Grit and Grace: A Metal and Men Novella (Metal and Men Series Book 1) (5 page)

"Can't do that, Hetty."

"Like hell you can't." Flashes of light pulsed between my eyeballs and my brain.

I stopped, thought for a second. "Won't," I said. "I won't do that. Not without a few more answers. Something's not right."

Hetty went silent. This worried me more than anything she could have said. Hetty's usually pretty pissed about something, but she's not the type to get so mad she won't shout it out.

The rain had stopped and so had the waterfall above the stairs. The staircase led up to what used to be the library's domed entryway, but had recently been remodeled into a wide open rubble field complete with a flaming truck and a corpse. The sky was dappled with fast-moving clouds, but the moon was bright and full.

"Quite a mess..." The corpse was barely recognizable as Daryl, but he was missing an arm and had been crushed by the weight of the truck. His head had been split cleanly in two. I turned to see that Lena was still at the bottom of the stairs. Her eyes were wide and she stared up into the sky.

I looked up. There was nothing there.

"Lena—"

"Shhh." She ran up next to me, crouching low. "They're here," she whispered.

"Who?"

Hetty replied, "Your employers, hon. Time to make good on that contract."

Lena's eyes were darting back and forth, scanning the sky.

Closing my eyes, I switched on my scanners. When I opened them, the sky lit up like fireworks. Three cars floated high above, trailing thin lines of drop cords. There must have been men on the ground already, but my scans didn't show any sign of them. Lena was gone, but I expected that. She was fancy, after all.

I felt Lena's hand gently touch my forehead.

"Car," she whispered. "Unlock."

I chewed on my lip. Goodwin's goons were here. All I had to do was stand up and draw attention to myself and the contract would be fulfilled. Hetty and I would get paid. I owed Hetty that much, didn't I? We had been partners for so long.

How long had we been partners? I couldn't remember. What was our first mission? It was all blank. A sea of images and memories were jumbled up in my head. Who's side was I on anyway?

My own side. That had always been the answer. I was sure of it. No matter what memories I was missing, there was one thing I knew for sure: there was nobody out there more important than me.

But that wasn't true either. Pieces of the puzzle started fitting, not with memories but with emotions.

We were too far from the Mustang for it to register, but I ran her sequence anyway. A baseball field, an acoustic guitar, my grandfather—the images that would unlock Suzy.

"Thanks," Lena whispered.

"Get out of here," I said. "Just go."

I didn't have time to consider the fact I’d just let her get away. The shrill howl of needler fire tore through the still night air. It was close, on the other side of the truck.

"Nellie." I recognized her sweet song.

I drew my Colt.

The back half of the truck was still on fire, but the cab was relatively clear. I crouched low and ran as quietly as I could to the ruined vehicle. The door was wide open, but I had to step around Daryl's massive corpse to get in. Climbing up into the tilted vehicle, I saw almost everything the Roth boys had stolen from me. I slipped my boots on first, then rifled through the rest of the stuff.

Everything was there but Nellie.

As quickly as I could, I gathered my things. The e-cuffs were scattered, but I grabbed a few. My guns were all in good shape, still in their holsters. I paused and looked at them. Each gun had a golden G stamped on the side, the mark of the Goodwin Corporation's own armory. I clipped on my Remington pulse pistol and slung the Browning Blue shotgun over my shoulder. I felt safe again.

I wasn't safe.

The first needle tore through my shoulder, tugging me off balance and sending waves of warmth through my arm and chest. I toppled backwards out of the cab, landing cushioned by Daryl's massive corpse.

"Twang!" Connor's voice cracked. I had never heard it laced with so much pain. "You done killed my brothers!"

Another needle tore through the truck, punching a hole next to my head. I rolled to the side just as another dozen needles perforated the truck.

I wanted to tell him it wasn't me, but giving away my location seemed like a bad idea at the time.

There was more gunfire, but sharper, louder this time. Connor swore then fired Nellie a few more times. I circled around the back of the truck, backing away from the fire, when I saw smoke rising from my coat. I'd feel the burns in the morning, but pain-damping had kept me going.

There were three of them. Black-clad figures, barely visible even with my full-spectrum scan. One was tearing apart concrete and glass with a pulse pistol. Waves of force pounded Connor's cover. The two others tried to move, but Connor brushed them back with a couple well-placed shots. It looked like the genius had managed to pin them against a wall behind cover. A fourth figure lay still on the ground.

Just beyond them was the ruined building where I’d stashed my Mustang.

I fingered the grip on my Colt and thought about trading up to a fancier weapon. The Colt was the least fancy piece of tech on the entire field. Still, it had a heft that somehow felt reassuring, so I kept it out.

"Connor," I said, keeping my voice as calm as I could. No need to shout. I stood and walked with measured pace. "Connor, these men are your employers. They're here to pay the bounty."

Connor stopped and leveled Nellie at my head.

"Connor, I didn't kill your brothers. You know that. I'm a man of honor—"

"That's bullshit, Twang," Connor said. His whole body tensed. I flinched, but the needle didn't come.

"Gentlemen," I addressed the three remaining shadows. One of them silently moved behind a shrub. "Mr. Roth and I would like to collect that bounty now."

Connor's jaw dropped open then shut again. Anger faded from his glowing orange eyes. He nodded. My gamble was paying off. Apparently greed trumped love of family.

One of the shadows spoke. "Where's the quarry."

I took a step forward. "She's here," I said.

He whispered something to the guy next to him, who then approached me. His eyes flickered blue as he scanned me. "Tough job, huh? Not just another day at the office, was it?" There was a hint of amusement in his voice.

"How many others did you have working this job?" I asked.

The man approaching me stopped. I could see his trigger finger tense on the sleek pistol he carried. It bore the golden G, just like mine.

"Connor," I said. "You ought to get together with this guy and talk shop sometime. You tactical geniuses are all friends, right?"

"Just give us the girl," said the shadow closest to me.

I didn't move. "You send bounty hunters out to flush the girl, knowing full well they got no chance against her." I smiled. "But stressing her out triggers an implanted program that tells her to come here, a place where her fancy sensors can't detect you until it's too late."

Silence drifted in the gentle wind.

Lena couldn't sense them coming because no signal could enter or leave the bunker under that library. It was shielded.

"Shit," I said. "Hetty."

The closest shadow swung his weapon up, but I drew faster. The Colt thundered one shot, slamming square into the shadow's chest.

He staggered but fired anyway.

He missed. I fired again, slamming two more shots into his skull. He stumbled backward, but didn't go down.

I dropped the Colt, drawing two pulse pistols.

A dozen belches of plasma sunk into the man's chest in rapid succession. As he dropped, I stepped forward, continuing to fire, sending blue-hot force at the man who had done all the talking.

Connor had already tagged him with the needler, but the shadow still fought. One pulse fried the end off of his weapon. The next took the top off of his skull. He slumped to the ground.

There was a roar of explosive flame, and the blue-glow light of two enormous headlights flooded the field. The Mustang was rising slowly. I flipped my sensors off and saw Lena in the seat. Connor raised an arm to shield his eyes.

Suzy swung sharply to the left, revealing the final shadow's hiding spot just as he pulled the trigger. A bullet whizzed by my ear, and I dropped to the ground for cover behind the rubble of the library wall.

Hetty's voice rang in my head. "Stand up, Winston," she said. "They'll let you go, even though you've made a mess of this job."

I shook my head. "No," I said.

Another bullet tore through the air above me. I holstered my pistols and drew the shotgun. I rolled to the right, staying behind the low wall.

I took a breath. Those shadows were Goodwin's men. I fingered the golden G on my shotgun. These were Goodwin's guns. All of them. How did I end up here with only Goodwin's guns hunting a bounty for Goodwin's thugs?

A bullet slammed into the wall, spraying dust into my eyes. I blinked and tried to clear my vision. It was no use. I heard the needler going off. Connor was on the attack.

I stood, eyes closed. I heard needles slam into whatever cover the last shadow had fallen behind. I fired at it with the shotgun, all barrels.

Then there was silence.

My eyes cleared. Connor was approaching, the needler raised in my direction.

"You killed my brothers," he said flatly.

I slung the shotgun back over my shoulder and started walking to the car. It hovered a meter up and was drifting slowly in my direction.

"Killed 'em." Connor tried to step in my way, but I brushed past him. "Where the hell you going, Doc?"

When I got to the car I turned to face Connor. I nodded to the gun in his hands. "You take good care of her, you hear?"

He narrowed his eyes at me then looked down at the needler. He nodded.

"Goodwin's given us all a raw deal," I said. "Sorry about your brothers. It wasn't my intention."

Connor's jaw hardened.

"You'd best disappear for a spell."

He nodded and stowed the weapon. I felt a pang of loss. I had loved that weapon.

Yet I didn’t remember ever having fired it. I searched my memory for any time I had ever used the thing, but it just wasn't there. Every time I tried to recall a hunt, the memory flitted away, like a mirage disappearing when you look straight at it. My knees felt weak. I grabbed the edge of the car and hauled myself up and in.

Collapsing onto the floor, I looked up at Lena. She smiled down at me, reached down to touch my forehead.

Blackness swallowed everything.

The law is nothing in the Republic of Texas. Less government means weak laws and even weaker enforcement. That's how the people like it. Government's got no place in the matters of its people. Sometimes it's up to the strong to protect the weak.

Sometimes it's up to the weak to protect the strong.

I woke.

My breath fogged in the cold. The sky grew pink with the hazy light of morning. Moving hurt, but not moving hurt too. I thought about dulling the pain, but I didn't. It was time for me to face it—all of it. Lena stood a few meters away, facing the brightening sky. The car idled quietly at her side.

"You were always nice to me," she said in a voice so quiet I barely picked it up.

I sat up, despite the pain. Of everything that had happened, my toe hurt the worst. One lousy toenail—or lack thereof—rang out and drown the noise of dozens of other pains. Wincing, I pulled off my boot and poked at the ugly mess of my foot.

"All the stuff you did didn't matter," she said. "All that tech you made, I always dreamed you were making it just for me. Just 'cause you loved me."

"Lena," I said. "I don't know—"

"No." She turned to face me, and her tears glistened in the morning light. "No, you don't know anything. Not anymore." Her slender arms hugged her body hard.

I shook my head and started working on putting my boot back on. "What did I do anyway?"

"You don't wanna know."

"Sure I do."

"No," she said. Her eyes got serious. "You don't. I tried to bring it back in that warehouse, but you fought. I thought I'd give you back the memories that Mr. Goodwin must have took—"

"Instead you left me with big holes and an affinity for blacking out."

She nodded.

A long moment passed. Finally, I set my jaw. "Try it again."

Our eyes met and she stepped forward.

The voice in my head spoke up. "Winston," said Hetty. "Winston, you'd best put a stop to this."

"Quiet."

Lena took my hand in hers. A tingle of electricity pulsed where our skin touched. My mind sharpened.

"Winston," Hetty continued. "Winston, she's up to no good."

My head hurt.

"Lena," I said. She looked up at me. "Can you silence Hetty?"