Brad the Bad, the most notorious bandit to ever grace the Arizona horizon, was having a surprisingly good day. Probably the first one he’d had in the last two decades, ever since he’d gone west to California in 1849 at the tender age of fifteen.
At the time, his head had been filled with nothing but hopes and foolish dreams, dreams which had been dashed as the promised gold of the rush failed to appear, as his claim was stolen from him and his companions abandoned him, forcing Brad to turn to other, less honorable ways of surviving.
Now, nearly twenty years later, here he was, still robbing and killing as he steadily worked his way east, back to a place where civilization ruled, and the world made sense. All he needed was this one last score and he could leave all his vagabond ways behind him.
Which is why, when he first heard the screams, he didn’t pay much attention.
He’d turned his men loose on the town to pillage what they could, knowing the true wealth of the bank would be waiting for him when he finally got there. Redemption might look poorer than most towns, but it was sitting on a cache of silver down from Colorado, and Brad intended to make it his own.
Silver might be a poor substitute for gold, but after twenty years he’d take what he could get.
Then the screams came again, louder than before. Brad frowned, glancing in their direction. Those didn’t sound like the cries of terrified citizens.
“Boys, go investigate if somethings wrong.” He gestured two of his men onward, then rested a hand casually on his six-shooter. The men glanced at him nervously. “Well? I don’t got all day. Git!”
The desperados moved forward through the street of the town. Laughter could be heard from one of the upper floors, along with the breaking of furniture. Seemed at least some of his men were having a good time. Maybe Brad was worrying over nothing.
His only warning was a sudden blur of black and brown. Then a furry mass latched onto the closest man, blood spraying in an arc as long teeth tore into his shoulder.
The desperado screamed, spinning about, giving Brad a brief glance at their assailant—wouldn’t you know, it was one of those mangy varmints! He’d been sure they’d turned tail and run the second they got a good look at him.
Well, he’d just have to teach these doggies the error of their ways himself. He drew his revolver.
“Hold still! I can’t get a bead on him!”
The desperado either couldn’t hear his leader’s words or was foolishly choosing to ignore them. Brad decided it was the latter. “Suit yerself.”
He pulled a stick of dynamite from his pocket.
The other desperado had been frantically beating at the hound—or trying to, anyway. Seemed like he was doing more damage to his friend than anything—but at the sight of dynamite, gave a yelp and dove away.
Not quick enough. With a delighted cackle, Brad flicked the piece of dynamite forward. As always, the stuff just magically lit itself. He still didn’t know how it did that, any more than he knew why there was always a piece waiting for him when he stuck a hand in his pocket. Didn’t matter. So long as stuff went boom, he was happy.
And stuff went boom, alright. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the stuff he wanted.
Just as the dynamite landed, the dog flickered, suddenly appearing a good twenty feet further away. Then the dynamite exploded, obscuring Brad’s view. He marched forward into the swirling smoke, gun at the ready.
By the time he’d waved it clear, the hound was gone. A set of tracks showed its trail disappearing between several of the buildings.
“Gol dangit, I won’t stand for this sort of thing!” Brad spun around, spotted a trio of men emerging from a building, an older civilian man trussed up and carried between them, his legs flailing at the air uselessly. Brad waved at them.
“You three, put that fool down and get over here! Seems we’ve got a problem on our hands!”
“What’s the matter, Boss?” They dropped the civilian, who let out a moan of pain and lay quivering in the dirt.
“Those hound dogs from earlier, seems they didn’t run off after all. Gather up whoever you can find.”
“And then, Boss?”
“Then, we’re going hunting.”
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My tongue lolled with the excitement that only comes from a near-death experience as I dashed between the buildings. That had been closer than I meant it to be, but it had worked!
Though it had cost me my use of my replication bracelet, unfortunately. That meant another ten-minute wait. I might get to use it again, if I was lucky.
A desperado stumbled out the back door of the building I was passing, and I cut him down using Claw Slash with barely a thought. By the time he let out a howl, I was already past.
You have defeated: Antrodiae Desperado (Basic) — Level 10
100 XP and a Desperado Bounty Ticket awarded.
More shouts behind me as another desperado appeared in the doorway, but I kept running. The plan allowed for a few lightning attacks, but constant movement was the name of the game. Besides, my Claw Slash was on cooldown now too, leaving me few enough options.
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Just as well. As I turned a corner, several cracks sounded behind me, and I felt the soft hiss as the desperado’s bullets almost found my backside.
Actually, one of them might have actually hit me. The meter for my armor ticked up, just barely.
But I could still move, so it was all good. And move I did, turning another corner, looking for... there!
[Boss!] Zapper galloped down the side of a building, skidding to a halt next to me. [They’re coming, just like you said they would! Brad and three of his followers.]
[Only three?] I’d been hoping for one more, to fully take advantage of my baton. Still, three followers would have to do.
That said, my baton wasn’t ready yet. [Keep watching him and let me know if they’re close. For now, we’ll stick with plan B.]
[The... anti-baby pill?] Zapper said, cocking his head.
[No, I mean—just make sure they don’t sneak up on us.]
I was reasonably certain I could outrun Brad and his men—eight legs were more than four, but that didn’t mean they were faster than four—but I didn’t expect I could outrun their bullets, and my blessing would only protect me so much.
Zapper scurried up to the roof, then let out an excited bark. [I see them! Coming in from the left.]
Okay. With that, I turned and dashed in the opposite direction, barking as I went. After all, I didn’t want them losing me entirely.
The stampede of thirty-two feet sounded behind me. Up ahead, the shutters of a window swung open with a bang, and I saw a desperado taking aim. I immediately zigged under an awning, then darted through the open door beyond. Above me came an angry curse.
“He went that way, Boss!”
Inside, my head swiveled about, night vision letting me see the dim interior in perfect detail. A small sitting room, a kitchen just visible down the hallway, and tight stairway leading up to the desperado.
Even now I could hear him stomping his way towards me, so I ran for the kitchen instead. It had been a risk, coming in here, but better a risk than the certainty of being shot from above.
“I hear him! Right through there!” The shout came just as I burst into the kitchen, surveyed my options, then leapt onto the table. From there I dove for a nearby window, left open to let in a bit of daylight. My front paws made it through, but my back half caught on a pile of dishes, scrambling madly as I tried to squeeze through the opening. Almost... Almost... Almost—
The explosion sent me skyrocketing forward, landing in a bruised heap on a porch across the street. I rolled once, twice, then hit the front wall with painful finality.
Everything was spinning as I tried to sit up, failed, tried again on shaky legs. In the corner of my vision, still visible with perfect clarity, my armor’s damage bar ticked up again. I felt it all over this time—not to mention smelled. A small patch of fur was on fire.
Dangit, what I wouldn’t give for access to my cores right about now!
As I rolled frantically, trying to put the flame out, I heard more desperados shouting.
“Boss, Johnaborn was still upstairs! He got blasted all the way to kingdom come!”
“You think I give a wit? Now find me a way to get past this rubble so I can put that damn varmint down!”
One more gone, I thought ruefully, shaking my head to clear it. By my count that should have left about ten men. The number was growing more manageable.
But only slightly. Just then a desperado appeared several houses down from the one currently going up in smoke, spotted me, and gave a shout. “Over here, Boss! Found a path through!”
Time to go. Only, my legs wouldn’t obey me. I tried moving forward, and made progress, but slowly, too slowly.
More desperados poured from the alley, Brad right behind them. “Don’t none of you dare touch him! That filthy pelt of his is mine!”
But I like my pelt, I thought with a whimper. I contemplated scurrying inside my current building, but it’d likely get pelted with another dynamite before I managed to get to the other side.
And I was not surviving another near miss, I knew that.
“Get ready to face me, you—what the bloody hell?” Brad swayed uneasily as two of his men crashed into him. All three went down in a slow-moving jumble.
[Swears!] Zapper said from the roof, before leaping towards the next building. He scampered out of view.
[Thanks, partner!] I shouted, before making for the nearest alley at a quick shuffle. It felt like my strength was coming back, but I was definitely not moving at full speed. I needed to take advantage of the time Zapper had bought me.
Past this building, I found myself back on the wide lane of main street, exactly where I didn’t want to be. Too much open space to cross. Too much chance of an ambush.
Still, I started hobbling across. The bank lay ahead of me, its walls looking more solid than any of the other buildings in town. Perhaps I could shelter there out of sight, regain my breath and let my abilities cool down.
No such luck. Four more desperados boiled out of a building to my right.
With only a second to consider my options, I let loose with my baton, stunning all four and dropping them into the street. Shouts rang from behind them as more men tried to push past their companions, only to find them impassable. I grimaced and hobbled faster.
Okay, six left, I think. Not a perfect use of my baton but could have been worse.
A shot grazed my ear as one of the desperados made it past their fellows. Kill notifications flooded into my mind and my armor meter ticked up further. I resisted the urge to howl in frustration, dove inside the bank, and lay panting on the floor.
There were more yells outside, followed by several shots. Thudding feet ran towards me. With all my remaining strength, I heaved myself to my feet, unsure what I could even do. Maybe get a lucky Claw Slash on one of them before I was overwhelmed?
I braced to jump. The sound drew closer... and Zapper burst through the doorway, trailing flames behind him. They cut off as he rolled across the wooden floor, coming to a stop next to me. [Hiya, Boss! Imagine running into you in a place like this!]
[Zapper, am I glad to see you!] I glanced at the doorway. It was filled with flames, but the wood itself didn’t appear to be catching. At least not yet. Still, it was keeping any enemies at bay. [Did you manage to take any of them down?]
[Um. Let me think. With the one out there, the two on the roof... three?]
I nodded. [That only leaves three left, plus Brad.]
[Oh, that’s easy, Boss! We’ve handled more than that before!]
[Maybe, but... I’m cut up pretty bad, Zapper. If they give me enough time for my baton to recharge, maybe I can stun Brad long enough for us to take him apart. But even then—]
“Heloooooooo in therrrrrrrrrrrre!” The shout cut me to the bone. My head snapped up, even though all I could see through the door were flames. “Pretty clever, hiding in the one damn place in this town I care about, doggies. Pretty damn clever.”
[Ooh, swears.]
[Not now, Zapper.] I dragged myself towards a nearby window, one with its shutters partway open and with a chair beneath. Clambering onto it, I glanced out.
Yep, there stood Brad amidst several dead desperados, with a trio of still living ones standing slightly behind him. He rested his hands on his hips as he surveyed the building in general.
“Unfortunately, this is where your cleverness runs out, dogs.” Brad’s head swiveled about, studying the building. “But let it never be said that Brad the Bad isn’t generous. I’m willing to offer you—”
“What are you talking about, Boss? You’ve never been generous a day in your life!”
“Quiet, you idiot!” One of the desperados slapped the offender, who yelped and rubbed at the back of his head. “Don’t you get it? Boss is trying to trick these doggy varmints into coming out, so we can shoot them easy-like. That way the building and all its silver won’t be harmed.”
“Ohhhhh. Clever, Boss! Real clever!”
Brad let out a long, tired sigh, then turned around. His six-shooter was out of its holster faster than my eyes could blink. Two cracks rent the air, and the pair of desperados dropped dead at his feet. He turned and glared at the remaining man. “Got anything you wanna add?”
The man shook his head frantically. Brad turned back towards me. “Now, as I was saying, I’m a generous man. If you two come out of there without any more trouble, I’ll let you walk out of this town with your skins still intact. If you don’t... well, I’d rather not pick through that building’s rubble looking for my silver, but I’ll do it if I have to.”
He reached a hand into the bag at his side and pulled out a stick of dynamite. “Well, varmints, what do you say?”