Kitty caught the edge of a grimace tightening his face before Lucy cleared his throat.
“Good thing is,” Lucy added. “I know how to get us there, and how to get you in.”
Kitty opened her mouth, but the beep of her console forestalled her.
DASHING_WILLIAM_19: WHERE RU?
Kitty sighed.
BAD_KITTY_69: KILLED CHIMERA BOSS, BUT U WERENT THERE
DASHING_WILLIAM_19: WHERE RU NOW?
BAD_KITTY_69: HELICAL. STILL LOOKING 4U, DONT WORRY
DASHING_WILLIAM_19: WE?
BAD_KITTY_69: ME + LUCY - ANOTHER PLAYER. WE’RE TEAMING UP 2 FIND U.
DASHING_WILLIAM_19: NICE OF HER
Kitty shifted her pursed lips to the side of her mouth. Then she shrugged. He would find out soon enough.
DASHING_WILLIAM_19: ANY IDEA WHERE I AM?
BAD_KITTY_69: NOT YET. LUCY THINKS U MIGHT BE HERE IN HELICAL
DASHING_WILLIAM_19: HURRY. BORING AS ALL HELL IN HERE
“So, about this carriage—” Kitty began, closing her chat console.
Lucy held up a hand. A jagged series of rocks had materialised from the ever-present heat wave. Lucy beckoned her with a flick of his fingertips, stabbing toward the rocky outcrop.
When she didn’t move, Lucy gave her an auguring stare from above the tightly-bound bandanna around his face.
“Hide,” he said.
“From what?”
Lucy shook his head, moving toward the scant cover the rocks provided.
“Is it really that difficult for you to trust me?”
“It’s not about trust,” Kitty replied stiffly, dragging her skirts to her knees in the hope it would improve her walking speed. It didn’t. “It’s about you not telling me what the hell you’re going to do before you do it, and then getting pissed off because I’m all like surprised and stuff and I screw up your plan because I didn’t even know you had one to begin with.”
“I’m getting us a carriage,” Lucy said, speaking too deliberately for her liking.
“Fine.” Kitty crouched behind the rocks, her fan blurring in the air as she tried cooling herself. “But hurry. I’m about melting here.”
Somewhere back in the real world her body lay, perhaps peacefully, with sweat oozing from every pore in response to Helical’s heat. Did she sweat in her real dreams? As much as The Game was supposed to mimic dreaming, it seemed to have added a few exciting flourishes, such as inducing sensations of heat, cold and pain through the bodysuit that came standard with Mindware these days. She could really have done without the realism at this point. What had she been thinking?
And there was that vague sense of discomfort. Ah, that was probably her real body wanting to pee. She’d been in-game what… seven hours now, give or take? At least if she wet herself, there was no one there to see.
Except William. Will would see, when he disconnected from The Game. If he—
Kitty interrupted the thought before it could spawn into more doubts than those that already infested her mind. They would find William. And then they would make it to the Arena.
And then the moderators would disconnect them from The Game.
That… or they’d die trying.
A rocking, clattering noise drew closer. A clip-clop of hooves. The creaking of leather straps. Kitty glanced beside her at Lucy, whose back was pressed to the outcrop, both hands flat against its rough surface. His mop of damp, black hair and the faded bandanna lent a rakish quality to his usually stern features.
He frowned at her, lifted a finger to his hidden lips, and dashed forward as a team of four horses trotted into view. The horses reared, but couldn’t gallop forward — Lucy had grabbed hold of the closest horse’s halter and kept it in place while it tried to fend him off with a furious toss of its head.
“Hey! Watcha doin’ with my ‘orse, boy?” There was a heavy creak and a thud.
Lucy turned to face the person who’d spoken — a man by his thick voice. Probably an NPC, judging from the thick accent.
“I’m relieving you of your carriage, mate,” Lucy said.
“Wha?” The man stepped into view: a pudgy, red-faced NPC with a mop of straw-coloured hair and a shirt with an interesting pattern of sweat stains on it. “You lost your mind there in the desert, boy?”
“Not at all, my good man. Not at all.” Lucy released the horse and lunged forward.
The NPC was still rearing back, fumbling for a large, clunky gun at his belt, when Lucy took hold of his head in both hands and twisted. There was a damp snap. The NPC collapsed, face now dusted with the pale sand from Helical’s desert.
Lucy spun to her and gestured impatiently. “Hurry, Kitty.”
“Coming,” she murmured, forcing herself to her feet.
Her fan faltered for a moment as she drew near enough to see Lucy’s unwavering gaze above the bandanna, then she slipped past him and scrambled up to the carriage’s driver seat.
“Not so fast,” Lucy said. “In the back with you, girl.”
“What? Why? I don’t—”
Lucy’s arm closed over her waist and he dragged her off the driver’s seat. He wrenched open the carriage’s door, shoved back the woman who’d tried darting out, and pushed Kitty in unceremoniously after her.
Kitty fell into a faded velvet seat, eyes fixed on the tear-streaked face of the girl sitting opposite her.
“Hello,” Kitty managed. “I’m Kitty.”
“Wuh-wuh-what are you guh-guh-going to do with m-m-me?” The girl’s large brown eyes were luminous with tears, her lips quivering.
Lucy stuck his head in the door. It was obvious he was grinning beneath the bandanna, his eyes crinkled at the corners.
“Kitty has a selection of knives hidden about her person,” Lucy lied, staring at the girl with an intensity that made her cringe back into her chair. “You try something… anything… and she’ll make sure the sheriff finds your pretty little body, somewhere deep in the desert, riddled with holes. Comprende?”
The girl moved her gaze with obvious reluctance from Lucy’s face to Kitty. Kitty gave her a curt nod, narrowing her eyes slightly. The girl squealed and curled into a ball, gripping her knees to her chest and sharing a frantic look between her and Lucy.
“Good.” Lucy slammed closed the carriage door.
The carriage rocked as Lucy hoisted himself up to the driver’s seat. There was a snap of reigns and Kitty was thrown back in her seat as the carriage surged forward. The girl began sobbing.
Kitty sighed and opened her chat console.
BAD_KITTY_69: REMEMBER WHEN U SAID THIS WOULD BE FUN?
There was a pause before Will replied.
DASHING_WILLIAM_19: DON’T BLAME THIS ON ME I DIDNT MAKE THE GAME GLITCH OUT
Kitty rolled her eyes.
BAD_KITTY_69: I SHOULD NEVER HAVE LISTENED 2 U
DASHING_WILLIAM_19: U SHITTING ME RIGHT. U COULDNT WAIT TO GET IN GAME
Kitty dropped her head, her teeth catching at the inside of her lip. After a few seconds of resting her head against the rocking carriage wall, she replied.
BAD_KITTY_69: WHAT IF WE CAN’T GET OUT IN TIME?
DASHING_WILLIAM_19: WE WILL. WE HAVE 2
Kitty closed the console and glanced up at the girl. The motion made the slip of an NPC squirm.
“What’s your name, girl?” Kitty snapped open her fan. How could the locals stand the heat?
“Belinda,” the girl replied meekly.
“I’m Kitty.” Kitty suppressed a grimace. Her voice was starting to twang with the hint of an accent. The Game wasn’t taking any chances with players getting out of character here, was it? “Where were you headed, Belinda?”
Belinda sniffed and drew a hand over her eyes, blinking at Kitty a few times before replying.
“Me and pa was goin’ back to the farm. Been at Tumbleweed for the day.”
Kitty sneered. “You have yourselves a nice day out, then?”
Belinda didn’t reply. Kitty sat forward, tapping the edge
of her fan against her hand.
“I don’t like repeating myself, girl.”
“Pa bought me a new dress,” Belinda mumbled.
Kitty lifted her chin at the girl. Belinda’s mouth turned sulky, but she reached down and hoisted an enormous box from underneath her seat. It had a bright, pink ribbon on it. Belinda made to open it, but the sound of Kitty’s fan snapping closed halted her.
Belinda froze, fingers suspended above the lid of the box.
Kitty leaned across and flipped the lid off the box with the closed fan, using its stiffened feathers to carefully part the layers of tissue paper inside. She sat back and drew her lips into a wide smile.
“My, that’s pretty, Belinda,” Kitty murmured. “That’s real pretty.”
. . .
Tumbleweed was dry, dusty and deserted, just as he remembered. Lucy reigned in the horses, lathered from their gallop into town, and landed on the road with a soft thud. Dust puffed up with every step as he approached the carriage’s door, the only sound that of his spurs clicking and the leather strips in his clothing rubbing together.
Lucy tugged open the carriage door and stuck his head inside the dim interior. It was slightly cooler inside, but the air was just as dry as the sand beneath his boots.
The girls squealed. Tissue paper blossomed into the air. Lucy frowned as the thin papers fluttering down to the carriage floor. When he glanced up, Kitty was watching him with undisguised anticipation.
He grimaced. “Looks like a unicorn sicked up over you.”
Kitty’s eyes narrowed. She crossed her arms, her mouth jerking to the side. For a moment, before the sulk had ravaged it, her face had been beautifully serene. Pale pink ringlets framed her face, more dangling in a cluster over her shoulder and gathering in her avatar’s considerable cleavage. She wore an intricate, frilly thing of a dress that looked like it should creak when she moved. Despite the changes The Game had made to her avatar’s clothing when they’d entered Helical, Kitty’s eyes remained the same: green with dashes of gold and bronze. At the moment, those eyes and her voice were the only real things about her.
“Better than the rags I was wearing,” Kitty said.
“We’re tryin’ to blend in, not stand out,” Lucy said.
“This is Tumbleweed’s finest.” Kitty flicked her fan at him. She’d been fluttering it in front of her face until he’d mocked her dress. “And I’ll ask you to stop giving me grief ‘bout it, if you please.”
Lucy suppressed another grimace.
It was The Game of course: it altered a player to suit whatever rift they were playing in. Although, when The Game had been functioning normally, a player could choose their new avatar and clothing when changing rifts. And their weapons were imported — usually transformed into something of similar rank but matching the style of the new rift.
For a brief moment, Lucy longed for his pair of sawn-off shotguns. He’d only just discovered their potential for violence when The Game had glitched him back into Chimera.
He shook himself from a reverie painted red with blood and chunks of skin — the deputy had it coming — and concentrated on Kitty again.
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “It’s hotter ‘n a pig’s ballsack in ‘ere.” She peered past him out of the carriage. “We going to get a drink, hon?” A grimace flashed across her mouth. “Lucy,” she added firmly.
He let out an amused huff. “It’s okay. Happens to all of us. Best just to go with it. You kick up a fuss and you’ll get one of your headaches again.”
“Ugh,” Kitty's fan snapped out of existence. “Let’s just get going, ‘kay?”
Lucy’s smile slid away as he faced the girl. She’d been watching their exchange with wide eyes.
“Belinda, then?”
She nodded at his question.
“You’ll be a good girl while we’re gone?”
Another nod, more assertive than the first.
Lucy shrugged. “Wish I could believe ya, sweetheart.” He climbed into the carriage and slapped a hand over Belinda’s mouth before her scream could escape.
“What you doin’?” Kitty squawked. “Leave her alone!”
“Shut up and pass me that rope.”
“What? What rope?”
“The one in the corner there.”
“There’s no blasted—” Kitty’s voice trailed away.
A coil of rope appeared in Lucy’s hand. He wound it around Belinda’s struggling body and shoved a handful of tissue paper in her mouth. His bandanna completed the gag. He backed out of the carriage, hand held out for Kitty to follow.
She slapped it away and exited the carriage with a scowl and a flurry of pastel skirts.
“You didn’t have ta do that.” Her fan appeared, her wrist snapping it with a furious speed. “She’d have stayed quiet.”
Lucy held out his arm. “Bear in mind where we are, Kitty. Best to keep up appearances here. Folk around here are all suspicious-like, you know?”
Kitty studied his arm as if wondering how easily his bones would break. She took it carefully, her fan’s speed decreasing as she fell in step beside him. Her skirts swirled around her, the satin sheen of the fabric sparkling in the sun.
It was always high noon in Helical. This ensured that duels could take place at any time. And they usually did. When Lucy had first arrived, he’d been drawn into three duels before reaching the saloon.
“The Rusted Mug,” Kitty read out beside him.
Lucy paused for a moment, eyes scanning both sides of the street. It was still deserted. Two tumbleweeds crossed paths on the dusty surface, the incessant breeze blowing them in opposite directions.
“Best saloon in town,” he replied distantly.
Kitty sniffed. “Only saloon in town, surely. You’d only call this place a two horse town ‘cos of our carriage holed up over there.”
Lucy gave her a grudging nod. “True that. Let’s get us some rotgut.”
Drawing the grumbling Kitty after him, Lucy pushed open the batwing doors of the Rusted Mug saloon. The sound of jilted piano chords, muttered conversations, and a high pitched giggle cascaded over them as they paused on the threshold, waiting for their eyes to adjust to the saloon’s dim interior.
Before he could take a step inside, a hand clapped on Lucy’s shoulder, staggering him forward.
“Speak of the devil!” roared a voice behind him. “Never thought I’d see you again, ole chum.”
Lucy swung to face the man behind him. Helical’s twin suns provided more illumination than was necessary, casting the man’s face in deep shadow and silhouetting him against the sun-bleached wooden slats of a feed store across the road.
“Forgotten me already, have you?” The man’s tone was weighted more with devilment than anger. “More’s the pity. Def’nitely ‘aven’t forgotten about you, mate.”
Lucy wrenched his shoulder free from the man’s grasp. There were several elements of The Game’s architecture that annoyed him: the ability for players to grab hold of another player’s avatar was one of them. Even in the real world he despised people invading his personal space. Having it happen in a game was just as bad.
“Long time no see, Nick the Dick,” Lucy said.
Lucy glanced beside him at Kitty, who was sharing a frown between him and the newcomer. Behind them, the saloon had grown hushed with a hungry anticipation.
“I reckon I do remember ya,” Lucy went on. “You’re the brother of that guy I killed, yeah?” Lucy added. “Good thing you found me. Else I’d have to go and hunt you down myself, and ain’t no one got time for that.”
The man’s lips peeled back from his teeth.
Lucy dove forward, relieving Nick of his pistol before the man’s fingers could close around the smooth pearl handle. The crack when Lucy fired the pistol was a physical thing that snapped into his abdomen.
Brotherless Nick flew into the street, dust floating into the air as his lifeless body was dragged by an unseen force across the road. Lucy came out after him, pisto
l slamming another three bullets into the corpse.
Lucy lifted the smoking gun to his lips and blew at the streamer of smoke curling up from the barrel. When he spun around, Kitty was clutching her skirts in fists, her eyes wide and lips parted.
“What you go and do that for?” Kitty called out. “He ain’t done nothing.”
“That’s just it, sweetheart. He ain’t done nothing.” Lucy pushed past her, cutting off the soft murmur that had sprung up, as he stepped inside the saloon.
Lucy holstered the pistol. He cracked his knuckles, eyes scanning the gloomy booths and smoke-entangled bar.
“I’m looking for Sheriff Thundergun,” Lucy said.
“He’ll be looking for you in a minute,” a brave soul called out from dark recesses of a booth in the back of the saloon. “Best you get on out of here ‘fore he finds you.”
Lucy gave the invisible patron a half-hearted grin. “Got something for him, if he’s interested.”
There was silence. Lucy lifted his eyebrows. “You all wanna hear what it is?”
A generalised murmur answered him.
“Her name’s Belinda. The gold miner’s daughter, in case any of you developed a recent spate of amnesia.”
The murmur grew into agitated whispers. “You be giving her back now, you hear?” It was the same man as before, still hidden in the shadows of the booth.
Lucy lifted his chin toward the booth, standing arms akimbo as a smirk spread over his lips.
“Why don’t you go and tell Thundergun I’ll be waiting out by Devil’s Peak? He’s got till sunset.”
“What ‘appens then?” The man would receive a medal for honour after this display of bravery.
Lucy shrugged. “That’s when I throw pretty little Belinda into the canyon.”
Gasps filled the room. The barman dropped a glass to the floor, the sound drawing even more exclamations.
Lucy swung around, giving Kitty a small nod, and pushed at the wooden batwings to exit the saloon.
The Seventh Glitch Page 5
