James Axler – Road Wars

He lay groaning at Ryan’s feet, his legs drawn up, face the color of milk and grits, mouth wide open as he fought to suck in some air.

“Fuck’n chilled ‘im,” said the man with the uncertain beard. “No cause”

Ryan looked up at him, gesturing with the barrel of the 9 mm blaster. “Down,” he said. “You got a warning about being hurt. We only give one warning.”

“You bastard.” The words a painful whisper from the buffalo hunter on his hands and knees. “No call for that.”

Ryan considered laying him out with a kick behind the right ear, but decided that the lesson had probably been learned by the group of men. Word of the lesson would spread quickly through Wetherill Springs.

“Now move away. Next person we see within spitting distance of our wag ends up hurt bad.”

Two of the hunters helped up their injured friend, and they all shambled away, not even looking back at J.B. and Ryan over their shoulders.

“Nice punch,” the Armorer commented. “Pretty. Trader would’ve been proud of you.”

“Thanks.” Ryan bolstered the blaster. “We going to watch this show?”

“Sure. Sounds to me like it could be real interesting.”

It was more than interesting.

Chapter Fourteen

The midday sun shone brightly on the sweating pate of the towering barkeep. He had led the applause after Cassius and Brutus, the black bears, had performed their rota of tricks. But Ryan had noticed that the man had brought his steel jackbox with him and kept it snug beneath his foot.

Virtually everyone in the little pesthole ville had come to the old orchard behind the Shangri-La to watch the noon performance of Mistress Satana and her deadly animals.

Ellie had begun with the rattlers. Nell had carried them on, wearing a short skirt that attracted the wolf whistles, the wind blowing the bright tassels on the row of knives sheathed across her breasts.

There were four of the reptiles, the shortest of them a good seven feet in length. Being kept locked away in a hot and dusty basket had done nothing for their tempers, and they writhed and hissed angrily. Ellie worked them with a hooked cane, no longer than a normal walking stick, constantly keeping her distance from them, dodging as they struck toward her booted legs.

It had silenced the jeers and bawdy shouts from the buffalo hunters, though one of them had queried loudly whether the snakes were really poisonous.

Ellie gestured to Katie, who brought on a mangy black-and-white cat. She laid it on the ground where it cowered down, not trying to run away from the brightly patterned rattlers. Ryan noticed that it seemed paralyzed, its legs clumsy.

“What did you do?” he whispered to the eighteen-year-old young woman as she rejoined her sisters, standing near J.B. and himself by the caged wags.

“Cut its hamstrings,” she replied. “Otherwise you wouldn’t see its ass for smoke.”

Ellie nudged the snakes closer with the stick, watched in silence by her audience.

“But if the poison’s been drained” the Armorer asked quietly.

“Watch,” Nell breathed.

Inevitably one of the snakes struck at the helpless cat, biting it near the shoulder. Though it hissed and squealed in pain and fear, the animal didn’t try to escape.

Ellie stepped in fast and picked it up. A moment later it hung limp and dead in her arms.

“Are they poisonous?” she mocked. “Any of you bold gentlemen care to come and check them out?”

Ryan guessed that he and J.B. were probably the only ones who’d spotted the way Ellie had gripped the cat with her finger and thumb at its nape, giving a sudden squeeze to break the spine and chill it instantly.

The snakes had been returned to their basket before the bears came out.

The beasts played dutifully with a large wooden ball and staged a clumsy boxing match.

“How about your lions and tigers?” shouted the big scar-faced man in the fur coat.

“Here they come, mister,” Elite replied, beckoning to her daughters to release the animals.

Ryan was aware of his own conditioned reflex, his right hand gripping the butt of the blaster, seeing his own reaction mirrored by the audience. The gaudies screamed and clung to the arms of their pimps or lovers. A pretty little girl near the front closed her eyes and said, very clearly, “I like the good animals but not the bad animals.”