Chapters

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Link clutched his rifle like it was the only thing that put air in his lungs. Bits of plaster were crumbling off the wall with each cluster of buckshot that slammed into the other side. Old Man Gibson never killed a soul far as anyone knew, but damned if he didn't love to scare folks.

"Sonny! I'm kicking the cannon your way! Get out from behind that safe and kill this sumnabitch like he was a daddy that smacked you!"

The Glock slid next to me and the stoic as we took cover with the big-ass safe in the room. That should give you an idea of how scared I was. I had a choice between being out in the open or cuddling up next to a wild one and I chose the latter. I don't know if the blonde being Link's pet made it more or less of a threat. Anyway, it hadn't done anything to me yet, so I took my chances.

I reached out and grabbed the Glock. Gibson tried to thank me for it by blasting my hand off, but he was a few inches shy of his mark. I'd never fired a live round before, just the tranq darts. I took a bunch of deep breaths to get myself in the mood to get shot at, but by the time I got out from behind the safe there was nobody to call me clay pigeon. Gibson was on the floor, not moving a muscle.

"Damn, Link! What'd you do that for?"

"Don't look at me, bumpkin. My barrel's cold."

He was telling the truth. Gibson hadn't been hit. He just collapsed there in the middle of a fire fight. Maybe it was his ticker, maybe a stroke. Hell, maybe hypoglycemia for all I know. The important part is, he wasn't shooting anymore. I kicked the pump-action away from his hand and put my palm to his chest.

"Shit. He ain't breathing, Link."

"Aw, idn't that just typical?" Link said, kicking a waste bin, "This old cuss wasn't even supposed to be here tonight!"

I wasn't down with this business. I told him so. I told him I signed up to nab some jerk former Senator's treasury bonds, not put the bastard in the ground. I knew if the cops got hold of me I'd never see the outside again. Some car thief jumping parole to murder a public servant? I'd spend the first ten years in solitary. I started to lose it right then and there. I even thought of shooting Link down for all he'd gotten me into. But then the stoic stepped out from behind the safe. It got on all fours, easing over to Gibson like a cat around a bleeding mouse. I thought for a second it might start eating him.

Instead, it lifted him up and set him down in a chair. Then it sat on him, face to face with its arms around his neck. It started thrashing its hair around, arching its back and flailing its arms around. Link leaned on his rifle.

"Jesus jumped up and jiggled, Sonny, I never thought I'd see this with my own two eyes! A natural lap dance!"

I'd never have believed it had I not seen it for myself. Sure, you hear about stuff like that on the road, but you always call bullshit on the guy who tells you. Seeing a naked stoic lesbian give a lap dance by instinct alone is like finding the damn Easter Bunny in the dairy aisle at the Quik Mart. After a minute or so, Gibson started to come to. Link was quick to cuff his hands behind the chair before the old bastard knew what was going on. Link scratched the stoic's chin and gave it a snow pea.

"That's right. You did good, darling. Real good. Now come on, we got work to do."

The stoic followed Link over to the safe and got on top of it. Link pulled a candle out of his satchel and lit it, letting the smoke go into the blonde's nose. He whispered something to it, I don't know what, and it started humming. Its hair went up and these blue bolts of electricity started shooting out of it. There was this building rumble and the room got so hot, then everything went dark for a second. When the lights came back on, the door of the safe was swinging open. Not minding the former Senator we almost killed, our test run went off without a hitch.