Robinson Crusoe 2245: (Book 2) (21 page)

Valud swung his blade again, gnashing his teeth and shifting his balance to keep Robinson off the balls of his feet. This man was Aserra. There was no doubt. And yet his moves were slow and indecisive, as if he hadn’t wielded a blade in some time.

“Don’t you understand?” Robinson said. “We’re on the same side!”

“I am on
my
side,” Valud spat. “And you have no place here!”

Valud swung the dagger in great arcs that made it difficult for Robinson to counter. He tried to lock onto the rhythm of the swings, but the dark, smoky corridor made it hard to see.

Robinson’s tomahawk swung in counter movements, pairing the men in a dance of death, each waiting for the other to make that singular mistake that led to victory or defeat.

Robinson feinted high and went low. The blade caught Valud on the outside of the thigh, and he stumbled. Robinson brought the axe up, but Valud rolled out of the way a moment before the axe struck the ground.

Valud screamed with rage and charged Robinson, who stumbled over one of the dead Flayers on the floor. Valud swooped in for the killing blow but was shocked when a red light blinded him.

Robinson couldn’t pull the trigger—it would alert every Flayer in the village to his presence—but the laser was distraction enough to let Robinson bring the axe down on Valud’s foot, cleaving it in two.

Valud choked out half a scream before Robinson pivoted hard and took his head off with a single whack, sending it rolling down the hallway.

Robinson was stumbling to his feet when something at the far end of the corridor caught his eye. A Flayer rushed down the stairs before turning quickly for the pyramid’s front entrance. There was something familiar in that gait.

“Friday?” Robinson called.

Friday never heard it. She was already pushing through the front door. She expected immediate resistance. What she saw instead was the guards suddenly breaking from the pyramid to run toward the bazaar. She immediately realized she had a very real chance to flee unseen. She pulled a hood over her face and kept her eyes down as she descended the steps.

As she entered the crowd, she sensed, as they had, something big was about to happen.

Boss’s men were unloading the last car of gunpowder. She had told them to go slow to buy the kid some time, but it was becoming obvious that he wouldn’t return.

At the same time, the Flayer army loomed ever closer. They appeared relaxed, as if their presence there was nothing more than show, but a niggling fear began to eat away at Boss. There was a current of tension coming from the crowd that didn’t feel right. They were excited, which made sense, as they were a part of this fête, but Boss had survived on her gut feeling, and now it was telling her to be wary.

Boss had always known betrayal was a possibility. It didn’t make sense, but few things of this world did. She’d taken what precautions she could, but something told her it wasn’t enough. Even if she had brought every Big Hat in Cowboytown and armed them with rifles and guns, they still wouldn’t have the numbers to defeat the army before her.

Boss gave a special signal to Mr. Dandy in the cab. He pulled one of the Big Hats close, and the man went to retrieve a box.

Out across the bazaar, a wave of cheers went up. The crowd surged together and then parted as Baras’Oot’s retinue arrived. He was carried on an ornate palanquin. He waved languidly to the crowd that gesticulated with reverence as he passed.

Boss felt her throat tighten as his sideshow approached and came to a halt some fifty paces away.

Boss gave a quick bow, and Baras’Oot nodded in return.

Arga’Zul approached.

“Seventy tons of gunpowder delivered to you on time, as promised,” Boss said. “Can I assume the food stocks are nearby?”

Arga’Zul looked past her.

“I like your ship,” he said.

“Thank you. It’s called a train.”

Arga’Zul grinned at her correction.

“It goes where my ship does not.”

“Anywhere there are rails.”

“I think I’ll take it too.”

The buzz in her belly went nuclear, but Boss held her ground.

“I’m afraid it’s not for sale,” Boss said. “And in case you’ve forgotten, we already have a bargain. The gunpowder for the food stocks.”

“I offer a new bargain,” Arga’Zul said. “Give me the train and I will let you live. Your men … I will take as slaves.”

“And if I say ‘no’?” Boss asked.

Arga’Zul looked back to his brother and then smiled again.

“You will die,” he said.

And then Arga’Zul held up a fist. The Bone Flayer army immediately fell into fighting stance, archers drawing back bows. On the train and below, the Big Hats pulled their guns.

The moment was electric.

And then Boss held up a device.

“Then I reckon we’ll have to die together,” she said.

Arga’Zul frowned.

“What is this?” he asked.

“It’s called an explosive charge, made from the very gunpowder sitting at your feet. I’ve hidden one of these in each bundle of gunpowder. If your army attacks,
boom
. If you try to find them,
boom
. I estimate just one could take out half the folks on this parade ground. Reckon all three might take out that fancy pyramid as well. If I were you, I’d honor our agreement, give us the food you promised, and let us go on our way.”

“You’re bluffing,” Arga’Zul said, but he seemed unsure.

“Oh, you think so? Maybe this’ll change your mind.”

She pulled a pin, and the device started ticking.

“You have sixty seconds,” Boss said.

Arga’Zul’s smile faded. He searched Boss’s eyes but found no deception and too little fear there. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He looked back at his brother and saw his retinue drawing back.

Arga’Zul signaled one of the warriors at the front of the line and pointed to the device in Boss’s hands. The Bone Flayer did as ordered. He approached Boss, who saw no reason not to hand it over.

The Flayer quickly turned and sprinted toward the river. Boss prayed the kid had designed it correctly. If it failed to go off or took too long, they were all dead.

“Now, we find out,” Arga’Zul said. “But if you are bluffing, I will flay every inch of your skin and feed on it personally.”

Everyone kept their eyes on the young savage as he ran across the parade ground, save Boss and Arga’Zul. Their eyes stayed locked on each other.

When the minute seemed to pass, Arga’Zul’s mouth curled.

And then a deafening blast erupted near the water, and the crowd reared back in horror.

Baras’Oot’s retinue turned and quickly ushered him away.

Boss smiled.

Arga’Zul felt a desire to rush Boss and snap her neck with his bare hands. But this was only a brief setback. Both he and the train woman knew he could crush her precious town at any time. Part of him even admired her for her courage. But it sent a message to his people that he would have to rectify.

“Give her the supplies,” Arga’Zul said to his men.

Boss took a deep breath as the tension seeped from her body.

The food supplies had been stored on the opposite side of the bazaar. Shortly thereafter, Bone Flayers began arriving with boxes of produce and livestock.

Mr. Dandy counted the supplies as they were loaded onto the train. Boss had insisted the gunpowder not be removed until everything in her ledger was accounted for.

Mox watched the goods come in with mounting frustration. Part of him expected a fight. The stranger kid had beaten him on the train—embarrassed him, really. He never expected the kid to be so fast. But he shouldn’t have been surprised. He was one of those people who everything seems to turn out right for, unlike Mox. He’d always had rotten luck. Now, he’d return to Cowboytown and be the butt of everyone’s jokes. Even worse, if the kid came back, he’d be the one on the outside. And that didn’t mean more sentry duty out at the yards. It meant him on a boat to somewhere else. And that didn’t sit right. Not at all.

As Mox looked out, he saw a group of scantily clad women standing at the edge of the bazaar. They were dark-skinned and wore heavy makeup that made them look foreign and unlike anyone at Cowboytown.

“Hey, Boss,” Mox said. “What say you get the big fella there to throw in a couple of his whores? We need some new stock.”

“You know I don’t barter in slaves,” Boss said. “Get back to work.”

“So you can help the kid find his girl, but you can’t get one for me? I’ve been working for you for five years.”

“And you’ll be out of work unless you do your job and let me do mine. I’m the boss here, remember?”

“Maybe that should change,” Mox muttered.

Mox suddenly had an idea.

“Hey, Chief,” he called to Arga’Zul. “You know you’re getting screwed here, dontcha?”

“What are you doing?” Boss asked.

“Cheated,” Mox said. “You savvy, cheated?”

“Mox, shut the hell up,” Boss said.

Arga’Zul’s eyes narrowed. “Cheated how?”

Boss saw the situation spiraling out of control. She signaled her men to pull Mox back, but it was too late.

“Our fearless leader here brought a kid to your village. Set him off soon as we arrived. He means to take something don’t belong to him, understand?”

“Something?” Arga’Zul asked.

“Someone,” Mox said, grinning. “A girl. A savage girl.”

Arga’Zul suddenly reached out and grabbed Mox by the shirt.

“Describe this boy,” Arga’Zul barked.

“Sure, sure,” Mox said, realizing he’d made a terrible mistake. “He’s a foreigner. Has a funny accent and carries an axe—”

Arga’Zul whirled and took off for the pyramid in a dead run, screaming at his warriors as he passed.

“Kill them!” he said.

The Bone Flayers charged, forcing the cowboys to open fire. As bullets and arrows flew, the Big Hats took shelter behind the mountains of gunpowder and what stacks of food remained outside the train.

Boss pulled both her pistols and dove behind the first gunpowder mound, screaming, “Start the train!”

Mr. Dandy hustled into the engine cab.

The parade ground descended into pandemonium. Somewhere in the crowd, pounding drums sounded and drowned out the crackling gunfire. Mox fired into the crowd, but an arrow struck him in the hamstring and another in the back. He cried out as he fell, begging his men to come back for him, but the Flayers were too quick. The horde was on him in an instant, dragging him back into the heart of the crowd, where they tore him limb from limb.

Boss knew the time for hard measures had come. She whistled and gave the signal to arm the detonators. She armed the one in the gunpowder mound in front of her and ran for the train.

The countdown had begun.

The eruption of gunfire echoed across the bazaar. Though the sound was unfamiliar to most, the rush of Bone Flayers speeding toward the parade grounds sent a wave of panic through the crowd.

Traders watched in confusion as the merchants quickly closed up shop and motioned angrily for them to leave. Bewilderment quickly turned into dread as villagers began running for the safety of the pyramid. The war cries could soon be heard over the trampling of feet, followed by the release of arrows and screams.

Friday pushed against the current of the byzantine grounds until she came in sight of the building that held the flier. Four guards stood outside. Although they remained at their post, Friday could see they were tense—their focus solely on the battle unfolding without them.

She looked for a weapon.

Jaras had heard the train’s arrival and wanted to see it for himself. It was a seminal piece of the industrial revolution, and yet its colorful fortifications made it look almost comical.

There was no laughing, however, when Arga’Zul abruptly fled the parade ground. The familiar pit of bile began to churn in his belly. He was already on his heels when the fighting started and a wave of war cries swept over the yard, mixed with the flight of bullets that sounded like angry bees.

In the chaos that ensued, Jaras was knocked from his feet, the dust growing so thick he could hardly see. He regained his feet and called out for his escorts to return him to the pyramid, but they had abandoned him to join the battle.