Crossing Bedlam (18 page)

“The tea leaves are still in the bloody cup, Jude!” Katie shouts at the body. Hiking up her skirt to reveal polished boots, she leans over and continues yelling at the dead man. “I’ve told you time and again to use a strainer. Also, I know you put powdered milk and artificial sugar in my drink. That shite makes my stomach hurt and I can get a rash. Dammit, Jude, I didn’t want to have to kill you. Yet you insisted on being so stupid. Now, I’m yelling at your corpse in front of my guests. You just keep making things worse for yourself. Guess you’ll never learn how to improve. Ugh, his eyes are still open.” She draws her handgun and puts two bullets into his face instead of closing his eyelids. “Much better. Now we were discussing you two bringing me and my people medicine.”

“I want your babies,” Lloyd mutters low enough only for Cassidy to hear him. The blonde woman elbows him in the ribs and shakes her head, but he scoffs at the warning. “I like a woman who kills without hesitation and makes an entertaining show of it. I mean, it was just so random and surprising with the right amount of flair. Not to mention she has the sexist murderous sparkle in her eyes that I’ve seen outside of a mirror. There’s a vicious fire in her that I want to see more of. Reminds me of you, but not in a little sister kind of way. Oh, and don’t bring up Emily because that’s a different type of psycho. Specifically one that wanted to kill me.”

Cassidy leans closer to whisper, “Isn’t there a rule that you don’t put your dick in crazy?”

“It doesn’t count if the owner of said dick is insane as well.”

“That actually sounds like it would be worse.”

“Depends on which end of the knife you’re on.”

Katie returns to the table and accepts a cup of tea from a maid, the young woman nervously waiting to see if she can get out of the room alive. She breathes a sigh of relief when the warlord nods and waves her away. The three diners remain silent as the body is dragged out and a group of people in biohazard suits arrive to clean the mess. Within minutes, the room is spotless and two more cold beers have been placed on the table.

“I apologize for that outburst, but the man needed to be taught a lesson,” Katie states while taking off her hat and checking it for blood. Only her skirt has been marked with a few spots of gore, which she casually wipes away with a napkin. “Being a woman in charge of such a profitable territory means I have to remind people not to mess with me. Now every person who works in my operation will know what happens to those who continually cross me. Jude could have saved himself by improving his skills and being less of a twat. I’m sure you understand my plight, Cassidy. There’s a lot of people out there who think being a woman in the Shattered States means you’re easy prey. Between you and me, I actually prefer it that way since it means I’m underestimated.”

“I fully agree,” Lloyd answers, reaching out to take the warlord by the hand. Seeing her other hand move for a weapon, he diverts his grip to one of the beers and takes a long drink from the icy glass. “People should respect you for your actions and personality. I mean, so what if a strong woman gets into a relationship? That shouldn’t be seen as a weakness because humans are social creatures. You never hear people complaining that a strong male in a relationship loses his edge or is damaged as a character. Also, what about a lesbian couple? Do both of them become weak because of the relationship or only one of them?  Are male homosexual couples simply immune to this social perspective? In other words, I totally understand that you feel like you have to keep proving yourself. Just know that those who really love you will always see your true strength.”

“I don’t have a bloody clue what he’s talking about,” the confused warlord says, turning to Cassidy for an answer. Her face keeps switching from a scowl to a smile, the expression depending on if she is considering the odd speech a compliment or an insult. “There was never a relationship between me and that twat I put a few bullets into. Where did that idea even come from? Do you know what he means?”

“Lloyd has a crush on you and the voices in his head, which he calls the audience, are telling him that a relationship would weaken their interest in you,” Cassidy says as if she knows exactly what her friend is talking about. A pang of shame flickers over her face when she considers that she might be right and can easily decipher Lloyd’s ramblings. “As you can see, he’s not very good with women. Honestly, this is the most romantic I’ve seen him. Makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. Wait, that’s the beer, which I’m going to be mainlining if things get any sappier around here.”

“Awww. That’s so sweet,” Katie replies, touching the serial killer’s wrist. She smiles at the way he seems unsure of what to do next, the direction of their interaction obviously more in her hands. “You’re kind of cute, so we can see what happens. The two of us will have plenty of time together once you agree to join my organization. If you wish to remain freelancers and do this as a monthly favor then I’m satisfied with that too. After all, far be it for me to prevent others from finding their path. I think that makes sense.”

“We’re more than willing to be a medicine supplier for you, but I have an important job to do first,” Cassidy states as she moves to the edge of her chair. Expecting the other woman to draw a weapon, she is relieved to see that Lloyd is keeping Katie calm with a gentle palm massage. “Before you try to offer a better deal or threaten us, this is a personal journey. My mother wished for her ashes to be thrown off the Golden Gate Bridge, so I broke Lloyd out of prison as a bodyguard. At the time, it made more sense than paying people to help me and risking abandonment in the wilderness. Worse would be left alone in Nebraska, which I’m sure you understand. Anyway, I’d be more than happy to come back to help you. It’s just that I don’t want to make my mother wait.”

“Perfectly understandable,” Katie declares, twisting Lloyd’s thumb until he releases her hand. Clapping over her head, she is surprised that nobody comes to clear the table. “I’m sure you have need of supplies, so I can pay you for what you are willing to give right now. From the inventory that I was sent, I’d say some-”

The sound of gunfire erupts from outside and Katie curses while running to the nearest window. She can see people escaping into a fortified bomb shelter, none of those retreating having any experience with combat. Unable to see the fighting that is taking place near the front of the mansion, she angrily hurries out the door. Cassidy and Lloyd remain in their seats, neither one sure if they should be getting involved or not. With a shrug, they grab a few biscuits and sip at their beers while getting comfortable in their chairs.

“You two want to give me a bloody hand!?” Katie shouts from the hallway. The woman returns with her skirt removed to reveal black stockings, denim shorts, and an array of guns strapped to her legs and hips. “Move your arses to the roof and back me up. You can’t make a deal with a dead woman and there’s a good chance the Chicagoans will shoot you too. The person who kills the most enemies gets a special prize. Come on, yanks!”

“How do we keep getting involved in shit like this?” Cassidy asks as she draws her handgun and trudges after the warlord.

“I’m more confused about why she’s going to the roof when the fight is on the ground.”

“Probably an armory for us to get better equipped.”

“Do you really think a woman like her would have something so mundane?”

“What the else could be up there?”

******

“Are those fucking howitzers and a fucking mini-gun?” Cassidy asks as they step onto the front balcony. She stares at the three weapons with their barrels over the railing, several pedals and switches built into the ground between them. “That doesn’t seem like a smart idea. I mean, I know the howitzers are small enough to fit up here, but the force of the shots would destroy this place. This can’t be safe.”

“I had my engineers reinforce the building to accommodate my toys,” Katie answers, moving to the edge of the balcony. She flicks a switch on the underside of the railing and the gentle hum of a generator rolls from the floor. “They even made my command center usable by a single person. Pedals and buttons to reload as well as one to open up the refrigerator stashed in the floor. The mini-gun gets a little hot, which means the user can get thirsty. Reminds me that I should change into a real shirt instead of the dress top. Please take stock of our situation while I get into something more expendable. No peeking, Mr. Tenay.”

Lloyd salutes their temporary commander, noting that she leaves the reloaded shotgun sticking out of the curtain. With Cassidy practically drooling over the heavy artillery, the serial killer looks out over a parking lot and several long buildings. He can see the tops of trees from a park or forest beyond the open space, which is where most of the gunfire is coming from. Jeeps with mounted machineguns come into view for a brief moment, the vehicles swerving onto the road and then back out of sight. People in bulletproof vests and helmets are swarming toward Katie’s soldiers, the local fighters using cement-filled cars for cover. Several of the defenders duck into open manholes and use the tunnels to reach new positions, their sudden reappearance typically taking out one or two enemies before they have to hide again. Lloyd can see that one of the Chicagoan squads is about to break through to the edge of the mansion’s property. A mine goes off and sends the invaders flying, most of them never getting up or scrambling away on what few limbs they have left.

“Those greedy bastards keep trying to overthrow me,” Katie declares, returning in a sleeveless Union Jack shirt. She has a sheathed knife on the side of her bowler, which makes the hat lopsided on her head. “We used to have an alliance, but a new leader decided it would be more cost effective to kill me. Probably because he wants the plant and is angry that I keep sending raiders after his personal supply units. Not that I keep any of it. All I take from that bastard is given to the rebel factions in his territory. So now you can see that I’m the good guy in this, which means I’m well within my rights to blast away at the goons he keeps ordering to my doorstep. Unless these are from the gang union who I’ve been messing with lately out of boredom. Nope, those aren’t them. So I’m still the good guy.”

“I call dibs on the big toys,” Cassidy announces, putting on a pair of purple and black earmuffs. Reaching over her head, she pulls down a periscope that will help her aim the howitzers over the buildings. “Leave me out of your competition. These babies will make things too unfair. Looks like a squad is getting through your front door. Keep them off my ass while I handle everyone else.”

“You can’t call dibs on someone else’s weapons,” Katie argues before the blonde adjusts one of the howitzers and fires. The mortar sails over one of the warehouses and everyone can hear the explosion of a jeep. “Wow. You’re like some kind of firearms savant. Unless you’ve used one of these before.”

“I had a boyfriend who liked big weapons.”

“So he . . . you know.”

“We didn’t stay together long enough to find out.”

“Probably for the best. Guess it’s me versus you, Mr. Tenay.”

Having found a weapon locker, Lloyd swings a sharpened sword and checks a fully loaded nail gun that one of the engineers left on the balcony. Doing a few stretches, he joins Katie in the middle of the roof and blows a kiss to the warlord. She shakes her head at his gear while making sure all of her weapons are loaded and the safeties are off. When they hear someone on the other side of the locked door, Lloyd casually walks forward and jams his sword through the wood. A surprised gurgle and several screams erupt from the enemies followed by the sound of a short retreat down the stairs. Freeing the blade, the grinning killer nods his approval and shakes some of the blood onto the floor. The balcony shakes from the howitzer taking out another jeep before Cassidy moves to the mini-gun and fires into the approaching soldiers.

“I’m already ahead,” he mentions with a smirk. The gunshot from the warlord’s pistol makes his ears ring, the bullet passing through the hole in the door to take out another of their enemies. “So what prizes are on the line? I’d start listing stuff, but I doubt we have much time to be silly.”

“If you win, I’ll give you a kiss on the lips, my darling knight,” Katie says over the sound of a bulletproof shield rising behind Cassidy. The blonde is whooping and cheering, the joy of using such big weapons overriding the acknowledgement that she is killing people at the request of a warlord she just met. “Reminds me of my first time. Now I’ll give you a kiss on the cheek if I win, but you’ll also have to be my manservant for a day.”

“As long as both kisses involve tongue, I’m fine with whoever wins.”

“Then we have a deal.”

“Time to get our kill on.”

“Interesting catchphrase. I like it.”

Lloyd and Katie flank the door, moving far enough away to avoid getting hit by any shrapnel from the predictable breach. They are mildly amused that their enemies pick the lock and kick the flimsy barrier open. With an impish smile, Lloyd puts his sword in the way and slams the door back into the face of the first soldier who stumbles back through a few seconds later. Katie takes the man out with a shotgun blast to the throat, which sends his head flying back into the mansion. Nails are fired into legs as the Chicagoans rush onto the balcony, but they stop their advance at the unexpected sight of the heavy artillery. They are violently snapped out of their stupor by Lloyd beheading one of the soldiers and Katie unloading a clip into another enemy’s groin.

Armed with pistols and machineguns, the invaders expected to make short work of the two defenders. Instead, the viciousness of the gleeful psychopaths throws the barely trained men and women in disarray. Feet are impaled with nails and helmets are knocked off, which leaves the soldiers open to pointblank shots to the face and throat. More enemies run onto the balcony, many of them already wounded from racing through Cassidy’s barrage. The sounds of fighting on the lower floors mean those foolish enough to come upstairs are trapped and all they can do is push forward in the hopes of taking out their main target.