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  Time to check out if they needed help.

  WHILE JAK HAD TAKEN the side with only three riders, Ryan, Krysty and Doc had opted to take on Ethan, Riley and the four paying hunters. Ryan had a particular score to settle with the blond sec man, and although he was the consummate warrior, and would never allow his feelings to overcome his sense of strategy and combat, he would enjoy paying this debt, and wasn’t about to let it up lightly.

  From their recce, the one-eyed man knew that Riley and his two hunters were at the northern end of the copse, while Ethan had taken his riders to the south. He sent Krysty and Doc to deal with the Pleasantville baron and his charges. There was only one stipulation.

  “I don’t care if you chill those coldheart bastards with him, but I want Ethan alive. Blow the bastard’s arms off to stop him shooting if necessary, but he can’t buy the farm. We’ll need him if we’re to have any chance of getting J.B. and Mildred back. That’s why I want two of you to take them out. Try to separate him from the others.”

  Doc and Krysty nodded. In the heat of combat, it wouldn’t be an easy task to stick to, but both knew the importance of keeping the baron in the game. He was their ticket to their friends. As they left Ryan and set off for their target, they knew they would have to be more vigilant than ever in a combat situation.

  Ryan, on the other hand, had no such compunction. All he had to do was eliminate the threat that the three horsemen represented, and he was going to enjoy it.

  He was able to move swiftly through the forest and kept noise to a minimum, which was easy as the bracken was cushioned by the grasses and leaves beneath the trees.

  Ryan pulled up short of the border, keeping in deep cover about a hundred yards from where the three horsemen kept an agitated watch. He could hear them talking among themselves…talking when they should have been listening. That gave him an invaluable edge. As he carefully unslung the Steyr from his shoulder, opting for sharp-shooting from cover, he listened to them and was heartened by their unease and the level of dissent between them.

  “What the fuck are we doing hanging around here when we should be out for those assholes’ blood,” one of the riders complained.

  “Yeah, we’ve paid for some action and we should be seeing it,” the other said, emphasizing his point by jabbing a finger at the blond sec man.

  It amused Ryan to see the man’s obvious discomfort as he answered, “Look, guys, I know you’re the customer, and all that shit, but you don’t know what those woods are like. On foot, they’ve got the advantage.”

  “Then why don’t we go on foot?” the baron asked.

  Riley shrugged. “Dunno—I just do what Ethan says, okay?”

  Ryan allowed himself a grin entirely devoid of humor. The truth was that Ethan knew the companions would easily take out the hunters if it came to a battle on the ground. It was just that the sec man couldn’t admit this to the hunters for fear of offending them. The dictates of jack…It was darkly amusing.

  Ryan sighted on the baron first. The blond sec man was set apart from the baron and the trader, and the one-eyed man had opted to snipe those two first, leaving his preferred target until last.

  It was then that the one-shot blast of the Glock came from the far side of the copse.

  “What the fuck?” Riley yelled, jerking his horse in the direction of the sound.

  The reactions of the other two riders weren’t as sharp, to their fatal detriment. Ryan squeezed off the first shot from the Steyr almost synchronous to the distant sound of the Glock and it caught the baron full in the chest, throwing him backward off his mount, the shell piercing his thick clothing, skin and flesh as though it were nothing, severing muscle, tendon and blood vessels before hitting the breastbone and shattering it.

  Beside him, the trader was frozen in shock, slack-jawed as he watched his erstwhile companion fall backward to the ground. This inability to react to attack was to seal his fate. It took the one-eyed man less than a blink of his single eye to shift the Steyr the few inches to sight the trader. He was side-on, gawping at the falling baron, and he presented a slightly more difficult target to chill with one shot. If Ryan tried a body hit, then the man’s arm and shoulder would take the brunt of the blast, and so lessen the chances of a clean chill. So it had to be a head shot. But for that to work effectively, Ryan had to be quick, clean and accurate.

  As the sound of Horse firing at where he thought Jak was drifted over the copse, Ryan loosed a second shot from the Steyr. The trader stiffened as the shell penetrated the side of his head, taking him under the ear and by the cheekbone, drilling a neat hole that emerged on the other side as a wider, more ragged wound, the brain and bone in between having been pulped by the shell and its shock waves. He stiffened only momentarily before slumping down over the neck of his mount, falling sideways and underneath the suddenly frightened animal.

  “Shit! Fuck it!” Riley screamed, wheeling his panicking horse in a circle, trying to bring it under control as it responded to his nervous twitches with some confusion. He could hear the firefight from across the copse and could see the two men chilled in front of him, but he had no idea of where the fire had come from and was anxiously scanning the darkened woods, searching for a sign.

  Ryan allowed himself another grin. This was going to be more enjoyable than it should be. One shot from the Steyr took the horse out from under the sec man, and Riley hit the ground with a bone-jarring thud, just about managing to throw himself clear of the chilled horse. The last thing he needed was to be crushed or trapped beneath it.

  Riley came up with his Glock in his hands, scanning the forest and arcing the barrel of the blaster so that he could get a wide spray of fire if he had the slightest indication of any movement. The adrenaline was running through his veins and he suddenly felt alert.

  But not alert enough. As he stood there, Ryan picked one knee as a target and put a shell through it. Riley screamed as his leg gave way beneath him, and he tumbled forward, the Glock falling from fingers nerveless with the sudden agony that shot through him. Ryan broke cover and ran toward the sec man.

  Riley swore as he saw the one-eyed man trot into the open, the Steyr held across his chest as he jogged toward the prone sec man. He tried to reach for the Glock, but Ryan leveled the Steyr and put a shell through the blond sec man’s arm.

  Riley squealed, the pain from his arm and his leg almost too much to bear, the world coming to him through a red mist, his ears singing with the pulsing of his own nervous system. He looked up to see Ryan standing over him, but could do nothing except croak hoarsely.

  Ryan stood over the blond, the Steyr almost touching his temple. Ryan looked down and figured that it was a vendetta hardly worth pursuing now. It would be kinder to put the man out of his misery.

  One shot and Riley’s misted eyes clouded over for good. Revenge didn’t feel sweet, it felt nothing. Besides, there were more important matters to attend to. Ryan turned to see Jak headed out of the copse.

  “Okay?” the albino asked. At Ryan’s nod, Jak added, “Let’s get others.”

  KRYSTY AND DOC approached their targets with caution. Doc looked up at the rapidly lightening sky and wanted to say that they should hurry, but he kept a hold on his tongue, knowing that he should only speak when absolutely necessary.

  Ethan and his two hunters were clustered together, the Pleasantville baron in the middle—just where they didn’t want him. Krysty sidled up to the old man and whispered urgently, “I’ll get Ethan away from those two. You use your blaster and just take them out as soon as Ethan is clear.”

  “Whatever you say, dear lady…”

  He watched Krysty disappear into the shadows and checked the load on his LeMat. The shot and ball chambers were both loaded, ready for use. It was true that the antique blaster could, if the two riders were close enough, take them out with just the shot load. But how was Krysty going to lure Ethan away? He smiled to himself, he would just have to trust her ingenuity.

  Krysty would have been touch
ed if she had known of Doc’s faith in her abilities, for as she stealthily obtained a new position in the woods, away from Doc, her mind was racing, trying to come up with some way in which she could separate Ethan. She drew and checked her Smith & Wesson blaster, and racked her brain for some plan.

  Fate was to come to her aid. As she got into position, the first of the shots from the far side of the copse could be heard. Ethan was immediately alert and she heard him tell the two hunters to stay, but to be calm and triple-red, as he reined his horse and moved at a trot toward the north, where he had left Riley and two riders. The reports grew more frequent, and it was clear that a firefight was in progress on two fronts. Ethan pulled his blaster and turned to speak.

  Doc cut off his words before they had a chance to be spoken. With the two hunters isolated from the Pleasantville baron, Doc took his opportunity. He loosed the shot charge from the LeMat and the deadly hail of metal spread over the distance between himself and the two riders, cutting into the flesh of the horses and of the riders, a fine mist of blood spraying everywhere. The initial wounds weren’t fatal, but were more than enough to down the horses and their riders.

  Ethan was frozen with shock. His world seemed to be crumbling around him. Krysty was about to make it crumble a little further. She took aim and squeezed off a .38 slug that hit the baron high on the upper arm, making him drop the Glock. The shock was enough to make him tumble from his horse.

  To secure the advantage, Krysty had to leave cover. She ignored the downed riders to her right, trusting Doc to mop them up. Her concern now was that Ethan, hidden by his startled mount, would be able to regain his blaster before she could put him any further out of action.

  She ran toward the horse, keeping her blaster at waist level to squeeze off a low-angle shot if necessary.

  To one side, Doc also emerged from the woods. He loped toward the fallen hunters, LeMat in one hand, Toledo steel blade unsheathed and in his other hand. The two hunters were groaning softly, near to buying the farm from their wounds. In his mercy, Doc cut their throats with the blade.

  Meanwhile, Krysty approached Ethan, who was now visible where the horse had bolted, exposing him. He had struggled up into a sitting position and was trying to reach for his blaster, despite the bleeding wound in his shoulder.

  Keep him alive, Krysty thought as she brought up one silver-tipped cowboy boot to connect with his jaw. Unable to raise his wounded hand, his other too far away from his face in the short time he had, Ethan was an open target. There was a look of disbelief on his face as her foot connected, before the impact knocked all consciousness from him.

  As he lay on the ground, Krysty set to staunch the blood flow from his wound and binding his shoulder. She was still doing that when Doc indicated that he could see Ryan and Jak approaching with three horses, which they had rounded up on their way. Doc had also managed to secure Ethan’s startled mount and was calming it.

  The sun was beginning to blaze down on them as they loaded the semiconscious baron onto one of the horses, taking a mount each for themselves.

  “We’ve got our currency, now let’s see if we can bargain with the bastard,” Ryan commented tersely as he indicated they should ride for the ville.

  Looking up at the sun, Doc estimated that it would be around midmorning when they came in view of Pleasantville’s walls.

  Chapter Sixteen

  A shout went up from the walls as the companions came into view with Ethan draped over a horse, in front of Ryan, lying across the horse’s neck.

  “Triple-red, people,” Ryan whispered hoarsely, fatigue and lack of water now beginning to affect him, as it was the others. “They probably won’t like this.”

  The four companions pulled their blasters and were ready as the walls loomed larger. But the strangest thing was that up on the SMG emplacements, the people manning them were making no effort to take aim on the approaching riders.

  “By the Three Kennedys, this is most strange,” Doc muttered. “What can be occurring?”

  “Reckon we’re gonna have to keep going and find out when we get there, Doc,” Ryan replied, unable to keep the note of surprise from his voice.

  INSIDE PLEASANTVILLE, word spread like wildfire. The hunt was returning and it consisted of the four who had been the prey, with no sign of those who had paid or the sec men. But Ethan was there, disabled and as their prisoner.

  The whisper spurred on the rebels who were clustered around the armory and the sec camp. Under the direction of Stark and Eddie, in their respective positions, the attacks were mounted. From their position on the far wall, J.B. and Mildred could see the battle commence. There were some sec men who were, like Stark and Eddie, sympathetic to the sudden swell of rebellion. The two sec men had known who they were and had sought their help. Pinned in, and with warning, the sec in the armory and the sec camp had little chance of fighting back, despite their superior weaponry.

  The battle was swift and bloody, and seen from a distance seemed to be so simple. At each site, a pincer movement was put into operation, with a select few mounting a frontal attack, others taking the rear of each encampment, all covered by their lesser equipped compatriots, who had been carefully placed in cover.

  It was noticeable from this distance that there was little resistance to the rebellion. All the fighting was concentrated on the two encampments and it was swift and bloody. The forces within each were almost overwhelmed before they had a chance to fight back. The onslaught was swift and well executed, with the rebels firing at will to take out any targets that presented themselves and directing fire toward the weapons stores, both to detonate and to prevent the sec within from getting fresh supplies.

  Added to this was some dissent within the camps. At first, they were united in panic against the sudden attack, but that changed as they realized that it was their own people who were attacking. Some within weren’t willing to fight, and when their fellow sec men refused to lay down arms they turned upon one another.

  “Dark night, it’s a mess down there,” J.B. breathed as he and Mildred watched. It felt strange to be observing a firefight of such intensity—the kind of firefight they would normally be in the thick of—as though it were some kind of game. For a second it occurred to both Mildred and J.B. that this was what it had to be like for those who had paid to see their friends hunt one another. A sick feeling overwhelmed them both.

  “John, let’s get down there to see what we can do. I reckon we’re not going to be targets now,” Mildred said quietly, trying to keep the thoughts of those she assumed chilled from her mind.

  J.B. agreed, pausing before adding, “There’s going to be a lot of shit to sweep clean.”

  THE FOUR COMPANIONS were still a little suspicious as they rode into the ville through a gate that was opened for them. They could hear a firefight in the distance, but here the atmosphere was strangely, eerily calm as they were welcomed by a small group of people carrying blasters at ease.

  “You’ve got the baron, but what about the others?” asked one of the men who had been on the tower and had seen them approach.

  “Bought the farm, all of them,” Ryan said coldly. “And if you try anything, the same will happen to him.” He prodded the semiconscious baron, who moaned softly.

  “I reckon you could do anything to him and no one would give a shit,” said an old woman, stepping forward and spitting at the prone Ethan. “He’s told us what to do for too long. It’s all change now, and it’s thanks to you people.”

  “Us?” Krysty asked.

  “Sure,” the first man replied brightly. “You wouldn’t know, would you? How could you? Your man and woman are with us. Stark and Michaela brought them back from the ruined city and they plotted to set us free.”

  Ryan cut him short. “J.B. and Mildred are alive?”

  The man nodded. “Yeah. Dunno where they are right now, but word is everywhere that they’re in the ville and helped plan the revolution.”

  “Where are Stark and Michaela?” Ryan
snapped.

  The man shrugged. “Dunno. It’s chaos…but at least it’s free chaos.”

  The small group of people began to cheer and laugh, suddenly intoxicated with events and ignoring the four mounted companions. Ryan indicated to them to ride on and spurred his horse through the throng.

  “Where are we headed, lover?” Krysty asked.

  “To the action,” Ryan replied. “One way or another, I figure that’s where we’ll find J.B. and Mildred.”

  THE SEC COMPOUND was a mess. The air was filled with the smell of cordite and blood, and as J.B. and Mildred arrived, Stark and Michaela were standing in the middle of the devastation, speaking to the clustered fighters. There was an air of muted jubilation as exhaustion and the sudden realization of what had actually happened began to hit the people of Pleasantville.

  “Spread the word,” Michaela yelled over the crowd noise. “There’s a new way of doing things. We’ll have a meeting when this is cleared and everyone will get the chance to have a say on how the ville is run. We decide things by the majority from now on.”

  “No more oppressing others and using people. Fuck that, we’re all sick of it, right?” Stark bellowed. “For the next few days, until we get ourselves straight, me and Eddie will run the sec—and by that I mean that we’ll make sure cleanups are organized and patrols are mounted on the walls. Then we see how it goes from there. Michaela will return to the hospital, but she’ll head up meetings. She’s the smartest, calmest person I’ve ever met, and she’ll see us all right. This thing of everyone having a say is her idea, and it sounds good to me,” he added. He was about to speak again when he caught sight of the four riders as they were about to enter the compound. “Fuck! They’re alive!” Without another word, he left Michaela’s side and fought his way through the crowd to where the riders were being mobbed by the crowd. He reached Jak. The albino smiled and took the hand proffered by the bald man, which engulfed his own. “I knew you were the kind to make it back,” Stark said quietly.