A Fistful of Trouble (Outlaws of the Galaxy Book 2), Paul Tomlinson [bts books to read .txt] 📗

know. They have lemon meringue pie.” I turned to Casey. “Have you tried the lemon meringue pie? Is it good?”

“Enough!” he roared, jumping to his feet.

Harmony and I moved at the same time.

“You take the right!” she said.

Three robots each, that seemed fair. And whoever finished first could tackle Casey. I think I was giddy with fear.

Harmony hit the floor, rolled, and came up shooting. She was graceful and deadly. I hadn’t been wrong about the amazing part. Her first shot hit a robot in the neck, taking off its head and sending it spinning through the air. It bounced off a table and then rolled out of sight. There was applause from the onlookers. I guess they were rooting for our team.

I couldn’t equal Harmony’s elegance and precision, but I didn’t let that put me off. I fired a couple of shots towards the middle of one of the robots and managed to blow it in half. This drew appreciative shouts from the crowd behind us and I felt buoyed up by their support. Crouching below the level of the tables, I moved in the opposite direction to Harmony.

The robots were swinging their bats. They smashed up furniture and trampled the pieces.

“We need to keep them away from the people,” I shouted across to Harmony.

“We need to shoot them,” she shouted back. She meant the robots, not the people. I’m sure she did.

Seeing the advancing robots, the spectators abandoned their tables and went to stand against the wall at the far side of the room. They were at the furthest point from the entrance, which I didn’t think was a good thing. We would have to try and keep the fight on the other side of the dining area. If things got out of hand, maybe they could all take refuge behind the bar.

Across the room, one of the robots raised the bat high above its head and charged towards Harmony. She fired from hip height and blasted off the robot’s leg. It keeled over sideways. Four of the locals hurried forward to join the fight. They started beating the fallen, one-legged robot. Three of them used table legs and the fourth was swung the bat he’d taken from the robot. Go team.

Movement off to my right caught my attention. One of the security robots had lost both of its arms. I hadn’t seen how this happened. It was charging around headbutting anything that moved. I shot its legs out from under it and it went down with a crash. The last I saw of it, it was bashing its head against the floorboards.

“How are we doing?” I yelled.

“Three down!” Harmony answered.

Only three? I felt sure we’d gunned down an army.

A robot cartwheeled through the air and landed flat on its back on the last remaining table. There were some ominous creaking sounds. The table collapsed, turned into matchwood under it. The robot clambered to its feet, shaking itself like a dog. Those things don’t give up easily. It picked up a table leg to use as a club.

I ducked down behind the bar so I could reload. I found myself crouching next to Horace as I jammed bullets into the revolver. He stared at me wide-eyed. He was shaking, but I couldn’t tell if it was fear or anger. Maybe a bit of both.

“Wild night, huh?” I said. I think my eyes were wide and staring too.

“You’re insane!” Horace yelled as I jumped to my feet and started firing again.

“Where’s Casey?” I shouted.

“To your left,” Harmony called back.

I moved towards the black-clad cowboy. I figured that the only way to end this fight was to confront him directly. If I could take him out of the equation, the leaderless robots might give up and go home. Or they’d go berserk and kill everyone in the place. It could go either way. I holstered my gun. I had no intention of killing Casey.

One of the local men was facing Casey. He held a chair, getting ready to swing it. Casey himself seemed amused by this and stood waiting. While I admired the local man’s pluck, this was my fight. I tapped him on the shoulder.

“May I cut in?”

The man seemed relieved to have me take his place. Casey regarded me with those blue eyes of his and his lips twitched into a half-smile.

“Let’s dance,” he said.

“Do you prefer to lead or follow?” I asked.

In answer, Casey swung a left hook towards my head and I barely managed to duck back beyond its reach. He had long arms. He was wiry, certainly not a heavyweight, but he was almost a head taller than me. He had the advantages of height and reach, but I was quicker. I threw a jab that connected just below his breast bone and followed it with another to the ribs on his right side.

“Not bad,” he said, shaking himself and rolling his shoulders. “Let’s see how quick you really are.”

A knife appeared in his hand. The blade was eight inches long. Razor-sharp on one side, jagged on the other. He tossed it from hand to hand – showing off and trying to hypnotise me. I ignored the blade and concentrated on his eyes. Like poker players, most fighters have a tell. The problem is, you have to observe them for a while to pick up what it is.

A swipe of the blade sliced open the front of my shirt, cutting the loose fabric and not my skin. It was still too close. Casey had long arms and a big knife – I was at a distinct disadvantage.

“Quincy!”

Something flew towards me and I snatched it out of the air. Harmony had thrown me one of the wooden bats. It was a reminder that I wasn’t fighting this battle alone.

“Isn’t she amazing?” I said. Casey didn’t seem that impressed. His knife stabbed towards me. I knocked it aside with the bat and then brought the bat around again quickly and whacked it down on his hand. The