Robinson Crusoe 2245: (Book 2) (20 page)

“Impressive,” Robinson said.

“Yes, it is,” Boss said. “I see you got your rig.”

Robinson ran his hands over his smooth leather belt.

“He did a fine job.”

“Looks like something’s missing, though.”

Boss signaled a Big Hat, who handed over a wrapped package.

Robinson was smiling before he opened it.

“I was hoping I’d see this again,” he said as his axe came into view. Then he slipped it perfectly into its gap-mouthed loop on his belt.

“What’s that thing there?” Mox asked. “On the heel of your gun?”

On the butt of the automatic pistol was a shiny piece of plastic with black material beneath.

“I layered a piece of silicon behind plastic and metal. When the sun hits it, this acts as a conductor, which creates an electric field.”

“Who in the hell’d want electricity on a gun?” Mox scoffed.

Robinson pulled the pistol and pointed it toward Mox. He fingered a switch, and a red laser sighting appeared over Mox’s heart.

“You were saying?” Robinson asked.

Boss and the Big Hats laughed, but Mox was broiling.

“When we get back here,” Boss said, “you’ll have to make a few of those for me.”

“I’m sure we can come to some kind of arrangement,” Robinson said.

Boss and Mr. Dandy rode up with Clawfoot in the cab. Robinson and the Big Hats rode in the first car. As the train got underway, they slid the door closed. Robinson turned to find Mox standing behind him.

“Been waiting to get you in a room alone,” Mox said.

“I guess Wellie was right about you. Suppose that’s why she charges you double.”

Mox lurched for him, howling.

Some hours later, the train stopped so they could clear a fallen tree from the tracks. Boss got her first look at Mox, beaten and bloody, and Robinson, who didn’t have a scratch on him.

“What happened to him?” she asked.

“He fell,” Robinson said.

Boss smirked. She took a piece of paper from her vest and handed it to Robinson. He unfolded it.

“This is a map of the Flayers’ village. This enclosure is where they keep the prisoners. But if you’re right about your girl being special to this …”

Snap, snap
.

“Arga’Zul,” Robinson said.

“Then he’s probably keeping her in the pyramid. That’s where Baras’Oot and most of his big shots live. I don’t know how long it’ll take us to unload the gunpowder and take possession of the provisions, but I’d estimate you got an hour, hour-and-a-half to get your business done. If you can make it back without being seen, we’ll smuggle you both out. If you can’t …”

“I’m on my own,” he said.

Boss nodded.

“What are you getting in return?” Robinson asked.

Boss looked over his shoulder to make sure the Big Hats weren’t listening.

“Food,” she said. “Merchants are growing scarce on the river. Everyone sells to the Flayers. But I got to do what I can to keep my town running. Plus, Baras’Oot says he might be open to us working transportation.”

“You trust him?”

“I don’t trust no one, Kid. You know that. But so far, he’s kept the ledger clean.”

Robinson nodded toward the gunpowder.

“With this, he could wipe you out.”

“He doesn’t need gunpowder to do that. But then he’d be out of a manufacturer. Better this way for both of us.”

“Then why so many guns?” Robinson asked.

“A gal likes to cover her bets,” she said.

They both smiled and turned to look out at the passing forest.

“They say it’s going to be a cold winter. If you find your girl—when you find her—you can always come back. Cowboytown can use a man who knows how to lead.”

“I appreciate the offer and the help,” he said.

“It’s not help,” Boss said. “We made a deal. Once you step off this train, the ledger’s even. If you get caught or don’t make it back before the whistle blows, you’re on your own.”

“I understand,” Robinson said.

They watched the sun dip behind the mountain, painting the valley in fuchsias and gold. It was quite a sight, but they both knew the real show was only about to begin.

Arga’Zul walked the parade grounds ordering his men into position. The bazaar was already teeming with merchants and traders from all over the south. Business was prosperous, but only one transaction would make this night a success.

When the whistle sounded and the train’s single eye appeared through the trees, Arga’Zul knew his time had come.

The crowd of the bazaar ‘oohed and aahed’ as the giant train slowed. The shuddering engine shook the ground, and more than a few people shrieked when the brakes erupted in sparks as it screamed to a halt.

A door at the rear of the engine opened, and a wave of Big Hats flooded out, rifles in hand. They took up position atop the train and on the ground.

Boss appeared, looking otherworldly with her white outfit and silver guns.

She looked out over the fray and was overwhelmed by the number of Bone Flayer warriors standing in formation.

Arga’Zul approached, and Boss put on her bravest front.

“Arga’Zul, Mighty Chieftain of the Bone Flayer Army,” Boss said. “Thank you for welcoming me to your home.”

“Your train impresses me,” he said. “It is almost as intimidating as one of my ships.”

“But not half as fast,” Boss said graciously.

“I need wind and you need rails. We both have our disadvantages.”

“And yet here we are. Partners and stronger for it.”

Arga’Zul smiled thinly.

“You have brought the gunpowder?” he asked.

Boss turned and whistled. The first car door slid open, and one of the Big Hats grabbed a single bag of gunpowder and delivered it to Arga’Zul.

He drew a long, curved blade and cut through the burlap bag, retracting a blade tipped with powder. One of his Flayers stepped up with a torch and set it to the blade. A flash of smoke and light drew cheers from the crowd.

Arga’Zul nodded, and Boss signaled Mr. Dandy, who whistled. The remaining car doors opened and the offloading began.

Robinson slipped down and began helping stack the gunpowder bags on carts provided by the Flayers. He waited for an opening before slipping off into the crowd.

As Robinson worked his way through the glut of people, he saw all manner of things, from strange livestock to the frames of dismantled war machines. Then, the great pyramid came into view. He was both awed by it and demoralized by the legion of Flayers standing guard around it.

From a small window in the pyramid, Friday watched the Flayer army move out to meet the train. She knew the two guards posted outside her door had been warned not to underestimate her size or skill, so escape would be difficult. She realized she needed an accomplice. It came when the old woman returned to the room. Friday waited for the door to close before pulling her close.

“Grandmother, I must ask a favor of you.”

The old woman stared at her with weary eyes.

“It is time, then?” she asked.

Friday nodded.

“I must escape while the Flayers are distracted. It is my only chance.”

“Many have tried,” the old woman said. “Most have failed. Are you willing to give your life for your freedom?”

Friday assured her she was.

“It may mean my life too,” the old woman said.

“I do not take such a thing lightly. But women like us, we are not meant to be caged. We were born of trees and wind. We should die among them, or at least within their sight.”

The old woman took a heavy breath and nodded.

“Tell me what you would have me do.”

Outside, Robinson circled the pyramid, finding his best chance at ingress was a small door near the back of the structure, protected by only two guards. He worked his way back behind a cement barrier and drew his axe, scraping its toe across the ground. The sound echoed in the darkness. After a moment, one of the guards made his way toward him.

Robinson drifted into the shadows and waited for the man’s approach. His companion called out and was answered with an impatient wave. Slowly, the guard appeared and scouted the area before turning back. Only then did Robinson make his move.

He cleared the distance in a few steps, striking the guard across the back of the head with his axe. Unfortunately, his spear clattered to the ground, prompting the second guard to call out again.

Rather than pull back, Robinson charged, hurling his axe at the surprised Flayer before he could act. His aim was true. The man died before he hit the ground.

After dragging both bodies into the bushes, Robinson entered the pyramid.

For Friday, the waiting was interminable, but eventually, she heard the old woman return and offer her guards something from a tray of liquor she claimed was from the fête. Friday listened as the liquid was poured and the men laughed. Then she heard the sounds of retching and one man falling.

Friday threw the door open to see the second guard with his hand around the old woman’s neck. She scooped up his claymore and hacked his arm off. An arterial spray splashed over the walls as the man screamed, but Friday silenced him quickly.

Friday knelt in front of the old woman.

“Can you breathe?” she asked. The woman nodded. “Then go inside. Tell them I did this to you. Understand?”

The woman nodded again. Friday was heading down the hall when the old woman called out. “Child? When you hear the wind through the trees, think of me.”

“I will,” Friday promised.

Robinson slipped into the large corridor that circled the inner pyramid. Candles were lit at various intervals, but they gave off little real illumination.

Several times, he huddled in the shadows as guards or the Flayer elite passed by. Many were on their way outside to join the fête. No one had been alerted to his presence yet.

Three men suddenly emerged from a door inside the ring. Two were clearly Flayers, but the sight of the third stunned Robinson. He wore the mark of the Aserra, and yet he walked without shackles.

Two floors above, Friday was changing into the clothes of one of her victims. She wrapped a necklace of bones around her neck and tucked a dagger into her waistband. She saw the door leading to the stairs, but she had one stop to make first.

Vardan Saah was sitting on his bed scouring over a set of papers when he heard a knock at the door.

“Come,” he said in the pidgin language of this land. It felt dirty rolling off his tongue. He couldn’t wait to be done with it and these people and leave them all to rot, as they should have long ago.

A small figure entered carrying a tray.

“Food and water, m’lord,” a soft voice said.

“There,” he said, pointing to a table without looking up.

The figure set the tray down. It took Saah a moment to realize the person hadn’t left.

“Well?” he said. “What else—”

The first thing he noticed were the drops of blood spattered on the hem of her vest. The second was the jagged piece of metal clenched in her fist.

“What do you want?” Saah said.

“The key around your neck,” Friday answered calmly.

He sat, shocked that the savage girl was in his room.

“You won’t be able to fly it,” he said.

Her grip on the sword flexed.

Saah quickly pulled the cord with the flier’s key over his head and held it out.

“Jaras told me you believe young Ser Crusoe is coming for you,” Saah said. “I’m sorry to say the world doesn’t work that way. There are no storybook endings anymore.”

Friday tucked the key into the vest before her eyes were drawn to the papers strewn across the bed.

“What are those?” she asked.

“Relics. Once the beginning of the end, now the end of my beginning.”

“If it’s the end you seek,” Friday said, “why wait?”

Friday reared back with her weapon when the doors flew open and four Flayers ran into the room. She clubbed Saah across the head before turning back to face her opponents. They were well conditioned, better rested and fed, and confident in their numbers. The odds were not in Friday’s favor. But the Aserra never cared for odds.

She did as she always did.

She charged.

Robinson waited until the moment the guards passed by to spring from the shadows, clubbing the first guard to the ground before spilling the guts of the second.

The Aserra slave scrambled back across the floor, but Robinson held up his hands.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “I’m looking for a girl. Aserra. Brought here by Arga’Zul.”

“It’s you,” Valud said in disbelief. His eyes darted around. “She said you would come, but … I know where you can find her. Follow me.”

He rose and led Robinson toward the inner doors. Robinson stopped, hesitant.

“Quickly,” Valud said. “She’s just inside.”

Valud opened the central door and waved Robinson forward. As he approached the door, Valud reached for the dagger he kept in the narrow of his back.

Robinson got a glimpse of the palace room before he sensed Valud’s movement. He wheeled back at the last moment, but the dagger still opened a gash across his shoulder.