My Gun Has Bullets (35 page)

Even cleaned up, Delbert wasn't pretty. His smashed nose hung over his scabby lips, and his head was so badly swollen, it looked lopsided.

"Now we're even." Delbert held up his gnarled hand to show them what he meant.

Otto was furious. "I didn't stomp on your hand." He motioned to Burt.
"He
did."

"My mistake." Delbert shrugged and shot Burt in the hand.

Burt yelped, the force of the bullet spinning him in a bloody pirouette.

The three men, standing there with their lopsided heads and maimed left hands, looked like brothers.

''Thanks a lot," Burt sneered at Otto, holding up his gushing stump. "How's this going to look on the screen test?"

"It's not
my
fault." Otto glared at Delbert. ''These are rented tuxedos, asshole. Now they're going to make us buy them."

Their hands were blown off, and they were worried about staining their clothes. They didn't even seem to feel the pain. It was the most astounding thing Delbert had ever seen, but he had no time to think about it. With luck they'd bleed to death before he had to kill them.

"Shut up and step away from the girl." Delbert motioned them away with his gun. He was going to kill these two jerks right here, and Eddie, Sabrina, and Charlie before the evening was out. The only thing keeping Eddie alive right now was that Delbert needed an extra hand with Sabrina.

Otto and Burt reluctantly moved to one side. Eddie and Sabrina lay motionless on the ground, splattered with blood. Delbert pointed at Eddie with his gun.

Eddie immediately covered his head with his arms, but before he could start to beg, Delbert spoke.

"Get her on her feet."

Eddie was so grateful to be alive he almost squealed. "Yes sir, right away," he said, scrambling to his feet.

He grabbed Sabrina under the arms and lifted her up. She glared at Eddie with such loathing he had to look away, so she shifted her gaze to Delbert, who didn't shrink away at all. In fact, he liked it.

"Since I seem to be so goddamn important here," said Sabrina, her confusion long since overcome by her fury, "you mind telling me what the hell this is all about?"

"Ratings," Delbert replied, shifting his attention to Eddie. ''Take her to
Global Armageddon.
I'll join you ill a few minutes."

"Unhand her," someone shrieked, "or I'll kill you all."

Everyone turned toward the voice, and what they saw horrified them.

# # #

McGarrett suddenly stood up, alert, his entire body stiff.

"What is it?" Charlie asked, not expecting an answer.

McGarrett sniffed the air, the hair rising on his back, and took two strong steps forward. Charlie stuck his hand through the loop of the leash and wrapped it once around his wrist.

"Take it easy, McGarrett," Charlie said firmly. "Relax."

The dog bolted, yanking Charlie off his feet, dragging him along the ground behind him, the rough gravel tearing at his body like tiny knives.

"Stop," Charlie yelled, rolling on his stomach and grabbing the leash with both hands, trying to regain control. It was futile. McGarrett ran at full clip, showing reserves of strength Charlie never guessed he had.

"McGarrett!" Charlie roared. "Stop!"

The dog dragged him out of
Global Armageddon,
through the Champs Elysées, and into Dodge City. Charlie struggled, but his arm was hopelessly tangled in the leash, and he didn't have the strength in his other arm, ravaged by Boo Boo, to put up much of a fight.

McGarrett seemed oblivious to him, the sedentary dog using every ounce of his being to charge toward Times Square.

Just as they were leaving the Old West and entering midtown Manhattan, the leash snapped. Charlie rolled to a stop, dazed and bloody, glancing up in time to see McGarrett running down 42nd Street, the torn leash trailing behind him.

# # #

Boyd Hartnell rose up on his knees, mud-caked and naked, his once glorious mane a tangled haven for fleas and ticks. Drool spilled out of his mouth, landing in gobs on Reed Roland's gun, which he held in his claw and pointed at Delbert Skaggs.

"Drop your gun," Boyd screeched, scratching his balls with his free hand.

Delbert complied. He made it a rule never to argue with a frothing, armed man scratching his filthy balls with inch-long fingernails.

Otto and Burt, their injuries momentarily forgotten, stared at this beast in utter fascination.

"It's Boo Boo," declared Otto, certain the celebrity mutt had somehow evolved into this hideous creature. "The whole studio must be radioactive."

Boyd turned his wild gaze on Eddie.

"She's mine," Boyd screeched. "Give her to me now."

Eddie immediately unhanded Sabrina, who stood for a moment, uncertain which fate was worse—remaining with this motley bunch, or going with the dogman.

"If I can't have you, Sabrina, no one will," Boyd yelled, then howled at the moon.

That was enough incentive for Sabrina. She was staggering toward him when McGarrett tore out of the darkness and tackled Boyd, knocking the gun from him.

Sabrina dived for Boyd's gun. Delbert dived for his. Otto kicked the gun out of Delbert's reach and Burt stomped on his hand, then on his head for good measure. Eddie threw himself down the subway steps into the access tunnel. And McGarrett lustily ravaged Boyd, the two of them tumbling down the sidewalk, howling, hair flying.

Sabrina caught the gun against her chest, sliding the weapon along with her into a storefront doorway. In one smooth, lightning-fast move, she jumped into the air, tucked up her legs, and swung her arms underneath her feet, bringing her lashed wrists in front of her. She snatched the gun, whipped around, and fired off two shots at Otto and Burt, who leapt behind a park bench for cover.

Otto and Burt were entertainment professionals. They knew the sound of blanks when they heard them. So did Sabrina. She tossed the gun and ran through the door into the next street on the other side.

Otto and Burt weren't going to let their babe get away. They ran after her, leaving a trail of blood in their wake.

Charlie staggered to his feet and saw Sabrina run toward Europe, followed a moment later by Otto and Burt. Furious, he charged off after them, wishing he had a gun.

She ran blindly down the streets, hearing her pursuers behind her. None of this made any sense to her. Who were these people? Why were they killing each other? What did they want with her? The only thing she understood was that, for whatever reason, she was fighting for her life. That was really all that mattered anyway.

Sabrina ran around a corner into Florence, Italy, and jumped through the open window of a cafe. She hunkered down and held her breath. A moment later, Otto and Burt scrambled past, on their way to Rome.

She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, relieved. That's when someone reached through the window and clamped a bloody hand overher mouth. She bit him as hard as she could, freeing herself, whirling around to confront ...
Charlie!

She was horrified, not only at having bit him, but by the way he looked. He'd obviously been through a terrible beating.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I thought you were one of the bad guys."

"Don't worry about it," he said, clutching his hand and grimacing with pain.

Charlie climbed through the window and she pulled him into a big hug.

"It's so good to see you." She pressed her face into his chest. "I didn't think I ever would again."

"We aren't out of this yet." He reluctantly pushed her away. "But we'll have a much better chance if at least one of us has both hands."

Charlie found the sharp point of a rusty nail sticking out of the wall, and led her over to it. While she used the nail to cut the duct tape around her wrists, Charlie explained, as best he could, what was going on. By the time he was through, she was free and red-faced with anger.

"I'll kill 'em," she said.

"You can kill them later," Charlie said. "Right now, let's concentrate on getting out of the park alive."

He peered out the door and, satisfied they were alone, took her by the hand and led her out. They were in the middle of the street when they both heard the growl of an engine.

"Run," Charlie yelled.

Behind them, a bashed GMC truck whipped around the corner, smashed into a fountain, and screeched across the cobblestones toward them. Otto drove, Burt yee-hawed.

Charlie knew there was no way they were going to outrun a truck. He grabbed Sabrina's hand and dragged her with him into the nearest facade.

Otto saw them and wrenched the wheel, charging directly into the row of fake buildings. The truck decimated the thin facades, plowing through them in a spray of splintered wood and stucco.

Florence destroyed, Otto spun the truck around in a swirl of dust.

"I never liked Italy," Burt said.

When the dust settled, they saw Charlie and Sabrina dashing across Dodge City into the Silver Dollar Hotel. Otto pressed the pedal to the floor. The GMC shot forward, tires smoking, toward Dodge City.

Charlie and Sabrina raced out of the courthouse on the other side and hurried down the steps into the town square of Anytown, USA. Behind them, they could hear the roar of the truck closing in. They only had a few seconds until Otto and Burt blew through the courthouse behind them and found them in the open.

Charlie pointed to the end of the street, at the backdrop of a country road winding into the distance, which was painted onto the wall of soundstage 17.

"That way," he said, nearly out of breath.

"It's a dead end," she protested.

"I know."

And with that, he took her hand and they ran down Main Street to the country road backdrop. Charlie and Sabrina were barely across the square when the truck burst out of the courthouse, hurled into the fake columns, and crashed into the bandstand, flattening it.

Charlie looked back to see the truck closing in behind them, the courthouse crumbling in its wake. It would only be a second or two before the truck mowed them down. They were all running out of road.

"We'll get 'em before they reach the hills," Otto yelled, looking ahead at the long, winding road.

"What hills?" Burt asked.

Just as Otto realized his mistake, Charlie and Sabrina jumped into the brush on either side of the road. Otto stomped on the breaks, but it was too late.

The truck slammed into the painted wall of soundstage 17, hurling Otto and Burt across the crumpled hood like two tuxedoed crash dummies. An instant later the truck exploded, coughing their flaming bodies up into the air, which was as close as they would ever get to being stars.

Charlie and Sabrina straggled out of the bushes and stared at the burning truck, the flames licking the country road off the soundstage.

"Let's go," Charlie said. "We don't want to be here when the police arrive.

They slogged through Muck Thing's swamp lands, dashed down the Champs Elysées and cut across the post-apocalyptic landscape of
Global Armageddon.

They were winding through the rubble toward the bleachers when Delbert Skaggs popped up behind the burned-out car in front of them. He set his elbows on the charred hood, steadying the gun he held in his mangled hands.

"End of the line," Delbert croaked, aiming the gun at Charlie.

"Give up, Skaggs." Charlie stepped in front of Sabrina. "It's over."

"For you it is," Delbert said. "Of all the people I've killed, I'm going to enjoy killing you the most, and until a few days ago, I didn't even know you."

Charlie nervously shook his arm as if trying to get the blood circulating again. "I advise you to drop your gun."

Delbert flashed a toothless grin. "Give me one good reason."

The remote control dropped out of Charlie's sleeve into his hand. Charlie met Delbert's gaze. "Because my gun has bullets."

Delbert cocked the trigger. "You don't have a gun."

Charlie pressed a button. With a metallic roar, the Robokiller smashed through the skyscraper behind Delbert and fired two flaming missiles from his head-mounted cannons.

Charlie and Sabrina hit the ground.

Delbert whirled around to see the fake missiles streak past him on their thin wires, smacking harmlessly into the ground on either side of the burned-out car.

He was starting to turn, a derisive laugh rising in his throat, when the explosive charge hidden under his feet went off, blowing him and the car hulk into the air.

The car was rigged to a line that brought it back to earth. Delbert was not. The hitman cart-wheeled through the air, smacked into the bleachers, and broke through the floor, his body landing atop the half-eaten, decomposed corpse of Joel Metzger, who had been missing for days.

As Charlie and Sabrina stood up, one of the resistance fighters' cannon-mounted jeeps burst through the debris behind them, firing rounds at the Robokiller. Charlie pulled Sabrina off the stage just as the Robokiller fired back, and the ground where they had been lying exploded.

The two of them climbed onto the first row of the bleachers and sat down, catching their breath, the pyrotechnical extravaganza continuing on in front of them. In the distance, they could hear approaching sirens and the chopping rhythm of a helicopter streaking their way.

Wincing, Charlie slid his dog-bitten arm around Sabrina's shoulder and drew her to him.

"I think I've had enough of the tour," he said. "How about you?"

Six Months Later

A
fifty-year-old, cigar-chomping vaudeville comedian reincarnated as a French poodle—everyone knew
that
was
Boo Boo's Dilemma.
But when the dog is decapitated in a freak accident, and his head is attached to a malfunctioning robot, well, that's even funnier.