Bovine Bloodbath HIGH STEAKS: book two (Bovine bloodbath series 2)

by Chris Lowry

  "The bull leader of the alien cow's confuses you?"

  "You know what I mean," Dawes sighed. "Admirabull sneaking into earth herds. Got it."

  "It's reall hush hush. That's why I said sneaking. They're trying to rally the herds to their side."

  "Or trying to cow-ordinate a cow-vert attack."

  "Don't do that man."

  "Do what?"

  "You know I hate it when you do that."

  "I'm just saying, get comforta-bull with it. Alien cows man, what did you expect?"

  "Look man, we can argue about this until the cows come home to roost."

  "I think that's the chickens."

  "Whatever man, I know what I'm talking about. Chickens. Cows. It's all the same thing."

  "One's a bird, the other's got hooves."

  "You know what I mean."

  "

  OUTLINE HIGH STEAKS

  RECAP book 1

  Carver and Dawes get picked up by Duke and Nuke, sent back to Super Secret Space HQ.

  "Ya'll keep bringing us back here just to send us somewhere else," said Carver.

  "You've screwed the pooch on this one," said Nuke, dragging them down the corridor.

  "I thought there were just cows in on this," said Dawses. "They got man's best friend too?"

  "No dogs. Not yet," Duke palmed the door and let it slide open.

  They get a squad of super secret soldiers on a hovering troop transport.

  Carver crashes the transport and kills the super secret soldiers, except Duke and Nuke.

  "Wait here."

  Dawes and Carver get tired of waiting, steal a couple of bikes to meet with Helen and the representatives of the Cowncil. They learn the cows have sent reps to the swines and chickens to recruite more farm animals to their cause.

  "Swine summit," Dawes said with a grin.

  "It don't sound kosher to me," Carver complained.

  "I don't think pigs are kosher."

  "I mean the summit. They doing that thing like they did that thing before."

  "Which thing?"

  "The sneaky thing."

  "Distracting us?"

  "Yeah, I think this whole peace talk thing is them just playing with us, while they do an old run around and get all the farm animals together for a revolt or something."

  "Like in Animal Farm," said Dawes.

  "No man, this ain't some dumb ass movie about white boys in college."

  "That's Animal House. Animal Farm is the book."

  "I know that. You don't have to tell me that. It's by that guy, Orson Welles."

  "George Orwell."

  "That's what I said. You've got to listen. Forget about it. The animals are going to rise up, and they got way more of them than we have of us."

  "But we have guns."

  "They got guns. Laser guns."

  "Oh yeah," Dawes nodded. "And they work pretty good too."

  "Damn good. Too good. Plus, if they teach the pigs to talk, then we're in trouble."

  "You can't teach a pig to sing," said Dawes.

  "But you can teach them to shoot, and if they shooting at us, it ain't going to be good."

  Dawes nodded his head.

  "My dad has got pigs on his farm."

  "My people do too."

  "If those pigs ever get smart-" he let it linger as both of them conjured sick and twisted images of the damage pigs could do.

  "Damn," said Carver.

  "What?"

  "We ain't even thinking about the wild pigs neither. Texas got a feral pig problem. And they gonna be pissed cause it's always open season."

  "This is bad," Dawes agreed. "We've got to do something."

  "We've got to stop that meeting."

  "The Pig parlay."

  "Yeah that."

  "Then we've got to sneak out of here."

  "We snuck in didn't we?"

  "But they weren't watching."

  "Then we're going to turn the tables on them."

  "I don't know if we can lift up the tables."

  "I mean give them a taste of their own medicine," said Carver.

  "I don't really like medicine," Dawes asnwered. "I'm holistic that way. The body can heal itself."

  "What kind of hippie bullshit is that?"

  "I don't think we can say bullshit anymore, since you know, we're fighting cows."

  "Man, shut up and stop acting a fool. I mean we're going to distract them so we can get away."

  "Oh yeah," said Dawes. "That's a good plan."

  They distract Helen and the Cow Reps, and get away.

  They go to the farm to brea up the Summit. The Farmer sees them sneaking around and calls the Sheriff. They get arrested for trespassing.

  "We can't mess this up."

  "We're going to have to prove ourselves. To us adn the world."

  "Not really to me though, cause I know I'm a good man."

  "More to the world though."

  "And the General."

  "And him."

  "And Duke and Nuke."

  "Yeah, them too. But not to me though. Not to us."

  They shook on it.

  "You ready?"

  "Let's do this."

  "What are gonna do?"

  "Stop those chickens."

  "Which ones?"

  "All of them."

  "But what if some of them are innocent?"

  "Man shut up, they ain't no such thing as an innocent chicken."

  "Hey Dawes?"

  "Yeah?"

  "What would you do if you saw that Admiral right now?"

  "The Admirabull, I'd walk right up to him and I'd-"

  Carver snickered.

  "What are you laughing at? He's behind me isn't he? He's behind me right now."

  Dawes whipped around, but the space behind him was empty.

  "Naw man, he ain't behind us. I was just messing with you to see what you'd do."

  Dawes completed the circle and froze.

  "Carver-"

  "I was just playing man, stop."

  "Carver-"

  "You're freaking me out with that thing you're doing with your eyes man. Stop playing around."

  Dawes closed his fish mouthed gape and pointed.

  "You ain't playing are you?"

  He shook his head slowly.

  "He's behind me right now, isn't he?"

  Dawes nodded and took a step back.

  "Don't run, man. You know bulls chase after you when you run. I ain't running with no bulls."

  Dawes twirled around and took off, boots slinging up little clods of black dirt.

  Carver gave a quick look over his shoulder and moaned.

  Eighteen hundred pounds of nine foot bull flesh snorted near his ear. The sun gleamed off the gold nose ring and black bull eyes flashed as a hoof clawed the ground.

  Carver sprinted after Dawes.

  "You're supposed to be on the lookout!"

  He passed the cowboy and left him behind as the ground pounded under the thundering sound of the bull rushing after them.

  ags to riches

  Good v evil

  "They're evil man."

  "They can't be evil, they're cows."

  "Cows can't be evil?"

  "No dude. They taste too good."

  "You. So. Stupid."

  "Yeah, I know. But I can grill a mean steak."

  "Don't let them here you say that too loud."

  "Why? Think this can get worse?"

  Dawes held up his manacled hands and sighed.

  Carver sobbed.

  "They're going to canibalize us."

  "You mean carnivorize, I think."

  "Is that even a word?"

  "Yeah, cannibals would mean they was eating each other. Carnivore means they eating us."

  "You think they're really going to do that?

  "Probably."

  "So that's just it then. We give up and get turned into cow food."

  "We could," Dawes drew out the last word, letting it linger a bit on the air. />
  "Or!" Carver snapped. "My momma used to talk like that and there was always an or on the end of it when she did it."

  Dawes moved his wrist and slide one of the manacle links off.

  "Or I could do that?"

  He showed Carver the thin piece of metal he used to pick the lock.

  "Why'd you take so long? Come on man, do me next."

  Dawes went to work on Carver's bindings. It took a little longer to get off, since he kept moving.

  "Quit moving."

  "I ain't moving. Your hands are shaking."

  "Probably both. Just hold still."

  CHAPTER ONE

  "Where we going?"

  "Sssh."

  "Don't shush me man, I told you about that."

  "I'm not shushing you."

  "Then what the hell do you just call what you did?"

  "Carver, do you want to bring all the aliens right to us? Do you want to let them know where they are so they can come kill us?"

  "Look man I'm just trying to find out what we're doing. Like if you have a plan or something or if you're just trying to get my ass killed again."

  Dawes stopped and leaned against the tunnel wall. The air down here felt heavier, a musky scent that permeated his skin even though he had on a special jumpsuit designed for outer atmospheric excursions.

  "Last time it was you that made the wrong turn because you wouldn't turn off your mouth."

  Carver glared at him, huge white eyes glowing in the lights they carried strapped to their wrists.

  "I'm going to kick your ass."

  "Save it," said Dawes.

  A moo echoed up the tunnel.

  "Is that them?" Carver gasped in an exxagerated whisper.

  "We can hear you, moo," a voice called out to them from the darkness.

  "Damn man."

  "Damn it," Dawes lifted up the blaster rifle and fumbled with the magazine as he checked the charge.

  "Look, we could just turn around," Carver spit out. "We could go back up there and tell them there ain't no one home."

  The moo came again. Closer this time.

  And a snort.

  "Is that a bull snort."

  Dawes hefted the rifle and sighted on the darkness beyond.

  "We need a catch phrase," he said.

  "What, like let's roll?"

  Carver lifted up his rifle and held it to his shoulder. He ignored the wobbly light coming from Dawe's wrist as it shook in fear. He hoped his partner would do the same.

  "More in line with our circumstances," the cowboy drawled.

  "Let's roast 'em? Let's steak 'em?"

  "I like steak 'em."

  "Steak them," Carver put his gloved finger through the trigger guard and waited as the snort roared a little closer this time. "It's like we're fighting f-ing vampires."

  "Damn it Carver," Dawes muttered. "Don't tempt the freaking universe like that. Alien space cows are bad enough."

  Carver bit back a retort.

  Dawes was right. If the space cows teamed up with vampires, their trouble would get a whole lot worse.

  HIGH STEAKS

  Picked up by duke and nuke, plucked from the horns of a dilemma

  "The Admirabull has a real beef with you," Houston snickered at his own joke.

  "What did we do to him?"

  "You did crash his ship," said Dawes.

  "Hey man, we crashed his ship. You ain't pinning all that on me by myself."

  "You were driving."

  "Flying."

  "Whatever, you were at the wheel."

  Houston waved his hand for their attention.

  "He wants you both. The Cowncil has put a price on your head."

  "We can't tell them apart."

  "Yeah you can, the alien cows stand on two feet and wear clothes."

  "But when they go on all fours," said Duke.

  "They go on all four what?"

  "Like real cows."

  "They are real cows, though, right?" asked Dawes.

  "How am I supposed to know?"

  "Look man, why don't we just get a bunch of redneck cowboys and get out there and rodeo all them cows."

  Dawes ducked behind the tree and hunkered down.

  Since they lost the soldiers and lost the hoverjet, plus they were behind enemy lines, he figured it was going to be a long wait and he didn't plan to stand for it.

  The duration of it anyway.

  "Dude, not all cowboys are rednecks. That's why they wear hats, to keep their neck from getting red."

  Carver squatted next to him and planted his back against the rough bark of the tree.

  "Is THAT why they call them red necks?"

  "Yeah, from working out in the sun."

  "Cowboy's work in the sun."

  "But the hats, remember."

  "Don't rednecks wear hats? Them what do you call them? Trucker hats, with the white foam on front."

  "Yeah, sometimes. Just like sometimes cowboys can be rednecks but not every redneck is a cowboy. Geez, you would think someone so sensitive to stereotypes would be more careful about labelling people."

  "Who you calling sensitive?"

  "If the space boot fits."

  "Look man, I know I talk fast. You just got to keep up. I'm a business man," he snapped his fingers and moved his hands back and forth. "I'm dodging and weaving, I'm moving left, right. You look over there and I'm over here."

  "You're sitting right beside me."

  "Man, it's a metaphor."

  "A what?"

  "An expression that means something else."

  "Then why don't you say what you mean."

  "Cause when you talk, it's got to have a flavor all its own so it's unique. You think everybody wants to sound like one of them robot cows?"

  "Geez man, robot cows, vampire cows. You really like tempting the universe, don't you."

  "It's not about tempting the universe man. It's about realizing your full potential. Did you think I thought a week ago I'd be a space pilot fighting alien cows?"

  "You're not a pilot. Not technically."

  "Bullshit man. I've done flown three rockets in seven days. You show me some NASA space man that's done that."

  Dawes settled against the tree trunk and crossed his arms.

  "Stinks out here."

  "Don't change the subject," said Carver.

  "You're just jealous."

  "Me?" Dawes head nodded. "Jealous?

  Don't make me laugh. Ha. Ha. Ha-"

  His head drooped on his arms.

  "Hey man, you alright?"

  Carver leaned in closer to check on his partner. His head kept sliding until he came to a rest against his shoulder and his eyes fluttered shut and he began snoring.

  Two bulls strutted over the hill.

  "The methane worked fast," said the first bull guard.

  "Moo," said the second.

  "No you didn't," scoffed the first. "It was my idea. Don't try to steal credit for my work Harold. And get Tech to check your translator. It's on the fritz again."

  "Moo."

  "There's no need to curse at me. I'm not the one who broke it."

  "Moo."

  "Harold, I can't talk to you when you're acting like this. I knew it was going to be trouble pulling guard duty with you. Go get a couple of cows to escort these prisoners back to the Cowncil."

  "Moo."

  "Don't make me pull rank Harold."

  The second bull snorted, pawed the ground and glowered at the larger bovine beside him. After a second, he turned and trotted back over the hill, leaving the first bull to stand over the two unconscious men.

  CHAPTER

  CHAPTER

  "It's a cow."

  "It's a bull."

  "Same thing man."

  "One's a boy, one's a girl."

  "Look man, I know you think you've got this whole cowboy thing going down, but cows can be boys too."

  "Bull."

  "No, it ain't bull. It's the truth."

  "Boy cows are
called bulls."

  "That's what I said. Boy cows."

  "Bulls."

  "Now you're just messing with me. Don't mess with me man. You know how I get."

  Dawes pointed over Carver's shoulder.

  "Get going."

  He spun around on his boots and started running.

  Carver didn't even look over his shoulder. He began sprinting after Dawes, caught him in four strides and pushed past him without a glance.

  "If you ain't going to run, get out of the way!"

  The skinny man raced across the green pasture, tips of his toes sending up little puffs of dust and grass as he ran. He reached the fence and vaulted it like an olympic hurdler.

  At least, that was his plan.

  The tip of his boot cracked against the top rung of the wooden fence and stopped his leg. The rest of his body kept going, and he did a faceplant into the pungent earth.

  Carver lifted his head and snorted out dirt.

  "Shit," he muttered.

  Dawes vaulted the fence and landed beside him.

  "Big pile of it."

  He started running again.

  Carver glanced down to his soft pungent landing pad and gagged. It was indeed a vast cow patty, one so large no terrestrial cow could manage.

  The bull behind him roared.

  No moo.

  Nothing familiar about the sound, a cross between a lion's screech and a howler monkey's warble, amplified by a multitude of genetic experiments that stretched and tortured vocal chords not designed for human speech.