by J. N. Chaney
And why should it? We were in the middle of nowhere. If I died here, no one would care.
“I suppose I can’t hate you all that much,” admitted Colt, his tone almost bored, and he cast another glance around the town. “You didn’t know what you were getting into with the Avos bounty. Too bad about your luck.”
He was talking too much, trying to throw me and keep me inside my own head, but I chose to ignore him. All he had to do was take five more steps, and he’d be in range. Just five more steps, and I’d blow that smirk off his face.
“I'd never heard of you before, you know,” continued Colt. “And after reading through your job history, I can say no one will remember you when I plant a bullet in your skull—”
Almost there. One more step.
“—and you're just going to be another corpse floating in the Deadlands, the same as all the other trash out here. Maybe your agent will care a little. I can deliver the news myself. Wouldn’t that be nice? Trinidad, I think his name was? Scrawny little fella with a—”
Now.
I slipped my revolver free of the holster and fired, keeping one hand on the gun as I slammed the hammer down repeatedly with the other.
Three rounds left the chamber before Colt had a chance to react. Two hit the road behind him as he dove out of the way, withdrawing his own weapon in the process. The third, luckily, plugged his shoulder.
Not quite the head, but close enough.
He didn’t say a word, despite the fresh wound, and instead fired back.
I strafed, shooting back until the trigger clicked. He did the same as I darted through the alley between the sheriff’s office and the building next to it. A bullet nearly tagged me as I entered, striking the nearest wall as I slipped through.
Another grazed my arm, the hot metal burning my skin and ripping my coat.
I sucked in a breath. It was just a flesh wound, even if it hurt like hell.
Behind me, Colt said something I couldn’t understand. I’d put some distance between us, but not enough to make a lasting difference. I had to get out of here.
The alley ended in another swamp, one far larger than where I’d landed the Star.
“Siggy!” I shouted into the comm in my ear, taking off along the bank. I reloaded my revolver as I went. “Get me the hell out of here!”
“On my way, sir. Please avoid getting shot in the meantime.”
“I’m trying!” I snapped, and a bullet tore through the air above me.
“Get back here, Hughes!” shouted Colt, his voice closer than before.
The roar of engines filled the air as the Star sailed over the sheriff’s office and hovered above me. It descended toward the water, but I had no idea how deep the swamp went. It probably wouldn’t be able to land.
I aimed my pistol toward the alley just as Colt stuck his head into view. Our eyes briefly met, and I pulled the trigger.
He jerked back behind the building, and my bullet sank into the wooden siding on the opposite wall.
I fired a few more warning shots, mostly to keep him in hiding as I bought more time for the Renegade Star to land. My bullets shattered a piece of the siding, a dire enough threat to keep Colt at bay, but my advantage wouldn't last long.
As the Star neared, the cargo bay doors opened. Mist coiled into the air from the exhaust, stirring up the sulfur yet again. I coughed as the putrid mist wafted over the bank, obscuring the world around me.
Cover. Filthy and nauseating, but it was still cover.
The mist wouldn't do much, but it would be enough to get myself into my ship without a bullet landing in my back.
I ran along the bank toward the opening cargo bay doors just as Colt opened fire. This time, however, he didn’t shoot at me.
He shot at my ship.
Namely, at the opening cargo bay gate. Colt must’ve figured out exactly what I was trying to do. Fine.
“Siggy, turn the ship and open fire on Colt,” I ordered, my voice masked by the hum of the engines. “Don’t hit the buildings. Focus your fire on the bank of the swamp, and just give me cover. I don't want to kill any of the locals, but if you happen to kill Colt, I won’t be mad about it.”
“Yes, sir,” replied the AI.
Immediately, the Star pivoted, and the quad cannons sprang to life. The ship fired into the swampy soil near the alley by the town hall.
If I had ordered Sigmond to destroy the buildings, I could have killed Colt once and for all. With the injuries I’d given him, he wouldn’t be able to move very fast, and the building would crush him.
Oh, the temptation.
With a groan, I pressed on, running along the murky bank toward the cargo bay that was now farther away. Colt didn’t have mercy, but I did. Killing everyone in the buildings by the swap just to get Colt was, well, taking things a step too far.
I was better than that, no matter what it cost me.
The quad cannons fired on the swamp, the sound booming so loud I was certain I’d lose some hearing from it.
The canon shots landed in the water, causing a storm of rain and mist around me. As the newly created fog grew thicker, I slipped on the edge of the swamp, barely catching myself before I stumbled into the swamp.
Through the haze, the cargo bay door appeared almost out of nowhere. I nearly slammed my knee into it but jumped on impulse, rolling along the grated floor, the ship beneath me humming from the weapons and the engines.
“Close the door, Siggy!” I shouted. “Take us out of range. Lose him, godsdammit!”
“Terminating quad cannons,” replied the AI. “You may want to hold on to something, Captain.”
I rolled toward the lockers and the cargo bay doors sealed shut behind me, then I grabbed hold of the corner as the Star sprang to life. The force of the ship’s acceleration pinned me to the floor, and all I could do was hold on while we yet again narrowly escaped death.
Part of me hoped Sigmond had been able to kill Colt, but I wasn't about to hold my breath. That bastard was resilient.
I couldn’t get work with him after me. There would be no break. He would be on my tail at every turn, and I wouldn’t be able to make money until he was dead.
It meant my life as a Renegade had come to a pause, however temporary, and it wouldn’t resume until I found a way to stop him, either by force or otherwise.
But I couldn’t do this on my own, not without some sort of advantage. He claimed to have a way to track me—that he knew my IDs. Whether or not that was a bluff, I couldn’t be sure, but there was no sense in taking that risk.
There was no reasoning with Colt, so I wouldn’t bother. I’d fight him and I’d kill him.
One way or another.
And I needed Fratley’s cloak to do it.
13
I winced as the antiseptic hit the wound in my bicep, and I held the cloth to my skin. I rode out the pain, leaned back in the pilot's chair, and cursed under my breath.
Adrenaline was a powerful drug. In the moment, I’d thought it was just a flesh wound—nothing but a burn from a bullet grazing my skin.
I’d been wrong.
Colt’s bullet had taken out a chunk of my arm and stained my shirt beyond repair. I’d never get all the blood out and I was all the more grateful I hadn’t fallen into the swamp. With a wound like this, I could have been looking at a nasty infection if any of the sulfur-tainted Brax water had gotten involved.
The first-aid kit lay open on the dash in front of me, nearly empty. I would need to resupply soon, especially if I kept running into Colt.
“That bastard,” I muttered as the sting of the antibiotics slowly began to fade.
“Your vital signs are positive, sir,” said Sigmond. “My full scans show no additional damage and no internal bleeding or broken bones.”
“Good,” I said as I pulled out some bandages from the first-aid kit. It would be a quick enough fix to wrap myself up, and I’d just have to keep an eye on it.
Colt had tried to take out my primary shooting a
rm, and I didn’t want to lose any control on my right side from the wound. I still needed to be able to draw my gun quickly, so I would have to heal quick and keep my head clear.
That meant no painkillers.
“Make a note to resupply the first-aid kit the next time we refuel,” I ordered. “We’re low on just about everything, thanks to Colt.”
“Yes, sir,” responded the AI.
“That was too close, Siggy,” I said as I dumped clotting powder over the wound before wrapping a bandage around my arm. “Colt knew where we were going to be. How is that even possible?”
“He did mention he knew your aliases, sir,” said the AI. “Perhaps he was telling the truth?”
I rolled down my sleeve to cover the bandage, though a piece of the white gauze peeked through the blood-stained hole the bullet had torn through the fabric. I packed up the first-aid kit and set it by the door as a reminder to take it back to the lounge when I was done up here.
Now that we were in space, the adrenaline had begun to fade, and I could finally sit with how close to death I'd come.
Twice.
“You saved my ass back there, Siggy,” I said as I rubbed the back of my neck.
“I couldn’t have you dying on me, sir. Without you, I would be homeless.”
“And don't you forget it.”
I took a deep breath as I settled into my chair, my thoughts racing over the fight. I tried to remember everything he’d said. All the threats he’d made—and the implications of what he hadn’t said.
This was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I had no precedent for what to do in this situation. All I could do was survive.
At least now, Colt’s bloodlust made sense. This was some kind of vendetta for him, a revenge plot to avenge a useless criminal because they were related. It didn’t matter that Decker’s death had made the universe a better place—Colt would hunt me until the day he died, and then he’d probably pay someone else to finish the job.
It seemed like such a waste of talent. Colt was a living legend, for the gods’ sake. All that money, time, and energy could be put toward making himself more money and securing his place in history. But, no. He wasted it all on a hunt to avenge Decker and make an example out of someone who hadn’t even tried to kill his cousin.
What a mess.
Something Colt had said stuck out in my mind though, playing on repeat like a song I didn't want to hear. He’d said he wasn't just coming after me, but that I was merely first. The “three assholes” who had killed Decker must have been next, and that meant one thing.
The Carson kids had targets on their backs. If Colt found them before he got to me, he would probably open fire.
With that flippant comment, Colt had given me a choice: warn the kids or let them face this on their own.
Facing this on their own, though, would probably mean letting them die. I’d fought them, and they still had a long way to go before they could stand against a guy like Colt.
Even as I debated the choice, I already knew what I was going to do. I didn't really want that blood on my hands, even if they had cost me good money. I rifled through my memory again, sifting through the conversations I’d had with Colt and the Carsons, trying to see this from a new angle. I wanted to see if I’d missed anything.
I hadn’t, of course. I was more so looking for an excuse not to contact them. I didn't have one.
“Hey, Siggy,” I said, rubbing my eyes as the exhaustion of my long day finally set in. “Do we have the contact information for the trio we ran into during the Decker job?”
“I’m afraid not, Captain,” answered the AI. “I do have the contact for their drop-off on Avos, however. You might be able to reach them through him.”
I debated it. I didn't want my warning to the kids to leak to Colt in any way, and the fact that we didn't have a direct line to the trio didn't sit right with me. Those little idiots were the reason I was even in this mess, and a part of me still resented them for that.
Every time I came close to writing them off and letting them deal with it on their own, though, I remembered the hard truth: they were just kids who had acted out of rage and grief.
I had been stupid at that age too.
“Leave a message,” I ordered. “Don't give any details about me, Decker, or Colt. Just say that the Renegade wants to talk to them. I don't want anyone intercepting it and figuring out what's going on.”
“Right away, sir,” responded Sigmond. “I'll let you know as soon as I have any information.”
“Good,” I said, standing as I grabbed the first-aid kit off the floor. “Because right now, I need some food and a bit of quiet.”
“Sir, we've received a transmission,” said Sigmond through the lounge speakers. “From Avos.”
“Well, I wonder who that could be,” I muttered sarcastically as I shoveled in the last of my meal.
I set the empty bowl on the table to deal with it later and ran up to the cockpit. As I settled into the pilot's seat and closed the door behind me, I rubbed my hands together, still not entirely sure what I even wanted to say.
“Go ahead, Siggy.”
On cue, the holo popped to life, and three familiar faces stared back at me from the display. Edwin stood in the middle of the trio, with Hunter and Ruby on either side of him. Hunter crossed his arms while Edwin simply leaned back in his chair.
“We weren't expecting to hear from you again,” admitted Edwin with a curious tilt of his head.
“Yeah,” added Hunter. “Last I recall, you threatened to kill us if we reached out to you. I figure the same should apply for you reaching out to us, so you'd better have a good reason for hauling us out here.”
I paused, sifting through the implications of what he’d said. If they had to haul anywhere to get to a communications device, I wondered how reclusive they’d gotten in their hiding. Perhaps things had been going steadily south for them. They clearly hadn’t gotten back to their family home yet, and that meant their resources were probably wearing thin. The guns they’d had when I intercepted them were new, but it was possible they’d splurged or stolen them in a last-ditch effort to make sure Decker died.
I could only guess, of course, and I might’ve been wrong. But if they’d prioritized revenge over food and shelter, they were going to die sooner than I’d thought.
“Cut the bravado,” I ordered, not interested in dealing with Hunter right now. “Listen closely, because I’m not going to repeat myself and this is the only warning I’m going to give you. Colt Lockwood is coming after you. He knows you killed Decker, and he's tried to kill me twice already. Apparently, you three killed his cousin.”
Maybe I'd ripped off the bandage too soon, because the three of them went noticeably still.
For a second, I debated if the holo had glitched because none of them moved. The only reason I knew the camera was still running was because I could see them blinking in shock.
“Yeah,” I said with a nod. “That was about the same reaction I had.”
“Colt Lockwood?” asked Edwin, his voice barely audible as he fought to regain his composure. “You’re saying the Colt Lockwood wants us dead?”
“I said I wasn’t going to repeat myself, kid,” I reminded him.
“But Colt's a legend,” pressed Edwin, still baffled. “And you’re saying he’s connected to Decker? How could such a famous Renegade be related to that scumbag?”
I shrugged. “The world is full of terrible surprises, boys and girls. I had no idea, either. Call it another bad roll of the dice.”
“What do we do?” asked Hunter, looking immediately to Edwin. “How could you not know about Decker being—”
“Jace didn’t even know and you think I would?” interrupted Edwin, frowning at his brother. “Nothing ever came up from the gal-net research I did!”
Ruby sighed but didn’t say anything.
In the silence that followed, Edwin just shook his head, still bewildered and processing the tidal wave of awful th
at had just crashed over them all.
“Look,” I said. “I'm just telling you to give you a fair warning. I figured you deserved to know what’s coming your way even if it is your own damn fault. None of this would have happened if you’d just stayed out of my way. If nothing else, learn from this.” I paused, not really sure what else to say. “And try your best not to die, I guess.”
I leaned back in my chair, ready to tell Siggy to cut off the transmission, but Edwin reached a hand out. It was subtle, the sort of movement you don’t know you’re making, and it seemed almost desperate. It caught my eye, and I paused, curious to see where this would go.
“Hold on. We need to work together,” said Edwin. “We have to work as a group if we're going to survive this.”
“Then work as a group,” I said.
“He means the four of us, dumbass,” said Hunter.
“I'm not looking for a crew,” I said, leaning my elbows on my knees as I sat forward in my seat. “I don't want you to get too comfortable on the Star. Besides, Ruby seems volatile. I'm not sure she's the sort of person I want on my ship.”
“No, think about it,” pressed Edwin. “I can tell you work alone, and that's fine. But so does Colt. If we go four against one, we stand a real chance against this guy. For his entire career, he’s almost never asked for help. I’ve studied him, Renegade. I know how he thinks, and right now we’re small chips. He’s not going to bring in help.”
I frowned. That would’ve been great to know on Brax. If I’d known that, I might’ve even been able to kill Colt once and for all during our shootout. Maybe these kids weren’t as hopeless as I’d thought.
“So, here’s what I propose,” continued Edwin. “The four of us work as a team and take him out together. Otherwise, he'll pick us off one by one. We need to shift the tides if we want to stand a chance in this fight. The three of us have resources, skills, weaponry, and contacts that you need to kill Colt, and you have the experience with him that we don't. You have a ship, and we don’t.”
