James Axler – Gemini Rising

“Sure,” the boy mumbled, rolling over onto his side. “No prob.”

ON THE COLD STREETS of the ville, two figures moved through the darkness to the creek that washed through a sluice gate and into the quarry below. One man kept careful watch as the other tossed in a plastic bottle.

“Sure they’ll understand?” the short man asked.

The bald man bared a broken-toothed grin. “Of course they will. Only dumb-ass four-eyes learn reading and such. We send them a bottle with a sheet of paper, means one thing. Bottle with a feather means another, and like that. Who needs writing?”

“But you stuffed this one full of leaves. What does that mean?”

The ville sec man watched as the bobbing bottle quickly floated along the turbulent creek and vanished out of sight into the stygian night. “Revenge,” he said softly.

Chapter Five

With the coming of the dawn, the companions met in the dining room of the inn and broke fast with toasted acorn bread, wild honey and bacon. Mildred inspected the bacon carefully before allowing any of them to eat the meat. Nowadays, undercooked ham in any form could give a person trichinosis, which meant a horrible death, eaten alive by the microscopic worms.

Feeling brave that morning, Doc dared to venture a cup of the cook’s homemade coffee, and ruefully agreed with the rest of the ville. It looked like coffee and smelled similar, and there the resemblance abruptly ended.

They were just finishing their second helping when a blast of cold air swept the room, and Stephen walked into view from around the damaged plywood buffer. This day the fat man was dressed in tanned leather clothes, rough and durable, and rawhide boots, with none of the fancy trimmings of the previous day. A sleek longblaster was slung across his back, and a coiled bullwhip dangled from his left side. Canvas gloves were tucked into the front of his belt, a dark wool hat on his head.

As he drained his cup of sassafras tea, Ryan’s opinion of the man went up a notch. At least he was dressed for travel today, and not like a baron’s jester.

“Good morning,” Stephen said, striding to their table. “The sun is up, so let’s get moving. I want to reach the lake before nightfall, so we can avoid camping on the open road.”

“Half expected Monty to be with you,” J.B. said, brushing the crumbs off his shirt.

Stephen stole a slice of bread, dipped it into the bowl of cloudy honey and took a bite. “Crazy bastard woke me before dawn.”

“The man sure doesn’t like you,” Mildred stated, rising carefully, keeping most of her weight on the crutch. “Might be wise to find another ville.”

“Can’t,” Stephen mumbled, stuffing the rest of the acorn bread into his full mouth. He swallowed most of it unchewed. “I have to live here. Married his sister.”

“Ah. My condolences.”

The fat man shrugged and stole a drink from a cold cup of tea.

“Let’s get moving,” Ryan said, turning from the table in disgust. The caravan owner ate like a pig. The one-eyed man lifted his backpack and rifle in one hand. “The sooner we start, the earlier we arrive.”

The rest of the companions gathered their belongings and started out, but a voice called for Jak.

He turned and saw Lily rushing over. She kissed him on the cheek, pressing a cloth bundle into his hand.

“Lil said to give you this in case you left before she got back,” the woman said.

Jak weighed the package in his palm. “Heavy. What is?”

“A fifth of ‘shine,” she said. “The good stuff. So you’ll think of us with every sip and not forget too quickly.” He pulled the woman close in a crushing hug and kissed her deeply. “Won’t forget,” he said with unaccustomed feeling. “Ever.”

Releasing her, he tucked the bottle into a pocket and buttoned the flap closed tight. Digging in another pocket of the fatigues, he unearthed a similar bundle.

“Here,” he said, pushing it into her hands.

Smiling slightly, Lily untied the knot. Inside the square of cloth were a dozen .22-caliber rounds perfect for the derringer.