Hell Is Empty

by Travis E. Hughes

  “No,” Drago said. “Far as I know, we’re just to keep the peace so that business can run as usual. We’re to protect Mr. Yanker’s businesses from outside interests moving in.”

  “So by that,” Siringo said. “If we root out Kidd Wylie and bring him in to sit with Hattie and then take him back to New Vegas’ jail to be executed for killing those men, the Red Scarves won’t say anything about it?”

  “I mean, as far as I know,” Drago said. “We don’t work with Kidd Wylie.”

  Talbert nodded his head and scanned the area once more for Red Scarves.

  “Why the hells does he hire a dozen men to do the job of four or five security officers?” Roslyn asked.

  “Honestly,” Drago said. “He was afraid of Grover and how he came at him. Grover tried to ruin him. Run him out of town. His own town.”

  “I still can’t figure how Kidd Wylie comes into it, then,” Talbert said, tugging at his ear lobe.

  “Maybe we should look into Grover’s former men and their involvement with Kidd Wylie?” Roslyn suggested.

  “Yep,” Talbert said, thinking the same thing. “All right, here’s the deal. We’re here for Kidd Wylie. If he really doesn’t have anything to do with the Red Scarves, and if you boys don’t hold a grudge, or at least aren’t seeking vengeance for New Vegas, then we’ll stay out of each other’s way.”

  “Sounds reasonable,” Drago said, looking at the other three Red Scarves. They all seemed to consent.

  “Go back up the hill and tell your boss that,” Roslyn said, holstering her gun.

  Frank Lee stepped out from behind the hover truck and tipped his hat to Drago. It was returned with a sneer.

  But the Red Scarves disengaged without further incident and appeared to deliver the message to Lu Yanker.

  *

  “What’s your gut telling you, Frank?” Roslyn asked as they sat around the fire in front of the abandoned prospector’s cabin. Puff fluttered his wings on her shoulder. She stroked his chin.

  Talbert drank an orange Jarritos while Hattie stood just out of the fire glow’s reach sparring the air with her sword. Repeating moves over and over until they were fluid and precise. Frank sat watching her when Roslyn pulled her foldout chair next to his.

  “How old do you estimate this Kidd Wylie to be?” Frank asked, still watching Hattie move. He wore a look on his face of eagerness that suggested he wished he were sparring her. He slightly moved with her by subtle shoulder drops and neck movements.

  “What do you think, Bill? How old would Kidd Wylie be now?” Roslyn asked across the fire. Talbert snorted and looked up into his brain.

  “Either late teens or early twenties,” Talbert said after doing some calculations.

  “So he’s still, literally, a kid,” Frank said. Something about the word kid reminded Talbert suddenly of Rex Omnious. A dire sense of panic and urgency overwhelmed him. He needed to get back to that case. That was the only case that really mattered. But then he told himself to breathe. Remember what Hattie said: what he couldn’t control, he couldn’t afford to obsess over. A powerful thirst swept across his arid mouth. He tried to drown it with orange soda. It lacked the burn he sought.

  “What does that tell us?” Roslyn asked, a small smirk appearing at the corners of her mouth.

  “That he’s most likely careless,” Frank said.

  “Reckless, for sure,” Talbert agreed.

  “If he’s reckless and careless and we know it, how does that help us?” Roslyn asked, still sporting the smirk.

  “Assuming someone paid him to take out those men,” Frank said, tugging at his white glove to make it tighter.

  “It would have to be Lu Yanker, right?” Hattie asked from the shadows. Grace had purchased a bottle of whiskey and her and Siringo were passed out drunk in the cabin. Roslyn had a shot but that was it. She needed to focus. Frank seemed agitated at Grace and Siringo’s giggling and loud talk. But then the bottle was empty and they grew tired and crawled off to sleep. Roslyn wondered if that’s all they did in that cabin. The tangled webs we weave, she thought.

  “Given what we know, yes, Yanker is the most likely person to pay to have Grover’s men killed,” Frank said nodding toward the darkness.

  “Drago doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground, yet. Despite what he thinks he does,” Roslyn added.

  Talbert grumbled something.

  “What’s that?” asked Frank.

  “Feels like everybody’s lying,” Talbert cleared his throat.

  “Okay, but assuming he got paid,” Frank said. “He would have gotten paid handsomely for taking out eleven men. So what does a reckless punk, ex-street thug do with a huge payday?”

  “Blows it on partying,” Roslyn said instinctively. It’s what she’d done in New York.

  “Exactly,” Frank said, pointing his white finger at her and giving her a wink.

  “So we need to figure out where some young outlaw with a huge ego and tons of instant money would go,” Hattie said, sheathing her sword and coming into the flickering orange light.

  The snap of a twig brought all four of their guns out, aimed at the darkness. Talbert had been first and the only one standing.

  A hulking silhouette stood just out of the glow.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “If you were here to kill us, you would have already started shooting,” Talbert said. Drago stepped into the fire’s glow, hands raised.

  “A little late to try and get your old job back, no?” Frank said, looking at Talbert for support.

  “Suck it, Frank,” Drago said and turned to Roslyn. “Listen, I wanted you to know, Yanker’s lying to you.”

  “No shit,” Talbert said.

  “What about?” Roslyn asked.

  “I’m pretty sure he paid Kidd Wylie,” Drago said. “I think so anyway. He knows more than he’s saying any way.”

  “What makes you pretty sure?” Frank asked. Drago refused to look at him, instead kept his focus on Roslyn.

  “I’ve heard the guys talking,” Drago continued to Roslyn. “After Grover’s Dead Bunnies were killed, Kidd Wylie showed up to ask Mr. Yanker to pay him for the service.”

  “Wait, Dead Bunnies?” Roslyn asked, turning to Talbert.

  “Is that what that symbol means I keep seeing tagged around town?” Talbert asked.

  “The bunny ears and the Xs for eyes?” Drago asked with a nod.

  Talbert nodded and followed it with a grunt.

  “We’re looking at a gang war then?” Hattie asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Drago said. “Not exactly. I think Kidd Wylie just tipped the scales but not clear why.”

  “Speaking of why?” asked Frank, taking his seat back by the fire. “Why’d you come out here to tell us that?”

  “How’d you find us?” Roslyn asked joining him.

  “I spotted Grace in town earlier buying a bottle of whiskey,” Drago shrugged. “I followed her.”

  “How long have you been watching us, pervert?” Roslyn asked.

  “I waited until night fall, but then I fell asleep,” Drago said, squatting before the fire, holding his hands up to the flames for warmth.

  “You fell asleep on the job?” Frank asked with a grin.

  “I’m not on the job,” Drago said curtly. “I’m here because I used to call you guys my friends. I feel horrible about what happened on the ship. I was drunk and jealous and stupid.”

  “Are you drunk now?” Roslyn asked.

  “I was when I saw Grace and followed her,” Drago said, lowering his thick head. His man-bun perched atop his crown caught the light. “I’m sober now, though. I slept it off, remember.”

  “Right,” Frank said behind an embellished nod.

  “So what are you trying to tell us?” Talbert said.

  “That I don’t think Lu hired Kidd to kill the Dead Bunnies, but after he did, I think he went to Lu and asked him to be compensated for it. He’d done him a big favor.” Drago rubbed his hands together and blew into them.r />
  “Right, but why?” Roslyn asked.

  “That I do not know,” Drago shrugged.

  “Did he have a previous beef with these Dead Bunnies?” Talbert asked, trying to take another sip of orange soda and realizing the bottle was empty.

  “Could be, yeah. I mean, who knows,” Drago said. “But the Red Scarves were brought in solely as protection. As far as I know. Think about it. War’s bad for business. And besides that, Grover was vulnerable after loosing eleven men. If Lu wanted him dead, or gone, he’d be gone. Right?”

  “But we’re here now, to protect him, at least that’s what it looks like,” Hattie said.

  “True. But it took us months to get here,” said Drago. “Yanker had plenty of time to get rid of Grover. He didn’t do it. He’s out here like everybody else, to make money. He’s not a bad guy when he’s sober.”

  “He must be one hells of an ugly drunk,” Roslyn said, turning to Frank who shrugged and agreed.

  “He is,” Drago nodded.

  “So did Yanker pay the kid?” Frank asked.

  “Not at first. But I think the kid convinced him. Not sure about that. That was before we got here, remember. I’m only picking up pieces here and there.”

  “It’s like we have a man on the inside,” Hattie said, smiling at him.

  “No we don’t,” Frank said.

  “But sort of you do,” Drago said. “It would appear that the Red Scarves are more concerned with getting paid steadily than seeking vengeance.”

  “But what about their reputation?” Roslyn asked.

  “What about ours?” Drago said, including himself.

  “You mean ours?” Frank corrected him.

  “You know what I mean.” Drago’s cheeks and neck went red and he glanced briefly toward Roslyn and then to the fire.

  “Do we?” Frank tilted his head and looked at Talbert.

  “Well, thanks, Drago, either way,” Roslyn said. “What happens if your new friends find out you were out here talking to us?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think I’m betraying them really. I’m just clarifying a situation. Almost like an ambassador would.”

  “Ambassador Dred,” Frank said in a mockingly deep tone. Drago smirked at him.

  “What do you mean about our reputation?” Roslyn asked.

  “Word travels. People know who you guys are,” Drago said. “The Red Scarves don’t want another battle with you. Not yet. The local Ed is a businessman first. Much like you Roslyn.”

  “Okay,” Talbert said, not convinced.

  “I gotta say, though,” Frank said almost making a tisk-tisk noise, while wagging a gloved finger. “Twelve guns on the payroll doesn’t seem like good business. It’s excessive. It seems like you have an army for nothing but show in that case.”

  “Well, he’s certainly afraid of something,” Roslyn added.

  “I think he already lost one fortune and is very afraid of losing another,” Drago said. “He got a second chance when they found gold. He still owned a lot of property, you know? But then this guy comes to town with eleven Dead Bunnies and what’s Mr. Yanker do? He hires twelve Red Scarves as a counter. Right?”

  “Are there more Dead Bunnies coming?” Frank asked.

  “No,” Roslyn said turning back to him. “His Dead Bunnies get killed, he replaces them with us. We took out Jules Divine. We took out Star Belly. We took down Lucky Lahky Reems. Gods. We fought alongside Dogg Holly. His ex is in our organization.”

  “Passed out in the cabin with your old buddy Siringo,” Frank said with a dry smirk. Roslyn thought she detected a hint of pained jealousy in Frank’s eyes.

  “Well, guys, I wanted to let you know what I knew,” Drago said, standing and stretching by the fire.

  “Thanks, Drago,” Roslyn said, offering her hand. He smiled politely and shook it. He then nodded to everyone except Frank and strolled out of the glow. Just at the edge of the light, Frank called to him.

  “Hey. If we go to war, Drago, or should I call you Dred,” Frank asked the big man. “You going to shoot us?”

  “There’s no reason to go to war. That’s the point of having big armies,” Drago said. “You know, I learned a lot from being around Dogg Holly and you guys too. Bill. You know and I think there’s a better way to live, man. I do.”

  “You were obviously not paying attention,” Talbert said, feeling the ghost of Dogg Holly pass through him like a sudden breeze. Had he used an accent?

  “There is a better way,” Roslyn said, standing and bowing her head slightly to him. “I agree.”

  “Hey look, we agree on something, what do you know?” Drago said disappearing into the black desert. Only one moon shone in the night sky, the other spending its time basking just over the horizon.

  “You know what, though,” Frank said after a long pause to play something out in his brain. Drago had long been absorbed by the night and they were left with the crackle and pop of their fire. “We haven’t been hired to protect his businesses. We’ve been hired to bring Kidd Wylie to him. You don’t think he wants to hire the kid to kill the Red Scarves?”

  “So we’re bringing the kid in for a business meeting?” Roslyn asked, her voice rising slightly.

  “Think about it,” Frank said. “You think Arjun Grover gives a shit about those Dead Bunnies? Like on a personal level. Like he bonded with those men and now that they’ve been killed they deserve justice?”

  “Probably not,” Roslyn said, turning up her smirk.

  “Kidd Wylie exposed Grover,” Frank continued, his white gloves flinging about as he spoke. It was difficult not to get caught up watching them. “And then he goes to his rival and asks for payment for services rendered.”

  “According to Drago he killed those men on spec,” Roslyn said, nodding and looking around to make sure they were all on the same page.

  “That also means that the kid is pretty damn smart for a reckless street thug,” Frank added. “He knew the local landscape enough to know that eliminating one faction benefited another and which side would pay the most.”

  “I don’t know how smart that is, but, okay,” Talbert said. “It ain’t stupid I guess.”

  “That’s disturbing to me,” Hattie said with a frown. “Who would be so… calculating?”

  “Reminds me of Rex Omnious,” Roslyn said, giving Talbert side eyes.

  Talbert took a deep breath and grimaced subtly.

  “There’s a whole generation of psychopaths born half a generation too early for the war, but old enough to have been children playing at war and missing out on the real thing,” Frank said.

  This struck Roslyn oddly. Oddly because of the fact that Roslyn, Hattie, and him were part of that generation. Calling their generation a bunch of psychopaths felt a bit extreme, but if there were to be any validity to it, the implications would prove horrifying at best. Roslyn thought of her theory of hell. They were well into it now. Hitler most likely walked among them. At least perhaps he crawled among them and pooped in his diaper.

  “Now those bastards have entered the arena of adulthood,” Talbert said. “The things they saw growing up… The trauma.”

  Talbert trailed off. Images of Emyah flashed before him. Anguish spilled all over him in slow motion, like warm gravy poured slowly over his head. He felt his eyes close momentarily; it was a familiar ritual of grief. His eyebrows furrowed and his skin strained. A silent scream issued from pursed lips. Tears would have come … years ago. Now it was just a ritual. He remembered the want to stop it, to look away, to think of anything else. Thirst pulled at him from some deep well. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Frank suggested they offer a reward for credible information leading to Kidd Wylie’s whereabouts. Roslyn sent Siringo back to New Vegas to purchase fifty cheap plastic holoprojectors. In the meantime Roslyn, Talbert, and Frank sought out Arjun Grover for another interview.

  “So you hired a gang called the Dead Bunnies as your muscle?” Roslyn as
ked.

  “I had to protect my gold and my business investments,” Grover said, standing over a man and his robot installing a solar powered generator to the metal shipping container.

  “Was the idea of hiring such a notorious crew meant to intimidate your rival?” Roslyn asked, watching how the robot spliced the wires and ran a cable up the wall at the same time. Two separate appendages working independently.

  “It was meant to intimidate anyone who wanted to try and steal from me,” Grover said, keeping his hands in the pockets of his expansive pinstriped slacks.

  “So what happened when the kid killed your men? Why haven’t your enemies descended upon you and taken everything you own?” Frank asked.

  “I have no idea, perhaps it was a matter of opportunity?” Grover shrugged.

  “Perhaps there’s more to it, is what you might mean,” Talbert said.

  “More to it?” Grover frowned at him.

  “Yeah, than you’re saying,” Talbert grunted.

  “Well, I don’t know what you mean exactly,” Grover said with a false grin. “But, I mean, yeah, I can concede that there is probably more to the situation then even I’m aware of. Or else, you’re right, they would have come down on me by now.”

  “And this is just now occurring to you?” Frank asked.

  “Well, of course not,” Grover pretended to laugh, but there was a nervous edge to it. “But when I sent out the warrant I made it public, so perhaps the idea that you folks would be coming here to investigate caused my enemies pause. Right? If they acted on me in the interval, then, you know, you guys would bring them to justice. You’d bring them to the Holy Avians.” Grover made the sign of the holy Birds with his thumbs intertwined and the backs of his hands extended like wings.

  Roslyn shrugged at Frank and then glanced at Talbert. It almost made sense.

  “That and I have allies in this town,” Grover added. “Mr. Yanker isn’t certain who exactly is against him. We all do business together, so, we have to keep things on some level professional.”

  “What else can you tell us about Kidd Wylie?” Roslyn asked, hoping for a new strategy.