Sooner Dead Page 8

  Even worse than the tentacle-things? Though Colleen wasn't smiling, Hella felt that in the woman's thoughts.

  Yeah. Even worse.

  I'm sorry. Truly I am. But I had to be certain that we could communicate this way. It doesn't always work.

  Hella took a deep breath and realized a headache was dawning at the base of her skull.

  I'm sorry about the pain. It's not any easier for me.

  That wasn't a consolation but Hella nodded.

  As you may have guessed. Dr. Pardot has insisted on "medicating" me. He says it's to keep me from losing control the way I did the other night, but really it's to keep me docile and helpless.

  Hella stopped in front of an aisle containing footwear. Some of the shoes and boots were manufactured things turned up by scavengers, but much of it was handmade. Only some ancient goods had stood the test of time, and not all of that was good out in the rough country.

  What do you want from me? Hella found it hard to think one conversation while having another.

  I don't know yet. I don't know what's going to happen, but whatever it is will be soon.

  The next ripple?

  Yes. I believe that's the one we're looking for.

  Are you looking for it too? Or is it just Pardot?

  Colleen hesitated. This ripple needs to be found, Hella. I need what it will bring into our world. So does Alice. My daughter needs it most.

  For a moment primal pain and a feeling of impending loss ricocheted through Hella's mind. She almost lost herself in the enormity of it. She was suddenly struck blind and dumb. She didn't know Colleen had released her until she found herself with her hands braced against the shoe display. Her stomach rolled and she thought she was going to be sick.

  "Are you okay?" One of the guards stepped forward and reached out.

  Hella brushed his hand away. "Don't touch me."

  Animal girl. His voice rang in her head, not her ears. Hella hoped that whatever espee powers Colleen had didn't turn on some latent ability inside her that she wouldn't be able to control. That happened sometimes. Genetic malfunctions lay in wait inside a lot of people, and eventually most of them got triggered at one time or another. The moon had an effect on several species.

  "Hella." Colleen leaned toward her but made no move to touch her.

  Hella flinched and drew back. "I'm all right" Her head pounded but the blindness receded.

  "I'm sorry."

  The guards closed in on Colleen. "We're going to take Dr. Trammell back out to the camp."

  Colleen tried to pull back from them but didn't have the strength. They gathered her easily and headed toward the door. One of them called in a report to Riley.

  Guilt kicked holes in Hella's stomach as she watched them walk the woman out of the building.

  "Hey, I know you don't like the room, but it's not a cage."

  Hella tossed her saddlebags onto one of the beds and gazed around at the four walls. The room was a lot larger than their tent, and she knew she should have felt thankful Stampede had chosen to spend the money to get it. At least the headache had passed.

  She ran her fingers through her hair and thought about the bath. That was the one good thing about staying in for the night. She could soak, scrub her hair with clean shampoo, and get totally dry before getting back into clothes. Not only that, but the clothes would be clean of trail dust and insects that lived on them because Stampede was also paying to have them laundered.

  "I'm not going to leave Daisy out there. As soon as I've showered and cleaned up, I'm going to take care of her."

  "You don't have to do that." Stampede dropped his gear on the floor with a loud thump.

  "She's my responsibility, and I'm not going to just—"

  "Faust has made room for her in the camp bay. She's going to be inside these walls, same as us. With those Sheldons running around out there, I don't want Daisy to be any less protected than we are."

  That surprised Hella. "Faust agreed?" The gorilloid wasn't a big fan of the mountain boomer even though Daisy tolerated him. Hella had sometimes wondered if adopting Daisy was one of the things that had split up the relationship between Stampede and Faust.

  "Yeah. I told him if he didn't let Daisy sleep inside the camp, you'd be out there sleeping with her."

  That was true.

  "With the Sheldons in the area, he didn't want you outside the walls." Stampede grinned. "He even cut me a deal on the room. As long as you agree to sleep inside."

  "I don't have to stay the whole night, right?"

  Stampede sighed. "Your choice, Red, but if I was you, I'd take advantage of a quiet night, the bath, and a chance to get a warm meal that's something other than whatever you just killed."

  "Daisy's not going to like being penned up any more than I do."

  "She'll be happy tonight. Faust also arranged for someone to haul all the butcher's remnants to that lizard's stall. She's going to be eating good tonight. She'll probably sink into a food coma and not wake up till morning."

  Hella looked out the window. From the height, she could see over the metal wall. Snipers manned the armored towers, and other camp guards strode the catwalks. "Have you ever been around anyone with espee abilities?"

  "Sure." Stampede started unpacking his bags. When things quieted down, he'd clean all his weapons. And he'd insist that she do the same with hers. Bottles of gun cleaner and oil sat on the small table in the room.

  "Somebody that could talk into your mind?"

  Stampede swiveled his full attention on her then. "Colleen?"

  "Yeah."

  "Maybe you should tell me how this happened."

  Hella opened the window and sat on the ledge, partly out of the room so the wind could reach her. In terse sentences, she told Stampede what had happened.

  Stampede rubbed his hairy chin when she finished. He frowned and his left ear twitched, a sure sign that he was uneasy. "Pardot doesn't know she can do this?"

  "She says no."

  "Pardot has a way of knowing things. She may think she has a way to talking to you—"

  "I think she's more interested in talking to us."

  Stampede grunted. "That may be but she's mistaken if she thinks I'll put her safety ahead of yours."

  "You're not responsible for my safety." Hella felt a little angry at that.

  "You saying if I was outgunned, you wouldn't help, Red?"

  "That's not what I'm saying."

  "Let me ask you this: If you had to choose between saving me and saving her, which way would it go?"

  "I'd save you." Hella answered without hesitation. "But I know that you can also save yourself."

  "Thanks for the vote of confidence. Let's say that we come to a fork in the trail. One way is safe and the other way is dangerous. Maybe I wouldn't survive. Would you let me go down that dangerous path if I wanted to?"

  "You'd have me. I wouldn't let you go alone."

  Stampede laughed. "And that would make all the difference."

  "It always has before."

  "Some days it just means both of you get killed. You've still got a lot to learn about the world, Red." Stampede was silent for a moment. "The thing I'm trying to get at is that we both have lost a little of our perspective here. You're looking out for the woman, never mind Riley floating around—"

  Hella started to object, but Stampede lifted a big hand and silenced her.

  "And I'm interested in Pardot's prize—whatever it is. Neither one of us is completely pure here. Our decision-making capabilities are compromised. Do you understand?"

  "I'm not an idiot."

  "This talk is as much for me to hear as you. I just want it said. That's all."

  "Okay."

  A ponderous knock sounded on the door. By the time Stampede had one of his pistols in his fist, Hella already had her right hand morphed and ready to fire.

  "Who is it?" Stampede stood to one side of the door.

  "Me." The voice belonged to Faust.

  When Stampede ope
ned the door, the gorilloid stood in the hallway.

  "Thought I'd come up and invite you to lunch, maybe wash some of the trail dust out of your throat."

  Hella relaxed her hand. "You two can go ahead. I want to take a bath and get cleaned up."

  "I figured that, imp, but I may need you to help keep Stampede in check. Trazall's downstairs trying to poach your expedition."

  CHAPTER 9

  Stampede's hooves clicked harshly against the wooden stairs as he went down. He opened first one revolver to check the loads then the other. Hella had to hurry to keep up.

  "You gotta go easy with this." Faust walked beside Hella and tried to calm Stampede. "I can't have you shooting up the place. Carnegie wouldn't like it, and anything he doesn't like, I'm supposed to deal with."

  "How many guys does Trazall have?" Stampede swung the pistol cylinder closed with a snap.

  "Counting Trazall? Eight. All of 'em mercenaries." Faust loosened his weapons in their holsters.

  "Anybody I know?" Stampede reached the first-floor landing and turned to plunge down the final length of stairs into the common room.

  "Silence is with him. So is Jack Hart."

  A chill ghosted through Hella when she heard the names. Both the men were hired guns and didn't mind stand-up fights.

  "Silence has got that fire thing going." Faust followed Stampede as he stepped onto the main floor and looked around. "You know about that, right?"

  "Ever since the brigand group burned his tongue out a couple years ago. Set off his mutation. They say sometimes stress will do that." Stampede swiveled his head and looked around the room.

  With dusk coming on and everyone in the area aware of the murderous Sheldons on the rampage, Blossom Heat had swelled with travelers. No one who could reach the camp had bedded down anywhere else. Most of them would sleep outside the walls, but they'd be under the sniper guns and within range of the defense sensors.

  "You've met Silence?" Faust pointed to the left. "Back of the room. Pardot commandeered a table for dinner. I guess he didn't invite you guys."

  "We're the hired help. Not exactly people Pardot would have asked to the table even if we hadn't gotten sideways with him on a couple things."

  "Glad to know you've got that worked out. Trazall's hitting your guy pretty hard. Silence is sitting at his right hand."

  Stampede cut across the floor. "I've crossed trails with Silence and that greedy roach before."

  Faust pulled a revolver and held it in his right hand behind his thigh so it was out of sight. "Jack Hart can play with gravity."

  "He's new to me, but I've been around people that could do that before." Stampede focused on the big table at the back. "Split wide, Red."

  Silently Hella went to Stampede's left, flanking his progress on the table. The move was a familiar one. They never stayed together when things started to turn dangerous. Separated, they both had to be considered, and they split an enemy's attention.

  "When this goes down, Faust, I need to know which way you're going to bounce."

  The gorilloid smiled and showed his huge fangs. "I covered your butt way too long to change that habit now. But if you break the peace in Blossom Heat, I'm gonna have to kick you out right after we deal with this."

  "Good thing I haven't unpacked all the way."

  "The imp's not gonna be happy. She didn't get her bath."

  Hella ignored most of the snappy patter. That was how Stampede and Faust were with each other. She could function around it, but she didn't join in. She knew how Stampede would handle the situation as well and that he'd go for the throat. No one poached one of their clients. A guide couldn't stay in business with a reputation as a pushover.

  Evidently people in the room sensed the presence of danger, or maybe it was because Stampede and Faust were big together. The crowd broke in front of the two like waves around a boat.

  Pardot sat at the back of the table. Riley sat immediately to his right. Another guard sat to Pardot's left. Colleen Trammell sat between two guards as well and had a heavy, drugged look in her eyes. She glanced at Stampede only briefly then looked around the room. Hella felt certain the woman was looking for her, but she wouldn't be seen until she was ready to be seen. She stopped behind a fat man strapped with weapons and peered at Trazall.

  Although the expedition guide looked exotic in current company, Hella knew he wasn't. Generations earlier, or maybe only a short time after the collider went boom, Trazall's species had been locusts or something like them. An event had happened—possibly due to the collider—and they'd become, or perhaps on their original world they'd always been, humanoid.

  Trazall's hard exoskeleton was moss green on his head and shoulders and darker green on his abdomen. The two bottom limbs of his six had thickened and gotten stronger, turning into his primary means of locomotion. His middle two limbs ended in grippers that could double as hands without the opposable thumbs, or they could be used as another set of feet if he was in a hurry or wanted to cling to a rough surface.

  The expressionless face gave nothing away, but there was a telltale flicker in the multifaceted eyes, and his antennae curled for just a moment. He wore clothing but there was no need because nothing about his naked body was immodest. Hella hadn't known he was a male of his species without being told. He chose tailored pants and a shirt, an obscene imitation of humanity because he looked so alien. But looking at him, no one would forget that he had human-level intelligence.

  When the table fell silent, and Pardot looked over Trazall's shoulder at Stampede, Trazall rolled his head around in a way a creature with vertebrae couldn't have.

  "Ah, Stampede." Trazall's voice had an irritating habit of buzzing on the consonants and created an undercurrent of noise in his speech. "We were just talking about you." He gestured to a chair, and one of his men quickly left it. "Perhaps you'd like to sit down."

  "I'll stand." Stampede remained loose and ready. "It's easier to squash a cockroach as it scurries away when you're standing."

  Trazall buzzed and Hella knew from past meetings that the insectoid was laughing. "Have I done anything to offend you?"

  "Depends on whether or not you've poached my client, roach. Actually, you've already offended me by trying."

  A small man seated to Trazall's right opened his mouth and breathed out a small jet of flame. He was of medium height, had a shaved head, and was covered in dragon tattoos.

  Trazall put his hand on the man's shoulder as if restraining him. "Be careful. You know how offended Silence gets if he feels my honor is being impugned."

  "Really?" Stampede's right leg trembled slightly, and a tremor ran through the floor as he manifested his seismic power. "How does he feel about earthquakes?"

  The man on Trazall's left smirked. He wore jeweled rings on all his fingers and plucked at a carefully trimmed goatee. His hair and the beard were tinted green. "How do you think you'd feel about suddenly weighing so much, your knees snap?"

  Stampede lifted his massive handgun in an eye blink and had it trained on the man's forehead. "Twitch funny, and you're going to be breathing out of your forehead." He turned his attention to Trazall. "Then I'm going to blow your head off, roach. Or maybe I'll blow your head off and let sunlight in through Greenie's skull."

  Trazall carefully put his four hands on the table. "Nobody moves until I say you can move." He spoke calmly and harshly.

  None of his crew moved even to acknowledge the command.

  "Are you backing him, Faust?" Trazall glanced at the gorilloid.

  "On this?" Faust nodded. "Yeah. One of the rules at Blossom Heat is that there's no theft. From anybody. And especially not from one of my friends."

  "This?" The insectoid almost sounded surprised. "This is nothing. Just a casual conversation."

  "He's lying." Colleen's voice cut through the tension in the room. "This—thing—"

  "Dear lady, you wound me."

  "—has been telling Dr. Pardot that he could guide us more safely than you can." Coll
een didn't sound entirely together, as if struggling to speak.

  Trazall shifted slightly in his chair, obviously knowing the statement wouldn't bode well for his immediate future.

  Stampede pointed his other pistol at the insectoid. "However this goes down, they're going to be burning your corpse, roach."

  Trazall made a show of looking around. "The two of you? Against eight of us?"

  "Seven of you. I pull the trigger, you're already off the board. And I'll take your gravity kinetic with me. And if, by some thin chance, you manage to survive, Hella will ventilate that ugly head of yours after she takes out Sparky."

  "Ah yes. The girl." Trazall glanced around. "I've heard of her, but I've never seen her. So where is she?"

  As graceful as a shadow, Hella slipped through the crowd and stood in front of the fat man so she could be seen. Her hands, pistol barrels, hung at her sides. The fat man at her side immediately vacated the area. The gunmen around Trazall shifted, trying to decide which way they needed to face. That was exactly the mindset Stampede wanted them in.

  "There she is." Trazall buzzed. "And look at those hands. I'd heard about that, but I've never seen anyone like her." Then he glanced back at Stampede. "If it helps, I didn't know these people were with you until Dr. Pardot informed me of that."

  "It doesn't."

  "Dr. Pardot said no." Colleen looked adamant and maybe a little relieved.

  "That's good, Dr. Pardot." Stampede spoke casually. "Because I'll bet the roach didn't give you his full sales pitch. He leads people through the Redblight, but when they're on their own and he knows what they're looking for, he hikes up the price of his services."

  "Only when things turn disastrous and I'm as fully invested as my client. When they can't get something on their own, I've discovered that most people will agree to an adjusted profit."

  Pardot grimaced. "You rob them, you mean."

  "Such harsh words from an obviously learned man. I am disappointed." Trazall looked back at Stampede. "Since my business here will obviously not bear fruit, I'd like to leave." He nodded at Stampede. "If you agree."