"My people are more disciplined."
"Doesn't matter. It's mathematics. Numbers never lie."
She smiled, leaning in to whisper. "Speaking of which, I wonder what would happen if I were to offer your hired guns twenty-five percent more to cross over to my side."
He gave her an amused glance. "A mutiny, I'm sure. But you don't have that kind of money. We both know that."
Her face turned deadly serious. "Step down. Walk away and I'll let you live, I promise. You had your time. It's over."
He blinked. "Are you serious? You actually have the audacity to—"
The door opened in a gust of howling wind and spraying rain. Bane stood in the entrance, massive body taking up the entire doorway. Lightning flickered behind him, followed by a thunderous boom. Water dripped from his soaking poncho, pooling on the floor.
"Ah, there you are." The Judge’s eyes flashed with anger. "Come here, Bane. There's something I want you to handle."
The giant trudged over obediently, eyes glimmering blue from the shadows of his wide-brimmed hat. Everyone scooted back, eyes wide as they watched him pass.
The Judge looked at the Baron. "You must see the irony in rebuilding a weapon I'll be using against you. Bane can't be bought. He can't be persuaded. He can't be stopped. And I'm the only one who can give him commands."
"Not anymore." She turned to Bane. "Stop." He froze in his tracks.
The Judge's eyes widened. "No. That's not possible."
A sneer curled her lips. "Did you really think I'd just hand over a weapon like this back to you? Of course my engineers altered his programming. He answers to me now. You should have taken my offer. But now blood is the only option left. Bane: kill him."
The Judge leaped backward, handgun sliding from his sleeve into his hand as he shouted orders to his gunfighters. "We're shooting our way out. Kill them all."
He opened fire on the Baron, but Bane shielded her, bullets ricocheting off his armored hide. The room erupted in gunfire as both sides shot one another at close range. The Judge cursed, noticing that some of his own hired guns had flipped, turning on the others. The noise was deafening. Men and women fell to the floor, screaming and clutching wounds, blood streaming between their fingers. Glass shattered, wooden chips and splinters flew across the air. Janey ran and slid across the blood-slicked floor, firing twin revolvers before taking a flying leap out the open door into the violent storm outside. The Baron stood back to back with Bane, firing at the Judge's men with composed efficiency. Waingrow emerged from behind an overturned table, holding a sawed-off shotgun. The Baron whirled, firing multiple rounds that turned his face into an unrecognizable mess before he hit the floor.
The Judge fired until his rounds emptied, but Bane remained unfazed, advancing until he loomed over him. The Judge held out his hands, trying to ward him off. "Stop. I order you to stop. You can't do this. You don't answer to her. You answer to—"
Bane moved faster than the Judge thought possible, lunging forward to seize him by the head. He screamed as Bane's thumbs jabbed into his eyes, blinding him. He flailed helplessly, eyes on fire, head flaring in agony as Bane's hands squeezed like a metal vice. He heard the sickening sound of his own skull fracturing before he knew no more.
The Baron's chest heaved as she took gasping swallows of moist air. Sweat slicked her face and soaked her clothes. The room was roasting hot and smelled of blood and death. The shootout ended with the Judge's grisly demise, the mercenaries losing the will to fight when their sponsor lay on the floor with his entire head resembling a fistful of rotten fruit. People crawled across the floor, dragging ruined limbs in an animalistic urge to escape. Wiley finished them off, one booming shot at a time. His grin widened with every kill, the look of a man enjoying his work.
She collapsed in a wooden chair, gesturing with her gun. "Anyone who worked for the Judge has two options: work for me or get out of Town right now." She glanced around the room expectantly. No one moved. She picked up an unbroken bottle of whiskey and poured it down her throat, taking several swallows. Bane plodded over and stood behind her like an obedient golem.
Wiping her mouth, she looked at her new crew. "Those who work for me will be deputized by the Marshal. You will wear a blue armband at all times when on duty. You will earn a decent wage, be awarded your pick of restored houses, and gain additional bonuses in the future. Deserters will be hung or shot, or both. Your work starts as soon as the megastorm is over. My first ordinance will be the surrender of firearms in this Town. Aside from law enforcement, all guns will be checked in upon entering and checked out when leaving. Anyone who refuses to surrender their weapon is to be shot. Some of you will be rounding up other undesirables, starting with those worthless religious zealots. They won't be a problem. Just gather them up and ship them off with a warning to never come back. Anyone loyal to the Judge will be rounded up and shot en masse. This is how we establish law and order in this Town. Any questions? Good. Get yourselves cleaned up and tend to your wounds. This storm won't last forever. When it ends, get ready to move out."
Turning around, she looked up at Bane. "Is Gunner dead? You watched him die?"
He nodded.
"Good. That's one less problem to worry about."
Chapter 11: Abomination of Desolation
Gunner drowned.
Choking on water, liquid fire searing his lungs, a storm raging around him, raindrops pelting, lightning sizzling, thunder hammering with sonic fists, pummeling him further into the dark, muddy river.
He clawed at his neck, tearing the sodden noose away, coughing, puking, neck on fire, throat torn by nettles, blood in his mouth. Pushing himself up with trembling arms, he blinked droplets from his eyelashes. The storm raged around the Town, clouds whirling, so dark and terrible that he tore his gaze away. Lightning forked, connecting sky to earth in blinding flashes and thunder so constant that the reverberations shattered windows and battered the buildings. Some of the structures were on fire from lightning rods busted from the onslaught, flames greedily feasting even while being doused by the deluge. Bodies floated in the water, poor folk unable to find shelter in time. A few stragglers ran through the mud, desperately searching for cover, beating on doors and windows sealed by the emergency lockdown. Their calls for help were unheard, overwhelmed by the sucking, booming, whirling sounds of the tempest. None of the unfortunates even saw Gunner lying in a white-capped, rushing stream that used to be a street. They couldn't see anything; eyes wide and blinded by paralyzing fear of the impossible phenomena around them. The winds shrieked like tortured spirits, blowing rain sideways in heavy gusts that never let up.
He glanced up, barely able to see the cage swinging in the blustering winds as if made of chicken wire. A tiny figure in a billowing cloak gripped the bars, doing something to the lock. The gate swung open and Pablo leaped out, falling beside Gunner in the stream. He lifted his face, gasping, white hair sopping and hanging across his face. He clapped Gunner on the back, shouting at the top of his lungs to be heard over the raging storm.
"I thought you were dead, amigo. But this Mahinarah child jumped from the rooftop and cut you down when that cyborg monstrosity walked away. It appears you have an angel watching over you."
Gunner opened his mouth, but his throat was too raw to speak. He hacked and nodded, trying to push himself to his feet. Pablo assisted him, both men staggering on weak legs like a pair of newborn colts. Enya leaped nimbly from the cage and landed beside them with a splash. She looked around fearfully at the raging storm, gesturing for them to follow. She led them into one of the nearby abandoned buildings, too old and broken to be locked down. Water fell from the damaged ceiling, flooding the interior. They splashed through, pushing aside floating pieces of rotted wood. The water drained into a basement, where Enya descended. The building shuddered from the punishment of the squall, creaking and splintering as if about to fall apart.
A hole in the wall revealed a hidden tunnel, where they entered, waist-deep in flowing wa
ter. Yellow-eyed figures awaited, stretching out lanky limbs and taking hold of Gunner and Pablo, supporting them as they descended into a wet, slippery passageway of earth and rock, gloom and darkness. Gunner had no idea how long they traveled, slipping in and out of consciousness, eyes blind, ears filled with the hisses and chirping of the Mahinarah as they carried him along. He closed his eyes, floating away into the darkness.
He awoke in front of a crackling fire in a hollow of dark stone, stalagmites jutting from the rocky floor like jagged rows of sharp teeth. Heavy rain was visible from the mouth of the cave, shimmering like liquid crystals every time lightning flashed. He fingered the heavy wrap that encircled his throat, smelling strongly of herbal medicine.
The worst of the storm has passed, but the rain will be around for some time.
He turned at the sound of the voice, realizing the words weren't spoken by mouth but communicated into his mind. A diminutive woman sat on the other side of the fire, wrapped in a multicolored shawl, beads roped around her neck and wrists. Her sagacious face was more refined than the rest of the Mahinarah, her hair finer, silver threads hanging loose to her shoulders. Her gray skin was nearly free of the mottled patches that marked her kind, lightly freckled instead. Her amber-colored eyes gazed at him with serene perception, as though she knew him through and through. He was all too aware that she did. She was the Keeper, possessor of the hive mind of the tribe.
He pushed himself to a sitting position, bowing his head in respect.
My name is Bodhi. We have tended to your wounds. Your voice will return in time. Your friend is cared for. Do you remember, Agni Chaya?
His mind flooded at the mention of his name. Fire Shadow. He saw the name as she did, the flame that chased the shadow. The fire, the man with crimson eyes. The dead that lay at his feet. Gunner sobbing, clutching a body to his chest. Picking up his Reavers, chasing after the shadow. Always chasing.
He nodded, tears trickling down his face.
She waved a bony hand. Sleep, Agni Chaya. Dream of your loved ones and be content.
He slept. For the first time in ages, the nightmares stayed away.
When he awoke the next morning, he walked the camp with Bodhi beside him, moving with elderly grace. Children trailed in their wake, pointing and staring with widened eyes, scampering away every time he turned around.
The Mahinarah village was far more advanced than any he'd ever seen, a series of wooden lodges and stacked stone huts with domed roofs, connected by wooden bridges and heavy beams that reinforced the structures. A wall of wood ash cement fortified the encampment from intruders. A series of caves also served as shelter and led to the tunnels that allowed them to travel through the mesa and into the Town undetected. They also housed the smithery, where several of the Mahinarah worked the forges and hammered out tools, weapons, and machine parts. Conveyors rattled, moving metal and stone. Cogs and gears turned, transferring water from hidden streams in the caves to the encampment. Gunner stared at an automaton, roughly humanoid in shape, made from rusted metal parts but functional, assisting the workers at the forge. A rounded fusion orb pulsed from the housing in its chest.
Bodhi seemed to read his surprise. You've never seen technology of this sort created by us before. It is a new thing of the last few years. We wanted to create synthetic guardians for protection, but the nature of such creations still eludes us. This simple automaton is the culmination of years of work and learning. Yet it is simple, only able to perform the most basic tasks.
Gunner grunted, wincing from the pain in his throat. His voice was a gravelly rasp. "It's…far beyond anything I've…seen from the Mahinarah." He coughed into his hand, grimacing. "Your skills are increasing."
As you know, we share a collective memory that grows stronger over time, healing minds damaged by hereditary disorders that have afflicted us since we were shattered in the madness of the Cataclysm. As our minds heal, we recover much of what was lost. In time we will further adapt, losing our collectiveness to individuality. In time, we will again be like you.
"Seems…like a loss…more than an advantage."
It is what will be. We must adapt or perish. That is the way of things.
He picked up a handful of loose wires, frayed at the ends. "This looks familiar. Like the wires in the power plant. They say someone has been pulling these out and pulling levers, creating blackouts. But it's not the Baron or the Judge. It's been you this whole time."
We were trying without success to free the captives in the mines. Trying to learn their technology to save our people.
"That's too great of a risk. The Baron already wants to wipe you out."
We are always in danger. There are always those who want to massacre us. You understand because you were once one of those men. It does not matter whether we leave or stay. So we stay.
He massaged his neck, where the scarring was still tender and sore. "Well, I reckon I can do something about that."
You have done enough. You set our captive brothers and sisters free. We are in your debt. You owe us nothing.
He looked her in the eye. "There's nothing in this whole world I can do to take back what I did to you, and you know it. At least let me do what I do best to make sure no one else does the same."
The decision is yours, Agni Chaya. Whatever we have is at your disposal.
The rain finally faded to a steady drizzle that afternoon, falling from a sky the color of gun smoke. The Baron's boots clomped on wooden boards lain across the thick mud, grateful she had maintained the drainage system. Some of the streets still flooded, but the water receded quickly, funneled to the treatment center for recycling.
Bane followed on her heels like a protective guard dog, splintering the wood under his boots. She joined Marshal Wiley in the town square, where a group of men and women were lined up on their knees, hands on their heads. Their faces ranged from surly to terrified as they faced off against her newly appointed deputies, all who aimed rifles at them.
"This all of them?"
Wiley adjusted the gun belt he confiscated from Gunner's belongings; the Reaper revolvers holstered at his hips. "Most of 'em. Fools still fighting for the Judge, and some who didn't want to surrender their guns."
"Any sign of Janey?"
"Haven't seen her yet. Couldn't have gone far in that storm. My guess is she's holed up somewhere waiting for a good chance to sneak out."
"I want her and anyone else who might be a threat rounded up and shot. Especially Gunner. I want to see his body even if he drowned. Search building to building."
"Already being done."
"Good." She glanced at the line of prisoners. "Get rid of them."
He grinned, motioning to his lieutenant. The order was shouted out, followed by the explosion of gunfire. The bodies jerked back and forth, spurting blood as they toppled into the mud. The Baron had already turned away, glancing at a young deputy headed her direction, dragging a mud-spattered resident by the arm. The man had a dazed expression on his face, looking as if he'd been pulled from a battlefield.
"Who's this?"
"This here's Barney Fields. Says he was caught out in the storm last night. Got washed away and would've drowned if he hadn't held tight to the lamppost by the Mercantile."
Her foot tapped impatiently. "What does that have to do with me?"
The deputy smacked Barney Fields in the back of his head. "Go on, now. Tell her."
Barney blinked as if awakening from a dream, staring at the Baron with his mouth agape like an imbecile. "I done seen 'im, I did. Seen 'im with my own eyes."
"Seen who?"
"The man that got hanged. Him and the preacher. Seen 'em when they escaped."
Her eyes narrowed. "You saw Gunner and Pablo escape? What happened?"
His face reddened. "You'll think I'm making it up, but I know what I seen."
She took a deep breath, trying to keep from throttling the man. "Tell me."
"Was a demon, it was. A yellow-eyed demon birthed from that un
holy storm. Cut the outlaw down with its razor teeth, then tore the door right off the cage with its bare hands. They walked right on top of the water like it was dry ground, then lightning struck them all, and they disappeared like ghosts. Scariest thing I ever seen."
She dug into her vest pocket and flipped him a gold bull. "Thanks for reporting it. You run along and clean up. Stay inside if you don't want to get shot by mistake."
"Yes, ma'am. I will, ma'am." Clutching the gold to his chest, he trotted off.
The deputy laughed. "Yellow-eyed demon? He must have been hallucinating."
She smiled. "Must have been. You did good bringing him to me. Keep looking around. See if anyone else saw anything."
He saluted her and sauntered off; chest puffed out. She motioned to Wiley, who walked toward her.
"The Ferals helped Gunner and the preacher escape. Get a posse together and head for the mesa summit. It's time we put those filthy animals down for good. I want them all wiped out."
He glanced at the holoband on his wrist. "Much as I'd like to blow Gunner's brains out with his own revolvers, I got bad news. The storm circled around and is heading back at us. Won't be at full strength like before, but it'll still be pretty bad. Gonna have to call everyone back to take shelter until it's over. Should be able to head out there after it passes through."
She shook her head. "That's not good enough. I don't like not knowing what they're doing up there. Those creatures are savage killers. And they seem to be able to slip in and out the Town without being seen. The trapper was right—the one with the red eyes. He said they were cunning in their own way. For all we know, they're planning to kill us all in our sleep."
"Then send Bane. I'll go with him. The two of us should make good time. And he's worth a whole posse all to himself."
"Then I'll send him alone. No need for you to take the risk."
"I'll let him take the lead and just follow as backup. I'll be the cleanup man."
"Fine." She turned around and looked up at Bane. "Climb the mesa. Find where they're hiding Gunner. Kill him and everything else up there. If it's alive, I want it dead. Understand?"
The Gunner Chronicles Page 12