Coilhunter - A Science Fiction Western Adventure (A Coilhunter Chronicles Novel) (The Coilhunter Chronicles Book 1)

by Dean F. Wilson

   He grabbed the boy's body, holding him close, ignoring the limp limbs and bobbing head. He let the fire lie to him and tell him that the child's body was still warm. He let the flames lick his own face, blistering the skin. He shielded the boy from it as much as he could, shielding him with his own body, feeling the flames so that Aaron wouldn't, fighting back the thought that maybe he couldn't feel at all.

   He raced down the stairs, those crumbling steps, feeling the fire lash his legs, feeling the smoke crush his lungs. His knees almost buckled several times, and if it was just him, he might have let them buckle. He might have just given up and leapt into the void. But for now, he ran.

   He came outside, feeling the fresh air for what seemed like the first time. The burns felt suddenly more severe. He dropped to the ground, still clutching Aaron in his arms.

   He crawled away from the house, cradling the boy, then laying him down gently on the dusty earth. He buried the words that came to mind: From ashes to ashes, from dust to dust, from earth to earth.

   It was always hard to wake little Aaron, that wild wanderer, who wandered in his dreams. He was a wistful child, who always had a faraway look in his eyes. His eyes were closed now. If they weren't, they might have had the most faraway look of all.

   “Aaron,” Nox said. He pressed his hands against the boy's chest, pumping it gently. There was no resistance, no gentle rise and fall, no little thumping of a heart.

   “Aaron,” he said more desperately. His throat was raw. His face was raw. His lungs were raw. Somewhere, deep down, his heart was raw too.

   He tried everything, but nothing worked.

   The boy never came back.

   Nox wanted to cry, but the tears were all dried up in him. Everything was ashes now.

   He looked out into the blackness of the night, trying to see the gunman, trying to find who did this. He knew it was no accident. The fire was meant to look like one, but the shooter stayed to make sure that no one escaped. Maybe Nox was meant to die too. He almost wished he did. The only thing that stopped that wish was this dark, burgeoning sense of anger, this overwhelming need for justice, for vengeance.

   He stared into the blackness, wanting to scream at whoever stood in the shadows. He searched for them, but saw nothing. He swore a silent oath that he would hunt them, that he would chase them through the shadows, even into the fires of Hell itself. They would hear the clap of thunder on their heels, and feel the blast of lightning from his gun.

  Nox awoke in a sweat, as if he had been too close to the fire. It was always that same, all too vivid, dream. But it wasn't just a dream. It was a memory, burned into his mind as much as his skin. The campfire had gone out, leaving him alone with the shadows, except for Sally, still sleeping, like little Aaron. As he sat there, reliving it all, he wished for the oblivion of dreamless nights. Sometimes he wished he never stirred again. That was the thing about bad dreams in the Wild North. You still had them when you woke up.

  24 – THE WALL OF THE WEST

  Sally commented on the Coilhunter's silence the next morning, and his tossing and turning in the dust of the night. His silence continued for much of the journey that day, until they came to the Wall of the West, a series of steep plateaus that extended for miles. From a distance, they looked impenetrable. Up close, they could see the narrow gaps between the cliffs, forming a maze of channels through the wall.

   “I don't usually come this way,” Sally told him. “I go north first, then around. Heard you can get stuck in the cracks.”

   “This is a shortcut.”

   “You know what they say about shortcuts.”

   “Yes,” he said. “Long journeys and dead ends.”

   “You said it.”

   He didn't travel this way himself, or at least not often. There was no reason to come out this far. This was the wild of the Wild North, and people still liked their creature comforts. You wouldn't get any of them out here, just the creatures. The towering walls offered great shelter from the sun, but they also offered shade to the desert wildlife. He'd seen some of them scurrying into the crevices on his travels. He'd crushed some of them beneath the monowheel too.

   They drove straight towards that monstrous barrier, barely seeing the small channel between the rocks until they were right on top of it. The air was cool and refreshing there.

   “Y'know, the Regime wanted to mine these rocks,” Sally said.

   “Did they?” Nox asked with disinterest. He hadn't much time for the Regime, or stories about them, and there were plenty of those. That war seemed far-off. There was a different battle between criminality and common decency right here in the Wild North.

   “Lookin' for iron, I'd wager.”

   “Yeah.”

   “Thank God we're a bit too wild for 'em, eh?”

   “Yeah,” Nox said. “Or thank the Devil.”

   “Ain't that the Regime leader?”

   “I thought you said it was Blood Johnson.”

   “Well,” she said. “I've met a lot of devils.” She didn't say anything else, but he took her silence to mean she thought one of them was him.

   The initial journey was quick, but then they came to the weeds that tangled in the shadow and grabbed the treads of the monowheel as it passed. They grew fierce and thick there, climbing up the walls themselves. Nox had to stop now and then just to slice through some with his knives.

   Then they entered a kind of mire, where the sand was damp. Far be it for them to curse the location of water, but they cursed it all the same, for the wheel stuck. They were forced to get out and push it.

   “So much for a short cut,” Sally moaned.

   “It's still shorter.”

   They'd barely pushed the wheel halfway through the mire when Sally yelped. She kicked a scorpion away, but several more gathered around them. Nox struck the hammer of his revolver and kill half a dozen of them with ease. The others scurried away.

   “Don't you worry,” he said. “Ain't nothin' to fear from those.”

   Then he felt a sudden chill as what little sun got in there was blotted out altogether. He could see a vast shadow on the ground, covering him entirely. He could also see Sally's pale face and wide eyes. He turned his head just a little, enough to see the giant pincer of a colossal scorpion.

  25 – THE WILD OF THE WILD NORTH

  Nox ducked just in time as the pincer snapped at where his head had been. He dived forward, knocking Sally to the ground, and rolled until he faced the giant scorpion with both guns blazing. The creature roared, scurrying to the side, snapping and stabbing.

   Sally crawled to her feet, and Nox ushered her back behind him. Then the scorpion stabbed its tail down towards them. He shoved Sally back again and sidestepped out of the way of the barb. He fired straight into one of the creature's eyes, which sent it back screaming.

   But it wasn't alone.

   Giant scorpions came from every channel in the granite walls, clapping their claws, dangling their bladed tails. One of them was larger than the rest, an albino scorpion with slightly translucent skin. Nox and Sally stood back to back, watching the creatures gather. They were surrounded.

   “Take my shotgun,” Nox said.

   Sally reached behind her, her hand fumbling until it caught hold of the four-barrel shotgun that was strapped to his back. She pulled it out and cocked the barrel.

   “You know how to use it, I hope,” he said.

   “Yeah,” she replied with some hesitation.

   “You've got four rounds.” He flexed his fingers. “Make 'em count.”

   He dived, and fired as he fell. The nearest scorpion charged in, but took a bullet to the eye, shrieking and stabbing wildly. Nox heard the blast of the shotgun as Sally destroyed one of the claws of the pale scorpion. It howled, and its cry called the others to it.

   Nox yanked a chain of bullets from his chest as he rolled. A few of them fell loose and he scrambled t
o get them, forcing them into the open barrel. He'd barely put them in when a scorpion reared up over him. He turned and blasted it, until the barrel was empty again. It screeched, then collapsed down on top of him, its right pincer twitching away.

   Sally helped haul him out, but the distraction left her with her guard down. One of the scorpion's snapped at her shotgun, pinning it in its claw. It pulled, tugging her towards it. Nox filled up the gun again, but the ammunition was getting low. He unloaded them at Sally's attacker, sending it back to the circling scorpions, which hemmed them in like a boxing ring.

   The gun felt a lot lighter. One bullet left. He'd been keeping count. These were good enough for the normal scorpions of the Wild North, where just one bullet was enough, but they didn't seem to be doing much against their larger kin. He needed a bigger gun, and Sally wasn't going to give it back so easily. She was also down to one bullet too.

   They gathered again, back to back. The encircling enemies were fewer now, but that didn't matter if there wasn't enough ammunition to kill them.

   “I hate to say it, but I think we need to run.”

   “Hell yeah,” Sally said.

   “You go cut us a path with your final round.”

   She aimed at the smallest of the scorpions, which was still one and a half times her height. The blast forced it back, tearing apart its shell. Nox dashed towards it, leaping onto its back. The sting came down like a piston, but he kept on moving. Sally followed swiftly, and the duo slid down the side of the creature's back, barely touching the sand before they were off again. The last time they'd ran like this, he was hunting her. They never thought they'd be running together, and that something else would be the hunter.

   They heard the thump of the scorpions' legs on the ground behind them, a flurry of noises as the creatures gave chase. They screeched and howled, and they snapped their claws menacingly. They kept their stingers raised, ready for the strike.

   Nox and Sally ran, hand in hand, their other hands brandishing their now useless guns. They charged down narrows passages, turning sharply through the maze of channels, left and right, while they heard the never-ending scurrying behind them.

   Then Nox felt a tug on his arm, and Sally's hand slipped through his fingers. He turned, ready to fight, ready to pull her back, but one of the giant scorpions already had her boot in its pincer claw. She screamed as she was dragged off, letting go of the empty shotgun, like she let go of his hand. He fired the last round from his gun, piercing the shell of one of the claws. The scorpion shrieked, but it didn't let go. It scurried away faster, pulling Sally with it, dragging her down the slope into its subterranean den.

  26 – SNAPPERS AND STINGERS

  Against his better judgement, Nox charged after the fleeing scorpion, until three more crowded in to shield it. He skidded to a halt before them, then turned and ran again, hearing the snap of shells a little too close to his ears.

   He spotted a crevice in the wall to his left, which he threw himself into, clambering across the uneven rocks until he squeezed into a part the gigantic scorpions couldn't reach. Or so he thought. Even as he gave a sigh of relief, a stinger came through the crevice, piercing the ground right between his legs, a little too close for comfort. He gasped and kicked his legs, pushing himself back until the stabbing tail couldn't reach him.

   Nox rested on his elbows and caught his breath. He shook his head and sighed, then turned to see a small scorpion perched on an outcrop near his head.

   “What're you lookin' at?” he said. He took a deep breath and sent a puff of black smoke out of his mask, which scared the creature away. If only it were that easy for the rest of them.

   He wasn't sure what to do. Guns didn't seem to work, and he didn't have much of them left anyway. He doubted the toxins of his mechanical butterflies would have much effect. He was running out of options, and Sally was running out of time.

   He got to his feet. The rock squeezed together tighter the further it went up. Both ends of the crevice were being watched by the giant scorpions, which periodically snapped their claws menacingly at him, or gnawed away at the rock on the edge. He needed a distraction.

   Then it dawned on him.

   He hammered his fist down on the tracking device on his left wrist. Elsewhere, still stuck in the mire, the monowheel's treads began to rotate, though it barely moved in the sludge. He could hear the engine hum even from here. He was sure the scorpions could hear it too. They raced away to investigate.

   He leapt out, running for the den they'd pulled Sally into. He dived into the hole, tumbling down into a dark chamber full of eggs. The large scorpion was there, nudging Sally into the corner. It hadn't killed her. It hadn't even stung her yet. It was keeping her alive and warm, fresh food for the newborn scorpions that would soon hatch. Some of the eggs wobbled in place. It wouldn't be long now.

   Sally looked at him with desperate eyes. The scorpion looked at him with angry ones.

   He needed a distraction for this one too.

   “Stay perfectly still,” the Coilhunter told Sally.

   He reached for his belt and tossed several orbs into the air. They burst open, and out of them swarmed his copper butterflies. The scorpion stabbed and snapped at them, but they moved quick. They sprayed it with toxins, but it had little effect. They went also for the bobbing eggs, and this drew the ire of the scorpion even more. It charged over to them, swiping and swatting, leaving room for Sally to escape.

   She ran, but then some of the motion-tracking butterflies spotted her movement and flapped after her. Nox grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the den, before hitting a switch on his arm, which caused all the butterflies to fall dead to the ground.

   Nox and Sally were back outside, but they weren't safe there either. More scorpions were gathering. This was a nesting ground. It'd soon be a feeding ground too.

   They fled down new passages between the crowding cliffs, halting when the way was blocked by scorpions, turning sharply here, even sharper there. There seemed to be no end to the maze. They weren't trying to find the centre. They were trying to find the way out.

   Nox kept battering the buttons on his arm. The thrum of the monowheel's engine was fading. It'd barely moved through the mire, and it was under strong attack by scorpions, who left many dents and scratches across the vehicle.

   Many more of them charged after the fleeing duo. The number seemed to grow by the second. More came out of every passage they passed, until there were dozens of scorpions of all sizes bounding after them.

   Nox looked up as he ran, searching for somewhere to fire his grappling hooks. The walls went up seemingly endlessly. There didn't appear to be much in the way of outcroppings and crevices to hook onto.

   “Grab on,” he told Sally, offering her his left hand. She held it tight.

   He fired the grappling hook attached to his right arm. It rocketed up towards the sky, towards the high walls, but grasped nothing, then fell back down with a clang. He flicked his wrist to reset the mechanism, and the hook started to recoil into the launcher, while the scorpions tried to snap at the metal prongs.

   He fired again, just as the attackers were closing in, and the hook caught on a small bit of rock that jutted out overhead. It hauled him upwards, and Sally came too. They dangled over the gathering horde, wondering if the scorpions would leave, worrying that maybe they would stay all day and night until food rained down from the sky.

   Then the purr of the monowheel came, and the vehicle span around the corner, crashing into the wall on the other side, before making straight for the crowd of scorpions. It cut through them, flattening some of the smaller ones, scaring away the larger. They broke apart, screaming.

   Nox looked at Sally. “Run.”

   He let her go, and she tumbled on the ground. She chased the monowheel as it continued through the passage, clearing a path for them. Nox followed, yanking the hook free. As it snapped back, he swung it wildly,
letting it clatter off a few of the smaller scorpions that dared to chase him.

   They kept running, and he kept steering the monowheel with periodic directions entered on the controller on his wrist. In time, it found them a way out, and made the way clear with all its noise and fumes. They came out the other side of the Wall of the West, panting and wheezing. The monowheel grunted as it slowed to a halt.

   “Bloody shortcut, huh?” Sally cried. She rested her hands on her knees, gasping.

   Nox glanced back. The scorpions were retreating.

   “Well, it was shorter.”

   Sally leant against the wall, still trying to catch her breath. Nox inspected the monowheel. The paint was scratched bad, and there was sand and muck encased in the treads, but it was still in working order.

   Then something set him on edge. He felt a sinking in his gut. He turned sharply to see a giant scorpion crawling down the wall above Sally. He reached for his guns, but they were empty.

   He gave a cry, but it pounced on Sally. She fell on her back, kicking and screaming, waving her arms madly. Nox dived in, bashing at the creature's face. He pulled a dagger from his belt and stabbed it wildly, barely managing to evade its blows. It squirmed and shuddered, then collapsed to the ground.

   Nox pulled Sally loose, but before he got her fully free, the giant scorpion raised its stinger over her, let it dangle for a moment, then dropped it fast. The sting pierced her like a blade, and she gave out a cry. The venom pumped inside her, even as the insect's heart stopped pumping altogether.

   Nox yanked the stinger free, but it had already injected a lethal dose. He knew it instinctively, and from the look on Sally's face, she knew it too. The scorpion spasmed in place as Nox dragged Sally further away, resting her back against the monowheel.

   “I guess it's … fate,” she said, cringing.

   The Coilhunter shook his head. To someone who had ended so many lives, fate was a gun. He opened a pouch on his belt and pulled out a vial.