The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus

by Michael Anderle

  The bounty hunter backed the truck farther down the road. No reason to risk an RPG attack on his beloved F-350. Only luck had saved it from destruction when his house was blown up, and even that incident had been far too close for comfort.

  James grabbed a go-case he’d picked up earlier from the back and fished out the last few pieces of equipment. Just because he didn’t believe Schwartz would be much of a threat didn’t mean he shouldn’t be careful. He might be wrong. The man had artifacts.

  With plenty of spare mags, multiple throwing knives, and a few more grenades than usual, James was ready to kick some ass. He might not be able to destroy an entire international gang with his loadout, but it’d work for one man, even a well-prepared one.

  James pulled a few jammers out of the go-case before tossing it into the backseat.

  “Jamming now.”

  “Talk to you later, Mr. Brownstone,” Heather replied.

  James activated the first jammer and set it on the passenger seat. He slapped the second on his wrist, then pulled out his phone and tossed it on the seat too. It’d be useless with the jamming anyway.

  Hope no nature lover is running their drone nearby.

  Despite the warm temperatures, he was still wearing one of his now-standard-issue Shay-disapproved shabby gray coats. It was nice to have a few extra pockets filled with gear when you were about to blow something up or kill a man or twenty.

  The bounty hunter jogged up the road and activated the other jammer. He hadn’t spotted any drones and neither had Heather on his drive up, but this would save him from any surprises from above, and maybe a few household defenses if Heather couldn’t handle them or they were wireless access only.

  He approached the gate, his gun still in his holster. With the house so far up the road, James doubted the battle was going to start until he kicked in the front door. He’d worried that Schwartz might run, but Heather’s surveillance hadn’t spotted any unusual movement.

  James snorted. Schwartz had bragged about his artifacts, but his gate lacked useful magic like the glamour redirecting people from the School of Necessary Magic. He wasn’t as big a deal as he thought.

  You’re not so tough, asshole. We’ll see who is crying and begging by the time this shit is over.

  The bounty hunter walked the width of the gate until he found the latch keeping it closed.

  “Yeah, so much for your badass security. But I’ll give you this, asshole. It’s hard to hack a simple latch.” James reached over to the gate to flip the latch.

  A roar deafened James and flame blinded him. A few seconds passed before he realized he’d been flung into the air. Several more passed before he slammed into the ground, kicking up dirt. Dirt, rock, and bits of metal rained over the area.

  He groaned and shook his head. His shabby grab coat was now only half there, but he hadn’t lost any equipment. Burn marks and small bleeding cuts covered his body. There was a huge crater where the gate had once been.

  The amulet’s whispers picked up, hurried and accusatory.

  James stood and dusted himself off. The pants, coat, and shirt were a loss, but he didn’t even need a healing potion; not so bad for getting blown up.

  He frowned. Heather had been watching Schwartz, which meant the man had trapped the gate before James had called him.

  What a paranoid fuck.

  “That should be the worst of it,” he muttered. “That asshole thought he could blow me up at the gate, but he didn’t know about the amulet.” James took a few unsteady steps forward, his legs and arms aching. “Okay, good hit—I’ll give him that—but he needs to finish me off to win this shit.”

  James frowned and stepped to the side of the road. Schwartz had probably trapped the road farther up. There was no reason to walk into his next surprise.

  A few minutes passed as James proceeded toward the house, thinking about how much fun it’d be to throw the asshole through a window.

  Fucking Schwartz. You should never have stolen from the Professor. When I get to you, I’m gonna—

  The ground gave way and James fell into sharpened metal spikes. He grunted at the sting. The trap produced a few new minor scrapes, but no serious injury unless he counted the new hole in his left boot.

  Fuck. I just bought these boots last week.

  James jumped and hoisted himself out of the pit. He stared at the pit and shook his head. If he hadn’t had his amulet on he would have ended up skewered in several places. A healing potion might not have even been enough.

  Again, even if he could communicate with his hacker, it wouldn’t have been helpful. James laughed. Schwartz understood the power of KISS.

  Something clinked in James’ pocket. He frowned and checked his pouches. He’d started with three potions, but the shattered remains of one filled one of his pouches.

  “Fucking Schwartz. Those things aren’t cheap.”

  The amulet’s murmurs and whispers were near-constant now. It was excited. Maybe even proud and ready to prove its power.

  James stared at the pit and the road. Anything could be trapped on the way to the house, and he’d been lucky that the attacks had all been conventional. For all he knew, Heather was stopping missiles from raining down on him.

  Some weird magical power lance might kill him before he had a chance to drink a potion, and even if Schwartz had been bragging about his power, the man had a history of stealing artifacts. He could have almost anything in the house.

  “Main road it is. At least if I keep blowing up, it’ll knock me closer to the house.”

  James continued up the road. He was almost to the house when he heard the click. He looked down, frowning at the portion of the road now depressed. The fake asphalt paint job seemed obvious now, not that it did him any good.

  “Damn it.”

  He took a deep breath and jumped forward. Several loud twangs sounded, but nothing exploded. A moment later, he spotted the dark spheres hurling through the air over him.

  “What the fuck?”

  James leapt to the side as the spheres exploded with a hiss, releasing a cloud of greenish liquid. His quick movements spared him from the bulk of the attack. His legs stung, and new holes appeared in his pants. A few more traps and he’d be finishing this job in nothing but his socks and a tactical harness.

  “Fucking acid?” He snorted. “You kidding me? Who the fuck actually makes an acid trap?”

  James scrubbed a hand over his face. He ached and bled and his clothes were shredded, and he wasn’t even at the house yet.

  It’s like I woke up on the wrong fucking side of the bed this morning.

  11

  James continued his death march toward the house. The fun had continued with a burning arrow shower and a bouncing incendiary mine. The pit filled with what he assumed were poisoned spikes had been a nice touch.

  How long has this guy been setting up traps?

  He’d made it out of the pit and to the front door without collapsing, but he wasn’t sure if the amulet protected him from the poison or the poison had never made into his bloodstream. Either way, it was yet another spot where he’d have been killed without his amulet.

  Guess it’s a good thing Alison browbeat me into wearing this all the time.

  It’d become easier to ignore the whispers in his mind with his recent constant use. It was almost like white noise; there but not something demanding his concentration.

  James downed a healing potion. The burns, cuts, and aches on his body weren’t lethal, but they’d slow him down, and he was done underestimating Schwartz. The man might be an arrogant fuck, but he also was paranoid on a level even Shay would find extreme.

  The aches faded, and the wounds sealed themselves. New skin grew over the burns. He remembered halfway through to try and time the healing process, but by then it was too late to figure out anything useful.

  I’ve taken plenty of healing potions with the amulet on. I guess it’s a good thing that it’s not stopping the healing, but it doesn’t seem to
be making it stronger either.

  James’ attention drifted to his wrist. His second jammer was missing, probably in a pit or melted to slag on the road.

  He reached up. His earpiece was also gone, a victim of the traps. So much for having Heather help him inside the house.

  It was a good plan anyway. Doesn’t matter. She did her part beforehand.

  James took several deep breaths and stared at the front door. He shrugged and knocked hard.

  “Fucking open up, Schwartz. You’ve got to have seen that all your traps didn’t kill me, so just give up and make this a lot easier on both of us. I’m already really pissed off here, and you don’t want to piss me off more. I’m not here for your ass. I’m just here for the plaque. Give it to me, and I walk away. I don’t give a fuck who you screw over after that.”

  Should I kick open the door or try to get in through a window? He’s going to blow me up either way. Or throw fucking acid on me. Or burn me. At least it hasn’t been magic so far. Fucker.

  “Fuck it. I want this day to be over.” James slammed his boot into the door. Wood splintered, and the door flew back.

  To his surprise, nothing exploded, poured acid on him, or set him on fire.

  “Come out, asshole,” he yelled. “This is over. You gave it your best shot, but I’m still fucking standing.”

  Again, no response.

  Damn you, Schwartz. You’re really pissing me off, asshole.

  A backpack sat against a wall opposite the front door. The furniture had been pushed against the walls.

  James stepped into the living room, frowning. He pulled out his gun.

  “You arrogant piece of shit,” yelled Schwartz’s voice from all around him. “I don’t care if you survived a few minor tricks. Now you’re going to face the ultimate power. I’ve been thinking about it ever since your little threat. The famous James Brownstone. Once I kill you, everyone will know how powerful I am.”

  “Better assholes than you have tried.”

  “Doubtful. It doesn’t matter. The end time is upon us, Brownstone. Chaos and madness. The collapse of civilization. Fools like you focus on the now instead of the future, but I’ve been focused on the future for years; ready, careful, and collecting what I need to survive.”

  “Is that what this is all about? You’re some sort of survivalist nutjob?”

  Schwartz scoffed. “I’m nothing of the sort. I’m a man of vision. A survivor.”

  James spun, his gun at the ready, seeking the man or a hint of the man. A shimmer or an unusual shadow, perhaps. Nothing. Big surprise; a paranoid asshole could hide.

  “Smite-Williams crying about losing his plaque. Pathetic. I once respected him, but now I see he’s weak like all of you. A fool.”

  “He’s not the one hiding from me.”

  “See the backpack, Brownstone?”

  James’ gaze flicked to the backpack. “Yeah. What about it? Does it have a bomb or something?”

  “Nothing like that. It contains the plaque. Kill me, and you can take it back to that pathetic old drunk. I won’t be able to stop you, after all.”

  “It doesn’t have to go down this way. How about I just take it and walk out of here? I’m not interested in you. I’m just interested in the artifact.”

  “But I’m interested in you.” Schwartz cackled. “You think you can walk out of here after insulting me? You thought your mere name and reputation would make me beg for your forgiveness. Screw you, Brownstone. I have the power here, not you.”

  James grunted. “You haven’t killed me yet, have you? I’m beginning to think you can’t do anything but ruin my clothes and piss me off, asshole, and you’ve really pissed me off. You’re lucky I’m even offering you this deal. If you’re so fucking tough, then stop hiding. Pussies hide. Men show themselves.”

  The amulet murmured in excitement, eager for the confrontation.

  Shadows pooled across the room and slid toward each other. James narrowed his eyes. The shadows flowed together and lifted from the floor, forming a white-suited man. A soft violet glow surrounded Schwartz’s body, and a huge golden pendant hung around his neck.

  James grunted. “Finally decided to stop hiding?”

  “No. I’ve decided to teach you a lesson, Brownstone, about arrogance. You don’t fear the future because you fear no man, and that’s a mistake. I understand fear, and that gives me power.”

  “You are one of the more annoying fucks I’ve run into in a long time. I almost think I prefer King Pyro’s rants to this shit.”

  Schwartz lifted his hands. He wore thick leather gloves covered in runes. One glove was white, the other black. “I’ll make this easy for you, Brownstone. Go ahead and put on the backpack. I won’t attack you until you do. Once you pick it up, I’ll humble you by taking your life.”

  “We’ll see about that.” James squeezed off several shots.

  Schwartz smirked as the bullets bounced off him. “A gun? Pathetic.” He nodded toward the backpack. “Or you can run. I’ll accept that, too. Go ahead, Brownstone. Tuck your tail between your legs and run away. I won’t promise I won’t kill you, but if you run fast enough, you might be able to escape with your life.”

  The bounty hunter holstered his pistol, flipped the man off, and walked over to the backpack. “Not impressed. Plenty of assholes are bulletproof.” He grabbed the backpack and slipped it over his shoulders. “That protection from the pendant?”

  “Yes. Too bad you can’t get it off. You stand no chance.”

  James lifted his hand and concentrated. The amulet enhanced his barely-there telekinesis. He avoided the power because it didn’t seem all that useful in most firefights, but maybe it’d help.

  The pendant didn’t budge. Of course.

  Schwartz frowned. “What are you trying, Brownstone? Some little trick? You don’t understand how many artifacts I have on me right now, and how many I’ve activated. The potions I’ve drunk. Whatever pathetic magic you’ve begged from Smite-Williams won’t help you here. You’re at my mercy. I am your god.”

  James dropped his hand and shrugged. “It was worth a shot.” He whipped out a throwing knife and sent it straight toward the man’s head, but it bounced off like the bullets before.

  “I’ve got to say, you’re a bit of a disappointment.” Schwartz shrugged.

  He lifted his white glove and snapped his fingers, and a purple sphere of energy winked into existence and flew toward James. The ball slammed into him, knocking him halfway across the room. The sizzle of his flesh filled his nose.

  He hissed as he landed on the burned flesh of his chest. His harness fell off, and he grabbed the healing potion out of the pouch and stuck in his pocket.

  “Nothing,” Schwartz ranted. “Weak. Pathetic.”

  “Do you ever shut the fuck up?” James stood and shook his head. “Guess I’m gonna have to do this the old-fashioned way.”

  “Now you die.” Schwartz snapped his fingers again.

  Another blast tore into James. He grunted at the impact, but this time it only stung.

  The amulet’s excited whispers increased.

  The smile fell from Schwartz’s face. “What? How are you still standing?”

  James grinned despite the pain in his chest. “Got to say, Schwartz, you’re a bit of a disappointment. That was your big surprise? You should have killed me when you had the chance. Everyone gets one chance to kill me, but after that I make no promises. Now it’s my turn.”

  The bounty hunter charged Schwartz. The other man flicked the wrist of the hand wearing the black glove. A blue energy blade popped into existence and sliced James’ arm. He growled as his blood sprayed across the floor.

  “Fuck.”

  Schwartz sliced at James with another blue energy blade. Pain jolted through the bounty hunter’s body, but there was no new wound. “You won’t win, Brownstone. You can’t win against me. I’m better than you. Smarter. I see reality. You see only false hope.”

  “I’ve had enough of your shit.” Jame
s rose with an uppercut. His fist slammed into Schwartz, and the white-suited man flew backward with a yelp. He crashed to the ground, rolling several times before stopping. “You’re a pretty pathetic god, Schwartz.”

  Schwartz wiped blood off his mouth and stood. “If I hadn’t been wearing the pendant that would have killed me.” He glared at James. “A lucky hit, but you haven’t won.”

  “That was the point, asshole. You wanted to convince me that you were a tough guy.” James gritted his teeth at the spreading ache in his arm. “You win. I’m convinced. So now I’m gonna beat you down like I do tough guys. Your survival isn’t guaranteed, though. Sorry about that, asshole.”

  “You’re just a bounty hunter. You can’t beat me.”

  James ignored the pain and rushed Schwartz again. His fists flew. Left. Right. Right. Left. The other man jerked under the powerful blows. The bounty hunter finished with an elbow to the man’s face.

  Schwartz flew backward, crashing into and embedding in the living room wall with a groan. His face was battered, and his nose askew.

  The amulet murmured something in James’ mind. Mockery, James thought.

  Not impressed with the competition?

  James shook out his fists. “Thought you were gonna tear me apart atom by atom, asshole. Where’s all that tough shit now? I was expecting the world’s greatest badass, but instead, I got some survivalist asshole with delusions of grandeur.”

  The other man fell to his knees, blood pouring from his mouth and nose. He spat out blood and teeth. “I’ll fucking kill you, Brownstone. I will make your death slow and painful.”

  “You know how many times I’ve heard that? All you’ve managed is to kill my clothes, fucker.” James grinned. A little cockiness was almost as good as a painkiller. “I’m pissed about the boots, though.”

  Schwartz reached into his pocket and pulled out a small ring. “You haven’t won, Brownstone.” He slipped on the ring and stood, his eyes wide and a crooked smile on his face. He ran toward the hallway.

  “You’re fucking trying to escape now?” James shook his head and jogged after him.