Killer Be Killed (The Frontier Book 1)

by Travis E. Hughes

  Just as they rushed downstairs, there was a party of armed men and women waiting for them in the lobby. Roslyn quickly understood another problem with stunning people versus killing them. Once stunned, they got back up after a few minutes.

  Roslyn suggested they go back upstairs to their room and figure out another way out. Talbert vetoed this by shooting first. Puff, for his part, flew upward and this distracted a few of the lynch mob enough to get them shot. She was at least happy Talbert’s gun remained in the stun setting. Though Dogg’s was clearly not. Would this be enough of a crime to bring him back to Shiva and collect their bounty? The thought was fleeting as lasers blasted the hotel lobby, burning holes in the walls and shattering the light fixtures and the paintings.

  Hattie was hit in the knee and fell. Talbert dove in front of her, scooped her up and ran up the stairs, while Roslyn covered them. She followed. Dogg stood shooting in the center of the lobby, taking down man after man. It was a blood bath.

  When it was over, Dogg stood amid his carnage, a wild look in his eye. The others came back down stairs and they walked out of the front door. The few people who remained as witness cowered and held up their hands.

  The party of five loaded their meager belongings onto the buggy. Talbert tore a sleeve off of his shirt and tied Hattie’s knee up with it.

  “Where are we headed next?” asked Roslyn from the seat behind Grace’s.

  “Well,” Dogg said with a casual smile. “I’d suggest we’ve worn out our welcome here. Perhaps another town awaits, with even more to offer?” His Annabellus accent seemed thicker than normal.

  “What direction should we shoot for, darling?” asked Grace.

  “Well, dear,” Dogg said, rolling a fresh cigarette. “When I was searching for Juice Rudabaugh, I discovered there is a boom about to happen up north of here. It seems as good a prospect as any.”

  PART TWO

  CHAPTER ONE

  “They’re calling it New Vegas,” Dogg explained as they finally reached the camp, nine hundred miles north of Phoenix City.

  “There was Old Vegas someplace?” asked Grace. The black buggy she was driving reminded Roslyn of a hearse. There was definitely something Gothic about its ornate design. Red velvet curtains lined the round windows. The windows had looked out at nothing but desert for nearly nine hours by then. Grace looked tired behind the wheel. The others had taken turns napping. But she wouldn’t let anyone else drive.

  “Yes, darling,” Dogg explained. “On Earth. Las Vegas was its name.”

  “My Dogg, he’s so smart,” she said in her thick accent. “He knows everything.”

  Onward they drove toward New Vegas. This time it was diamonds. Someone suspected a lot of them. But the discovery only happened two months before they arrived to the camp. The picking was fresh and the word was beginning to spread quickly.

  Grace used healing spray to patch up Hattie’s wounded knee. She’d walk with a limp for a few days but it would heal. It had only been a graze.

  The black buggy hummed to a stop atop a ridge overlooking the camp. Only a few Da’akwood structures, looking freshly erected, stood in the camp’s center. The rest were plastic hovels and tents. Ropes strung between fence posts marked the plans for future roads.

  One structure was a nightclub, casino. Another was the hotel. They stood across the thoroughfare from each other. Roslyn thought of Jules Divine, his brains splattered all over the boardwalk. Then she thought of Drago. The latter was still alive. What would he do without Jules? Drago was a perfect number two. But he was not cut out to be a number one.

  Would he come looking for them? Would he come looking for her? There was a strange thrill that came with the thought. She’d only stunned him, when she could have killed him. That should have counted for something, she reasoned. At least to him, who didn’t know she wasn’t allowed to kill.

  “I’d suggest we don’t all go into town together,” Talbert said, tilting his hat down over his eyes. The sun was high and very bright.

  “Wise thinking, Mr. Brown,” Dogg said, puffing a cigarette, standing next to the hover buggy, looking down into the valley. He coughed into his velvet kerchief.

  “You and Grace drive into town now and we’ll walk down slowly and get there by evening, how about?” Roslyn said, in a way that suggested she was giving an order, but politely. She had to remind herself that Dogg and Grace weren’t part of her team. They didn’t even know there was a team; the same team that was put there to bring him in to custody.

  When Dogg and Grace had left them atop the ridge in the early afternoon, Roslyn felt the need to remind her two, lovebird, and unprofessional acting partners that they were still undercover.

  “Deep cover,” said Hattie followed by a giggle. She limped along the dusty desert path. “Scrimchi.”

  “Is this funny to you?” Roslyn asked, stopped walking and turned to her, arms crossed.

  “You have to have a sense of humor, Roslyn,” Hattie said, continuing to limp past her. She’s telling me about a sense of humor? Little miss stick up her ass?

  Talbert took up the rear, head swiveling. There were going to be many familiar faces showing up to this new camp, as the word spread. They’d have to keep their eyes open for Divine’s former goons. This was yet another reason, she now understood, why Talbert used to just shoot them. Stunning them only just pisses them off.

  “Do we have enough to bring him in?” asked Roslyn a few minutes later. They kicked up a dust cloud around them. Or was that the wind? The temperature dropped with the sun.

  “I don’t think we do,” Hattie said.

  “What about you?” Roslyn asked of Talbert, who like most always was quiet and sullen; thinking, judging.

  “It was a case of justice. Jules had it coming and got what he deserved,” Talbert said with a shrug.

  “His mistake was letting her go,” Hattie offered.

  “His mistake was taking Grace in the first place,” Roslyn corrected her. “Drago knew it was a mistake and tried to fix it.”

  “Is that how it played out?” Talbert grunted.

  “I think Divine panicked when he realized we were all working on finding her. Maybe the bastard hadn’t counted on that?” Roslyn theorized.

  By the time they reached the camp, they were freezing. They all bought thick coats at the first tent that sold them.

  Roslyn hated hers because it made her look frumpy. Hattie made the frumpiness her own by playing it up for Talbert. He grinned at her, staring with those majestic blues. Roslyn felt stupid suddenly. She wasn’t sure why, but it made her sad.

  They entered the hotel and found the lobby extremely crowded. The Inn Keeper, a stern faced woman with smart goggles pulled up on her hat, rosy cheeks and a hoarse voice, was trying to yell over the din. She must have had money. Smart goggles weren’t cheap. The hotel was posh with ornate light fixtures and velvet wallpaper. Someone was gambling on this camp being the hub of a bonanza.

  “Folks! Excuse me. Folks. There are no rooms left. Sorry.” Inn Keeper was standing on a step stool in hopes of being taller. It was too loud and most people couldn’t hear her. Roslyn, though, heard and motioned for them to get the hells out of there. It was claustrophobic and she was sweating like an idiot in that thick coat. Her lower back and the top of her butt were drenched.

  The wind bit into any exposed skin as soon as they exited the hotel.

  “I’m thinking I like it better in there,” Hattie said.

  “We can’t stay at this hotel, so, that leaves us where?” Roslyn said, pacing and rubbing her hands together.

  “Buy a tent. Camp out like the rest of these greedy morons,” Talbert said.

  So they found the nearest tent that sold tents and electric heaters and nameless other camping supplies. Spending most of what was left of the budget, they set up a fairly comfortable domicile on the southern edge of the camp. It would only remain the edge for another day, before the edge, edged its way further from the center.

  “We
should probably prospect for diamonds while we’re here. Right? Make up for what we’ve had to spend and also for the future?” Roslyn said as they sat in their canvas chairs. The blue LED lamp gave off plenty of light. The electric heaters filled the tent with warmth. It felt quite cozy. The wind pounded on the outside of the tent in vain.

  “Yeah,” Talbert answered. He seemed jittery. She noticed he couldn’t sit still. He didn’t have any bug juice, she realized. How long had he gone, she wondered. Two days? He tapped his fingers and scratched his head, then his eyebrows. Extracted from a giant insect on Lynceus, bug juice was a lethal poison to native animals of its home world, but only toxic enough to us aliens to spin our heads completely around.

  Their retractable cots unfolded and made a nice triangle pattern in the middle of the tent. Roslyn went about organizing their things. She hated chaos. They placed one heater in the center of the triangle. Puff perched on the side of Roslyn’s cot, eating some kind of seeds. She wasn’t quite sure, but a woman at the next tent sold her a bag of it. She had indicated that the dragons liked them. She stroked the oddly soft skin of the dragon. The skin wasn’t scaly like a lizard but smooth like a snake.

  As they settled in to bed, Roslyn thought it but Hattie voiced it. “We’re doing a very good job of making enemies here on Danaus.”

  Roslyn didn’t like the idea of having enemies. But she knew Hattie hated it.

  “Do you think Dogg will think it’s odd that we only stun people?” asked Roslyn after a few moments in the dark. They’d turned out the lantern. Roslyn had a sleeping pill and offered it to Talbert. He was going to need it more than her. It was her last one, but she’d manage. To her surprise he took it.

  Half an hour later, he was snoring.

  Good for him.

  It was the two of them again. It reminded Roslyn of college; camping in her survival courses with Hattie.

  “What’s going on with you two assholes?” Roslyn asked.

  “What do you mean?” Hattie asked, pretending to be confused by frowning.

  “You ever hear the saying, it’s never a good idea to eat where you shit? Or is it shit where you eat? Either way, you familiar?”

  “I guess not,” Hattie smiled, leaving her mouth slightly open. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about you and Bill,” Roslyn said.

  “Oh,” Hattie said, her face dropping. “That’s none of your business.”

  “Well, actually, Hat, it is my business,” Roslyn said with large eyes. “We’re a team. So…”

  “Bill has some demons to work out, but, he’s a good person deep down,” Hattie said. “He just needs someone to look out for him, though. On the spiritual end of things.”

  “Is that so?” Roslyn said, more to stall for a fresh thought than anything. Hattie was too damn righteous for her own good. But that sparked the thought she needed to put it in terms Hattie could appreciate. “You don’t think he has some karma coming his way that maybe you should stay the hells out of the way for?”

  “We’re all serving time for the crimes of our past,” Hattie said. “Why else would we still be here?”

  “I don’t even know what that means,” Roslyn said, dead panned. This caused Hattie to giggle. She giggled until she snorted and covered her mouth.

  “You okay?” Roslyn asked.

  “Yeah,” Hattie said, catching her breath. “I’m just tired and stupid right now.”

  “Okay,” Roslyn said. “I’ll agree with that.”

  Hattie laughed again, this time without the snort. When it trailed away, it was replaced by heavy breathing.

  Roslyn’s mind was far too troubled for sleep that night. She’d planned on using the sleeping pill, but Talbert had needed it more. Since there weren’t many pharmacies around, it would be her last for a long time.

  She woke up suddenly; not realizing she’d fallen in the first place, and discovered the sun was about to rise.

  Careful not to wake the other two, she unzipped the tent and stepped out into the muddy thoroughfare. The sky was a purple bowl over her head. It was nearly peaceful. Only a scarce few moved about the camp. Fires were stoked. A lady made a loaf of bread that she planned to sell to the miners before they headed out for the day.

  A longhaired man with large sleeveless arms on a hover bike rode into the camp, slowly looking at everyone’s faces, studying them. Roslyn’s heart petered. She turned sideways first, and then completely around before he could make her.

  Then it hit her. She felt like all the blood in her body drained out of her toes. She knew him. He was from Phoenix. His hair was longer, but it was him. It was the guy Talbert knocked out for calling her a bitch. The one who tried to take their table, the night they met Dogg. Had he seen her? Trying to act casual, she stretched and went back into the tent.

  She contemplated waking Talbert first. But something stopped her. She didn’t need Devil Bill. She had this. She needed this. There followed a calm resolve rising in her chest. She wasn’t certain from where it had originated, but it guided her.

  Checking her guns’ charges, she dressed. She glanced at Hattie and nearly woke her, but decided she needed a win for herself. Was she being stupid? Being stupid got you killed. She could almost hear her father’s voice.

  She needed something. She looked around the tent. Talbert’s hat sat on the corner of his cot. Trying it, she realized it wouldn’t work because it fell down over her eyes. She went to her bag and found a scarf, which she tied over her head.

  Back outside, the cool breeze bit at her nose and ears. Snot gathered in her sinus-caves. Looking around and seeing no one paying attention, she used the farmer’s kerchief and let a wad rip down into the green mud. She used her sleeve to finish the job. She heard an ancient rock anthem playing in her head as she strode up the muddy way to its pounding beat; or was that her heart?

  Puff followed and landed on her shoulder. She stroked his turquoise beak, wishing she had a treat for him.

  She steered her body toward the camp’s heart; the few Da’akwood structures. That’s where the action was, that’s where Muscles was headed. She walked with a brisk purpose. The closer she came to the buildings the more people she encountered.

  A group of people, using robots for the hard labor, where up at the crack, building another Da’akwood structure a few lots away from the originals.

  This was next to a large canvass tent, strung up with lights. Music issued from within. This mingled with the bass mumbles and alto laughs of the crowded tent. Slot machines lit up the inside of the canvas, spilling red and blue and yellow onto the walls. Sound effects of laughter and alarms going off issued from the machines.

  Roslyn scanned the vehicles parked along the thoroughfare. No sign of Muscles’ bike. She spotted Dogg’s buggy. It was parked in the lot next to the hotel. The bastard had managed to get the last room in town.

  The lifting of a weight startled her. Her shoulder was suddenly empty. Looking up, shielding her eyes, she watched Puff alight and soar over the camp.

  The dragon made three passes over the central portion of the camp. Other species of dragons shared the air. They were smaller and ash grey with bright mohawks of red and orange.

  After the third pass, Puff landed once again on Roslyn’s shoulder. He made a clicking sound and kept pointing his head in a certain direction. Roslyn, amazed to the point of nearly tears, obliged.

  “How intelligent are you?” she asked, trying to look into the dragon’s eyes. He stared back with deep knowing. He clicked and pointed once again in the same direction.

  “Is it him? Did you find the man I’m looking for?” Roslyn asked, walking briskly in the direction Puff wanted her to.

  Nearing the second largest structure, she heard the thumping bass of the music from within the casino and slowed her approach.

  Puff, once again, lifted off of her shoulder and found a perch on the roof of the largest structure; the hotel across the street.

  Not wanting to think too m
uch about the implications of it all, she imagined somehow Puff had learned to read her mind. Or at least read the situation and understand and anticipate what she wanted him to do. It was bizarre, but extremely comforting.

  How to enter the club was her next challenge. She watched as a large man strolled in to play the slots. She imagined following him in, very closely. Letting him be her shield until she could slip behind a row of slot machines.

  But the big man had already entered before her plan was fully devised. She’d wait for another tub of lard to waddle up.

  All political correctness aside, when Roslyn saw an extremely overweight person it stirred a tinge of anger inside of her. She didn’t know why. Perhaps she’d been morbidly obese in a past life? But she saw them as weak, past life or not. She understood on a basic level that everyone had their own demons to deal with and that it was none of her business to even consider such things about another person. But being that everyone was connected, weak people brought everyone else down. That had been the prevailing philosophy during the war. She’d grown up during the war. So she blamed the war for her aversion to obese people.

  She found her chance five minutes later. A tall, stocky woman in sweat pants and sandals crossed the street en route to the casino. Roslyn hurried to get behind her. Close, but not too close as to raise attention.

  Once inside, she realized the folly of her plan, as the slots weren’t lined up the way she’d imagined them to be, like other places she’d been in. As she was realizing this, the tall woman found a video poker station and sat down.

  It took Roslyn’s eyes a second to adjust to the gloom of the club. The strobe lights and loud thumping disoriented her. When her eyes finally did adjust, Muscles stood five feet away, his back to her.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Muscles’ shoulders looked like two melons atop his tattooed arms. His broad back threatened to tear open his shirt. How Talbert had managed to knock him out with one punch impressed her, she hated to admit.