Richard Harding - Outrider 1, Premier Volume Page 12

  "They knew you were coming, Bonner," said Sister Kay.

  Bonner shrugged. "So, we've taken down their best."

  "And won," said Clara smiling broadly, "with help from the Sisters."

  Bonner stole two tires off Marxie's C-J to replace the ones that had been shredded in the fire-fight. Starling decided to finally trade in his old rig for one of the fine Harleys that the Radleps wouldn't be needing anymore. The Mean Brothers preferred to ride with Cooker-an axe and a shovel were about as complicated as they wanted to get.

  By dawn they were on the road. By noon they were lying low just on the outskirts of Washington. "We split up," Bonner said, "see what we can find out. We meet back here tonight."

  The crew nodded. "Hey, what do we do with the Means?" asked Harvey.

  "What we gonna do with you, more like it?" said Starling. "You can't shoot so good and we haven't gotten you anything to blow up."

  "Yeah," said Harvey, "what are you going to do about that?"

  "Hit the bazaar," said Bonner. "You go in, Harvey, and see what you need. Get it if you can. If not, and you see one of us, let us know and we'll try and get it." "Some fucking plan," said Clara. "How do you plan not being recognized?" "Luck," said Bonner.. "Is there a curfew?" asked Sister Jamie. "There's gotta be..."

  "So be off the streets by nightfall. Back here by then. Got it?" Bonner looked from face to face. "No acting on your own..."

  As soon as each of them hit the streets they began disobeying Bonner's rules. Harvey began shoplifting his way through the bazaar. He managed to get some black powder and some blasting caps as well as some plastic that looked as if it was about a hundred years old. He was a blatant thief but no one was looking at him. The Mean Brothers that trailed behind him attracted the gaze of the crowd. When they reached the slave auction block he briefly considered putting them up for sale-he would have if he could have thought of a way of letting the brothers know that he wasn't doing it for real, that he would auction them, then they could make their escape once they had suckered someone into paying for them.

  Cooker headed straight for the domed ruin and stood in front of it as an acolyte before a shrine. Here was stored all the gas in the Slavestates. Inside those ruined marble halls were acres and acres of gasoline.

  "Hi Test," he whispered, "premium, regular..." He said the words as if they were part of a prayer.

  A couple of Stormers on duty in front of the building walked up to him suspiciously. "What are you staring at, shrimp." "Nothing," said Cooker.

  The Stonner pushed him roughly. "Then beat it..."

  "Didn't mean no harm," mumbled Cooker. He looked over his shoulder at the building. He was planning on returning and blowing the whole thing up. Cooker didn't give a damn about this women that seemed to get everyone so het up. Cooker only cared about gas-his gas. If he blew the entire Slavestate supply Cooker's own gas would be worth more than ever. He would get to be a big man, he would have power, money... Hell, he might even hire Bonner to do his fighting for him.

  Bonner was most flagrant in the disregarding of his own rules. He looked at the huge ruins that surrounded the torch and decided that he would never find her by just wandering around looking for a likely Stormer that he could force to tell him Dara's whereabouts. The fact that she was somewhere in the city, needing him, in danger, burned through him. Every Stormer, Radlep, tax-general, that passed him never knew how close they came to death. Bonner could feel the emotion he had fought for a thousand miles pumping through him: anger. He could feel blind fury seizing him, taking hold of his brain, making him let go of the cool and dispassionate calm that had kept him alive for so long. He walked the crowded streets in a haze of hate. It was then that he found himself standing in front of the Big House. He looked at the two bored Radleps that lounged in front and at the cluster of favor seekers crowding around the entrance.

  Take him now, Bonner thought. It looked so easy. Bonner sidled passed the scarred Radleps. They just glanced up and let him pass. They assumed he was some kind of Stormer. The wide halls of the Big House were jammed with the usual hangers-on, each so involved in his own interest that they never even noticed Bonner pass. He strode down the hall, looking as if he knew where he was going, all the while not quite able to believe that he was actually there, that he was only feet from Leather. A voice in his brain told him he was being stupid, that he was making a mistake, that he was letting his feelings guide his hand. Come back when you have a plan, when you know what you're doing-Bonner, don't be a fool...

  But he kept walking. He was going to settle this thing now. And forever.

  The outer offices, the ones that adjoined Leather's lair, were a little less crowded and there Bonner was noticed.

  "You can't go in there," said a tax-general. Bonner pushed him aside as if he was a troublesome child. Bonner crashed through the next door;

  the Radlep on duty in front of the door leading to Leather's office jumped to his feet. He never saw Bonner go for his knives, but he felt the hot pain of the blade as it slid into his chest. He fell silently, staring dumbly at the handle of the knife as it quivered slightly in his breast. Winchester in hand, Bonner threw open the door that separated him from his prey. Bonner hardly saw the Radlep that sat by the fireplace and it was in an almost offhand way that he launched the second knife. As the Radlep died, Bonner levelled the Winchester at the man behind the desk.

  "Hello, Leatherman," said Bonner quietly.

  Leather sat back in his chair, as if stretching before starting some sort of strenuous exercise. "Well, my old buddy Bonner. Have you any idea how much it cost to feed, train and equip the Radlep you just knocked off?"

  "Where's Dara?"

  "Dara." Leather chewed the word. "Dara. That bitch." Leather's already ugly features twisted unpleasantly and he absently touched the angry pink scar on his cheek. "I wanted her to die. I'da killed her long ago until I realized that she was the only thing that would bring you running. Come to rescue her, right? Still the knight in white armor? Now I can kill you both. Slowly."

  "Shining armor," said Bonner.

  "Whatever."

  Bonner spoke through clenched teeth. "Where is she?"

  Leather rocked in his chair. "She's safe. I got my people taking care of her. I got a lot of my people taking care of her..." Leather laughed deeply, as if enjoying a private joke. "You see, I put your precious Dara into the Radlep harem. I thought she ought to earn her keep and get my boys hot until..." A dark cloud of suffocating hate swept over Bonner. Without thinking he yanked the pump and both barrels of the Winchester laced the leather back of the chair where Leather sat. But Leather was gone. In that single moment. Leather had thrown himself sideways, missing Bonner's fire by a hair.

  He rolled on the floor screaming. "Help! Help me!"

  The door crashed open and Bonner was jumped by half a dozen Radleps. He snatched Leather's Ruger Redhawk from the desk and pumped three bullets into the wailing Leatherman. The weight of the Radleps brought him down.

  Suddenly, the animal in Bonner seized hold of him. With the strength of a half dozen men he kicked and punched and scratched at his attackers. He struck out blindly, feeling the pure pleasure of the beast when his fist connected with the tortured flesh of another human being. He felt skin tear and bone splinter under his blows and deep within him his crazed mind savored the gnawing pain he was causing-this time he didn't want the killing to stop. This time he wanted to start killing and go on killing until they were all dead.

  His fingers, as strong as taut steel cables, closed over the neck of a Radlep and he could feel the bone and muscle of the throat collapsing under his grasp. The Radlep's hideous face was inches from Bonner's own and he could smell the stink of the man's breath. Blood started from the Radlep's eyes and Bonner knew that he had squeezed the life from this terrible creature. He was absorbing blows now, a dozen fists were slamming into Bonner's body, but still he fought. He was aflame with hate. He had to kill. He had to kill all of them. Men were screamin
g.

  Bonner heard Leather's voice, as if from far away:

  "I want him alive. Take the fucker alive! Alive!"

  A heavy boot pounded into Bonner's temple and suddenly all was darkness and silence.

  Chapter 18

  "So where is he?" asked Cooker testily, " 'cause if he ain't coming, I'm out of here."

  "He's coming," said Starling confidently. He spoke with an assurance he did not feel.

  "Well he better," said Cooker. On the edge of a cool breeze he was sure he could smell the tantalizing whiff of gasoline from the vast dump in the Cap.

  "Sure would be a shame if he didn't," said Harvey. In a pool of light thrown by the fire he worked diligently at assembling some nasty little bombs out of the ingredients he had snatched that day.

  "Why would it be a shame?"

  "Because I want to see if these little babies work." He had packed black powder and blasting caps into heavy glass bottles. He had found a clearing strewn with the containers and he was making the most of the materials at hand. Harvey sniffed deeply at the neck of an empty bottle. A faint scent lingered there.

  "Hey, Starling," Harvey asked, "can you read?" "Yeah."

  "Read me what is written here." He passed him the bottle and Starling squinted at the faded label.

  "Martell Cognac," he read slowly, "fondee 1715."

  "Well, Martell Cog-nac smells like a fine drink to me..."

  "1715. Jeez," said Starling, "how long ago do you s'pose that was?"

  "A while back," said Clara vaguely.

  "What's this one say?" demanded Harvey.

  Starling held it close to the fire. "Leroux Blackberry Brandy."

  "Smells good too."

  "So what are we going to do?" said Sister Jamie suddenly.

  "Yeah, are we going to sit here all night?" Sister Lynn surveyed the group.

  "I think Bonner's got himself caught and that means he got himself killed," said Sister Kay matter-of-factly.

  "Do you really think he's dead?" asked Sister Brenda.

  "If he's caught, he's dead."

  "Leather can't kill Bonner," said Starling vehemently.

  Abruptly, the two Mean Brothers who had been following the conversation, got up, shouldered their weapons and headed into the darkness.

  "Where the fuck are they going?" demanded Cooker. "I think they're going to get Bonner," said Jamie, "and I think we should tag along."

  "Yeah," said Clara, "Sisters, let's move it."

  "Starting," said Cooker, "you and Harvey going?"

  "Yep."

  "You assholes," said Cooker, "he's dead already."

  "If he's dead, I have a score to settle with Leather," Starling's voice floated back from the dark. There was a note of determination in Starling's voice. The tall smuggler meant what he said.

  "Well," said Cooker standing up, "I come this far..."

  Bonner blinked his eyes to clear his head and immediately wished they had not taken him alive. His hands were bound firmly behind his back and a Stormer stood on either side of him. He looked around the room.

  It was a vision out of hell. He was standing in a huge marble room, fronted by columns that looked out onto a huge rectangular pool of water that dimly reflected the the flames of Leather's eternal flame. The room itself was lit by a dozen burning braziers that threw off a smoky light etching long dark shadows on the smooth walls. The room was filled with the first citizens of the Slavestates: all the tax-generals, the ranking Radleps and Stormers, the torture squad, and all had brought a dozen hangers-on. Jojo stood to one side. Every eye was on Leather. He sat in his throne which dominated the room. The throne was a huge statue of a man, seated in an enormous marble chair and it took up the central part of the chamber. Reclining on a dozen cushions in the marble man's lap, lay Leather. Three members of his harem, young women, naked to the waist, sat on either side of him ready to cater to his every need. Leather stretched luxuriously and beamed down at his court. Above him, in the shadows, the sage face of the great marble statesman looked down sadly, as if the evil and depravity he was forced to witness was an affront to his wise stone eyes.

  "Well, Bonner," said Leather, "you're going out in style." Leather's deep voice boomed through the great space.

  "I shot you," said Bonner. "Bullets don't kill the Leatherman," shouted a courtier.

  "You know, Bonner," said Leather, "he's right." "You're flesh and blood," said Bonner. "Maybe... maybe... But those wise old ancestors of ours came up with some pretty fantastic inventions."

  Bulletproof vest, thought Bonner. He had heard of them, but he had never seen one. He doubted that they existed-until now. It contravened the rules of nature, the rules by which the world now lived:

  nothing was bulletproof. It was just like Leather to get hold of one and then exploit the cult of his own immortality.

  "You been causing a lot of trouble, Bonner. I heard about Drexy. I heard about New York, the island... You are a pain in the ass... Now I hear that Marxie and fifty Radleps are missing. Did you have anything to do with that?"

  "Marxie'sdead."

  "Oh, you're going to wish you hadn't said that," said Leather as if he was scolding a little child. "My Radleps are going to put on a bigger show than even they planned, right, boys?"

  From around the hall, the rasping coarse voices of the Radleps were raised in a chorus of menacing assent.

  "Who you travelling with, Bonner? And where are they? Sure you're pretty good, but not even you could mess with Marxie and fifty of my boys and get away with it. Who is crewing with you?"

  "You don't really think I'm going to tell you, do you?"

  "Not right away, no. But we'll get it out of you." Leather clapped his hands and a woman came forward carrying with her Bonner's Winchester and the holster with his three blades. Leather examined them expertly.

  "Nice stuff. They'll look good in my collection... How many men you figure you've killed with these things, Bonner."

  "Not enough."

  "Whoa, that's pretty tough talk. Scares the shit out of me." Leather laughed and the courtiers laughed with him. "You know, in a few minutes when I start to kill you-start, I said-because the finish is quite a ways off-I'm going to do it with these." He held up Bonner's equipment. "We're going to carve you up a little, then I'm going to blow your fucking head off. Then it's game over, I win."

  Bonner wasn't afraid to die. But he was damned if he was going to die at Leather's hands. He would rather be brought down by the lowliest street worker back in Chicago than go out in a grand and painful ceremony in the center of Leather's throne room.

  "So, you're the big, tough president of the Slave-states. The meanest, baddest man on the whole continent," sneered Bonner. "Sure, it's real easy for you to kill here and now with all your pieces of shit body guards around. Big brave man. Come on, Leather, how about a fair fight? You and me. No Radleps, no Stormers, no bulletproof vests... just the two of us..."

  Leather laughed. The courtiers laughed. "That was always the trouble with you, Bonner. You're stuck in the old world. Or what you thought was the old world. A fair fight... 'Fair and square' I think they used to say. That world is gone and if you had realized it-you and that cunt of yours-you wouldn't be here now. You were dead in the Outriding days, Bonner. You wanted to build the old world. What you never knew was that the old world never existed. Sure, they had rules and codes and regulations-laws. But those people were the same ones who bombed the shit out of each other. But you couldn't see that, could you, Bonner? No, I'm not going to give you a fair fight, Bonner, because there's no such thing, a fair fight is the one you win and it doesn't matter how you do it. Winners and losers, that's what it conies down to. I'm the winner, you're the loser..."

  Leather looked at Bonner. "They can understand this-" he gestured toward the crowd "-how come you can't? Bonner, you and me could have had the whole continent. There would be no Hotstates, no Snowstates... All of it could have been ours. But you had to... I don't know, fuck it up, I guess. Now
you've got to die. But first, a little entertainment." He clapped his hands.

  Two Radleps entered the chamber dragging Dara between them. She was limp, her long dark hair falling down in front of her face. She was clad only in a light shift, that rode up to mid thigh as the Radleps pulled her to the center of the chamber. As she was brought in the crowd started hooting and whistling, their catcalls filling the air.

  Bonner felt every muscle strain at his bonds. His eyes blazed with hate, his stomach churned as if he had been kicked.

  "Show her," ordered Leather.

  The Radleps dragged Dara before Bonner. Her chin rested on her chest, so one of her captors yanked on her hair, snapping her head back. Her eyes were closed so the Radlep slapped her, tearing the delicate skin of her lip. Her eyelids fluttered open. For a second she didn't recognize him. Then their eyes locked together and Bonner could feel her gaze on him. She stared, her blue eyes filled with pain, with fear and with hope... "Save me," she whispered, as the Radleps pulled