Robinson Crusoe 2245: (Book 2)

by E. J. Robinson

Suddenly, the breath on his neck no longer belonged to Boss. Gone was the country lilt, replaced by something familiar, intimate. Suddenly, it was Friday’s hand that guided him. Her breath warming his neck. Her body leaning against his.

  Robinson’s blood pressure slowed. His hand drew still. His eyes steadied. The target slowed even as the wind began to pick up.

  He pulled the trigger.

  The bullet hit the dummy in its chest and sent it bucking up and down.

  Boss clapped and stepped around him.

  “And that’s how it’s done, kid,” she said.

  “I want to do it again,” Robinson said.

  After target practice, Robinson joined the Big Hats in the saloon. He had two glasses of beer, which made him feel lightheaded and happy.

  Then a hand tapped him on the shoulder.

  “May I have this dance?” Wellie asked.

  Robinson agreed. Wellie took his hand and led him to a dance floor full of couples. The piano player worked a jaunty tune.

  “She fancies you,” Wellie said.

  “Boss?” Robinson asked.

  Wellie nodded.

  “She won’t admit it, but I see the way she watches you. She’s sweet on you.”

  “We have a business arrangement, nothing more.”

  “Everyone who comes to Cowboytown starts with a business arrangement. But once Boss gets you in that book of hers, it’s hard to get out.”

  “Is that why you do what you do?” Robinson asked.

  Wellie looked into his eyes as if deciding something.

  “My people were fishermen, lived a ways up the river. One day some savages came through and killed everyone but me. Few days later, a man in a boat pulled ashore and offered to take me some place safe. He brought me here. To Cowboytown. I was thirteen. The guy that run things before Boss gave me a choice. Work or leave. I’ve been here ever since.”

  “But what you do …”

  “There’s worse ways to live.”

  “But you deserve better.”

  Wellie’s eyes watered. She looked down so no one could see them.

  “You’re the first man who’s come to this town that didn’t see me as a piece of merchandise.”

  “I’d rather see you as a friend.”

  When the music ended, Wellie saw Boss watching them from the doorway.

  “I should get back,” she said, but paused for a moment. “For what it’s worth, I hope you find your girl. And I hope she knows how lucky she is.”

  After Wellie left, Robinson made his way outside. He was staring at the stars when Boss approached.

  “We’re moving out first thing in the morning,” Boss said. “Mox’ll go over the layout on the train. Deal is you ride into the Flayers’ village with us, but once you’re inside, our bargain is complete, and you’re on your own. If they catch you or if anyone asks, you sneaked aboard. Agreed?”

  Robinson nodded. Then he noticed something in her hands. It was a big black hat.

  “Not many fellas go for black. Not sure why. In the picture movies, the stranger always rides into town wearing one. I figured it might suit you.”

  She held it out and Robinson took it and put it on.

  “How’s it look?” he asked.

  Boss fought back a grin.

  “Not bad for a Brit.”

  Robinson knew ‘Brit’ was a word once used to describe his countrymen.

  “How long have you known?” he asked.

  “It takes more than will and a firm hand to run a town, kid. You need vision. You need to see beyond the trees and beyond the fields. Not just what’s in front of you, but what’s behind and beyond. When my predecessor was first forming this town, strangers would come from far and wide, and I used to like to ask where they come from. I’d hear tell of the big cities like Boston, Dallas, and Chicago, but the ones that interested me were always the ones people had only heard about. London was one. The Big Apple was another. Paris, Lost Vegas, the city of glass.”

  “What do you know about the city of glass?” Robinson asked, leaning forward.

  “Most say it’s myth. But I met a man once said he’d been there. Said he seen the most incredible things inside.”

  She stared at him as if considering something. Finally, she nodded. “C’mon. I want to show you something.”

  They went back to the theater, only this time it wasn’t a Western they watched, but a color picture show with sound.

  It was the story of a young man from Britain who traveled to the desert to understand the dwellers there. Through many experiences and many adventures, his life, and the lives he touched, were greatly changed. When speaking of their future, his desert companion said, “Nothing is written.”

  And Robinson thought, That’s how I feel. I’ve come to a strange land by accident, but it’s changed me. I’ve seen terrible horrors and incredible beauty. Both have shaped who I’ve become.

  Even now, on the eve of his foray into the lion’s den, hope still resided within him. That Friday was alive. That he would find her. And together, they would escape against all odds. Because no matter what the world pitted against you, men had always achieved greatness if they were brave enough to face the future head-on.

  It was true. In this world, nothing is written.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  City of the Pyramid

  The knock came just as Robinson finished dressing. He opened the door to find the leatherworker holding his new pistol belt. He wrapped it around his waist and cinched it. Then he slid his pistol into the holster.

  The craftsmanship was incredible. It was dyed black, with a small gold star in the center. Ornate stitching interwoven with a pattern made it look rough and beautiful.

  “How do you like it?” the leatherworker asked.

  “It’s amazing,” Robinson replied.

  The man beamed.

  “It’s called a Ranger Concho. Lawmen in the old west used to wear ’em, complete with the gold star. I did a split drop loop, seeing as how your pistol has that doohickey beneath it. Make it easier to pull in a pinch. Also did some barbed wire edge stamping with full tooling. Holds eighteen cartridges. The loop you requested’s there too.”

  “You’re an artist, Ser,” Robinson said. “I’m honored to wear it.”

  The man was too old to blush, but Robinson could tell the compliment meant something to him. He turned to leave but hesitated.

  “Lotta fellas out here dress the part, but you look like a real one. Cowboy that is.”

  Robinson didn’t know what to say, so he nodded. The leatherworker tapped the doorframe and left.

  Once he was gone, Robinson filled the gun belt with shells and slid his pistol into the holster. He picked up the black hat Boss had given him and put it on his head. A mirror in the corner revealed his reflection. The old guy was right. Robinson looked like a different man.

  I wonder if Tannis and Tallis would recognize me, he thought. Would I want them to?

  By the time Robinson reached the train yard, the Big Hats had loaded the bags of gunpowder onto three train cars. Still, the engine was nowhere to be seen.

  “Aren’t we missing something?” he asked Boss.

  Mox snorted.

  “That old engine you rode to the caves on is only good for short hauls,” Boss said. “I doubt it could reach the Flayer village in a month, if at all. Plus, it’s got uh …”

  Snap, snap.

  “Vulnerabilities,” Mr. Dandy said. “Which would render her incapable of rebuking attacks from other hostiles.”

  Boss nodded to Mox. He put two fingers into his mouth and let loose a loud, screaming whistle.

  At the far end of the yard, a smokestack plumed to life, the sound of its engine hungry and strong.

  When it finally emerged, Robinson’s breath caught in his chest. The engine was nearly twice as large as the one he’d ridden on before. And this one was seriously fortified. The main body was covered in plates of metal, made up from ancient cars and signs that read: We
lcome to Nashville, Coca-Cola, FedEx, and something called Geek Squad.

  The top was reinforced with the frame of an ancient yellow bus, creating slots through which a defense could be mounted.

  At the front of the engine, someone had welded on two I-beams with sewer plates on the end of them. This ride wouldn’t be stopping for any impediments.

  “Impressive,” Robinson said.

  “Yes, it is,” Boss said. “I see you got your rig.”

  Robinson ran his hands over his smooth leather belt.

  “He did a fine job.”

  “Looks like something’s missing, though.”

  Boss signaled a Big Hat, who handed over a wrapped package.

  Robinson was smiling before he opened it.

  “I was hoping I’d see this again,” he said as his axe came into view. Then he slipped it perfectly into its gap-mouthed loop on his belt.

  “What’s that thing there?” Mox asked. “On the heel of your gun?”

  On the butt of the automatic pistol was a shiny piece of plastic with black material beneath.

  “I layered a piece of silicon behind plastic and metal. When the sun hits it, this acts as a conductor, which creates an electric field.”

  “Who in the hell’d want electricity on a gun?” Mox scoffed.

  Robinson pulled the pistol and pointed it toward Mox. He fingered a switch, and a red laser sighting appeared over Mox’s heart.

  “You were saying?” Robinson asked.

  Boss and the Big Hats laughed, but Mox was broiling.

  “When we get back here,” Boss said, “you’ll have to make a few of those for me.”

  “I’m sure we can come to some kind of arrangement,” Robinson said.

  Boss and Mr. Dandy rode up with Clawfoot in the cab. Robinson and the Big Hats rode in the first car. As the train got underway, they slid the door closed. Robinson turned to find Mox standing behind him.

  “Been waiting to get you in a room alone,” Mox said.

  “I guess Wellie was right about you. Suppose that’s why she charges you double.”

  Mox lurched for him, howling.

  Some hours later, the train stopped so they could clear a fallen tree from the tracks. Boss got her first look at Mox, beaten and bloody, and Robinson, who didn’t have a scratch on him.

  “What happened to him?” she asked.

  “He fell,” Robinson said.

  Boss smirked. She took a piece of paper from her vest and handed it to Robinson. He unfolded it.

  “This is a map of the Flayers’ village. This enclosure is where they keep the prisoners. But if you’re right about your girl being special to this …”

  Snap, snap.

  “Arga’Zul,” Robinson said.

  “Then he’s probably keeping her in the pyramid. That’s where Baras’Oot and most of his big shots live. I don’t know how long it’ll take us to unload the gunpowder and take possession of the provisions, but I’d estimate you got an hour, hour-and-a-half to get your business done. If you can make it back without being seen, we’ll smuggle you both out. If you can’t …”

  “I’m on my own,” he said.

  Boss nodded.

  “What are you getting in return?” Robinson asked.

  Boss looked over his shoulder to make sure the Big Hats weren’t listening.

  “Food,” she said. “Merchants are growing scarce on the river. Everyone sells to the Flayers. But I got to do what I can to keep my town running. Plus, Baras’Oot says he might be open to us working transportation.”

  “You trust him?”

  “I don’t trust no one, Kid. You know that. But so far, he’s kept the ledger clean.”

  Robinson nodded toward the gunpowder.

  “With this, he could wipe you out.”

  “He doesn’t need gunpowder to do that. But then he’d be out of a manufacturer. Better this way for both of us.”

  “Then why so many guns?” Robinson asked.

  “A gal likes to cover her bets,” she said.

  They both smiled and turned to look out at the passing forest.

  “They say it’s going to be a cold winter. If you find your girl—when you find her—you can always come back. Cowboytown can use a man who knows how to lead.”

  “I appreciate the offer and the help,” he said.

  “It’s not help,” Boss said. “We made a deal. Once you step off this train, the ledger’s even. If you get caught or don’t make it back before the whistle blows, you’re on your own.”

  “I understand,” Robinson said.

  They watched the sun dip behind the mountain, painting the valley in fuchsias and gold. It was quite a sight, but they both knew the real show was only about to begin.

  Arga’Zul walked the parade grounds ordering his men into position. The bazaar was already teeming with merchants and traders from all over the south. Business was prosperous, but only one transaction would make this night a success.

  When the whistle sounded and the train’s single eye appeared through the trees, Arga’Zul knew his time had come.

  The crowd of the bazaar ‘oohed and aahed’ as the giant train slowed. The shuddering engine shook the ground, and more than a few people shrieked when the brakes erupted in sparks as it screamed to a halt.

  A door at the rear of the engine opened, and a wave of Big Hats flooded out, rifles in hand. They took up position atop the train and on the ground.

  Boss appeared, looking otherworldly with her white outfit and silver guns.

  She looked out over the fray and was overwhelmed by the number of Bone Flayer warriors standing in formation.

  Arga’Zul approached, and Boss put on her bravest front.

  “Arga’Zul, Mighty Chieftain of the Bone Flayer Army,” Boss said. “Thank you for welcoming me to your home.”

  “Your train impresses me,” he said. “It is almost as intimidating as one of my ships.”

  “But not half as fast,” Boss said graciously.

  “I need wind and you need rails. We both have our disadvantages.”

  “And yet here we are. Partners and stronger for it.”

  Arga’Zul smiled thinly.

  “You have brought the gunpowder?” he asked.

  Boss turned and whistled. The first car door slid open, and one of the Big Hats grabbed a single bag of gunpowder and delivered it to Arga’Zul.

  He drew a long, curved blade and cut through the burlap bag, retracting a blade tipped with powder. One of his Flayers stepped up with a torch and set it to the blade. A flash of smoke and light drew cheers from the crowd.

  Arga’Zul nodded, and Boss signaled Mr. Dandy, who whistled. The remaining car doors opened and the offloading began.

  Robinson slipped down and began helping stack the gunpowder bags on carts provided by the Flayers. He waited for an opening before slipping off into the crowd.

  As Robinson worked his way through the glut of people, he saw all manner of things, from strange livestock to the frames of dismantled war machines. Then, the great pyramid came into view. He was both awed by it and demoralized by the legion of Flayers standing guard around it.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The Fête

  From a small window in the pyramid, Friday watched the Flayer army move out to meet the train. She knew the two guards posted outside her door had been warned not to underestimate her size or skill, so escape would be difficult. She realized she needed an accomplice. It came when the old woman returned to the room. Friday waited for the door to close before pulling her close.

  “Grandmother, I must ask a favor of you.”

  The old woman stared at her with weary eyes.

  “It is time, then?” she asked.

  Friday nodded.

  “I must escape while the Flayers are distracted. It is my only chance.”

  “Many have tried,” the old woman said. “Most have failed. Are you willing to give your life for your freedom?”

  Friday assured her she was.

&nbs
p; “It may mean my life too,” the old woman said.

  “I do not take such a thing lightly. But women like us, we are not meant to be caged. We were born of trees and wind. We should die among them, or at least within their sight.”

  The old woman took a heavy breath and nodded.

  “Tell me what you would have me do.”

  Outside, Robinson circled the pyramid, finding his best chance at ingress was a small door near the back of the structure, protected by only two guards. He worked his way back behind a cement barrier and drew his axe, scraping its toe across the ground. The sound echoed in the darkness. After a moment, one of the guards made his way toward him.

  Robinson drifted into the shadows and waited for the man’s approach. His companion called out and was answered with an impatient wave. Slowly, the guard appeared and scouted the area before turning back. Only then did Robinson make his move.

  He cleared the distance in a few steps, striking the guard across the back of the head with his axe. Unfortunately, his spear clattered to the ground, prompting the second guard to call out again.

  Rather than pull back, Robinson charged, hurling his axe at the surprised Flayer before he could act. His aim was true. The man died before he hit the ground.

  After dragging both bodies into the bushes, Robinson entered the pyramid.

  For Friday, the waiting was interminable, but eventually, she heard the old woman return and offer her guards something from a tray of liquor she claimed was from the fête. Friday listened as the liquid was poured and the men laughed. Then she heard the sounds of retching and one man falling.

  Friday threw the door open to see the second guard with his hand around the old woman’s neck. She scooped up his claymore and hacked his arm off. An arterial spray splashed over the walls as the man screamed, but Friday silenced him quickly.

  Friday knelt in front of the old woman.

  “Can you breathe?” she asked. The woman nodded. “Then go inside. Tell them I did this to you. Understand?”

  The woman nodded again. Friday was heading down the hall when the old woman called out. “Child? When you hear the wind through the trees, think of me.”