Condemned (Death Planet Book 1) (15 page)

He sat back, bare-chested. Then tossed the shirt to Princess. She put down her bottle as she grabbed it. The smell of his sweat filled her nose as she held it in her arms. She shivered at the thought of that smell on her skin. So wrong, yet so right.

She glanced at him. He was still staring at her, with a smirk. He was much taller than she was, the shirt would probably be long enough to make a dress.

Brunhilde roared above them, in the bar. “Come here, you shit-heads. I’m going to drink from your skulls.”

Princess pulled the arms of the shirt until they tore loose, then pulled the remains over her head. It had cooled since he took it off, and the damp cloth sucked the heat from her skin. She stood, her head nearly touching the ceiling, and wrapped one of the loose arms around her waist as a belt.

Then she pulled off the pants, and tossed them aside.

She looked down. The hem of the shirt came down nearly to her knees. Not enough cleavage, though. She grabbed the neck and pulled until it tore. She ripped the front open down to her belly button, then wriggled her shoulders. She jiggled nicely down there. That would do.

He watched, smiling, as she tore the bottom off the shirt. Then she tore more. Then she tore some more. Was that too little? Or too much? She didn't want to look too slutty. Best to err on the side of caution. She tore off a few more centimetres, and flicked her hips from side to side. It swung nicely around her legs, exposing plenty of flesh. Not exactly the height of fashion, but better than those smelly old pants.

She glanced toward Nathan. His eyes were fixed on her as he watched the show. He seemed to think it was good enough.

She picked up the bottle, wiped some of the dirt away with the other arm of the shirt, and stared into a face distorted by the curve of the bottle.

Oh, how she could do with some makeup. Her face was smeared with mud, and she still had bruises where that horse-hybrid asshole had hit her. Her modded body might heal fast, but not that fast. Her hair was a mess, matted and unkempt. What she'd give for a shower, a hairbrush, and the time to make use of it. Should she just let the dye wear out of it, and go back to her old blonde look? He'd probably like that. Where would she even get hair dye in this place, anyway?

And she'd kill for some nice heels.

Nathan whistled at her.

“You clean up nice.”

She put her hands on her hips, and her feet apart. “Want to get me dirty again?”

R
ed kept one hand on the blonde as he slapped the other against the wall beside Daniel's head. He leaned forward, until the stench of rotten meat and drugs blasted into Daniel's face.

Daniel coughed. Dammit, why didn't he look before he tried to be a hero? Now he'd be a dead hero.

Red smiled. “You killed Hairy, you little bassstard.”

“I didn't kill anyone. I don't even know what Hairy is.”

Where was Guy when Daniel needed him? His drone was hovering near the ceiling, just watching. He must know Daniel was in trouble. If Red wasn’t drunk, or stoned, he could have been dead already.

“Ssstubby,” Red yelled. A door opened at the top of the stairs, and the one-armed hunter peered out, naked. He saw Daniel, and charged down the stairs.

Daniel swung his knee toward Red’s groin. Well, it worked for the girl. Red made no attempt to block. Pain stabbed through Daniel's knee as it smacked into metal where soft flesh should be. Red laughed, and punched Daniel in the chest. He lurched forward, gasping for breath.

Red grabbed his hair. “That trick don't work twicsse. We’ll have sssome revenge tonight.”

Stubby stared at Daniel from the bottom of the stairs, then pointed. “That’s Sparky’s jacket.”

The drone moved closer. Was Guy really going to leave him to these freaks? He’d be dead by dawn, if he couldn’t find a way to escape.

Red released the girl, slammed his hands into Daniel’s chest, and pushed him back against the wall. He grabbed the lapels of the jacket, pulled them up, and looked it over. “Where did you get thisss, you little ssshit?”

“Someone gave it to me.”

“What sssomeone?”

“Just someone.”

Stubby grabbed Daniel’s chin, and stared into his eyes. “The little shit killed Sparky, too.”

‘I didn’t kill anyone.”

Red leaned closer. “Then tell usss who did. Becaussse I’m gonna rip him a new assssshole where hisss dick wasss, then fuck him in it.”

Blonde hair tickled Daniel’s face as the girl leaned in and planted her lips on Red’s. She wrapped her arms around Red’s head, and moaned as she rubbed herself against him.

Daniel stamped on Stubby’s foot, kneed him in the balls, and twisted away as the blonde kept Red occupied. He barged past the Guards, and ran into the street as fast as his aching knee could go. Red pushed the blonde away, and ran. He smashed into the Guards, knocked them to the floor, and stumbled as he tried to regain his balance. Stubby hobbled behind.

“Nothing you liked?” the cat-girl said as Daniel passed her. Then she dodged aside as Red barged past, and the two Guards lunged after him, swords drawn. Stubby brought up the rear, then stopped and leaned against the wall. At least Daniel had improved his odds by taking one of them out of the chase.

He turned to the right, and ran along the street. If Red was drugged, he might have a hard time keeping up. Daniel glanced back. No, Red was moving faster than he was. Running in a straight line wouldn’t get him anywhere. Red must also know the city, as he’d been there before. So hiding wasn’t likely to help. And fighting? Yeah, right.

He was doomed.

Yells from up ahead. Men in Guards’ uniforms were trying to push their way into a building along the street, while others wearing rags and rough leather tried to push their way out. A man screamed inside the building, and something growled like a pack of rabid bears.

Daniel raced toward them. Capitalists were grabbing their goods and running from their stalls. He dodged past them. The crowd in the street might give him an opportunity to escape. Red’s hooves splashed through a puddle behind, close enough to splatter water and mud across Daniel’s back. But the crowd were only a few metres away.

“Ssstop that asssssshole,” Red yelled.

Two of the men outside the building glanced his way, but neither made any attempt to interfere. Others backed away as Daniel raced toward them.

A man ran from the building, his nose mangled, and blood running down his face from a gash in his forehead. Daniel tried to dodge, but the man smashed into his side, and he slammed down into the mud, winded by the impact. The man rolled on past, into the middle of the street.

Daniel gasped for breath, and tried to push himself up. His left leg jerked and pulled him backwards as something grabbed it. He rolled over, and found himself looking into Red’s muzzle.

“We’re gonna have sssome fun with you,” Red said.

A fat man flew out of the window, screaming. Red grunted, and fell forward as the man smashed down onto his back. Daniel rolled aside before the weight of the man’s outstretched arms could pin him down in the mud. The man groaned, and Red groaned beneath him. Daniel pushed himself to his feet, then forced his way through the crowd outside the bar. An alley led off to the side, and he jogged that way.

The yells grew louder as he entered the alley, and things smashed inside the building. The alley led back toward the street with the whorehouse, possibly not the best place to go. A drone buzzed along the alley toward him. He glanced behind. Red stumbled around the corner of the bar, toward the alley.

Something hissed near Daniel’s feet.

A furry face peered out at him from below the building. Hands motioned toward him, in the shadows down there.

It was better than nothing. Daniel dropped into the mud, and slid his feet into the gap beneath the building. He crawled under there, just before Red looked along the alley.

Rat-Girl stared at him, and her nose twitched. This must be another of her hiding places. Hopefully it would hide him, too, because he was right out of ideas. She sniffed his hand, then his forearm, then his face. Then she smiled at him.

Maybe letting her have his pie hadn’t been such a bad idea.

He relaxed and took deep breaths. He’d hide down there for a while, then... what? He couldn’t stay long in Kingston, if the hunters were still hunting him. If he didn’t find Guy again, he’d be on his own, with no friends, and no idea where he could find a safe space. Everywhere was full of criminals, and could be just as bad as this. He’d become just like them, if he wanted to survive. Killing, robbing, abusing anyone in his power, using them for his entertainment, selling them like animals.

Perhaps he should just head to the mountains, climb a tall one, close his eyes, and throw himself out into the empty air. At least it would be quick. Once he hit the ground, anyway.

The girl rubbed her furry arm with her other hand, then rubbed his, with barely any hair. She giggled.

Something splashed in a puddle further up the alley. Daniel shushed the girl, and she twisted her head around, toward the noise of someone walking along the alley. Daniel peered out of the gap below the boards. A hoof splashed into another puddle in the mud, then another furry, leather-clad leg followed it. Rat-Girl pointed toward Red, and hissed. Daniel slapped his hand over her mouth.

“Come on, boy,” Red yelled. “I’m only gonna kill ya.”

Rat-Girl twisted in Daniel’s grip. He grabbed her shoulder. Her long, muddy hair slapped against his arm as she tried to turn away.

“Keep quiet,” Daniel whispered, then held his breath as Red crept along the alley.

T
he shit-faced cocksuckers just wouldn’t give up. Brunhilde stormed along the street, howling as she ran. The crowd of merchants, spectators and hangers-on parted, racing to get as far as they could from the crazy bear who bore down on them as fast as she could move. Behind her, the feet of a dozen Guards thumped on the mud, and splashed in the puddles.

“Kings Guard. Stop,” one yelled.

The onlookers ignored the shouts. At least the fucking Guards hadn’t tried firing guns or throwing spears at her yet. They must want her alive. Though that could be worse, given she’d just killed half a dozen of them. If someone had done that to her men, she’d want to kill them nice and slow in return.

Where was that girl? Did they catch her already? Leaving her behind and running away was a shitty thing to do, but she’d disappeared sometime during the fight. In the bar, the assholes just had to gang up and attack in a big bundle and Brunhilde wouldn’t have room to manoeuvre. Outside, she at least had space to move, and maybe get away.

One of their fucking evil six-eyed dog-like things howled at her from the alley ahead. She dodged aside, but it ran for her anyway. She kicked it in the head, and it went down, yelping. It rolled along the street before it smacked into a stall, climbed back to its feet, and hobbled after her.

Two Guards raced around the square, past the slave market. She needed to lose these jerk-offs and figure out what to do next. She wouldn’t have much luck in this place if they were going to try to catch her every time she showed her fur. The market was still trading, and two male slaves stood on the stage with Garry. Another hound growled behind Brunhilde’s heels, and she dodged. The hound passed by, and Brunhilde jumped for the stage. Wood shook and cracked as her feet smashed down, and Garry turned and ran. The hound slid to a halt in the mud, and hissed at her.

The slaves’ eyes bulged at the sight, and they mumbled at her through their gags. One flick of a claw was enough to cut through the cords that bound their wrists, but they'd have to handle the rest themselves. As Brunhilde lumbered past them, they untied their feet and gags, and yelled at the Guards.

She jumped on the nearest cart, smashed the lock on the cage that held two women in the back, and cut through their straps. Then hopped to the cart alongside, whose wheels groaned as her weight added to that of a girl and two men in the back. She freed them, too. The male slaves grabbed some broken wooden bars from the cage, and raced toward the Guards. The women were smarter, and ran away from them.

A sharp pain jabbed her arm as a whip cracked against it. Garry swung the whip again. She winced with the stinging pain in her paw as she grabbed the end, and pulled. Garry flew toward her. She grabbed him, and punched him in the face. His nose broke with a satisfying crunch. She punched him again. He went limp, and his eyes rolled back.

Two Guards raced toward the cart. She twisted around and kicked Garry in the face. His neck twisted and crunched, and he flew backwards through the air, tumbling toward the Guards. They tried to dodge, but he smashed into them, and sent them flying.

Brunhilde kicked the cage until it fell out of the back of the cart. No point carrying that excess weight when she wanted to move fast. The hauler whined at the noise. She slumped down on the bench seat, and grabbed the reins.

A naked blonde girl raced past. A wide smile spread across her face as she stared down at Garry. Then she raised a foot, and brought it down hard on Garry’s face with a bone-crunching smack. Then did it again. And again, cackling as she did so.

“Fuck you, Garry. Told you I’d kill you.”

Brunhilde flicked the reins. “Move, you stupid fucker,” she yelled at the hauler. It flicked its head back and howled, then lunged forward. The cart jerked as it began to move, and she hauled on the right rein to steer it past the blonde.

The Guards on the ground struggled to get up. Brunhilde grabbed the whip, and slapped the hauler on its ass. It reared, and stormed ahead through the mud. The cart raced toward the Guards as one raised a pistol. Brunhilde leaned across the seat, and swung her leg out. It smacked into him as the cart passed, and the gun boomed as he flew backwards into the mud again.

“Get out of the fucking way,” she yelled as she approached the crowd that had gathered around the slave market, watching the show. She wasn’t stopping, and they ran in all directions to avoid the hauler’s feet. One of the men yelled as his foot crunched beneath the cart’s wheels.