Killer Be Killed Page 6

  The two men shook on it. Tablet, Hattie and Roslyn acted as witnesses.

  Roslyn thought about how the playing ground wasn’t even with Wyatt, because he didn’t have the Avians to answer to.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Dogg left town the next morning on a mission. Grace remained behind in their room and in the clubs. He figured he didn’t need to worry about her while he was rubbing elbows with the nasty characters he sought.

  For company, Grace found her way to Roslyn and her crew. They’d joined a poker game at the Golden Jewel Casino. Squirrely-Eyed Dave dealt. He’d earned his nickname by the wild expression in his bug-eyes. He always looked surprised, or geeked out on some adrenaline drug. He was permanently fidgety and clammy.

  Roslyn thought about their case. So far, they couldn’t prove Dogg Holly was guilty of anything other than drunkenness and excessive gambling. According to reputation, he’d killed plenty, but by all accounts each fight was fair. It proved to be exceedingly difficult to imagine who would pay so much money for his bounty and why. The score would certainly help the company stay afloat for a little longer. But was it worth it? One of them could get killed and it wouldn’t be; not one bit worth it. The mole tunneled in again. But that was the job, she reminded herself.

  Her revelry became rudely interrupted when a hand tapped Squirrely-Eyed Dave’s shoulder and the goofy bastard nodded and relinquished his seat as the dealer. In his place, plopped down Drago. He was all-smiles in the early evening; especially for Roslyn, who he tipped his shiny cap to.

  His hair was pulled up in a ponytail and his clothes looked clean. His face appeared freshly shaved and it proved to make him look almost handsome. Scruffy wasn’t so applicable that night. His smile faded when he turned to Talbert, who eyed him with those steely blues.

  “So, I’m curious about something,” Drago said, as he distributed the next round of cards. “Did you all know each other before you came to town?”

  “Who’s that?” asked Roslyn.

  “You and Mr. Holly and his beautiful lady friend here,” Drago said.

  “No,” Roslyn explained. “We just met.”

  “So instant friends, then?” Drago said, wearing a sly grin.

  “Instant friends,” echoed Grace. She was already half in the bag and the sun had just fallen below the mountains.

  “Who’s asking?” Talbert said in his low growl. “And why is it any of his goddamn business?”

  Talbert peeked over Drago’s shoulder to make eye contact with Jules behind the bar. Jules nodded and returned to the conversation he was having with an attractive woman. Roslyn wanted to warn Talbert to tread lightly, but she knew it would only tip their hands. She thought about kicking him under the table but decided against it.

  Jules glanced once more away from the woman and back to Talbert, who had him fixed in his glare. Jules raised an eyebrow and returned the look.

  “Let’s play cards,” Roslyn suggested. But it was too late.

  Jules strode from out behind the bar and sauntered over to the table. All the while Talbert held him in his glower.

  “You do not want to be staring at me like that in my own place,” Jules said. “You have something to say, friend?”

  Talbert continued to stare through the man. The tension squatted over the table, threatening to take a heaping dump of violence at any moment.

  “Tonight isn’t a good night to find yourself on the wrong end of Jules’ temper, bud,” warned Drago.

  “I’m just not too fond of nosey bartenders,” Talbert said.

  “Is that so?” Jules said.

  “It is,” answered Talbert.

  “Well, Drago, explain our policy on that sort of shit to our guest,” said Jules as he walked back to the bar.

  “The policy is, if you have a problem you can get the hells out. That or be shown out,” Drago explained with a snort.

  “I take it you’re the one that does the showing out?” Talbert asked, adjusting his cards.

  “One way or the other,” answered Drago as he turned over a new card.

  “I think we can all just cool out and play some poker, right?” Roslyn suggested.

  “I don’t know, maybe I want to gamble on who would win the fight?” Graceless added with a slight chuckle. “Too bad Dogg’s not here. That’s just his sport.”

  “No reason for anyone to get killed tonight, boys,” Roslyn said, knocking her knuckles on the table.

  “Remember the Avians,” Hattie whispered. “To the highest perch we ascend.”

  “Speaking of birds, how’s that dragon healing?” Drago asked. Roslyn reddened and tried not to glance at Talbert for some reason. But out of the corner of her eye, she caught his head snap up at her.

  “Good. He came potty trained. He raps on the window when he wants us to open it and he does his business out the window. I usually have to yell for people to watch out, ‘dragon shitting underway. Move aside!’” Roslyn said, laughing. Grace found it hilarious and nearly fell out of her seat. Hattie laughed behind her hand, as well; the boys not so much. But it did seem to break the tension to some degree and they resumed their game. “So that’s a plus. That’s a fun thing to do.”

  “So what happened to looking for your… sister, maybe? Was it your sister?” Drago acted confused. “Cause I’d think by now you’d have figured out she’s not here and felt the need to move on in further search of her. No?”

  “We can’t afford the passage, right now. We’d love—” Roslyn was interrupted.

  “Are you writing a fucking article for the news thread?” asked Talbert through gritted teeth.

  “Okay, you know what? I’m going to have to ask you to leave, sir,” Drago said, pushing back his chair and rising to his full height. Talbert stared straight ahead, contemplating, brewing, battling his darker impulses.

  Oh, Bill, you’re going to get us all killed, aren’t you. You son-of-a-bitch.

  “Bill,” Hattie said calmly. He looked at her, slowly. “Go find another game tonight, how about?”

  He stared at her, nostrils flaring, jaws clenching, but he softened when he caught her eye. He released a puff of air through puckered lips, rubbed his face and stood. Drago flinched, ever slightly.

  “Dealer, I’d like to cash out, please,” Talbert said, clearing his throat.

  To Roslyn’s surprise and joyous relief, he’d done the right thing. Had it been Hattie’s fault? No, Roslyn had already reasoned with him. They could both take credit, she assured herself.

  Roslyn felt guilty continuing to play. When Hattie cashed out, her guilt increased even more. But Grace stayed in the game, despite her head swaying from side to side, her eyes tiny slits and a lazy grin on her rosy lips. Roslyn needed to watch over her.

  Besides, Roslyn was riding a hot streak. Things were looking really good. Mother Momentum shone bright upon her.

  “So,” Drago turned to Grace. “What would it take to see you and Dogg out of town… For good?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Grace slurred.

  “It means name an amount. How much did you expect to make in this town?” Drago asked, glancing over her shoulder at Jules, who now leaned closer to hear the answer. Roslyn watched nervously. Dogg was that dangerous. It sent ice crystals dancing off of her arms and legs.

  “I don’t know. Let me speak with my Dogg, my man,” she said, her head threatening to loll off of her shoulders. It very much turned her on to have such a powerful man. You could see it oozing off of her. If he were there, they’d be in their room tearing it apart.

  “Okay, you let me know,” Drago said, with a polite, professional smile.

  “But I doubt he’d want to leave, no matter the cost,” she said. “He likes it here too much. Lot’s of money flowing.”

  Grace closed one eye and made her hand a pistol. She clicked her tongue and gave her finger a jolt, before holstering it and laughing. But then she fell out of the chair.

  “Okay,” Roslyn said. “Off to bed, I think. You gave
it your all.”

  Then it was just Roslyn, Drago and a white hair wearing shades.

  “You know what I hate the most about living out here?” Drago asked, collecting the deadwood pile and reshuffling.

  “What?” asked Roslyn.

  “I can’t get the futbolito scores. I have no idea who’s winning the Champions League,” he said.

  “When I left Earth, Real Madrid won the Champions League.”

  “Okay, so they are still, or were still a power house. Cool. Thanks,” he nodded at her. She grinned and nodded back.

  “So you’re from Earth originally?” she asked.

  “Can you please deal the cards, man?” said the elderly woman wearing shades.

  “I am dealing the cards, ma’am,” he said, dealing the cards.

  “You’re too busy flirting with this woman,” said Granny Shades.

  “I’m not flirting, ma’am. I’m doing my job and making talk with the customers. It’s part of it. Now, if you have a problem I can have Squirrely-Eyed Dave explain to you the policy. Trust me, Miss, you do not want that.”

  Roslyn decided it was time to cash out. But then she played it out in her head and realized how awkward it would be if she hurriedly cashed out now.

  “Just play poker, son,” said Granny Shades. Drago frowned to hide his frustration. Wanting to laugh, Roslyn did her best to keep it internal.

  Roslyn slid the ante to the center of the table and stared at her cards.

  “So, yeah, I’m from Earth originally. Paris. But it’s too crowded back there. Too much noise. I needed to see the wide open planets,” Drago said.

  Maybe it was the whiskey and waters, pinch of sugar, that enchanted her, but she found Drago quite charming that night. He made her laugh. That and she just kept winning. She was having the best time she’d had since she’d left Earth. Something about the excitement reminded of her early days in New York. She ordered another whiskey. It was her turn to blow off some steam for once.

  *

  Talbert

  Talbert glanced up into the sky. The clouds were dark and low, but moving fast. In a quick clearing he noticed both moons were full and slightly red. For some reason this fact sent a shiver up him. He cleared his throat and spat into the mud. He then felt something else that caused him to slide his jacket back from his side arm. He’d heard something. Footfalls in the mud. But more than just footfalls, because those were all around. The thoroughfare was busy. These footfalls were deliberate and approaching.

  The gun arrived before he could completely turn, and once his eyes focused he realized the barrel of his pistol aimed right between Hattie’s eyes.

  “Oh,” he said, lowering the gun. “Good way to get shot, kiddo. Sneaking up on a man like me in the night.”

  “You are fast,” Hattie said in her high, thin voice.

  “Guess that’s why I’m still here,” Talbert said. He turned to continue down the boardwalk. She strolled beside him. Talbert wracked his brain for clever things to say. But he was acutely aware that his deadpan sarcasm could be a turn-off to certain people.

  “My old man always used to say, ‘Consider writing a living will out here, Son.’ I was just thinking of that before you walked up,” he finally blurted.

  “You mean before you put a gun to my head?” she giggled.

  Talbert grunted. That was the closest to an apology he tended to give.

  “What made you think of that?” she asked after a few steps through the mud. She tried to keep her boots clean, but the boardwalk was covered in mud as well, splashed up by the steady traffic.

  “What’s that?” he asked, crunching his nose and leaning his head toward her.

  “Did you tell me that thing about what your father used to say, about being your own person, to make some kind of point?” Hattie asked in a totally unassuming voice.

  “No,” he shook his head. “I was just thinking about the old man.”

  “What was he like? Other than obviously wise,” she asked, turning her eyes sideways toward him. He felt his insides turn to jelly.

  “He was the toughest old son-bitch I’ve ever known. And let me tell you, kiddo, I’ve known some tough mothers from the war. The ones that made it through…” He trailed off, thinking of the now blurry faces attached to names he’d almost forgotten. The guilt of that tugged at his gut.

  “What’d he do for a living?” she asked as they crossed the muddy thoroughfare and headed down the next road over.

  “He was an officer in the UN military and then he retired to be a rancher on Athena. He moved out with my mother before I was born,” Talbert said.

  “Really? So you weren’t born on Earth?” she asked.

  “Nope. Never been there,” he said, almost with pride.

  “Yet you fought for Earth?” she asked.

  “My old man knew,” Talbert said. “These idiots, out here, weren’t going to create a better place than Earth. That was the hope for many, especially because of the Birds’ influence and all that. But he was a visionary thinker, my old man. That or a cynic depending on your take.” He almost added that the Birds were for shit, but he restrained himself.

  “Because we humans basically suck,” Hattie said shaking her head. “Roslyn says it all the time.” Her face looked innocently sincere. “The Birds are slowly moving us toward a new phase of humanity, though. Praise them. To the highest perch we ascend.”

  Talbert checked his natural response to the subject of the Birds. He knew it meant a lot to her.

  “What did he raise?” she asked.

  “Oh we had it all. Our farm was a self-sustaining farm. We had cornfields. Wheat. Separate vegetable garden. Cattle. We also had brought out chickens. Pigs. We had an orchard, a fishpond and a windmill for power. We had solar power as well. With Athena’s subgiant sun that brought in a lot of energy. Enough to keep ten robot farmhands fully charged.”

  “Did the Amazons attack you?” Hattie asked.

  “No. This was before the war. Before someone armed them with our tech,” Talbert said.

  They’d reached the hotel. Talbert held the door open for her.

  “Were you an only child?” Hattie asked as they crossed the lobby and climbed the stairs. The front desk was empty.

  “I had an older brother. Charlie. He died in the war,” Talbert said, turning the elbow of the stairs and heading up another flight.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Hattie said.

  They reached the room. He opened the door for her.

  “What about you?” Talbert asked. “Brothers and sisters?”

  “I have four other siblings. Two sisters and two brothers. The brothers are twins. Jake and Luke. According to the Holy Avians, twins are the separation of a larger soul, or the coming back together of a larger soul. Traffic moves in both directions, I guess.”

  Talbert repressed his desire to call bullshit, but he didn’t want to fight with her. She was too sweet for her own good, he thought.

  “How’s the case coming along, in your opinion?” Hattie changed the subject, sensing his uneasiness.

  “Dogg Holly’s not a reckless madman out murdering for sport,” Talbert said. “I don’t have exact figures, she won’t let me look at them, but I know we’re closing in on a deadline as far as the budget goes.”

  “So then what do we do?” she asked, sitting in the chair beneath the small window.

  “We call it. We go home empty,” Talbert said, taking a seat on the nearest bed.

  A holo-kindle rested on the arm of the chair. She nearly knocked it off adjusting in her seat. It turned on.

  “How long do you think we have before we run out of money?” she asked, reading the book’s title. It was titled The Devil’s Are All Here. A cowgirl with a gun stood in a canyon. She nearly laughed at the thought of Talbert reading such a novel. But he consumed literature like a whale in his sober time, which was usually around noon, when he’d sobered up from the night before and had yet to start on the night ahead. Hattie wondered if t
he books were any good.

  *

  Roslyn

  Roslyn found herself in Drago’s apartment, sipping moonshine. The little voice screamed from some distant background, but she ignored it. She envisioned Talbert carrying Hattie into their room; her face red as she sang.

  The moonshine burned but somehow woke her.

  “This reminds me of vodka,” she said, holding up the clear liquid to the light. “Have anything to mix it with?”

  “I have a brockden I can chop up and squeeze in,” Drago said, moving to his small kitchenette. He returned a minute later with the citrus fruit chopped into quarters. He squeezed it into her glass. What was she doing there? She couldn’t remember exactly. But she was letting herself have some fun for once. Drago, despite being a dangerous man, didn’t seem the raping kind. Besides, she was well trained. He did look very strong, though.

  “So what’s the real purpose for you being here in town?” asked Drago taking a seat next to her on his couch. She was surprised at how relatively clean the apartment was, considering his natural scruffiness. There was a musky, mildew smell to the place but things appeared uncluttered and for the most part tidy.

  “Same reason everybody else is in this town. Money,” she said, thinking of the stack of plastic chips in her own pocket. There were several brown chips and a few green and three white ones. Those were worth one hundred credits. Had he let her win? The thought sent a dozen worms racing along her backside. Was this a set-up? That pesky mole did come prowling.

  “So what of all that business about looking for your security guard’s sister?” he asked.

  “His sister stuff is on his own time. Part of the reason he agreed to work for us, was so that he could still look for his sister in the meantime. We’re just trying to make a living. The galaxy is a big place. She could be anywhere.” Despite being quiet drunk her logic was sound and Drago seemed to accept it without further question.

  There followed a silence, which was occupied by them sipping their moonshine. She winced at the burn. The brockden did help considerably with the taste, though.