James Axler – Rat King

splintered bone on its removal.

There were no other weapons in the clothes, and Jak allowed Abner to dress

quickly before ushering him toward the door.

He left Dean to deal with the girl.

“You just stay here, stay quiet,” Dean whispered. “I won’t harm you unless you

shout or scream, so don’t do that. Okay?”

The girl nodded, clutching the sheet to herself—more in the manner of a shield

from the knife than in any kind of modesty.

Dean left her, turning his back to follow Jak across the room.

He was only a few steps behind the albino when he heard the rusty click.

Whirling on his toes, Dean caught the barest glimpse of the girl kneeling on the

bed, her nakedness now fully exposed as she grappled with the old blunderbuss

that Abner kept by his side in the bed. The rusty click had been the old hammer

being hauled back.

She started to raise her head and aim the blaster.

She never made it.

Without pause for thought, Dean judged the distance and range, taking the

largest part of the target to get the maximum chance of a hit. The knife left

his hand and was embedded in her breastbone before she had a chance to blink.

Eyes still wide in shock, the girl fell onto the stinking mattress, dropping the

blaster under her.

Abner started to shout, either in shock or outrage, but was stopped by the

sudden pressure of Jak’s knife on his carotid artery. He watched in silence as

Dean hurried to the now dead girl and turned her over to remove the knife and to

make the blaster safe. She had died with the hammer still cocked and ready, not

even given the reflex time to squeeze the trigger.

“Good chill—you remember,” Jak whispered in Abner’s ear. The old man tried to

nod, but stopped when he realized that it pressed the blade into his artery.

Dean took the lead as they left the shack, Abner stumbling momentarily when he

saw the bodies of the chilled sec. It was a simple matter to return to the adobe

hut where Ryan and the others were waiting. Mac was still lying outside, still

unconscious.

Dean pulled the wooden gate open, and Abner walked inside with Jak’s knife at

his throat. When Dean had shut the gate behind them, Jak withdrew the knife and

stood back, at the same time gently pushing Abner so that the baron stumbled

into the center of the room, where he came to stand near the still shivering and

muttering J.B.

Mildred, bent over the Armorer, looked up but said nothing.

Ryan was standing, arms folded, partially in shadow. Krysty was beside him. They

said nothing.

“What is it you want?” Abner asked in a tremulous voice.

Still no one spoke.

“Look, you…you can have anything you want, friends,” Abner stuttered in a

pitiful voice. “You can leave before morning, with supplies. We don’t have much,

but it’s yours.”

“Right, we leave the ville and end up in the valley, where your sec men can

outnumber us in an environment where they’re more familiar with the conditions.

Yeah, that makes a lot of sense,” Mildred scoffed without looking up.

Abner gave her a puzzled look. “Why would we come after you?”

“The ritual chilling.” Ryan spoke softly, his voice all the more menacing for

its relative calm. “You haven’t forgotten that, have you? You still need victims

for it. Us.”

Abner spread his hands and shrugged. “So we don’t make a sacrifice to the sun…it

won’t be the first time.”

“Fat man give in too easily,” Jak muttered.

Abner turned to the albino. “Why not? You’ve got me at your mercy. I’d have to

be triple stupe to try and hold out on you now.”

“But later?” Ryan asked.

Abner shrugged again. “Okay, I could send sec men against you, true enough, I

guess. But why waste time on outlanders when we have enough trouble just

surviving and coping with the insiders when they come for us?”

Ryan said nothing for a moment. He could see the fear and worry in Abner’s eyes,

reflecting the smoky glow of the hurricane lamp. He had the baron on the run, if