Killer Be Killed

by Travis E. Hughes

  “Yup. Primarily looking for my sister and my niece, but a big chunk of gold would do more than cover our losses so far,” Talbert said, producing the hologram image of a woman and a child. Roslyn stiffened. Who were those people, she wondered?

  “I see,” Dogg said, turning his dark eyes to her. “You’re the brains of the operation and he’s the muscle. That’s just our arrangement, isn’t it, darling?”

  Grace laughed and ordered another drink for Dogg. She pointed to Hattie, who declined politely.

  “She doesn’t drink much,” Talbert explained. “She’s our moral compass. Our Goody-Two-Shoes. She worships the Birds.”

  “Oh well, it is always good to have one of those on hand, I suppose,” Dogg said, finishing his whiskey just as a new one arrived. The android waiter leaned forward upon delivery.

  “Drinks are on Jules tonight, sir. I’ll respect your privacy and not announce your presence. But he welcomes you back to town.”

  “Is he here?” Dogg squinted and looked around.

  “No, sir, but he was informed you are dining with us tonight. Welcome back to Phoenix City.” The android sauntered away.

  “I see you’re a bug juice man, Mr. Brown,” said Dogg.

  “Just on special occasions,” said Talbert, taking a sip of the florescent green liquid. Roslyn and Hattie exchanged a glance.

  Grace laughed and clung to Dogg’s arm with both hands.

  Roslyn decided she didn’t much care for the drunk Grace and finally realized why she’d earned the nickname Graceless. She was hilarious, but a bit much. She worshipped her Dogg Holly, though. The poor thing was smitten beyond conviction.

  “Well, I have enjoyed our little dinner party, tonight, but you’ll have to excuse me, I’m riding one hell of a streak.” Dogg stood and as if she was a little trained puppy, Graceless stood as well, and followed him out.

  Roslyn paid the entire tab, which pained her, but it was the right move. She then left Talbert at the bar to make for her bed.

  She was surprised that Hattie didn’t follow her. What the hells was she doing? Crossing the road, she turned and looked back at the restaurant. She waited. Seriously?

  After the sensation of feeling stupid had climaxed, she returned to the room alone. She tried desperately to tune in to a signal from thirty-five years in Earth’s past. She watched a fuzzy, glitchy movie made two hundred years ago. It was so strange how different the world had become. She tried to fall asleep but kept waiting on Hattie and Talbert to return.

  She woke abruptly. The lights were on. The hologram movie station played pieces of a film between fuzz. She was still the sole occupant of the room. What time was it? Two hours had passed and still they were out.

  Just when she was about to get out of bed, throw on some clothes and go searching for them, the door swung open and in walked Talbert carrying Hattie. The idiot girl sang some random tune, head swaying. “Scrimchi!”

  “What the hells is going on?” Roslyn asked, sitting up in bed.

  “I’m sorry, Ros,” Hattie said, trying not to laugh. “I don’t know what went wrong.”

  “Okay,” Roslyn condescended. “Drink some water.”

  Roslyn fetched a bottle of water and handed it to Hattie, who laughed at her for no apparent reason. That snake in the grass, son-of-a-bitch Devil Bill. He had planted the seed at dinner. The crafty old rogue had gotten all dolled up for Hattie. He had a thing for her. Of course he did. Who didn’t?

  Roslyn needed some time with this one. The mole was digging. Was she now the third wheel? No. Hattie had fallen victim to a cunning skirt chaser. Luckily she was on hand to thwart his efforts.

  The next morning Roslyn rose with the sun. Hattie and Tablet slept off hang-overs while she quietly dressed, checked her gun, and slipped out of the room.

  The town seemed oddly empty. A few folks passed, some up to exercise or fetch coffee. There were a few still out from the night, riding hot streaks until well past dawn. Roslyn passed a club door that was left open to let in some morning light. Dogg sat, looking like a pale zombie, slouched over a hand of cards, small cigarette dangling from his mouth. She didn’t notice Grace, but she assured herself that Big-Eyes was near at hand.

  Clearing the last tent, the last club out of town, Roslyn looked back at the litter and filth already piled up in the gutters. Humans were disgusting, she thought. The tent club had three customers inside. The frame of the permanent club was up behind the tent. The wood of Danaus was more like vegetable stalks than wood on Earth. It was lighter weight, but more flexible and sturdy. Roslyn figured the trees didn’t run fast enough to get away from mankind. Poor bastards.

  The landscape was mostly desert, red rocks rising to mountains. There were clumps of vegetation that bearded a river. Roslyn made for it.

  She reached the roaring river when the sun was well up in the sky and hot on her back. Clumsy thumbs made a loose ponytail. Her back was drenched. As she came to it, she contemplated jumping into the yellow water.

  She double-checked that her pistol was set to stun. Then she crouched and skulked through the underbrush. A walking stick climbed down a tree and hurried up another.

  Nature, of all kinds, gave her peace and energy. This was communing with the universe, in it’s truest form. She’d adjusted to the organic fragrances finally. To the point of actually finding peace in their varied aromas.

  Out here she could focus her mind. It zoomed in on Dogg Holly. She then searched her training for procedures or examples of what to do in this situation.

  She froze. A pigmy dragon swooped down onto a limb, not ten feet from her. They stared at each other.

  It was odd. But she realized the animals on this planet didn’t evolve with man. They had no idea about our reputation. Why would they fear us?

  The pigmy dragon blinked. She blinked. It’s smooth skin shone between a turquoise hue and a dark blue with red spots. It was roughly the size of a crow.

  “Hello,” said Roslyn in a soft tone.

  The pigmy dragon tilted its head to the side and blinked. Roslyn laughed softly. Suddenly a laser blast smoked the top of its wing.

  Roslyn, gun raised, spun and aimed straight at Drago. He aimed at her.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Whoa, now, easy, Roslyn,” Drago said, holding his other hand out. She dropped her aim and he followed.

  “Why did you shoot that dragon?” she demanded. The animal had fallen from the limb and Roslyn knelt down to it. It was trembling.

  “I was hunting. What were you doing?” he asked.

  “You hunt these animals to kill them?” she demanded.

  “Were you not hunting? Your gun was out,” he insisted.

  “My gun’s on stun. That’s the sport. The other way is nothing but cold hearted shit.” She wanted to aim at him again, but chose the higher road.

  “Okay, clearly you’ve never eaten one of these dragons deep fried,” said Drago. “Where do you think I got my name?”

  “Please stop,” Roslyn said, cradling the dragon. She found her healing spray in her bag and cauterized and then bandaged the wound. The dragon blinked up at her with the most grateful of expressions.

  “I’m going to take you back to my hotel and look out for you until you’re all better, okay?” Roslyn said slowly to the dragon.

  “Look at you,” Drago said, following her as she carried the dragon back toward the town. “You’re all sweet and kind and shit. You’ll never make it out here, girly. This isn’t Earth any more.”

  “You know what? I’m getting real tired of people saying that shit to me. Yeah? Okay. Well, I’m a quick study.”

  Drago laughed, but she didn’t think it was funny. Her glare extinguished his ebullience.

  “Better watch your ass,” she said.

  Drago nodded and grinned. “I bet you’re a real pistol.”

  “Excuse me?” she said, hand on her holstered side arm.

  “Elvis, everything doesn’t need to be a shoot out,” he said. “Chill. God…
damn.”

  “Don’t tell me to relax,” she said.

  “I said chill,” he corrected. There was something playful in his grin. It had an impact and she let it lie.

  “So you like to hunt?” said Drago. “Granted with a stun gun. But, one could suggest hunting with a camera would be just as humane, if not more so, than, hunting with a stun gun. Because it still hurts the animals when you stun them and it interferes with their natural way of life.”

  “That’s actually a good point,” she said. “I know you’re trying to be a smart ass, but point taken, dude.”

  Yeah?” Drago smiled.

  “If you can come up with that, why would you still be trying to kill them?” she asked. He walked on in silence for a long while, pondering the question.

  “Because, that’s the way we’ve always done it. The same as eating meat on Earth. You justify it, I guess, because you need meat to survive,” he said, looking like a cat with a canary down his throat, about to hiccup yellow feathers.

  “Yeah. Whatever,” she said. She wasn’t in the mood for a philosophical debate. “I don’t know.”

  “It’s part of it,” he said.

  “Whatever,” she answered, hoping he’d take the hint and leave her alone.

  “I’m sorry I shot your dragon,” he said after a few dusty steps in silence.

  “It’s not my dragon. I don’t own it. I’m just going to nurse it back to health. Though, really, for karma’s sake, you should do it. But I don’t trust your ass to do it properly and so I’m just going to do it.”

  “Do you want me to take the thing? Will that, like prove I’m a good person?” asked Drago.

  “But you’re not a good person,” she said before thinking. “You called it a thing. Seriously?”

  “Do you even know if it’s a boy or a girl?” he asked.

  “No,” she said, trying to peek at the animal’s mid section.

  “If you can’t call it he or she, you call it thing,” he shrugged. “Right?”

  “Don’t be an asshole.”

  “An asshole for what?” he asked.

  “Can we be done talking about this?” she pleaded.

  “Fine by me,” he said and spat. The rest of the trip passed in silence save the natural wonders of planet Danaus. They parted ways on First Street.

  *

  Talbert snored, face down on his pallet. Hattie showered. She sang some ancient Earth song.

  “What do you eat?” asked Roslyn of the dragon as it found a perch on the bedpost.

  Talbert rolled over and blinked open one eye to look at the dragon. He grunted and shook his head.

  “What?” asked Roslyn. “There’s no policy against pets in this flea bag hotel. The lady in 4C has two little dogs.”

  “But that’s a goddamn wild animal,” Talbert said.

  “I don’t know. It seems…” she looked at the dragon. “Intelligent.”

  “I hear they taste like spicy prime rib,” said Talbert. “People deep fry them. That guy at the Golden Jewel, what’s his ass, was talking about it.”

  “Drago?” asked Roslyn, rolling her eyes.

  “Thinks he’s a tough guy?” Talbert sat and after letting his head stop spinning, slowly crawled to his feet. He was shirtless and Roslyn was amazed at his lean, ropey, muscular body. There couldn’t have been an ounce of extra body fat. She forced herself to look away.

  Hattie stepped out of the bathroom, wearing a towel on her head and a robe. “What the what?”

  “Your buddy brought us home a pet. That or dinner, we’re debating it now,” Talbert said, buttoning his shirt.

  “There’s no debate,” she said.

  “I don’t know what it’s going to do while we work our case?” Talbert said. He stepped past Hattie, who grinned and stepped aside. Talbert splashed his face with water from the bathroom sink.

  “How you feeling, kiddo?” asked Talbert, drying his face.

  “I have a headache and my stomach is nauseous but other than that, tip top,” Hattie said in her chipper voice.

  Roslyn stared at the dragon, perched on the post, its head pivoting back and forth between speakers, as if it were following the conversation. Surely not. Just the noise. Roslyn approached it and knelt slightly to eye level.

  “You need a name,” said she. “How about Puff? Puff the Magic Dragon.”

  It was an ancient song she’d loved as a child.

  “How about breakfast?” Talbert suggested. Roslyn glared at him. “I don’t mean the dragon. I mean us. How about we get some breakfast.”

  “Are you trying to be funny? Cause…” Roslyn said and turned back to her dragon.

  “Not working?” he suggested.

  “Hardly,” Roslyn said, raising her shoulders.

  “What?” Hattie tilted her head to the side and frowned. Roslyn glanced back at Talbert. He certainly was in a chipper mood this morning. Did more happen last night than she’d imagined?

  She’d need to have a discussion with both of them about professionalism in the work place.

  At breakfast, Hattie pushed around her eggs and hash. Her stomach roiled. It was loud. Roslyn tried not to laugh. But the second time it happened, she couldn’t help it.

  “Hey, you see who that is?” Talbert nodded toward the door. He always sat facing the door. Roslyn twisted to see a tall man in a nice suit.

  “Who is that?” asked Hattie.

  “He’s our competition,” Talbert explained and lowered his hat. To go under cover, Talbert had shaved his mustache. That was the only major transformation he’d undergone. He hadn’t been on Danaus in ten years. He hadn’t been cautious enough to factor a fellow private investigator into the equation.

  “That’s Earl Wyatt,” Talbert explained. “He’s an independent contractor.”

  “Is he going to blow our cover?” asked Roslyn.

  “Well, the question comes down to professional courtesy,” he said.

  “But if he too is under cover?” Roslyn said hopefully.

  “Yeah, but the problem is, Wyatt doesn’t prefer to go under cover. He’s just that good. He usually works security as well as bounty hunting. They call him the sheriff. Not to his face.”

  “Shit. So he has nothing to lose by exposing us,” Roslyn said, leering at him ordering a coffee. Talbert lowered his head so the brim covered his face.

  “I don’t think…. Okay, good. He’s taking his coffee outside to take in the… Nope. He’s coming our way,” Roslyn said.

  “Mind if I join you?” asked Wyatt, standing properly, back straight, holding a cup of steaming coffee. His hard face held sullen and stoic. There was a cold confidence in his posture.

  Talbert slowly looked up at him, his face appearing by degrees.

  Wyatt took it as a yes and pulled a chair up to their table.

  “I told you they can always pull a chair up,” Talbert said to Roslyn.

  “I’ll tell you mine, if you tell me yours,” Wyatt said, putting his coffee cup on the table. “That way we can stay out of each other’s way.”

  “We aren’t going to tell you ours. But you can go ahead and tell us yours and if its a conflict of interest I’ll let you know,” Roslyn said before Talbert could answer.

  “Who’s this?” Wyatt asked, nodding toward Roslyn. “New boss?”

  “Roslyn Fink,” Talbert said. “Meet Earl Wyatt.”

  “Fink? I see,” Wyatt cleared his throat to avoid a laugh. This enraged Roslyn.

  “I’m looking for Juice Rudabaugh. I don’t need to hide that fact. Give him up or something bad’s going to happen. That’s how I work. Plain and simple. Am I right?” Wyatt explained and shrugged. He leaned forward and took a sip of coffee.

  “Then we don’t have a problem,” Talbert said, before Roslyn could.

  “He’s part of the gambling circuit, figured Phoenix City’s red hot right now,” Wyatt said.

  “I wonder if Dogg knows him?” Hattie suggested.

  “Who’s that?” Wyatt asked.

/>   “Dogg Holly’s in town. Among other notable folks,” Talbert said.

  “Do you know him? You referred to him kinda casually,” Wyatt asked.

  “We’ve had dinner,” Roslyn said. “As a dinner party.”

  “Any way you’d set up an interview?” Wyatt asked with a grin. “I’d owe you.”

  Roslyn looked at Talbert, who shrugged.

  “I’ll see what I can do. I mean, I am pretty good friends with his lady, Grace, actually, so…” said Roslyn coolly. She immediately grew self-conscious. What was she babbling on about?

  The meeting was arranged for the following Third Day. They arranged to meet at a poker table in the Golden Jewel, just before a new table was to be opened. They were to appear to meet and play for a bit and then have drinks in the lounge after. Why the stealth, Roslyn wasn’t sure, but it seemed well advised.

  Talbert, Roslyn and Hattie had to be involved to help fill the entire poker table.

  “Juice Rudabaugh?” Dogg chuckled but it turned into a cough. “I know that numb-nuts, yes. Most men are afraid of him.”

  “But not you?” asked Wyatt.

  “My Dogg’s not afraid of anyone, isn’t that right, lover?” Grace said, throwing her arm around her man. Roslyn tried not to roll her eyes.

  “I’m curious, Mr. Wyatt,” said Dogg, leaning back. “What’s the juice on Juice?”

  Grace laughed loudly. Roslyn shook her head.

  “He robbed a couple freights out of Athena and one out of Danaus. Montgomery City down south in Annabellus,” Wyatt explained. “Company’s offering fifty K.”

  “What percentage would that bring me?” Dogg asked, putting a thin, hand-rolled cigarette into this mouth. Grace lit it for him.

  “Depending on the leg work. All I need from you would be to locate him for me. Let me know where he is so I can come in and grab the son-of-a-bitch.” Wyatt sipped his coffee. Roslyn imagined the man always had a cup of coffee in hand.

  “How about a ballpark?” Dogg urged, his dark eyes burned with a fever.

  “Let’s see, how’s five?” Wyatt suggested.

  “Honest work for five K?” Dogg mulled it over, looking at Grace who shrugged and kissed his ear. “I suppose I could use the change of pace.”