Lone Gunfighter of the Wastelands

by Rachel Aukes

  “Joe!” Nick ran over and hugged him.

  Joe grunted when Nick put pressure on his healing side, and he placed a hand on Nick’s back. “Hey, kiddo.”

  Romy walked cautiously closer, and Joe pulled off his helmet so he could give her a smile. She then took the last couple of steps in a rush and hugged him, too.

  Joe tossed his helmet to Rex so he could hug both kids. “You don’t know how good it is to see that you’re both okay.” He looked over at Reuben. “Where’d you find them?”

  Reuben motioned toward Rex, who’d taken off his helmet as well.

  “I have my ways,” Rex said, smugly.

  “Thanks,” Joe said. “I owe you.”

  “You bet your shield you do,” Rex replied.

  Joe gave him a single nod, then turned to look from Kit to Nick. “Hey, Nick. There’s someone I want you to meet. This guy here fought in the Revolution and the Shiprock War with your dad and me.”

  “You knew my dad?” Nick asked in sudden awe.

  Kit took a step forward and pulled off his helmet. “I did. He was the best of the best. I’m proud to have called him my friend.” He set down the helmet, pulled off a glove, and held out his hand. “My name’s Kit.”

  Nick stood taller when he shook Kit’s hand. “I’m Nick. I was named after my dad.”

  Kit didn’t jest at the obvious connection. “It’s a good name.”

  Nick backed away, only to push Romy toward Kit. “And this is my sister, Romy. She’s not really my sister in real life, but she doesn’t have any family anymore, so I made her my sister.”

  Joe opened his mouth to mention how that was Sara’s decision to make, but the words died on his tongue. For all he knew, Sara was dead, and all Nick had left was Romy and Champ. His jaw tightened.

  Reuben noticed, and he pressed Nick and Romy back to the other room. “Joe and I have some catching up to do. How about you head back to that video game you were playing?”

  “All right,” Nick said, sounding dejected, but he quickly rebounded and grabbed Romy’s hand. “Let’s go.” Champ seemed happy to follow wherever they went.

  Reuben closed the door behind the trio.

  Joe looked at Reuben. “Any news on Sara Swinton?”

  Reuben shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Nick and Romy told me what happened, but Gabriel Sloan’s put a hefty price on both my and Rex’s heads, and no doubt on your head as well by now. If we leave Far Town, we run the risk of being seen.”

  “You should stay here,” Kit said. “Cat’s still working for the Sloans. I might be able to get close enough to find out where Sara’s being kept. No one outside this room knows that Joe and I know each other.”

  “Why’s an Iron Guildsman here to help the Haft Agency?” Rex interjected.

  Kit turned to face Rex. “I’m not. I couldn’t care less about your defunct agency. I’m here to help the Swintons.” He then turned to Reuben. “I’ll come back when I find out anything. Until then, you three need to lie low and protect those kids.”

  “We will,” Joe said.

  Kit eyed him for a moment and then smirked. “Sure you will.” He put on his helmet. “Try to do a better job at staying alive this time.” He turned to Rex. “And you’re better looking with the helmet on.”

  “So are you, bub,” Rex called out as Kit left the room.

  Reuben took a seat on the sofa. “It’s good to see you alive, Joe. When Nick told me that Sloan’s murcs caught up with you, I feared the worst.”

  “Sloan sent me down to the Devil’s Playground. It took me a while to get back up this way,” Joe said.

  “Devil’s Playground, you say?” Reuben shook his head. “Damn, those Sloan brothers sure know how to hold grudges.”

  “You should know, Bolt and Tumbler were there. They’ve been working for the other team this whole time.”

  Reuben scowled. “I know. Rex saw them in Copper Gulch. By the time Rex told me, it was too late to do anything about it.” He clenched his fists. “And now my mother’s agency is in ashes, and any Haft hunters still alive and not in this room work for Cat.”

  “I say we pay a visit to Cat in Copper Gulch, and make her watch as we burn down the Iron Guild,” Rex grumbled, cracking his knuckles.

  Reuben held up a hand. “While Cat is now my mortal enemy, it’ll do no good going after her guild at present. She’s just the hired help.”

  “It’ll do plenty of good,” Rex replied. “I’ll feel better, for one thing.”

  “We have to deal with the Sloan brothers first,” Joe put in, knowing where Reuben was going.

  Reuben nodded. “I put out feelers after you told me about the army Roderick Sloan seemed to be gathering out in Clearwater, and what I learned was that the Sloan brothers have hit several of the smallest towns with MRC administrators. The administrators in those towns pledge allegiance to the Sloans; those who don’t, disappear.”

  “With every town, they get the resources and the murcs aligned to that town,” Joe said, putting the pieces together.

  Reuben nodded a second time. “Exactly. They’re starting small to build up their numbers, but I’d lay bets against Artie Law that the Sloans will keep hitting bigger and bigger towns until they have all the Midlands under their thumbs.”

  “Why stop at the Midlands?” Rex said. “If they have control of an entire zone, it’d be easy enough to take over the other zones. It’s not like the murcs have ever managed to work together since the Revolution.”

  Joe sighed. “So, we’re dealing with a couple of brothers with the ambition and viciousness to take over the wastelands.”

  “Sounds like the Sloans are trying to start a war.” Rex nodded in Joe’s direction. “Unlike soldier boy there, war isn’t my thing, so I vote for us going in and giving the Sloans a good ass-whooping.”

  “I hate to admit this, but for once, I agree with Rex,” Joe said. “But we have one really big problem with that plan.”

  “What’s that?” Rex asked.

  “The Sloans have an army. We don’t,” Joe replied.

  “We might be able to do this without one.” Reuben steepled his fingers.

  Rex pointed at Reuben’s brow, which was furrowed in concentration. “I know that look. You’ve got the makings of a plan in that head of yours.”

  Reuben thought for a length before speaking. “Roderick Sloan is hosting the army. When Gabriel is in Cavil, he has no more than a couple of dozen murcs with him.”

  Rex shrugged. “The three of us against a couple of dozen murcs, no problem.” He looked Reuben up and down, then Joe. “The two of us against a couple of dozen murcs, no problem. Anything can be killed if you have a big enough blaster.”

  Joe chortled. “Though it should be noted that Gabriel Sloan has Bolt and Tumbler at his side as personal bodyguards. At least, he did the last time I saw him.”

  “I look forward to killing that pair of turncoats,” Rex said.

  Joe sighed. “We also have the rest of the Iron Guild to deal with.”

  Rex grunted. “Two hunters, we can handle. Not an entire guild.”

  “A guild is only as good as its hunters,” Reuben said.

  “Yeah, well, the Iron Guild has most of the hunters from Haft as well as all the ones Cat had before, so I’d say that the Iron Guild is pretty dang good right now,” Rex said.

  “Not necessarily,” Reuben said. “The only thing Cat treasures more than money is her pride.”

  “You can say that again,” Rex said wryly.

  Reuben continued. “Her convoy attack on Haft’s gave her a very public black eye. If she thinks Sloan is setting her up for anything that could hurt her reputation, I could see her back out.”

  “We’re going to need Kit’s help,” Joe said.

  “Yes,” Reuben said.

  “Can we trust him?” Rex asked.

  Joe thought for a moment. “I trust him to do the right thing.”

  Reuben spoke. “Then we’d better convince him that turning against his boss
and guild is the right thing.”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Kit parked next to three cutters he recognized as belonging to Iron Guildsmen. They’d been easy to locate; Cat required all her employees to have trackers on their vehicles. What Cat didn’t know was that her tracking system was child’s play to hack into. Kit had originally hacked Cat’s system so he could change the location reading of his tracker at any time, which had come in handy earlier that day when he’d driven Joe around Cavil.

  One of the parked cutters belonged to Lobo, a hunter loyal enough to Cat to loan her his rig until hers could be repaired. Sucker. Kit couldn’t imagine allowing anyone else to drive Silver Shark, especially not someone he disliked as much as Cat. She wasn’t a bad person, but she never let anything like morals or scruples get in her way. To her, money came first, with pride a close second. That made her the opposite of Kit. Sure, he liked getting paid, but he’d become a bounty hunter to take out the worst of the worst.

  His sister had always jested that wanting to be a hero would only get Kit killed, but he never wanted to be a hero. Heroes had altruistic motives, and Kit’s were selfish. A thief, one with an active bounty on his head, had killed his sister and her husband, who’d had the misfortune to come home during a robbery. If a bounty hunter had been doing their job, Kit’s sister would still be alive. Kit couldn’t save Miko, but he could save someone else’s sister.

  Or in this case, Nick Swinton’s widow.

  He put his cutter into lockdown and stood, looking at the MRC building before him. The stone exterior had plenty of patches from blaster shots and cannon fire. All murc buildings had been Zenith State government buildings before the Revolution. Many had been destroyed, but those that hadn’t, had become the offices for murcs, primarily administrators, or held barracks for soldier housing. Cavil’s MRC building was the largest Kit had seen that was still standing.

  He headed toward the building in which Gabriel Sloan, Cavil’s administrator, worked and lived. Kit had heard that Sloan had other homes that offered him more privacy and even access to a silo that hadn’t been sealed off by Zenith, but Kit only knew the location of Sloan’s publicly known home, where he hoped to learn of Sara Swinton’s whereabouts.

  Murcs guarded the front entrance. One held up a hand as Kit approached.

  “No weapons,” the murc said.

  Kit tapped the emblem of two crossed spears on his bicep. “I’m with the Iron Guild.”

  The murc gave a small nod and stepped aside for Kit to enter. The bounty hunter strode into the long building. The atrium was a bustle of activity. Amid armed murcs, people came and went, many carrying things from tablets to boxes of fresh produce. Small cafés and vendors filled the central space. Doors dotted the walls on each side of the large building. Nearly every door had the MRC letters printed on it, from officer quarters to armory to offices.

  Kit reached the middle of the long atrium when he saw a door that read, GABRIEL SLOAN, MRC ADMINISTRATOR, CAVIL, MIDLANDS ZONE.

  Outside the door was what looked to be a café, with lush plants hanging from the ceiling and a water fountain providing soothing, bubbling background mood. He took a seat under an exceptionally large fern so that he could take in the area.

  Sara Swinton could be working anywhere in the building, at a food stand or in housekeeping, if she was even there. Knowing the Sloan brothers’ reputation, she was likely already dead or sold off to a factory farm in another zone. It wasn’t right. Nick Swinton was the best man Kit had ever known and would’ve done anything for his fellow Ravens—including sacrificing himself to save them, which he did. He should’ve lived instead of Kit or Joe or any of the others, but that wasn’t how fate played her hand. Instead, Nick was six feet under while his widow was in trouble. The least Kit could do for Nick now was to get his widow to safety, and if that wasn’t possible, kill the man responsible for killing her.

  Speak of the devil…

  The door opened. Two armed murcs stepped out first, followed by the plump, middle-aged man with slicked-back hair. Behind him came another two murcs, also carrying blasters.

  Kit laughed inaudibly. It’d be laughably easy to kill Gabriel Sloan. During the wars, no one could get close to an administrator, and if one managed to get close, there’d be dozens of armed murcs to deal with. But here and now, a single shot to the head would eliminate a scourge from the Midlands.

  Kit considered it for a second before brushing off the thought. It would be imprudent and hasty to make a kill without an exit strategy. Once he’d mapped out the building and knew how many murcs he’d need to deal with, perhaps he’d come back and finish the job.

  He stiffened. Another pair of murcs came out through the doorway. Between them walked a woman Kit recognized from the photograph he’d seen earlier that day. Sara Swinton was even prettier than in her picture, though now her gaze had a sad cast to it, and her brow was furrowed.

  He was surprised to learn she hadn’t remarried. Nick had been dead for nearly a decade, and it couldn’t have been easy raising a child on her own, though Kit supposed she wasn’t on her own with Joe helping her out. Kit knew Joe felt as obligated as he did in helping Nick’s family since neither Joe nor Kit would be alive if it hadn’t had been for Nick.

  That Sara was still alive was a relief, but her proximity to Sloan would make freeing her more challenging. He watched her be escorted behind Sloan to another door, which the group disappeared through.

  Kit stood and walked over to the door. It read PRIVATE: MRC ACCESS ONLY.

  He frowned. What game was Sloan playing? Answers came to mind, none of them in any way appealing. He’d lucked out seeing her today, but he needed to research the building and Sloan’s habits before making a move. And he had no time to waste.

  He spun on his heel to leave, only to find himself facing Cat and Lobo.

  She cocked her head. “Turbo. What are you doing here?”

  He scrambled for an answer. He settled on, “I was looking for you.”

  Her brows rose. “For me? Whatever for?”

  “I thought I’d check in to see if you have any tickets up for grabs,” he replied.

  She didn’t seem convinced. “You drove all the way here from Copper Gulch just to chat with me? Why didn’t you just call?”

  “I needed to come to Cavil to pick up a new GPS sensor for my cutter. I saw the Iron Guild’s cutters, so I thought I’d take a gander.” He shrugged. “Honestly, I was more bored than anything.”

  After a moment, she sighed. “I’m light on tickets right now. A few clients have gotten skittish after the Haft incident, though that’ll blow over soon enough.”

  Haft incident. That was a nice way of putting it, Kit thought, since he would’ve phrased it as “Cat declaring war on another guild.” Sometimes, Kit found that he missed the simplicity of war. In war, lines were drawn, and the sides were clear. He could trust his teammates with his life. Life after war was exhausting. No one had his back, and he couldn’t rely on anyone, let alone trust anyone.

  “I can check with Sloan if he wants to take on another full-time hunter. He already put Bolt and Tumbler on his payroll, without asking me,” she said, with a sour tone.

  He considered the option. Working for Sloan would mean he’d likely get face time with the administrator, but from what he’d seen of Bolt and Tumbler, they were always off doing jobs for him and rarely in his office. That meant Kit might not get the time or opportunity to grab Sara. “I’d prefer not to be locked into a full-time gig, but I’ll take what I can get,” he said.

  She thought for a moment. “Well, I have a couple of tickets I can open up to you, but it’ll be a split bounty.”

  “Who else is running them?”

  She smiled. “Just you, but I take half-credit to make up for the losses Lobo caused when he ran with them.”

  He gave a nod and held out his hand. “I’ll take them.”

  She set two black cards in his palm. “These are knockout tickets that can be carried ou
t with extreme prejudice. This pair has proven to be slippery. I need undeniable proof that they’re dead. That means I need to see the bodies for myself.”

  Kit opened the kill orders displayed on each ticket. He was glad he was wearing his helmet so Cat couldn’t see the surprise on his face. He hadn’t expected to see the faces of the two men he’d met a couple hours earlier. He glanced over the details of each ticket: Reuben Tally’s, then Rex “T-Rex” Orlov’s.

  “Do you have a problem with the tickets?”

  He pocketed the tickets. “No, not at all.”

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Bolt and Tumbler entered Madame Bovary’s House of Pleasure in full armor and with their blasters in hand. The prostitutes inside skittered away upon seeing them, and the madame rushed forward. Bolt could tell she’d been pretty in her younger days, but age had taken her smooth skin and feminine curves.

  “Gentlemen, there’s no need for weapons drawn here,” she said.

  “We’re looking for someone,” Bolt began pleasantly.

  “We know he’s here. One of your whores tipped us off,” Tumbler blurted out.

  Bolt tossed a glare at his partner, though even without his helmet, Tumbler still wouldn’t have noticed.

  “I’m hoping you can help us. It’s very important I find my friend.” Bolt holstered his blaster and pulled out a handful of credits.

  The madame perked up. “Our patrons come here for discretion.”

  Bolt reached into his pocket and pulled out more credits. In his hand, he held more credits than most people saw in a month, but he knew how brothels worked. They provided safe havens to patrons…up to a point. Each madame had a different point. This one was one of the more expensive ones.

  She smiled. “Perhaps I can be of assistance.”

  “A bounty hunter came in earlier wearing an exoshield. The name on his armor is Havoc.”

  After a length, she spoke. “I have seen him. He is a guest here.”