Read Online Grit and Grace: A Metal and Men Novella (Metal and Men Series Book 1) by Anthony Eichenlaub - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Anthony Eichenlaub
Ads: Link
their way along the torn metal, edging my heavy body closer to the window. If I could just move a little closer I'd be able to swing a leg up and pull myself outside.
My bloodied hand slipped. I hung for several achingly long seconds, cursing the pain. I knew how to make the climb, but my body refused to obey. I couldn't tell if my tech had seized up or if it was my muscles. I wasn't going to make it.
"Well, if it ain't Doctor Winston Brand, the Doc Twang himself." The voice was high-pitched and nasal. I recognized it as that of Connor Roth of the infamous Roth brothers.
I twisted around and dropped to the floor. My impact echoed through the warehouse and sent dust flying.
Lots of things weren't working quite right in that brain of mine, but one thing I knew for sure was I did not like being called Doc Twang. That put me in a dangerous mood.
"That was another time, Roth," I said. "Got nothin' to do with why we're here."
Connor stepped closer into the room, followed by his brothers Daryl and Charlie. Daryl was an idiot—slack-jawed and slow. He was strong, though, and I knew from experience that he followed orders. Charlie was a little harder to pin down. Like the others, he had sandy-brown hair, but looking straight at him gave a guy a headache. He wore a scrambler, which made his features difficult to see properly by distorting light around him. It was probably the one piece of tech that kept him out of prison.
I rested my hand gently on my Colt. "No reason for us to be talking," I said. "Just let me pass right on out and you have yourself a look around."
Connor smiled. "No reason, Doc? Seems we got plenty of reason." He snickered at this, and his brothers joined in as if they got the same joke. "Seems to me we just about had our bounty, and you done scared her away."
"That so?"
"Indeed." Connor was close now, five meters away. I could already smell the gunsmoke and tobacco on him. "So the way I see it, you owe me some compensation or some information. We're gonna kill us that damn bounty this time. Finish this whole mess."
Neural enhancements are a funny thing; they can give you access to more information, but they don't always help you sort out the best choice of paths. For instance, between my neural network and my eye enhancements, I knew that Daryl was tensing up. He was ready for a fight. I also could tell that Charlie wasn't where he seemed to be. The blur surrounding him shimmered and popped, indicating an active holographic projection. I didn't need fancy brain enhancements to calculate that they had me outnumbered and outgunned.
My enhanced brain had no algorithm that could help with the tactical navigation of stressful conversations, so I used my instincts.
"Fuck you." My instincts were bad.
A pulse of pain and electric shock burst from my kidney and spread through my chest. I turned my head to see Charlie's mischievous grin.
Then Daryl was close. His gigantic fist slammed into my head, sending icy-sharp lines of pain down my neck. The idea of up became a mystery, and I crumpled to the floor.
Daryl closed one hand around my head and lifted me up to face Connor.
Connor looked at me, cool and calculating with emotionless eyes. "It seems to me you ought—"
I shot him.
At least, I thought I shot him. My head was spinning so hard I didn’t know if I hit him or not. Muscle reflexes kicked in, and I drew my weapon and fired before he could do a damn thing about it.
I fired again. Daryl heaved me up by my head, then slammed me hard into the ground.
A vision of a girl—a slim, beautiful girl—swam in front of my eyes. She was young, maybe eleven, and she smiled a huge grin with shining white teeth. "Dead oak," she said. Her voice was a soft whisper. She produced a card with those words and some coordinates written on it and slipped it into the front pocket of my duster. The Roth boys acted like they didn't see her. Was she really there? Was this a lost memory?
A pit of blackness swallowed the
My bloodied hand slipped. I hung for several achingly long seconds, cursing the pain. I knew how to make the climb, but my body refused to obey. I couldn't tell if my tech had seized up or if it was my muscles. I wasn't going to make it.
"Well, if it ain't Doctor Winston Brand, the Doc Twang himself." The voice was high-pitched and nasal. I recognized it as that of Connor Roth of the infamous Roth brothers.
I twisted around and dropped to the floor. My impact echoed through the warehouse and sent dust flying.
Lots of things weren't working quite right in that brain of mine, but one thing I knew for sure was I did not like being called Doc Twang. That put me in a dangerous mood.
"That was another time, Roth," I said. "Got nothin' to do with why we're here."
Connor stepped closer into the room, followed by his brothers Daryl and Charlie. Daryl was an idiot—slack-jawed and slow. He was strong, though, and I knew from experience that he followed orders. Charlie was a little harder to pin down. Like the others, he had sandy-brown hair, but looking straight at him gave a guy a headache. He wore a scrambler, which made his features difficult to see properly by distorting light around him. It was probably the one piece of tech that kept him out of prison.
I rested my hand gently on my Colt. "No reason for us to be talking," I said. "Just let me pass right on out and you have yourself a look around."
Connor smiled. "No reason, Doc? Seems we got plenty of reason." He snickered at this, and his brothers joined in as if they got the same joke. "Seems to me we just about had our bounty, and you done scared her away."
"That so?"
"Indeed." Connor was close now, five meters away. I could already smell the gunsmoke and tobacco on him. "So the way I see it, you owe me some compensation or some information. We're gonna kill us that damn bounty this time. Finish this whole mess."
Neural enhancements are a funny thing; they can give you access to more information, but they don't always help you sort out the best choice of paths. For instance, between my neural network and my eye enhancements, I knew that Daryl was tensing up. He was ready for a fight. I also could tell that Charlie wasn't where he seemed to be. The blur surrounding him shimmered and popped, indicating an active holographic projection. I didn't need fancy brain enhancements to calculate that they had me outnumbered and outgunned.
My enhanced brain had no algorithm that could help with the tactical navigation of stressful conversations, so I used my instincts.
"Fuck you." My instincts were bad.
A pulse of pain and electric shock burst from my kidney and spread through my chest. I turned my head to see Charlie's mischievous grin.
Then Daryl was close. His gigantic fist slammed into my head, sending icy-sharp lines of pain down my neck. The idea of up became a mystery, and I crumpled to the floor.
Daryl closed one hand around my head and lifted me up to face Connor.
Connor looked at me, cool and calculating with emotionless eyes. "It seems to me you ought—"
I shot him.
At least, I thought I shot him. My head was spinning so hard I didn’t know if I hit him or not. Muscle reflexes kicked in, and I drew my weapon and fired before he could do a damn thing about it.
I fired again. Daryl heaved me up by my head, then slammed me hard into the ground.
A vision of a girl—a slim, beautiful girl—swam in front of my eyes. She was young, maybe eleven, and she smiled a huge grin with shining white teeth. "Dead oak," she said. Her voice was a soft whisper. She produced a card with those words and some coordinates written on it and slipped it into the front pocket of my duster. The Roth boys acted like they didn't see her. Was she really there? Was this a lost memory?
A pit of blackness swallowed the
Similar Books
