Crossing Bedlam (22 page)

“Where is the psychotic MILF anyway?”

“She was killed.”

“Bound to happen at some point.”

Ducking around Bart, Cassidy leaps at her ex-boyfriend and tries to stab him with the screwdriver. Lloyd manages to pull her back before he realizes what he is doing and turns her loose again. The guards are unsure if they should be getting involved, the fight clearly a former lovers’ quarrel instead of anything business related. They also feel like having to deal with Dick’s verbal abuse while following him across the bazaar means he has earned the imminent beating. Even after the tool is knocked out of Cassidy’s hand, she viciously punches and kicks the tall man. For his part, the bounty hunter refuses to hit her with a closed fist and settles for half-hearted smacks to the butt whenever he sees an opening. His anger finally flares when she delivers a kick to his groin and he counters with a straight punch to Cassidy’s jaw. Both of them go down and are about to crawl to their feet when a pair of loaded shotguns are pushed into their faces.

“A corpse in the tent will cost me business,” Bart calmly states, lifting the guns and waiting for his customers to move away from each other. Seeing Dick about to attack Cassidy’s back, the mechanic fires a shot into the ground at the other man’s feet. “She signed the contract, but you got here soon after. This does make it a sticky situation. Best to tread carefully and watch your mouth, Kopf, if you want to have a chance of regaining your spot. Keep in mind that getting killed would put an end to this debate as well.”

“Always so eloquent when you have something up your sleeve,” Dick says while wiping the grass from his shirt. He pauses when he sees how close Lloyd has gotten without the bounty hunter’s notice. “Seems I’m also outnumbered. You two are lucky that I don’t have my weapons and my plane needs a lot of repairs. Ran into a storm on the Kansas border and my bounty tried to leap out during the confusion. Idiot fell on a landmine, but he was a dead or alive contract. I had to stay in the air and use a trawling net to claim his head, which was a mess. Have I regained your interest, Cass?”

“Only if me wanting to projectile vomit on you counts,” the young woman responds while returning to the table. Claiming a bottle of vodka, she finishes half of the alcohol and tosses the rest to Lloyd who puts it next to a hippo clock. “What do I have to do to make sure I get the spot, Bart?”

“Just a little scavenger hunt,” the excited mechanic replies while approaching a sheet-covered table. He takes a tiny wood carving of a hippo family and gives it a kiss before waving his three guests to come closer. “All you have to do is find this in the bazaar and the spot is yours. Losing means you’ll have to wait, which means one of you stops making money and the other loses precious time. I’ll need some of my friends to help, but we all enjoy this game. Better to show you why than to tell you with simple words.”

Bart removes the sheet to reveal five remote controlled drones that are armed with long-range stun guns. They look identical, which will make it very hard to discern the one that is carrying the figurine without getting close. Grasping claws come out of the sides, curving down to avoid getting in the way of the rotors. As the guards go to get the other merchants who know how to work the complicated controls, Bart has one of the drones use its arms to manipulate a can of soda. It pours the drink into a glass without spilling a drop, which means the machines may be able to hand off the prize. Dick is the only one cocky enough to sneer at the mechanic, who makes a mental note to be extra cruel to the bounty hunter.

*****

“This would be easier if you let me sneak out there and kill him,” Lloyd mentions while they wait by the bazaar’s entrance. It is the first thing that has been said since they left Bart’s tent, the pair watching for the drones to appear in the sky. “I would say that I could sneak up and strangle him, but I didn’t see much of a neck on the asshole. Enough alleys around here for me to do it without getting caught too.”

“Don’t get involved, Lloyd,” Cassidy replies, a threatening edge to her voice. She rubs at the scar on her forehead, which she swears is itching from being so close to her ex-boyfriend. “If anyone is going to kill that fucking bastard, it’s going to be me. Only I’ll do it at a time when nobody will fault me. Just stay out of it and stop acting like I need your help. It isn’t like we’re really friends.”

“Glad you cleared that up for me,” the killer mutters, looking genuinely hurt by the declaration. Popping one of his mysterious pills, he finds that he is unable to shrug off her outburst. “Was starting to think otherwise. Guess I’m only a weapon, shield, or something expendable to you. Probably part ways after we reach San Francisco. Should have known it would end like that.”

The young woman comes out of her anger and kicks at a stone before attempting to apologize. “I’m sorry, but Dick is a sore subject. He used me and I blame him for taking away what little innocence I had left. Thought we were in love, especially when he took care of me after I earned this scar. Sniper took out our driver and I nearly got scalped in the crash. This mark actually goes around maybe half of my head. Anyway, my mom went to get a doctor while Dick stayed with me in the wilderness. There was an infection and a fever and I nearly died, but he kept me alive until mom came back. He became family at that point, which makes his betrayal unforgiveable. Now I wonder if he took care of me simply to get me into bed with him. Wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.”

“So are we friends or not?”

“Yes, but I’m not sure how that happened. No offense.”

“Probably started in New Jersey.”

“Really?”

“A strange bond forms when two people strip to their underwear and fight two rhinos with a fire extinguisher while avoiding an overprotective sniper.”

“We really have made a great team. Almost like it was fate or . . . Now I’m starting to think like you,” Cassidy says with a chuckle. The simple laugh helps her release the tension in her body, the surge of calm helping her think of a strategy to the game. “So, why did you look a little worried after Bart told you about his family?”

Lloyd scratches his head and lets out a long breath, his eyes darting from side to side. “An old habit from the days I was on the loose. Occasionally, I’d run into a person who talked about a murderer loved one. The conversation always got me wondering if I was the killer that they had an issue with. Kind of like that movie character’s line. The whacky pirate who doesn’t always know why he recognizes someone or they recognize him. I’d say the line, but if there’s any company that survived the collapse with its team of lawyers intact then I’d bet money on it being that one.”

“You do realize Bart’s family was shot and you don’t like guns,” Cassidy points out, hoping her statement erases any residual hurt feelings between them. The dumbstruck expression on her friend’s face tells her that he failed to make the connection. “We’ll see what happens after San Francisco, but I don’t know if I can make it a day without you giving me a headache. You’re like a weird combination of the older and . . . younger brother that I never had. That days a long ways off though and we have Nebraska to focus on.”

“Mind explaining that?”

“Tell me about the pills.”

“I swallow them and they taste like chalk.”

“Stalemate again,” the young woman says, rubbing her bare arms even though the summer heat is making her sweat. She licks her lips at the sight of the five drones rising above the bazaar and plunging back out of sight. “Dick probably hired someone to help. Bart doesn’t want us to kill, but we can cause pain. Think you can chase the drones while I take care of some personal business?”

Lloyd frowns at the prospect of being left out of the violence, but the hungry look in the blonde’s eyes causes him to smile. “Far be it for me to get in the way of a woman out for delicious revenge. Happy hunting, bosom buddy. Nah, I don’t like that nickname. The bosom part is too creepy. I figure something-”

Not wanting to waste time listening to Lloyd’s rambling, Cassidy sprints away and shoves unsuspecting people out of her path. A drone passes over her head, but she is too busy getting around a cart of onions to see if it has the figurine. The sight of a distant form chasing one of the machines causes her to duck into an alley and move to cut the other person off. As she gets closer, Cassidy realizes the figure is too short and curvy to be her ex-boyfriend. Guessing that it is Dick’s new partner, the young woman is tempted to take a few moments to impolitely introduce herself. A crash draws her attention to the other street where Lloyd is wrestling with a drone that he has snatched out of the air, the rotors coming close to hitting him. Not finding the figurine, the killer flips off the camera and lets it return to the sky.

Hearing a buzz behind her, Cassidy vaults over a table and the vendor is suddenly struck by a stun gun. The surprised man is sent convulsing to the ground, his legs knocking over his chair. The drone soars by, releasing the wires and clicking in a new cartridge. Coming in for a low circle, the machine is at chest height when it heads directly for Cassidy. She ducks the two prongs that fly out at her, the drone’s laser pointers helping her see where the projectiles are supposed to land. Leaping forward, she grabs the mechanical arms and flips herself upside down to hang from the ascending machine. A smirk is on her face when she rises high enough to get a limited view of the bazaar and spots Dick resting at his starting place. Five attractive women are doing the work for him, one of which has already been knocked out by a drone. Two more are with the bounty hunter, who is enjoying a beer and laughing at his own jokes.

Having competed in Bart’s contests before, Cassidy knows that Dick has disqualified himself by having a team that outnumbers the drones. She would be surprised by the mistake if she did not believe the man had the foresight and intelligence of a rusty corkscrew. With the contest no longer viable, she happily drops onto the roof of a tractor trailer and violently clotheslines the redhead who is attempting to get at the drone. After giving Dick’s companion a kick to the ribs for sure measure, Cassidy climbs to the ground and walks toward her waving ex-boyfriend. The busty brunettes he is with move to block her from the bounty hunter, the pair refusing to let the young woman hurt their man.

“This is Iowa and Kansas. Two of my favorites,” Dick says, stretching his arms over his head. He takes a seat at a nearby stall, slapping a can opener down to pay for a bologna sandwich and a fresh beer. “Girls, this was the one who refused to be my New York. Still haven’t filled the position yet. Please don’t hurt her on my account. Even though her mother put a bullet in me and she’s insulted me so much today.”

Cassidy glances from one woman to the other and puts on a pair of leather gloves before cracking her knuckles. “Iowa Slut. Kansas Slut. Now that I have some protection on, I’m going to fuck you two up. Then I’m neutering that poster boy for venereal disease you call a boyfriend.”

Since the two women are expecting a punch, the kick to Iowa’s groin strikes with full force and sends her crumpling to the ground. Skilled more in loving than fighting, Kansas feebly attempts a slap to the battle-hardened woman’s face. The sheer ridiculousness of the blow causes Cassidy to stop for a second, which gives the pair an opening to tackle her. She remains standing, the enemy on the ground having missed her left leg and the other only succeeding in a clumsy bear hug. Driven by desperation, Kansas tries for a headbutt only for Cassidy to do it first and knock several of the woman’s teeth out. Both of Dick’s lovers are grabbed by their hair and moved next to each other, allowing the mildly disappointed blonde to slam their heads together with an echoing clunk.

“You never did like having strong women around,” Cassidy says, letting Iowa and Kansas drop into what she hopes is not mud. The sound of a stun gun going off and a woman yelping comes from her right, followed by Lloyd shouting something about the Norse God, Thor. “So now that you disqualified yourself by outnumbering the drones, what are we going to do? After all, we still have a situation, which is that you’re not whimpering in the fetal position.”

“Never cared for that rule,” Dick replies, finishing his meal and hopping off the stool. He does some basic stretches and puts a few antacids in his mouth, the gurgling of his stomach making him cringe. “Honestly, I didn’t believe you or your little serial killer were smart enough to figure me out. I’ve always been a quick thinker though.”

“You were quick, but not in the thinking department.”

“Well maybe I wanted to get the horrible experience over with.”

“Least you didn’t have to look at that baboon ass you call a face.”

“My features are perfect.”

“For a piece of roadkill.”

Dick chuckles when he picks up on the young woman’s plan. “You want to goad me into throwing the first punch. That way it’s all about a big, strong man beating on a poor, defenseless woman. I’m not that stupid, Cass. So keep hurling your childish insults at me because they won’t make me mad.”

With her head hanging in defeat, Cassidy turns to walk away and slumps her shoulders at the sound of her ex-boyfriend’s laughing. Only those standing in front of the blonde can see the murderous intent in her eyes, which are focused on a nearby metal platter. The moment Dick takes a step toward his seat, she whirls around and rushes forward to punch him in the eye. A chorus of oohs and groans erupt from the vendors and customers, all of them feeling like Cassidy is well within her rights to beat the larger man into pulp. Nobody tries to stop her from battering Dick’s head against a table and kneeing him in the stomach. She is close enough to hear a telltale gurgle in her ex’s throat, so she delivers several blows to his gut. The bounty hunter falls to his knees and vomits, his head swimming from the vicious attack.