need me to keep you out of prison. I need you to do me a favor.”

  “By not killing you?” Grue growled.

  “No. I have a need for talented people, and you are all quite talented.”

  “You need mercs?”

  “Yes. Yes, I do.”

  Cori and Grue looked down at the dwarf.

  Noose pulled a bent cigar from his pocket. He scraped it across the stubble on his chin and puffed it to life. The aromatic smoke swirled in the breeze. He sighed.

  “What’s the deal?”

  Want to read the sequels sooner?

  I’m a part-time, self-publishing author. This means that I don’t have a lot of time or money to write my novels or pay to advertise them on tv, magazines, or websites. This makes it hard for people to even know about my novels. The best advertising I can get is from people who like my work and want to see more of it. If you’re such a person, you can help me sell more books by doing any or all of the following:

  Tweet about my books or mention them on Facebook.

  Leave a nice review on Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

  Little things like this can really help out unknown authors like me. There are hundreds of thousands of books out there, so every mention by a fan adds up and can help me get noticed and sell more books.

  If I sell enough books to become a full-time novelist, I can publish at least twice as many books every year. That means you’d get to read more of my stuff sooner! If you like that idea, I’d really appreciate your help.

  -Derek

  Hard Day's Knight excerpt

  by John G. Hartness

  Chapter 1

  I hate waking up in an unfamiliar place. I’ve slept in pretty much the same bed for the past fifteen years, so when I wake up someplace new, it really throws me off. When that someplace is tied to a metal folding chair in the center of an abandoned warehouse that reeks of stale cigarette smoke, diesel fuel and axle grease - well, that really started my night off on a sparkling note.

  My mood deteriorated even further when I heard a voice behind me say “It’s about time you woke up, bloodsucker.” I mean, seriously, why do people have to be so rude? It’s a condition, like freckles. I’m a vampire. Deal with it. But we can do without the slurs, thank you very much.

  “Go easy on the bloodsucker, pal. I haven’t had breakfast” was what I tried to say. But since my mouth was duct-taped shut, it came out more like “Mm mmmm mm mmm-mmmmmmm, mmm. Mm mmmmmm mmm mmmmm.” My repartee was gonna need an assist if I was going to talk my way out of this. Of course, if my mysterious captor had wanted me dead, he’d had all day to make that happen, but instead I woke up tied to a chair. I tested my bonds, but I was tied tight, and whatever he had bound me with burned, so it was either blessed, and he was devout, or it was silver. My money was on silver. The true believers are more the stake them in the coffins type than the kidnap them and tie them to chairs type.

  “I think, bloodsucker, that since I’m the one with the stake, I get to call you whatever I want. And you, as the one tied to the chair with silver chains, get to sit there and do whatever I say.” My captor moved around in front where I could get a good look at him. I knew him, of course. It’s never the new guy in town who ties you to a chair; it’s always that creepy guy who you’ve seen lurking around the cemetery for a couple weeks. The one that you’re not sure if he was there to mourn, or for some other reason. And of course, it was always some other reason.

  I’d seen this guy hanging around one of the big oak trees in my cemetery, near the freshest grave in the joint, for a couple of weeks. I never thought much of his wardrobe until now, but in retrospect he was wearing almost stereotypical vampire hunter garb. Black jeans, black boots, long black coat, wide-brimmed black hat. Christ, I bet he owned the Van Helsing Blu-Ray. I swore then that if I ever got the chance, I was eating Hugh Jackman’s liver. No, we don’t usually eat people, but liver’s liver, and I was pissed. I had been caught and trussed up like a Tha
nksgiving turkey by a skinny twenty-something who watched too many bad vampire movies.

  This kid was white, about twenty-three, with mousy brown hair and looked like he played too much Call of Duty instead of getting a job. His skin was paler than mine, for crying out loud, and I’m dead! His clothes hung loose on his scrawny frame, giving him a scarecrow look about him, and either had an asthma inhaler in his front pocket or was happy to see me. God, I hoped it was an inhaler.

  “Mmmm mmmmm mm mmm mmmm mm mm mm?” I asked, which was supposed to be more of a what do you want me to do type of query, but my mouth was still taped shut. The kid reached forward and ripped the tape off, taking a layer or two of skin with it. “OWWW!” I yelled, straining against my bonds. “You little rat bastard, I swear to God I am going to drink you dry and leave your body on the lawn like…like an empty bag of flesh!”

  I admit, my similes need some work.

  “I don’t think so, bloodsucker. I think you’re going to do anything I tell you to, or I’ll just leave you tied up there to starve.” He had a point there. It’s not like there were very many people who would miss a vampire, and I hadn’t yet figured out how to get loose from whatever silver-lined bonds he’d created.

  “Alright, what do you want?” I asked. Might as well find out right now if he wanted something simple or…

  “I want you to turn me,” he replied. The look of hope on his face was a little pathetic, really, but there was a determination there that was disturbing. This was not going to be easy.

  “No.” I wanted to get the short and simple part out of the way first, then we could move on to the lengthy explanations.

  “Why not?” Wow, from zero to whiny little bitch in .4 seconds. If I’d ever had any thoughts of actually turning this scrawny little zit-farm into a vamp, they would have just evaporated.

 

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