There was a subtle sound, more like a vibration than an actual noise. It ran through the cornfield, resonating through Coyote’s body like the rumbling of a distant locomotive. Coyote looked up and saw a light appear in the sky, almost like a permanent thunderbolt, as if the air itself had cracked open like an eggshell. She blinked. The crack grew larger and wider, tearing at the fabric of sky.
“Oh . . . ,” was all Coyote managed to say. She had never seen an actual rip before, and the sight of it fascinated her.
“Like I told you . . . once a day,” Sunshine said. “Let’s hope nothing comes out of this one.” The rip stretched wider until it formed a perfect circle that hung about twelve feet above the ground, one large enough to allow a herd of bulls to pass through.
“Something is coming.” Caesar pointed at a black spot in the circle of light.
“What is that?” Coyote squinted. “It’s not very big.”
“Better keep that gun of yours ready.” Sunshine’s voice was tense, and the older woman pulled her own gun. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with yet.”
“I’ll get closer.”
“Be careful,” Caesar warned, but Coyote was already running toward the rip.
Coyote stood to get a better look at the creature. It was small, about the size of a medium dog, and jumped gracefully to the ground, where it disappeared into the corn.
“It’s loose,” Coyote shouted over her shoulder. “I’ll need your help.”
The cornstalks slapped her relentlessly as she fought her way through, cursing the bad visibility of her surroundings and the pain of the cuts the leaves left on her skin. A strange noise, like a whirring sound mixed with a growl, reached her from ahead. Coyote froze. The sound came again, louder this time, accompanied by a weird clicking. Coyote listened carefully and slowly stepped toward the sound, careful not to make too much noise. The whirring grew louder, and she understood that the creature was hunting her as much as she was hunting it.
Without warning, a black shape burst through the cornstalks. The shape of it reminded her of a large scorpion, only with four legs and no pincers, but the tail looked menacing. At the end of the tail, which was long and curved, sat what looked like a mouth rather than a stinger. Several rows of sharp teeth snapped at her, and she ducked just in time to avoid being bitten. The thing had a head too, which had a second mouth and two beady, red eyes. A strange, black armor covered its body, which added to the scorpion appearance.
The thing leapt again, this time dangerously close, and she shot. The bullet ricocheted off it, not piercing the armor, but causing the creature to veer off course. A flock of upset birds flew away, cawing loudly. Coyote’s eyes darted around. Frustrated that she didn’t know what she was dealing with, Coyote felt her body grow tense. She hated going into a battle unprepared.
“Coyote . . . ,” Caesar’s voice sounded from the distance. “Sunshine Mary recognized the Outlander. It is a Zertugl.”
“A what?” Coyote shouted back. The Outlander rustled somewhere in the distance, she had the feeling she’d hurt it, just not given it a fatal wound.
“A Zertugl,” Caesar repeated from afar.
“What the hell is that?” The name sounded vaguely familiar to her, but she couldn’t place it.
“It has a weak spot. Shoot it in the right side of the neck.”
She remembered then. The Anderson brothers had encountered this thing . . . and they’d mentioned that human weapons could harm it, so she wasn’t defenseless. She concentrated, trying to locate her foe. The whirring betrayed its whereabouts. The sound was getting farther away from her.
It’s heading toward Caesar, she realized with a start.
“Caesar, if you don’t have your gun out, get it now. It’s coming for you.” She ran through the cornfield without thinking, cutting herself on the sharp leaves. Caesar was a decent gunman, but not an expert shot. Coyote hoped the creature wouldn’t get its teeth in him. She remembered Reese’s mauled shin.
A shot rang through the air, muffled by the rows of corn, and Caesar’s voice followed. “It is heading back toward you, Coyote.”
Barely a second later, the Outlander came charging through the stalks again, its mouths wide open, ready to attack. Coyote was prepared this time, and with calm ease, she shot the creature in the right side of the neck. It yelped with a humanoid voice, falling down to the ground with a heavy thud. The black body twitched three times, the tail swinging wildly, teeth still snapping, until it lay still. Coyote walked over and kicked it with her foot, but the Zertugl was dead. A few seconds later, Caesar joined her, and they both stared at the corpse.
“We’ve had tougher Outlanders to shoot than this.”
“Remember what Ham Anderson said?” Caesar looked up at her. “They are not that dangerous as individual creatures, only when they are a swarm.”
“Good thing we only had to kill the one then,” Coyote remarked. Her partner froze, his eyes wide open. “What?” she asked, and then she heard it too. A loud whizzing noise from further down the cornfield. Coyote turned to look at the spot Caesar was staring at and saw the rip. For a moment, she thought it was leaking a black liquid. Then she realized dozens of Zertugl were pouring out, a living river of chomping mouths and razor-sharp teeth.
“Oh no, this can’t be good.” She started running toward the offending rip.
ZERTUGL
“This is a nightmare,” Coyote panted as she raced toward the black mass of Outlanders gushing from the rip like a metallic wave. “We’re not prepared for this, and we could use some backup.” She fired her gun, hitting the creatures in the soft spot on the sides of their necks, but she wondered if she had enough bullets to deal with all of them. Caesar said nothing; he was aiming his weapon at the Outlanders, concentrating on every shot he took. Coyote barely had to look at her target—her bullets always found their mark—but Caesar struggled more, and her partner only hit about one in three of his targets. Coyote was already eyeing her next target before she would shoot the first.
“Where did Sunshine go?” Coyote asked, shooting a Zertugl that rushed her and immediately aiming for the next. There were so many of them, she didn’t know where to start.
“She is getting help.” Caesar spoke between gritted teeth, squinting at his next mark.
“Thank goodness,” Coyote said, shooting another Zertugl. “I don’t know how long we can keep this up. If we run out of bullets, we’re dead.” There was no panic in her voice; she just stated a fact. Coyote wasn’t one to fear death, but she wasn’t one to welcome it either. Something had to happen before it was too late.
“Caesar, I need you to go find Sunshine before these things surround us. Get me some more weapons. Or bullets at the very least.” She couldn’t look at him. There were too many targets, and she never stopped shooting. “We need a plan here, Caesar, and I am in no position to come up with one.”
“I understand,” he said, and he ran past her. A wave of relief and gratitude washed over her. Caesar wasn’t the best shot, but he had a strong mind on him, and that’s what she needed him for most. In this mass of Outlanders, he would only be in the way, wasting precious bullets. Coyote couldn’t keep the Outlanders at a distance for too long; her shooting had attracted the swarm, and they were heading straight for her. She backed off slowly, still shooting. A loud click told her that one of her two normal pistols had been emptied of bullets. She cursed and threw it to the ground, her heart pounding. The second one clicked after the next shot. She didn’t lose her calm; instead, she pulled Betsy, an Outlander device that held up to forty shots, from her belt. She preferred her human guns, as they were lighter and easier to aim, but for now, Betsy was a blessing. However, there were more than forty Outlanders for her to shoot, and Coyote hoped Caesar would make it back in time with more weapons.
The deafening whirring played with her nerves, overwhelming her senses as the creatures scuttled toward her, moving in unison like hungry insects. Some swarmed at her from the side, their m
aws snapping. They were easy kills, but she had to react fast. She was shooting one handed now, squinting at the oncoming horde, at the main body of the black mass, which now drove her back. Her steps sped up while she struggled not to slip in the carcasses of those she had killed. She wouldn’t be able to keep them at a distance for too long; the creatures were gaining on her. A dull ache spread from the back of her neck all the way to her temples, but Coyote stayed focused on her targets. There was no time to worry about death, but she couldn’t recall the last time she was this tense about a shootout. There were many, and that meant her bullets would run out, and soon. They were closing in. Coyote guessed they were less than two hundred feet away now. The creatures would be on her within minutes . . . if she even had that long.
Caesar, I could really use your help right about now.
“Coyote . . . ” Caesar’s voice was music to her ears. She exhaled, suddenly aware she had been holding her breath.
Right on time, as always, my brother.
“I’m in trouble.” She hated to admit it, but it was true. One hundred and fifty feet, max. They’re going to reach me sooner than I expected.
“Hold on.” His words were followed by a high whistle, and then a bang. All around her, the Zertugl went still, swaying on their spindly legs. A sound rose through the air, soft and subtle at first, but building up. It reminded Coyote of the nasal and melancholy music of a snake charmer’s flute. Whatever it was, it had the Zertugl hypnotized, and they scuttled in slow and deliberate movements toward the sound, completely ignoring Coyote. She shot a few more, until her weapon did nothing more than give a disheartening click. Eager to retreat and find either new ammunition or a more effective weapon, Coyote ran opposite the horde.
“Caesar?” She stopped when she felt she’d made some distance between her and the swarm of Outlanders, and looked around. The Zertugl had disappeared into the field, but their motion made the cornstalks wave violently back and forth, revealing their whereabouts. The whirring retreated deeper and deeper into the field.
A warm hand on her arm startled her, and Coyote turned to look into Caesar’s placid brown eyes.
“Sunshine Mary has dealt with these creatures before.” Caesar’s voice was soft and calm, as if he hadn’t exerted himself at all. “Judging from her expression, I do not think she has ever seen this many.”
“Does she know what to do?” Coyote was still panting.
“Yes, but she needs our help. There are too many of them.” Caesar pointed at a spot across the field. “All she can do now is herd them together. It is up to us to rid ourselves of this swarm.”
Coyote held up her empty gun. “I hope she has something for me to shoot them with.”
There was a rare twinkle in Caesar’s eye, and he nodded. “I think you are going to like this.”
Coyote stared at the weapon in awe, her body frozen to the spot for at least ten seconds before she could even express her adoration. It was set up just outside of the farmer’s field.
“A Gatling gun,” she gasped, running her hands across the metal of the barrels. “This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” She looked at Sunshine Mary, who was instructing a metal servant how to feed the enormous gun a box of cartridges.
“Not just any Gatling gun.” Sunshine tapped the side of her nose. “Had this one especially made with Outlander materials. This puppy will tear straight through their armor.” She patted the gun. “So you won’t have to aim for their weak spots, just hit them.”
Coyote whistled between her teeth and grinned. “How’d you get it here so fast?” She eyed the metal cart that stood on the road. She wondered if it was some sort of horseless carriage.
“It was never far.” Sunshine never took her eyes of her task. “This rip has been here for a while. You don’t think we’re prepared for all sorts of emergencies?”
“Well done.” Coyote tipped her hat at Sunshine.
In the distance, the nasal, flute-like sounds continued, and the cornstalks indicated that the swarm was coming in their direction.
“Now, Philip will lead them here,” Sunshine explained, “and when they get into the open field, you need to get them.” She pointed at a direction where the corn had been cut to the ground.
“Got it.” Coyote’s eyes grew wide with greed, her smile even wider. She caressed the Gatling gun in a similar way she would her horse, as if it were a faithful companion.
“Caesar and I will take the sides. I’ve provided him with some weapons.” Sunshine grabbed Coyote’s chin and forced her to look up at her. “I’ve never seen so many Zertugl together in one place. They’re dangerous enough as a swarm, but this is almost a plague. If we let them get away, many innocents will die. Whole towns will be destroyed. You understand that, right?”
Coyote nodded. “Of course I do.”
“I need you to be sharp, Coyote.” Sunshine’s naturally dour face was even more somber. “I need you to save our lives.”
“Trust me, Sunshine.” Coyote pulled her face from the woman’s fingers and shot her an impish smile. “I’ll do fine.” She patted the gun again, fiddling with the settings to determine how far it could shoot. “This won’t be as accurate as my pistols, but it should do just fine in killing these Outlanders.”
“Whenever you need to reload, shout ‘reload,’” Sunshine instructed, muttering the last word. “Victor here will do the honors. You can’t work this puppy by yourself.”
“Reload . . . got it.” Coyote touched her fingers to her derby. The metal servant immediately responded and loaded a new cartridge in the gun.
“Make sure you articulate.” Sunshine grabbed a weapon and waved for Caesar to take his place. The flute music drew near, and Coyote could see the swarm growing restless.
“Here goes nothing, Victor . . . ”
Philip had done a tremendous job gathering all the Zertugl. He burst through the corn, much quicker than Coyote had given the old man credit for, the Outlanders hot on his heels. In his hands, he held a strange copper sphere. On the side, it had a large handle, which Phillip turned as if his life depended on it. There were no holes for the music to come out of; it seemed to vibrate out of the orb itself.
Coyote spotted more Zertugl than she had seen before. Their armor gleamed in the weak sunlight, and they looked like a large wave of living black water. The creatures crawled over each other, trying to make their way toward the mesmerizing music, but Philip was faster… just barely. The sight of them took her breath away, and her heart pounded with anticipation. She felt no dread, only excitement. There was no room for fear on the hunt, only for focus.
Philip ran past her, the swarm only twenty feet behind him, and as soon as he was out of her way, Coyote turned the crank of the Gatling gun. The enormous weapon shuddered under her grip, and the shots were bright as exploding stars. Coyote pointed the weapon at the black oncoming mass. No matter how loud the shots were, they couldn’t seem to drown out Philip’s hypnotic music—Coyote was sure the tunes were somehow magical—and the creatures kept coming, wave after wave.
Her teeth rattled in her skull as she moved the gun from side to side, still pushing the crank as fast as she could, and adrenaline pumped through her body. Coyote was never more alive than when she was in a gunfight, and she had never been in one as spectacular as this. A woman was roaring somewhere near her, and it took her a moment to realize it was she who was making the noise.
The Zertugl fell by the dozens each second, and the huge wave was pushed back by the gunfire. Once in a while, Coyote was forced to stop and scream “reload” at the metal servant, who filled up her cartridges in silent duty. During those times, Philip’s strange instrument would fall silent, leaving the Outlanders in a dazed and confused state. She would hear the gunshots coming from Sunshine and Caesar as they took out more of the scorpion like creatures. As soon as Victor reloaded her gun, which usually only lasted mere seconds, Philip would play his flute and Coyote would crank the handle again.
Her han
d cramped and her muscles burned—there were so many of the creatures—but Coyote never lost her mirth. Shooting these creatures was the easiest and most challenging thing she had ever done, and rather than skill, she realized she needed stamina.
After what felt like forever, she could see the wave of Zertugl thinning. No longer were they a sea of moving black; instead they were only coming at her a few at a time, scrambling over the corpses of their brethren, still insanely driven by the magical tunes of Philip’s instrument. She kept shooting until there was no more movement in the masses and pure exhaustion forced her to stop.
Out of breath, she slumped down by the gun, panting and sweating. Her head was throbbing with the echoes of the weapon, and black spots danced in front of her eyes.
Something moved just in her peripheral vision, and Coyote reacted quickly. She drew her gun and pointed it at a singular Zertugl who was bolting towards her. Coyote pulled the trigger, only to hear a nerve wracking “click.”
“Damn,” she cursed, glancing across her surroundings for another weapon. She wouldn’t be able to turn the Gatling gun around in time. The creature was running toward her, its dual mouths snapping sharp teeth. It leapt, and Coyote rolled out of the way. A loud shot rang through the field and the creature veered off its course, falling down on the ground.
“Are you unharmed, Coyote?” Caesar’s voice sounded thick with concern. He ran to her, throwing the shotgun he had been holding to the side, and wrapped his arms around her. She was slick with sweat, and one of her braids had become undone.
“That was the best gunfight I’ve ever been in,” she said, her chest still heaving with fatigue, and she laughed hoarsely.
“Come on, let’s get you two cleaned up.” Sunshine Mary leaned over her, blocking out the sun.
“We need to check if we got all of them,” Coyote said.
“We got them all right. I doubt there are any left. And if there are, it’s just going to be a few individuals. Philip and I can deal with them.”
Coyote: The Outlander (with FREE second screen experience) Page 9
