Boom. Splat. Blood, brains, bones, flesh splattered across the courtyard. What could be a less painful death than that?
There was just one problem.
He didn't want to die.
CHAPTER 37
Daniel stared at the King. Think of the blonde in the whorehouse, those pretty blue eyes staring into his, dulled by drugs to keep her docile. The girl in the pit, screaming as the men tore her clothes from her body. The girl scowling at him on the wheel, like he was just another asshole who wanted to own her. All the men and women bought and sold in the slave market.
It was all this bastard’s fault.
Just release the trigger, and it would all be over.
Sweat rolled down his body. His knees grew weak under the weight of the bomb. His heart thudded. His finger twitched on the trigger. It had seemed so heroic in the shed. People cheering their new-found rights, dancing on the King's corpse, calling Daniel a hero, building statues, rebuilding this world the way it should have been in the first place.
But he wouldn't be there to see it.
He'd be a red mess on the wall that some poor sod had to mop up. Blood, brains, guts, and bone fragments smeared across the rough, grey stone of the castle. A mess that had once been human, with dreams and goals of its own.
“So what are you waiting for, boy? Your Mommy to tell you what to do?” the King yelled, then laughed.
Daniel shook. What was he waiting for? It was what he came for. For the Revolution. To free them all from tyranny.
Drones buzzed around Daniel. Whatever he did, they were going to see it back home. They weren't going to miss a show like this. He’d go viral as soon as the first voyeur found the feed. He could finally tell them how he felt.
He turned toward the nearest drone, and stared into the dark dots of the cameras on the front. In a few months, the whole world would see this. But what should he say?
Just speak from the heart. What you really feel.
“I am Daniel Volkov. I am a political prisoner, Condemned for my opinions, not for a crime. You bastards sent me to die. Die I will, but my death with show that we can create a better world here than the one that exiled us here.”
That was about it. But he still had one more thing to say, to one special person.
“Erica,” he said, and his voice cracked. “I...”
The King laughed, and slapped metal hands on metal thighs. “Erica... is that your bitch... or your mother?”
Screw him. “I do this for the Revolution.”
“Not much of a revolution, with just you.”
Fuck it.
Daniel stepped forward. “I do this because I'm sick of you, and all the fucking assholes who won't take me seriously.”
The King's smirk faded, and he glanced toward the nearest Guard. “Shoot the little shit.”
“He’ll explode.”
The steam engine hissed as the King reached out, his fingers open wide. They grabbed the Guard’s head, and the Guard yelled and wriggled as the King lifted him from the ground with his mechanically-enhanced arm.
He grabbed the pistol from the Guard’s belt. The Guard yelled louder as the King’s hand squeezed tighter. He reached up and grabbed the fingers, trying to pull them away.
The Guard’s skull gave way with a loud crack. Blood and goo oozed out between the King’s fingers. He tossed the Guard aside, and the body smacked into the wall. Then he swung the gun toward Daniel, trying to aim it with metal fingers much larger than it was designed for.
The barrel swung toward Daniel’s face. Andy backed under the portcullis, then crept slowly into the dim hallway beyond. The other Guards turned to watch Daniel and the King.
Daniel ducked as the King pulled the trigger, the hammer cracked down, and the gun boomed. The bullet passed wide, above his head. One of the Guards on the wall screamed, then fell forward, tumbling to the ground.
The King tossed the empty gun at Daniel, who dodged aside. The King’s metal legs creaked and whirred as he backed toward the tower gate.
A familiar face stared at Daniel from the gate. The blue and red-haired girl he'd tried to save. Except, this time, she wasn't wearing a jumpsuit, she was wearing scraps of cloth so thin that she might as well not have bothered. Her fat breasts swung as she stepped out of the gate on her high heels, and everything else showed right through the dress.
He froze at the sight. What was she doing there? Drones turned away from the action, and buzzed around her, recording her body from toes to head.
The King turned toward her, his metal boots stomping on the ground. A few more steps and he'd be inside.
CHAPTER 38
With a loud thunk, the portcullis lever fell. The portcullis jerked in the roof of the tower archway. The chains rattled as it began to move, sliding down the archway. Princess glanced up at it, as it fell toward her. Then jumped out of the way.
Into the courtyard.
The King’s metal feet scrabbled for grip beside her as he slid to a stop at the portcullis. It shook as he smacked his metal hand against it. Then his shoulder. “Open this fucking thing.”
Pig-Face pushed the handle. It rattled, but stayed in place, down instead of up. “We didn't close it.”
“Well, you can fucking open it.”
Pig-Face sweated as he grabbed the lever, and pushed on it. The other Guards joined him, trying to pull the lever up. It rattled, but remained stuck.
“The fall must have knocked the elevation weights out of alignment. I always said the Brain’s design was more trouble than it was worth. Keep it simple, I said...”
“Then fucking fix it, or I’ll be feeding my daughters your balls before the night is over.”
Pig-Face ran along the hallway to a spiral staircase in the wall, and his feet clunked on the stone as he raced up them.
Princess glanced at the King, then at Daniel. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I’m...” Daniel began. The first time he had seen her naked, stripped in the mud by men who wanted to abuse and sell her, he had been repelled by the sight. But this was something else. He shouldn't be thinking of girls when he had more important things to do. But his cock had a mind of its own.
“I’m here to save you.”
“I didn't ask anyone to save me. So fuck off.”
What was she doing there with the King? Had the slavers sold her to him? Had he brainwashed her? He stared into her eyes. Had he drugged her? She stared right back, and pouted.
She couldn't want to stay with the King, could she?
“Not just you. I'm saving everyone.”
“What do you mean?”
The King coughed. “He wants to kill me, my dear. He has a bomb, and plans to blow me up.”
She looked toward the King. “Who are you?”
The King’s waist creaked as he turned to her. “Who the fuck do you think I am, you stupid bitch? I’m the fucking King of fucking Kingston, ruler of the fucking Borderlands, from the fucking mountains to the fucking sea.”
Then he crouched by the archway. He grunted as he forced his long metal fingers beneath the metal rail that formed the bottom of the portcullis. Steam hissed from his back as his legs and arms strained, trying to lift it. The portcullis rattled as it rose barely a centimetre from the ground, then it jammed. The King's skin beneath his helmet turned almost as red as his eyes as he strained to lift it higher. It still wouldn't move.
He let it drop.
Princess glared at Daniel. Then she stepped between him and the King.
“Get away,” Daniel said.
She took a step closer to him. “You don't really want to hurt me, do you? I mean, I never really meant that thing about handing you over to those slaver assholes. Not really.”
The King's laughter boomed over the whirring and hissing of his exoskeleton as he stood, stared at the two Guards left on the battlements, and slapped his sides.
His yell echoed back from the walls. “There’s not one man here with the balls to die for his King. O
nly a girl.”
Just a few seconds left. Daniel only had to do what he came to do. But how could he kill the girl? She might be a bit of an asshole, and she might have tried to hand him over to the slavers to save her own hide, but this wasn’t her fault. The stress of living in this patriarchal nightmare had driven her crazy.
Princess stepped forward again. Her breasts swung under the thin dress as she wobbled on the tall, spiky heels. He'd seen the pink, red-tipped globes several times before, but his eyes still followed the slow, pendulous movement. She watched his face, then pulled open the front of the dress.
“Do you want to play with them?”
He never had. No girl back home had ever let him touch her body. They liked him when he joined their protests, but just wanted to be friends afterwards. If he blew himself up, he'd never get to hold a pair of those in his hands.
Then again, if he didn't blow himself up, he never would, either. He'd be dead before tomorrow night, either way.
She wiggled her chest. “Come on. I don't mind.”
The portcullis rattled as the Guards on the far side hit the lever with a sledgehammer. It shook, but remained closed.
An arrow hissed past Daniel's ear, and smacked into the dirt between him and the girl.
The King's exoskeleton bellowed steam as his head swung up toward a Guard on the wall. “Don't shoot the fucking girl.”
Daniel stared into the King's red eyes. The girl was just treating him like a dumb kid, distracting him from what he had to do, buying time for the King to escape. He couldn’t wait a moment longer. He had come to the castle that night for the Revolution, and he would die that night, for the Revolution.
She'd have to take her chances.
He screamed the loudest scream he had ever screamed, and ran straight for the King.
“You bastard!” Princess yelled, and raced toward him.
Daniel dodged and turned, in case she tried that kick to the balls trick again.
Instead, she threw herself at him, smacked into his side, and sent him flying to the floor. The powder keg cracked as he landed face down. He tried to twist away from her, but she scrabbled on top of him, her weight pressed down on his back, and her head lunged forward. Pain stabbed his body as she bit deep into his ear, and her long nails scraped along his chest and arms. He screamed, until one of her arms wrapped around his neck, and pulled until he could hardly breathe.
The portcullis rattled again. This time, it shook and scraped against the stone walls as it rose into the roof.
The King turned. His steam engine whistled as his legs pumped. He was getting away.
Forgive me.
Daniel closed his eyes, and released the trigger.
CHAPTER 39
Red wandered past the Cat House guards, then out into the street. He stretched, and yawned. His balls were definitely working again now, and he’d proven it many times that night. The blonde wouldn't walk for a month after that ride. Shame he couldn’t have taken it out on the newbie girl, but, if the King wanted her, Red wasn’t going to argue. Nothing good would come of opposing the King.
Well, nothing at all would come of it, other than his head on a spike outside the city walls.
Yelling and shrieking floated toward him from the castle. What the fuck was going on up there? He'd even heard the shouting through the open window of the room in the brothel, and it had almost put him off his rhythm. Hard to concentrate on your work when people are shouting words you can almost, but not quite, decipher. He still couldn't tell what they were saying, but they didn't sound happy.
Moses strolled along the far side of the street, two of his slaves walking naked behind him, carrying a wooden crate the size of a coffin. They panted and struggled under the weight, and the smaller of the two was sweating hard, with a red face.
Someone followed them, hanging back in the shadows, his head constantly turning, surveying the surroundings, looking for trouble. He was clearly a man trouble followed.
Red backed into the shadows on his side as the face turned toward him. A long scar, one eye. A familiar sight.
Guy. What was that vicious little shit doing there? Someone should have killed him long ago, but he always seemed to find a way to survive. Usually by stabbing you in the back.
Was he following Moses, or working for him? They'd never been best buddies, but the two of them had seemed to get along back in the camp.
Either way, it couldn't be good.
He watched them pass. They must be up to something. But what? Why else would they be sneaking around in the dark with a crate?
Moses glanced over his shoulder. “So this is it, then?”
Guy’s clothes were stuck to his skin, and water dripped from his face and hands. Where had he been?
He continued scanning the street. “This is it.”
“Somehow, I thought it would be bigger, if you needed my boat to transport it.”
“It’s big enough.”
Moses sniffed. “What happened to you, anyway?”
“I went swimming.”
“Smells like you went swimming in shit.”
Guy sighed. “I got drunk, and fell in Shit Creek.”
“That sounds more like you.”
Serves the prick right. Shit Creek was where he deserved to be. Preferably with a knife in his back, floating down to the river with the other turds, to be flushed out to sea. Wouldn’t be the first man sent to his death that way.
Moses glanced back at the men carrying the crate. “Faster, Reach-Around. I don’t want to be here all day. Felch, put your back into it. Or I’ll trade you for a real man.”
The grey fur cloak on the back of Moses’ armour flicked into the air as he turned. It seemed to hover in mid-air for a moment as it caught Red’s eye.
That fur. Those stripes. Those spots.
Fuck.
That's Sparky.
CHAPTER 40
“There it is,” Liam yelled. The drone sauntered ahead of them along the corridor. The keyring still hung from the arm, and the keys rattled and clanked as it twisted in the air. Kevin panted behind him, as out of shape as always.
They’d been chasing drones for at least half an hour. Finally this was the right one. If not for the racket going on up in the castle, they’d be in deep shit, but they were the only Guards left in the dungeon, other than the poor sod they’d dragged out of the winch. And he wasn’t going to tell anyone.
Liam glanced back at Kevin. “Grab it if it turns back.”
Then he turned into the hallway to the left, and jogged along it as fast as he could with his aching legs. The buzzing grew fainter as he followed the hallway past the staring eyes watching from the cell doors, then turned right. It grew louder as he turned right again, heading back toward the drone. He pushed the last of his energy into his legs, racing hard toward the intersection that would lead back to the drone. The noise grew louder, echoing from the stone walls, and it wobbled out into the intersection just as Liam reached it.
He lunged toward the drone, but it twisted aside and rose toward the roof. He swung his sword as it tried to pass him, and the drone made a sudden stop as the metal blade smashed into the stone wall.
Liam reached for it, and it backed along the corridor, then spun around. Kevin had almost caught up on that side, and his hand barely missed as he tried to grab it. The drone’s motors spun up, and it accelerated back toward Liam, then stopped again as Liam’s blade swung toward it.
It buzzed back toward Kevin, then toward Liam, then back toward Kevin again. It stopped.
Then it flipped over in mid-air, and the keys slid from its arm. Kevin jumped forward and grabbed them before they hit the floor, and the drone buzzed angrily above his head, before it accelerated away and vanished into the smoke.
Liam grabbed the keys from him, and flipped through them. All still there. At least he’d still have his head in the morning. And his balls, if he was lucky.
“Where are you lazy fuckers?” Dean yelled. His voice echoe
d around the empty corridors, until it was answered by yells and cackles from the prisoners.
About time.
“Over here,” Liam yelled back, and rattled the keys.
A moment later, a bright glow appeared in the smoky haze, then became a lantern as it approached. Dean’s face peered out of the darkness beside it. After he took over the shift, they might still have enough time to get out for some decent food and booze in town.
“Lot of excitement upstairs?” Kevin said.
Dean grabbed the keys from Liam, and counted them. “You could say that. Some little shit tried to blow us up.”
“Why’d he do that?”
“Fucked if I know.” Dean laughed. “King’s new girl kicked the dumb kid's ass.”
“King’s got himself another one?”
“Yeah, some cute little thing with big tits. Looks like he snatched her from EdCamp. Real sweet piece of meat.”
“The King gets all the best pussy,” Kevin said.
“That’s what happens when you’re King.”
Liam’s stomach rumbled. “Can you stop yapping and hurry up? I’m hungry.”
“We’ll all eat well tomorrow.”
Thank the King. After ten years on Hades, Liam’s stomach still couldn't stand the local meat. When was the last time he'd had a proper meal? Must be a couple of months, now. Green, runny shits from eating the plants got old, fast.
“I'm going to see what's going on up there,” Liam said, and took a step toward the stairs.
Dean grabbed his arm, and pulled him back. “Not until I've checked the prisoners.”
“What, you think we've let them out?”
“Wouldn't put it past you useless cocksuckers.”
Dean peered into the barred window on the nearest door, then raised the lantern and shone the light inside. A high-pitched voice cackled back at him.
A rat scuttled away as he stepped on to the next cell, and checked that one, too.
Liam tapped his foot impatiently. Oh, by the King's smelly nuts... he'd take all night at this rate.
“Hurry up, will you?”
Dean peered in the next window. “You know, that's your problem. Always in some much of a hurry to get somewhere, that you never have time to check you're doing the right thing. That's probably why you ended up on Hades.”
Condemned (Death Planet Book 1) Page 17
