Killer Be Killed

by Travis E. Hughes

  For whatever reason the thought made her look at the door just as Bat Matters strolled in. He wore all black with a hooded riders cloak. Beneath which, he wore smart goggles. But since there was no network, they were only so smart. They could read different things like infrared and night vision. She’d trained with them in college. Smart goggles were stupid expensive. Bat came from money, some how. That or Star Belly had provided him with the goggles. Interesting, she thought. She filed the observation away. She knew that world from her stepfather. If they belonged to Bat, he was like one of her stepbrother’s buddies. More accurately, he was just like her ex-boyfriend, Tre-Coy. Rich boy out seeking a thrill until it becomes a lifestyle of misadventure and fuck ups, which usually adds up to jack shit. Had she not ratted out her father for doodling that woman on the base, would her parents have remained married? Would he have come back to Earth after the war and would they have stayed a family? Would she never have gotten involved in New York and those snobby punks, rebelling against their blue blood parents? She tried not to think about it. It was like walking backwards, like taking the mole out to play with.

  Bat reached Wyatt and they spoke briefly. Wyatt agreed to whatever the hooded shorter man said and the two nodded as they separated. Bat took Wyatt’s spot leaning on the bar. It was like Bat was relieving Wyatt of his position. To add to this concept, Wyatt exited.

  Perhaps the two men were biding their time, looking for the right time to strike? But oddly enough, Talbert didn’t seem interested in Wyatt or Bat, or at least he didn’t seem concerned.

  “What’s the deal with uh…” Roslyn nodded toward Bat at the bar.

  “Star is paying them to keep her interests safe,” said Grace in her chipped accent. “She was knowing this shorter man in someplace else. I don’t remember.”

  “Seems Miss Belly has plans for a nicer, more luxurious, high end place. She has capital to invest,” Hattie explained. “They’re waiting on the finest materials they can ship over from Athena.”

  “My God, you guys have done your leg work,” Roslyn said and chuckled.

  “It’s all Grace,” Hattie laughed. “That girl sure can interrogate a person.”

  “I’m a people person,” Grace laughed. Hers was a loud honking laugh that startled people who weren’t ready for it. “I ain’t never met no stranger before.”

  Roslyn recognized the man who’d just taken a spot at the bar, beyond Bat. Having the experience, thus far, of recognizing someone being equivalent to a very bad thing, made her fine neck hairs stand. It was the second, muscular guy that brought the scene in the gully all rushing back. The third punk road bandit strolled in on cue, his hat on sideways, his jeans pulled above his navel; socks pulled over the cuffs. Had they recognized her? She slumped in her chair. Then she nudged Talbert beneath the table. He turned and she motioned toward each man, giving big eyes and moving to the next, for more big eyes. Talbert tapped out of the next round.

  “I need a drink and a second to process something besides my odds,” he said and slid back in his chair. Roslyn waited to see how the road agents would respond. But they didn’t know about Talbert.

  But when she caught two of them exchange glances, her stomach dropped. The first one remained leaning on the bar, one hand under it. The second casually moved across the tent, near Dogg’s table. Did they not know who that was? This thought cleared the mole briefly. Fear lifted like a fog mid morning. These boys were toast. She almost wanted to warn them. The man behind you, will not shoot to stun. This will be your last day alive.

  She knew what needed to be done. Leaping from her chair and drawing at the same time she took out the closest one, the third agent, who had yet to fully get into position. People screamed and some ran out. Dogg had his gun to the back of the second one’s head. Talbert held the first one in a headlock.

  “Wrong place, wrong time, I’m afraid, youngster,” Dogg said, hitting him across the back of his head.

  “You three idiots shouldn’t have come to camp,” Roslyn told the only one still conscious.

  When the other two came to, they were greeted with a make-shift trial. A group of witnesses gathered to hear and pass judgment. This was frontier justice.

  “Yeah, but, where do you all get off, passing laws and sh--” yelled the first one.

  “You can’t rob people and get away with it just because there is no law against it,” Roslyn said, shaking her head. “I get so tired of this argument.”

  “Yeah, well, where is this alleged old man we assaulted?” asked the third one.

  “Allegedly assaulted,” added the first.

  “I don’t know. Probably high tailed it back to wherever the fuck he’s from,” Roslyn said, trying to keep her head from exploding.

  “So what’s like, keeping you from just accusing anybody of anything?” said the first one. He was the leader. The third guy was actually his number two. But the second, more muscular road agent was the heavy. It all made perfect sense in Roslyn’s wonderful head.

  “Exactly,” said Number Two. “She actually used us for target practice this morning.”

  “You mean when I was stopping you from killing that bald old man?” Roslyn asked.

  “Kill?” Leader asked. “Who said anything about killing anybody?”

  “I’d suggest you cooperate with the robbery charge, unless you want it to turn into attempted murder,” Talbert said in his deep grumble.

  Earl Wyatt arrived to witness the rest of the trial. He’d just been woken up and told about it.

  “What the fuck?” asked Leader. “Nobody murdered anybody. Attempted or otherwise.”

  “My whole point, folks, here, is where’s the victim?” asked Number Two. “Back on Earth, you still need a body to have a case.”

  The man was smarter than he looked, she thought. The crowd agreed. And the men were set free. Roslyn stormed back to their tent and got very close to smashing something, anything. Then she noticed Puff standing vigilant over the cot where the diamonds were buried.

  She felt a gentle breeze hit her chest, releasing a ball of angry twine to slowly unravel.

  When Hattie and Talbert returned to the tent, she sat wearing a shit-eating grin. She’d taken a blanket off of her cot and wrapped something substantial inside.

  “Make sure the flap is zipped up. Keep your voices down,” Roslyn said, giddy with excitement.

  Talbert and Hattie stood waiting as she laid the blanket on the ground and unfolded it. The lantern lights caught the glassy surfaces and bedazzled the inside of the tent. Don’t scream.

  But Hattie couldn’t help it. She covered her mouth but it was enough to alert any cutthroat thief within ear distance that they’d struck it big.

  “Where’d you get it?” Talbert asked.

  “In a cave. Puff knows the way back. There’s more in there than we’ll ever be able to haul out of here,” Roslyn said, her eyes turned into giant diamonds themselves.

  “But we aren’t in the mining business,” Talbert said.

  “I know that. And we don’t need to be in the mining business. We take as much as we can, cash it in and pick and choose our cases. We turn Dad’s legacy around and make it into an institution.” It was as if she’d memorized it.

  “They’re so beautiful,” Hattie said. “Praise be the Birds. To the highest perch--”

  “We ascend, yep. But this doesn’t mean we’re giving up on the Dogg Holly bounty,” Talbert said.

  “Why not?” asked Roslyn. “He’s no guiltier than you. Or me. He’s got honor. We should be going after the real scumbags. The evil ones. Get those people out. They fuck it up for everybody else.”

  “You want to talk about legacy?” Talbert said, taking off his boots and pouring out the glittering sand. “Bringing in Dogg Holly not only solidifies our position as the number one detective agency out here, it means we get the job done. Dogg Holly would walk because the Birds would know he’s an honorable man, who defends himself well.”

  Sober Talbert was able to
string many more thoughts together than his previous incarnation.

  “Besides, we took the job and now we’ve got to do the job,” Talbert added.

  “Are you going to just ask him politely,” countered Roslyn, standing. “Ask him if he’d be cool with taking a quick trip to Shiva, you know, to stand trial before the Birds.”

  Talbert grunted. He put his boots next to his cot and settled in to sleep. This was when he looked the most desperate and in sheer agony. She’d noticed the first night he tried going to bed sober and she noticed it every night since, save the one she was camping out doors. He’d grow agitated and his skin would turn pale and wet. It wasn’t as bad with each passing day, but it was still there. That look on his face of trying to suppress terror, lingered. The mole took him for a midnight ride, every night there for a while. He hated dreaming, she guessed. Based on his past record, who could blame him?

  That night they took turns on watch. Hattie’s scream could have, and should have, been a dinner bell for the hungry fiends.

  It was during her watch, just as the sun snuck around behind the mountains, still obscured, but close enough to give cry to its arrival. She’d slipped into dreamland. She was in New York at a rave. High on weed and molly and feeling like a ninja, disco queen, she danced with Yo-Form to make Tre-Coy jealous. The cops raided the warehouse.

  Then a gun was to her head. But this was happening for real, because it woke her up. Leader knelt over her. Number Two and Heavy put guns to Hattie and Talbert’s head as well.

  Glancing to his usual perch, Roslyn noticed Puff wasn’t there. Had they killed him? Rage consumed her. She quickly outlined a plan that involved taking his legs out and grabbing for his gun at the same time. Would she be able to stop the others from killing her friends? If it failed, they’d all be dead.

  She was surprised Talbert battled the same question. Because she expected him to have that Number Two’s gun any second. She waited for him to make the first move. And she waited. He was scared of getting Hattie killed. The thought struck her like a bolt.

  “We were in the area and heard the eureka scream coming from this very tent. Well, how lucky can a group of perfectly lawful young lads be? Right?” Leader said.

  “You have no idea how wrong that statement is, son,” Talbert said. “Shame that when you realize it, it’ll be too late to matter.”

  “The fuck’s that supposed to mean?” asked Heavy, the military branch of their little government of three.

  “Just so you know,” Talbert said, looking at Roslyn. “This is pure self-defense.”

  Sober Talbert was even quicker than Devil Bill, and the laser split Number Two’s skull into two separate hemispheres, starting from the chin and ending with the crown. Hattie’s assailant didn’t have a chance to flinch before his temple turned hollow. Talbert’s gun smoked.

  Roslyn took out Leader’s feet as planned and succeeded in swiping his pistol simultaneously. She contemplated finding his stun switch, but doubted this one had one. She held it at him, uncertain what to do next. Talbert strode calmly across the tent and shot the man dead. A pool of dark red spread from his skull.

  This time she didn’t feel the hot tears or the upset gut. This time it was easier because it felt justified and necessary. This scared her. But these fools had it coming. Too many scoundrels had been born in this time period. The purer souls throughout history had already reached nirvana, or heaven or that unpronounceable word the Avians use, the only ones still in the game were the shitty ones. The devils and the fiends. So that was how hell was going to play itself out?

  She needed fresh air and a moment to think and this brought her out of the tent. She stumbled around the tents and hovels, thinking about hell and her place in it. What had she done to deserve to be in hell? She thought about her time in New York. She was a stupid kid. The sick part was she didn’t need to steal. She just liked it. It was a thrill that had been amplified by the designer drugs her friends and her were on; a lot in those days. A blush of guilt swept over her. Who had that person been? It certainly wasn’t her now.

  She realized she was being stared at, but it would have been too late if the person wanted to kill her. There was a strange sense that she recognized the scruffy man, but being out of place, threw her off. But like waking from a dream and letting reality replace the dream’s constructs, her alarms began to toll. She reached for her gun. He drew at precisely the same time, but she turned out to be faster. His was only half raised, when she had him dead to rights. She was getting faster. Learning from Devil Bill and Dogg Holly didn’t hurt. She’d been practicing.

  “Everything doesn’t have to be a gun fight, Ros,” he said and shrugged his shoulders.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “I volunteered to look in New Vegas, but that meat-head Rick Dickens had already jumped up and down waving his hand when New Vegas was assigned,” Drago said, holstering his pistol. They stood near the newest building in town, the hardware store. They’d managed to get that one up fast.

  “Was that Muscles’ name?” she asked, still holding the pistol to his face. It was on stun and she planned not to hesitate if he flinched wrong. “I just called him Muscles in my brain.”

  That made Drago grin. And dammit all if grinning didn’t make him handsome.

  “People fanned out, looking every which way for you guys,” Drago said, holding his hands up. “I went to New Oldtowne. No sign of you, because I knew you were heading here. Just a gut thing. Maybe I felt your pull on me?”

  “What’s the bounty up to?” asked Roslyn, not wanting to discuss her pull on him.

  “For the lot of you?”

  She nodded.

  “Including Dogg Holly, we’re looking at 100K. Dogg by himself is worth 72K. Although there’s a rumor that he’s worth more someplace else,” he said, leaning his head back, tired of holding his hands up. “Can I…?

  “Don’t do it, Drago,” she said. “Don’t be stupid.”

  “I just want to put my arms down, please,” he whined.

  “Slowly,” Roslyn said, still holding him at gunpoint.

  A few early risers, or late to bedders, stopped to watch.

  “When I got back to Phoenix from New Oldtowne, and Rick Dickens wasn’t back yet from New Vegas, I knew he’d found you,” Drago said, carefully putting his arms down. She demanded his gun and he complied. Then she motioned for his sock. He gave that one up as well.

  “You could always frisk me,” he said, wearing a giant smug grin. She wanted to hit him across the temple with her gun.

  “Enough,” she said, motioning for him to lead the way out of town.

  “What about my bike?” he asked, pointing to his hover bike on its stand up the block of tents.

  Roslyn moved him towards it. He was about to climb on it, when she shook her head and climbed on it herself.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Go,” she said, waving the gun at him. “Walk. Back in the direction you came from. When we get to the edge of the camp, I’ll give you it back and you can ride back to Phoenix and tell them you didn’t see us here.”

  “Why would I do that?” he asked.

  “Because I’m letting you live. If you think you can take down Dogg Holly and Devil…Bill Brown,” she laughed and the mole took front and center.

  “Devil?” asked Drago, squinting.

  “I mean Bill Brown. I was thinking of someone else before, but…” she stammered internally, but remained stoic in real life. At least she’d intended to appear so. She wasn’t certain. That damn mole was snickering from the dark caves he’d dug.

  She marched him to the edge of the camp, which was further than she’d remembered. Had it grown over night again?

  “You really think I’m stupid enough to try to take on Dogg Holly?” asked Drago.

  “Why else would you be here?” she asked, idling along behind him, gun pointed, fully charged.

  “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I’m looking for a new job. Figured a ne
w camp had opportunities.”

  “See, you just gave your ass up,” she said, aiming the gun, looking ready to shoot.

  “How’s that?” he asked.

  “You said, you knew we would be here,” she said, closing the loop.

  “I knew you’d be here,” he said, half turning around to look up at her. The rising sun slashed across her face as it crested the mountains. It felt instantly warm. Or was it her cheeks and ears from blushing. Don’t you fucking blush at that shit!

  “Shut up and walk, please,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Somebody saw to my last employee, didn’t they?” Drago’s tone had changed slightly. Was he getting annoyed with her?

  “For the record, I didn’t kill Jules Divine,” she said. “So you can just direct that shit at somebody else.”

  “Your friends sure the fuck did,” he said, now with his back raised.

  “Easy, dude. I’m the bitch holding the gun,” she said, swaying her head ever so slightly.

  “All I’m saying is, how about you and me call it a truce. Say I find a job and start my new life and who knows what happens next?” He sounded like he was pushing soap. Was he peddling soap?

  “What?” she asked in a high voice. “You really think I like the idea of looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life, or how ever long you live here, we live here, co-exist here in the same, you know, place, seriously. That’s what you’re proposing?”

  “No. I’m saying we call the past, the past and we move forward into the future,” Drago said, stopping and turning fully around. “Why lasso possibilities with limitations? Right? Let’s just see what happens. Me and you, friends.”

  “Do you expect me to take you serious right now? With that Hallmark bullshit?” Roslyn’s head spun. She needed a second to think. Don’t overthink this, girl.

  Then she stopped. She sat idling, hovering three feet above the ground, staring at him. Their eyes locked briefly, then she looked away. She released a slow, steady sigh.