by John Bowers
Hugh stepped out the front door of the Marshal’s office and took a deep breath of the cool, fresh mountain air. He was a small-town boy and loved his small town. The air was scented by pine needles and wood smoke; a feeling of contentment washed over him as he stood there looking up and down the street. Things were peaceful, and he loved that. He well remembered when things had been anything but peaceful, and that was one of the reasons he was so excited about working for Nick.
Hugh had been a boy of fourteen when the Rebel Coalition closed in on Trimmer Springs. He’d seen the Star Marines pouring into town, some in hovercraft, others on foot. He’d seen them scrambling to set up defensive positions, remembered the bark of orders from leather-lunged noncoms. Shells were already singing overhead by then, and urgency was in the air. Hugh’s mother had dragged him into the basement just before the artillery began in earnest, and their house had been hit several times.
It had been a long day and a longer night as they cowered beneath the house, listening to the shell fire—hellfire, his mother had called it—and wondering if the Star Marines could hold.
The following morning, the rebels had made their move. Hugh’s house was only four blocks from the church, and throughout the day that single rifle in the bell tower had done its deadly work. There were other weapons as well, assault rifles and automatic fire mingled with incoming artillery; the bell had rung constantly, a flat, uneven sound cause by bullet strikes—but the crack of that rifle had cut through it all. Hour after hour, round after round, the sharp report echoed across the town, all day and all night. Then, finally, a relief column had arrived, the rebels pulled back, and the citizens began to emerge.
Hugh still remembered staring at the bell tower above the church. It had been chewed and splintered by rebel fire, but that Star Marine was still up there, badly wounded, sniper rifle in hand. The fighting was over, and Hugh was watching when the medics brought him down on a hover stretcher. Back then Hugh hadn’t known his name, but everyone on the street knew what he had done. The word spread in hushed tones that he, whoever he was, had held off the rebels almost single-handedly. The east end of town was littered with rebel bodies, and dozens more had crawled away to die.
The rebellion had ended soon after that. As the town was being rebuilt, the statue had gone up in the park. That was when Hugh learned the name of the man in the bell tower for the first time.
Private first class Nick Walker, Echo Company, 33rd Star Marines.
And now he was back to take over the U.F. Marshal’s office.
And Hugh was working for him.
What a thrill!
Hugh took another deep breath and turned his eyes toward the bell tower. It was only two blocks from where he stood, and dominated the town in every direction. He stared at it a moment, and his eyes narrowed a little in surprise. For just a moment he thought he saw movement up there, but couldn’t be sure. He took a couple of steps toward the edge of the sidewalk, pulled his hat brim down to shade his eyes, and took a closer look.
He saw the flash just a second before he felt the pain. The bullet hit him an inch above the heart and exploded out the center of his spine, punching him backward with an audible oof! He hit the sidewalk hard, his cowboy hat rolling away to settle in front of the office door. Just that quickly the pain was gone, and Hugh Povar didn’t even hear the crack of the rifle that killed him.
Bounty Hunters at Skinner Flats
Nick Walker #4
Coming 2013
Thursday, March 22, 0445 – Camarrell – Alpha Centauri 2
Twin suns glinted off the skytower across the street, casting late afternoon shadows in two directions. The street was full of cops, two or three dozen, and three hover cruisers were stacked at different altitudes above the scene, their over-under lights flashing and laser rifles glowing orange. A police spokesman in an armored suit stood in the middle of the street, talking through a body-blaster.
The suspect was cornered. He had no chance of escape and knew it, but wasn’t ready to accept it yet. The cops had time on their side except for one thing—the female hostage. The gunman was crouched between two parked surface cars, holding the woman in front of him with his left arm around her neck. His pistol was jammed against the side of her head and he was almost as terrified as she was.
“Put your weapon down!” the spokesman said in a clear, patient voice. “Right now it’s only a robbery, you’ll be out in ten years. If you kill her—”
“Back off!” the gunman screamed. “If you shoot me, my gun will go off! I’m warning you!”
Panicked as he was, the gunman was too smart to point his gun at the police. The snipers would take him down the moment he removed it from the woman’s head. The cops moved in slowly, carefully, covering him from every possible angle. The spokesman continued talking in a calm voice, as if to a child.
“Come on, Edgar, what do you think this will accomplish? We can’t let you go, and you know that. Think about your mother, man…what’s she gonna do when she hears about this? You think she wants to bury her only son?”
“Leave her out of it! You hear me? Shut your filthy mouth!” A sob followed the outburst.
“You’re too young to die, Edgar.”
“If I die, she dies! You just stay back!”
The gunman, barely seventeen years old, began inching back toward the building where he had taken the hostage, keeping the gun tight against her head. The woman, a middle-aged housewife who’d had the bad luck to walk past the scene of the robbery at the wrong moment, sobbed in fear and tried to stay on her feet as he pulled her backward.
“Freeze!” Two cops on the sidewalk had him flanked, one from each direction. Their laser rifles were pointed straight at his head.
“Back off!” he panted, sweat sliding down his face. “I’ll kill her by reflex! I swear I will!”
From a rooftop across the street a holo-news car lifted off and positioned itself above the police cruisers, giving its camera a wide angle of the action. Neither the cops nor the kid paid the slightest bit of attention. The spokesman continued talking in a conciliatory tone, reminding Edgar of all he had to live for. Edgar remained on the sidewalk with his hostage, stalemated.
It was starting to look like a very long afternoon.
* * *
Nick Walker saw the flashing lights from six blocks away and turned his hovercar in that direction. He’d arrived in Camarrell just minutes earlier, letting his GPS AI guide him to his destination. But flashing lights and hovering police cruisers were too good to pass up—something was going on and he had to see it for himself.
He set down a block away, just outside the barricade manned by uniformed officers. He stepped out of the car onto the sidewalk, gazing in the direction of all the excitement. He could hear the police spokesman’s body-blaster clearly. His adrenaline level rose a little and he started walking toward the commotion.
“Sorry, sir, you have to stand back. This is a restricted area.”
Nick glanced at the young cop who barred his way. A rookie, he guessed, less than a year on the job. Still afraid of everything and uncertain of his own authority. It was in his eyes. Without a word he lifted his right hand and showed the officer what was in it. The kid’s eyes widened slightly; he looked Nick up and down, noting the twin holsters on his gun belt. He nodded reluctantly.
“Okay. I guess it’s okay.”
Nick winked at him and walked on past. As he ducked under the barricade, he pushed his western-style hat down over his wavy brown hair and walked resolutely forward at a steady pace, in no hurry. They probably didn’t need him up there, but he would be available anyway. Whether they needed him or not, it was police action, and he wanted to see it.
Half a block from the scene, he drew both guns from his holsters and switched them, leaving the laser pistol on the left side and placing the .44 on his right. He didn’t expect to have to shoot anybody, but if it came to intimidation, the .44 was a hell of a lot scarier.
By the tim
e he reached the scene, it was pretty clear that neither side was going to prevail. Nick stopped just behind the rifleman on the sidewalk, watching and listening. He could hear the woman sobbing, and the kid was practically sobbing, too. Nick could hear his harsh breathing as he waited, trembling, looking for a way out.
Nick touched the cop with the rifle on the shoulder.
The cop jumped in panic and swung the rifle toward him, then caught his breath as he saw what Nick held in his right hand.
“Jesus, God! You nearly got yourself shot! Who the hell are you?”
“Stand down,” Nick said quietly. “I got this.”
He didn’t give the cop a chance to form a reply, but walked on past him, his attention focused on the suspect. Behind him the cop was talking to his superiors on his implant. The second sidewalk cop, who had flanked the suspect from the other side, was glaring at Nick in consternation, his rifle still aimed at the kid.
“Hey, you! Get the fuck outta here! Who do you think you are, Yancy West?”
Nick didn’t reply, but held up his hand for the cop to see what it held. He subsided in confusion, but didn’t lower his rifle. Nick approached the suspect, his attention riveted, but the challenges just kept coming. The officer in the street with the body-blaster weighed in.
“Hey! Get that goddamn cowboy out of there! Schumaker! Take that man into custody!”
“He has a badge, sir,” Schumaker replied.
“To hell with his badge! A badge doesn’t mean anything—my kid’s got a badge—get him out of there!”
But Schumaker, the man Nick had tapped on the shoulder, wasn’t so sure.
“He’s a Federation officer, sir!”
Nick let them discuss it while he closed in on the suspect. The kid with the gun was staring at him with hollow eyes, sweat dripping off his chin. Nick saw desperation in those eyes and knew exactly how he felt. He drew the .44 and aimed it directly at the kid’s face.
“Let the woman go,” he said in a cold voice.
Panting hard, the kid swallowed. “No way, man. If I let her go they’re gonna kill me!”
“No, they won’t kill you. But I will.”
The kid was trembling so hard he was choking the woman. Nick heard her gagging for air.
“Let her go or you both die.”
“You back off! I’ll shoot her if you don’t!”
Nick smiled slowly, looking as evil as he knew how. “Promise?”
The kid blinked. “What?”
“I said, promise me you’re going to kill her.”
“What—why would you want me to do that?”
“Because I can’t legally kill you unless you do.”
“You—you mean, you want me to shoot her?”
Nick nodded eagerly. “Oh, yeah, I really do. Then I can blow your head into tomato soup. I haven’t killed anybody in a couple of weeks, and I’m getting edgy. The minute you shoot her, I can kill you and nobody will care.”
A yellow puddle began to spread around the suspect’s feet. His voice became even more ragged.
“You’re crazy, man! You’re fucking crazy!”
Nick licked his lips like a starving man looking at food. He tightened his grip on the .44 and pulled the hammer back with an audible cricket sound. He shook his head.
“Naw, not crazy, just desperate. I really need to do this, so please, go ahead. Shoot the woman.”
Nick’s gun began to tremble, as if he were desperately trying to control himself.
The kid stared at him another ten seconds, every other consideration forgotten. The puddle of piss continued to spread across the sidewalk.
“Please!” Nick repeated. “Do it. Shoot her! Give me a legal excuse.”
“Get the fuck away from me, man! Hey!” The kid glanced over his shoulder. “Somebody shoot this guy! Help me out here!”
Nick edged closer to the kid, his whole body shivering.
“I can’t wait much longer! If you don’t do something, I’m just gonna fire, even if I hit the woman too.”
But the kid was shaking his head. “Go away, will you? The cops are handling it! Let them do their job!”
Nick laughed. “That’s pretty funny, coming from you. You said they were gonna kill you. Now go ahead and shoot.”
“No. Fuck you, I ain’t gonna do it.”
“You got to, man. I have to have justification.”
“You’re crazy! I swear to god, you’re nuts!”
Nick wiped his face with his left hand. His gun hand continued to tremble.
“I can’t wait much longer. You gotta make your move.”
The kid swiveled his head to look at the cop behind him, then the one in the street. They were both staring in dumb fascination, afraid to intervene in case they triggered a killing. He looked at Nick again, at the raw hunger in those dark brown eyes.
Table of Contents
A Mystery
Don’t miss these great books by John Bowers
Asteroid OutpostNick Walker, U.F. MarshalJohn BowersAKW BooksWashington
An AKW Books
For Byker Bob. May the flatus be with you…always.Chapter 1Sunday, August 4, 0440 (Colonial Calendar) ...
Chapter 1Sunday, August 4, 0440 (Colonial Calendar) - The A Terminal - Ceres
Chapter 2Monday, August 5, 0440 (CC) - Government Annex - Ceres
Chapter 3Centerville - Ceres
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10The Outer Orbit – Caribou Lake
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14Government Annex - Ceres
Chapter 15Thursday, August 8, 0440 (CC) — Government Annex - Ceres“Morning, Walker.”
Chapter 16
Chapter 17Farrington Industries - Ceres
Chapter 18Government Annex - Ceres
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21Centerville - Ceres
Chapter 22Government Annex - Ceres
Chapter 23East Village - Ceres
Chapter 24
Chapter 25Government Annex - Ceres
Chapter 26“Jesus Christ!
Chapter 27System Springs - Ceres
Chapter 28The Open Airlock - Ceres
Chapter 29Farrington Industries - Ceres
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32Sunday, August 11, 0440 (CC) — System Springs - Ceres
Chapter 33Government Annex - Ceres
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Thank You
About the AuthorJohn Bowers
Sirian SummerNick Walker #2
Rebel Guns of Alpha CentauriNick Walker #3
Bounty Hunters at Skinner FlatsNick Walker #4Coming 2013Thursday, March 22, 0445 – Camarrell – Alpha ...