Page 83 of Runaway Hucow

“I know,” Tess said, turning to the bar, “but I couldn’t hear a goddamn thing with that stuff in my ears.”

“You shouldn’t cuss either.”

“I know. You can spank me when we get back home, okay?”

The stack of money was still lying on the bar where the auctioneer had tossed it a moment before. Tess thumbed through the bills. They looked real. The man might have been a lying bastard, but he was honest when it came to money.

Tess pulled out about twenty of the bills and dropped them behind the bar where the barkeep was still cowering. She stuffed the rest between her breasts and nodded toward the door.

“Shall we?”

“Stay behind me,” Spike said.

Tess thought it wise to obey. It wasn’t that she was afraid of getting shot. She had so much adrenaline pumping through her right now, she felt like she could take on the entire town. But she knew a hucow with a pistol was less intimidating than a horned giant with an oversized shotgun, so she let Spike lead the way. Hopefully his appearance would be enough to dissuade the citizens of Crooked Valley from getting involved in the situation.

Spike marched toward the front of the saloon and pressed himself against the wall next to the entrance. He peered out over the top of the swinging door. Tess huddled behind him, clutching her pistol tightly. She didn’t have as good a view as Spike did, but she could see that a small crowd was gathering outside in the town square, no doubt drawn by the sound of gunfire. Farther away, on the opposite side of the square, she could see the wooden auction block where she had stood two weeks before.

“Where’s Peyton,” Spike grumbled. “He’s supposed to be here by now.”

“He’ll be here,” Tess said.

Right on cue, a low hum filled the saloon, gradually growing louder until the panes of glass in the windows started to rattle from the vibrations. Outside, dust swirled up from the ground, and people began to murmur and point toward the sky.

Then there came a sound like a plate breaking, and across the square, the auction block was suddenly engulfed in orange flames. Several people started to scream, but they were soon drowned out by an inhumanly loud voice from above.

Peyton’s voice.

“Alright, listen up,” the young bisonman said, his words amplified by an electric loudspeaker he had designed himself. “My two partners are about to come walking out of the Mother Lode Saloon. If anybody tries to take a shot at them, I’ll start dropping more bombs and setting more shit on fire.”

“I guess that’s our cue,” Tess said.

Spike nodded. “I reckon so.”

He pushed through the door of the saloon and stepped outside, and Tess followed right on his heels. When the people in the square saw the size of Spike’s gun, they quickly got out of his way. Tess held her own gun at the ready too, though she was pretty sure nobody was actually looking at her. They were all looking at the giant bisonman.

Or else they were looking at the airship.

The craft was hovering about fifty feet above the town square. Tess knew that Peyton was sitting behind the flight controls, and one of the Walker men was up there with him, along with a crate full of homemade firebombs.

The bombs consisted of one-gallon stoneware jugs filled with flammable fluid, with a rag stuffed in the mouth. All you had to do was light the rag on fire, drop the jug out the window, and… boom! That’s what had set the auction stage on fire a few seconds ago.

As she followed Spike out to the center of the town square, she glanced at the people standing around watching the scene. She recognized a few of them from the auction, but none of them made any attempt to stop her or Spike. Between the airship, the burning stage, and the 4-gauge, they were too scared to intervene.

Tess had known they would be.

And if the airship, fire, and 4-gauge weren’t enough to scare them into submission, the thing that came marching in from the other side of the square certainly was. It was a bison minotaur with a golden alpha-sign curving across his chest and a gigantic ax clutched in his enormous fists. The blade of the ax was dripping red.

Apparently Roscoe had run into a little trouble.

Or rather, trouble had run into him.

The other two Walker men were following right behind him, both of them armed with carbines, and they were followed in turn by three terrified hucows whom they had rescued from the stable while Tess and Spike had been dealing with the auctioneer. In the grand scheme of things, three rescued hucows maybe didn’t amount to much, but at least it was something.

Chase was with them too. The golden eagle circled over the town square, eyeing the crowd for troublemakers.

Roscoe and his companions joined Tess and Spike in the middle of the square. A moment later, four ropes descended from the gondola of the airship. Each rope had a metal hook on the end.

Now came the really dangerous part. This was when they would be the most vulnerable.