James Axler – Shadowfall

Mildred poked a forefinger at his chest. “So, how come you’re up there playing Sir Galahad? Riding in to the rescue of us all? Why wasn’t your mind sucked down to a dark level?” She answered her own question. “Maybe because it was already too damned dark inside your skull.”

“No. I would love to tell you” He broke off as J.B. handed back the gold-decorated Le Mat. “My thanks, my dear fellow. Now, where was I?”

“In the tent with everyone else,” Mildred snapped.

“I had a cold, which happened to close my nose off from the soporific effects of their herbs. And I had blocked my ears to try to shield myself from the rumbling snores of Trader. So, to cut a long story short, I was strolling among the trees, admiring the beauty of the night”

“Taking a leak,” Mildred interrupted.

“Possibly. Very possibly. You may say that, my dear madam, but you can hardly expect me to comment on it. I returned from taking afrom admiring the beauty of the nocturnal forest, when I witnessed the arrival of friend Straub, Schickel and their choice chums.”

“They planning to chill us and take all the blasters?” Trader asked.

“More than that, I do believe. Straub is, as we know, a trader in human hair. He aspired to obtain the scalps of both Miss Wroth and young Master Lauren. He was holding a large pair of shearing scissors as they approached the tents.”

“Fucking bastard,” Jak said calmly and quietly.

“Kill me for my hair!” Krysty shuddered, hunching her shoulders protectively.

“Shame you didn’t get the bald bastard on the last train to the coast, instead of Schickel,” Trader commented. “Guess you never thought of that.”

“Of course I thought of it, you oafish lout!” Doc was suddenly furious, pointing his sword stick at Trader’s chest. “Straub was shielded by other men. Time had fully run out, so I did what was best. I had to warn you poor refugees from Sleeping Beauty’s castle, did I not?”

Trader flapped his hand at the ebony cane, knocking it away. “Don’t threaten me, you dumb old bastard! Makes a change that you do something almost right. Most of the time I tell you that all I see is Ryan and the others carrying you like a worn-out suit of clothes.”

There was a whisper of steel as Doc drew the rapier from its sheath. “By God, Trader, but you try my patience too far! Until you arrived back, with the half-remembered relics of your pomp draped about you like the ragged banners of a forgotten army, we all got on well.”

“You going to make me leave?” Trader lifted the Armalite and aimed it squarely at Doc’s chest. “Because it looks like one of us is leaving, Doc.” His lips were peeled back off his teeth, like the snarl of a hunting wolf.

Ryan stepped between them, without drawing his own blaster. “I reckon that’s enough,” he said quietly. “Enough from both of you.”

Nobody moved.

The only sound in the clearing among the towering redwoods was Trader’s harsh breathing.

“Doc saved all our lives back there, Trader. You think what you like, but Doc pulls his weight like everyone else, like you do. Like I do.”

“Hah!” Trader snorted in disbelief.

“And you have no right, Doc, to insult Trader the way you did. For most of my days, he was the most powerful figure in Deathlands. And in my life. Now, we’ve been through a close call. Come out safe the other side. It’s the middle of the night Things get said now and then. Best unsaid. Put down the Armalite, Trader. Doc, sheathe up that sword.”

For a time, neither of the old men moved.

Finally, slowly, Doc took a half pace back, picked up the cane and sheathed the slender blade, nodding to Trader. “I concede that I was less than fair to your reputation.”

But the Armalite hadn’t moved.

Ryan looked at his former leader. “Put the blaster down, Trader.”

“You telling me or asking, Ryan? Best you answer me that right here and now.”

“I’m asking you this time around. Next time is when I tell you.”