The scrambling noise was closer and she straightened, clenching her fists, bracing herself.
The last of the fladgies, called Brother James, was already up against the fear and pain barrier. Three of them, led by Isaac, had gone into the barn. There’d only been the sound of one blaster being fired, and James had waited confidently for them all to reappear so they could get into the house.
He’d waited.
But nobody reappeared and he’d lost his nerve and run, filled with terror. Several of the fladgies had been scared of the black woman and the teenager with the stark white hair and ruby eyes, whispering out of the hearing of the Apostle Simon that they were emissaries of the devil’s goat. Though they’d captured them safely and were going to take the next day over their slow deaths, the residual fear remained.
Something had obviously swallowed the others in the darkness, and James wasn’t about to get himself sucked into the same slime pit of horror.
He nearly fell on a sidewinder twist in the arroyo, barely keeping his balance.
Recovering just as the moon lanced through from behind the ridge of low cloud, James looked into the glittering green eyes of the fire-headed goddess of death.
Krysty punched at the slightly built man with her right fist, putting all of her body weight and power behind the blow. She aimed at the fladgie’s throat, feeling the thyroid cartilage crushed against her knuckles. Even if her victim had been aware enough to try to call for help, it would have been a futile gesture, his vocal cords smashed by the ferocity of the attack.
Krysty followed up with an equally devastating punch from her left fist, aimed a little higher, beneath the point of the chin, fracturing the hyoid bone and causing irreparable damage to the epiglottis.
The religious crazie fell back as though he’d been poleaxed, dropping a large automatic in the dirt. He kicked up the dirt, his mouth open as he fought for breath, making only a faint croaking sound. His hands clutched at his throat.
Krysty took two deep breaths as she looked down at the helpless fladgie. The chiseled sliver points on the toes of her dark blue Western boots had become scratched over the long months, but they were still sharp enough for the purpose.
She judged the distance in the moonlight, seeing a trickle of blood oozing from the choking man’s open mouth, ignoring it. She took a quick step in, swinging her right foot like the old vids she’d seen of football kickers. The metal tip of her boot hit precisely where she’d aimed it, beneath the fladgie’s left ear.
Krysty turned away immediately, stooping to pick up what she recognized as Mildred’s rare Czech revolver. She tucked it in her belt and strode toward the house, leaving the dying man to his solitary passing.
IN THE MOONLIGHT, Dean spotted the glint of cold flame from Krysty’s hair, cautiously calling out to her as he and Doc emerged from the shadows of the orchard.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. You two?”
“Doc killed three of the crazies,” the boy said, his voice breaking into a high, embarrassing squeak with his excitement. “Three aces on the line.”
“I got one. Reckon there were any more?”
Doc shook his head. “There were thirteen of them in total, at my latest counting. Surely four of his small band would be all that the lunatic bedlamite would have hazarded.”
“I saw someone by the dry gulch,” Dean said.
“That’d be the one I got.” Krysty held out the blaster she’d recovered.
“Mildred’s,” Doc observed. “It would seem that we would be well-advised to make a prompt move against the remainder of the ungodly.”
“Agreed,” Krysty said briskly. “Their chief’ll realize, when his men don’t come back, that something’s gone triple wrong. And he might decide to chill Jak and Mildred and make a run for it.”
“So, we go now?” Dean grinned.
Krysty looked at him, and the solemn face of Doc Tanner. “Only three against one, now. Sure. Why not?”
Chapter Thirty-Six
“Blade held low, point up,” J.B. said.
Ryan nodded his agreement. “Course. Though you might do better against someone real good with a knife if you break the rules. Go in high with the point down.”