“Cheatin’ bastard.” The razor dropped from nerveless fingers, tinkling on the floor, where it was surrounded by a puddle of crimson from the two bullet holes.
“That’s all nine,” Clinkerscales called. “Everyone can get up now and go on home. We got some cleaning up to do. Open again tomorrow for business. As usual.”
Ryan backed away toward the stairs, stepping over corpses, avoiding the pools of congealing blood. His blaster kept the saloon covered, drawing the other six after him, all of them watching for any sign of aggression.
But there wasn’t any further threat.
Several of the whores were still hysterical. One or two of the others saw how much manly attention that got and threw themselves into screaming fits, as well.
By the time the friends reached the top of the stairs, the bar was resuming a faint resemblance of normality. Fully three-quarters of the surviving men in the place were already gone, scooting out through the bat-wing doors, vanishing into the darkness of the shantytown.
Clinkerscales came after the companions, still hefting the sawed-down.
“That’s it,” he said.
“The girl?” Jak asked.
The barkeep answered without looking at the teenager. “Gone. Soon as bullets started flying.”
“Don’t blame her,” Krysty said. “Bad scene here.”
Clinkerscales nodded, a slight nervous tic marking his head jerk to the side. “Worst I ever saw. One time Trader’s men ride on by. Like they always said.”
“What?” Ryan said, becoming angry.
“Where Trader set his foot the flowers died. And nothing ever grew there again. Same with you and Mr. Dix.”
“You asked us to stay,” the Armorer reminded him grimly. “Not our fault.”
“Mebbe not. Shit, but I’m tired. All right. Shouldn’t have said what I did. But the chilling was… Just go in the morning and don’t come back.” He turned away, then hesitated. “And take care if you ride near Baron Sharpe’s ville.”
Chapter Fifteen
During the night, after everyone had fieldstripped and cleaned their firearms under J.B.’s strict eye, they discussed whether to return to the redoubt or whether to explore a little farther.
“I’m interested in this Baron Sharpe,” Krysty said. “Man with his own personal zoo-including two-legged animals-sounds like someone we should go visit.”
Ryan shook his head. “You can’t clear up every piece of dirt in Deathlands, lover. There just isn’t enough time.”
“Or enough bullets,” Jak added. “Though did well saving young woman.”
“Hope she got away safe.” Mildred looked behind them at the shacks and tents of Green Hill, three-quarters of a mile back. Smoke from dawn fires smeared the land to the south. “I know she was innocent, but they’ll see her as the trigger for what happened last night. Blame her for the spilled blood.”
It was a cool morning, with streaks of high cloud slicing across the pink-blue sky. There had been a shower of rain during the small hours, and the ground smelted green and fresh.
The furrowed track ahead of them showed the characteristic ribbon effect of earthquakes, winding down a hillside, between the scorched ruins of a few buildings.
“Rad counter’s on orange,” J.B. said. “Best we get away from here in a week or so.”
Ryan nodded his agreement. “Yeah. Right. I haven’t seen anything yet round Washington Hole that’d make me want to stay here for too long.”
THE CLOUDS HAD THICKENED and darkened, with the threat of some serious rain sweeping in from the north. They had already seen several vivid flashes of chem lightning and caught the distant sound of thunder.
“Old church ahead of us,” Krysty said, pointing to a squat building in lichen-covered stone. One wall had completely fallen in, but the other end had a stubby tower with a twisted metal cross still fixed to its top.
“No real need to stop.” J.B. blinked toward the gathering storm.
“Smear your glasses and get your blasters all wet, John,” Mildred argued.
“True,” he admitted. “From the look of the clouds, it shouldn’t be much more than a sharp shower.”
Krysty looked at Ryan. “We stop, lover?”
“Time doesn’t mean much when you don’t have things to do and places to be. I’m happy to stay awhile and sit out the rain. No objections? None? Then we’ll stop here.”