Dead Men's Harvest

Chapter 44

The man approaching with his gun extended in both hands didn’t look like he’d the strength to support the gun much longer. His face was smeared with grease, but looked very pale between the streaks, and blood pooled on the deck beneath his boots. He was dying but he could still drill the three of them full of bullets before his strength gave out.

Cain had no clue who the man was, but he’d a good idea why he was here. He was a friend of Joe Hunter who’d come to help save Jennifer from the nasty Harvestman. Cain shook his head. Hell, a few moments earlier he might have even stood a chance. The old chaos factor had definitely kicked in.

‘Drop your fucking weapons!’

Cain held his hands out to his side, allowed the Tanto to fall on to the deck. He nudged it away with the toe of his shoe. Baron wasn’t as happy to relinquish his gun, and the man jabbed his barrel at him. Finally Baron allowed the gun to fall to the deck. It clattered on the metal, sliding away as the deck pitched on a high wave. The sudden surge meant the gunman also staggered, and Cain noted that his left leg could barely sustain his weight.

‘Which one of you motherfuckers is Tubal Cain?’ the stranger asked as he shuffled closer.

Cain understood what would happen should he reveal his identity. He jabbed a finger at the tall Russian. The man glanced at the crewman, but he was not taken in. He returned his attention to Cain, looked him up and down. The man could barely focus, being so close to fainting. ‘What’s up, Cain? Too much of a coward to man up to who you are?’

Cain chuckled.

The man lowered his head slightly, peering at Cain from under heavy brows, and suddenly his gaze was fixed. ‘Try laughing this off, asshole.’

The man fired.

Cain jerked, but it was at the scream of the tall Russian as he took the bullet in his gut. The Russian fell to his knees, both hands grabbing at his wound.

The stranger pointed at the mortally wounded man. ‘See, that’s how I feel right now. I’m in the same kind of pain as he is, and that thoroughly pisses me off. So if I were you, I’d stop the fucking wisecracks before I do the same to you.’

Cain wondered why the man hadn’t simply shot him. ‘You’re Walter Conrad’s man?’

‘Was, but I see things clearly now. I came here to take you back to Fort Conchar.’ The man grimaced in agony. ‘But I’ve changed my mind.’

‘So what’s the alternative? A clean death?’

‘That’s right.’

‘For me or for you?’

‘You, asshole.’

‘Wrong!’ Cain yelled.

From out of the shadows to the stranger’s right came another figure and he too had a gun raised.

Confused by Cain’s shout, the stranger reacted too late. He was now faced by three targets and had no idea which one of them to shoot first. He should have chosen the newcomer.

It was the driver, Pete Eckhart, who’d come with Cain from Baltimore. He stepped up close to the stranger and shot him in the side. The bullet hit like a heavyweight boxer’s punch to his ribs and he staggered. His left leg buckled under him and he went down on one knee. Eckhart swung the gun to shoot again, but even mortally wounded the guy still had some fight in him. He brought round his own gun and fired, taking out Eckhart’s groin. Eckhart screamed and dropped his gun, then went down on the deck, the blood pooling around him so viscous that even the pouring rain failed to dissipate it.

‘You goddamn…’ The stranger tried to target his gun again.

Cain was already on the move. But so was Baron. The man flew like a hawk, his hand reaching under his belt as he swooped towards the injured man. Before the stranger could fire again, blue light crackled as Baron jammed the Taser in the hollow under his jaw. The stranger shuddered, a long scream rising from his lips that stuttered in time with the electrical charge racking his body.

Cain came up with his Bowie, and drove in past Baron, plunging the heavy blade between the man’s ribs and into his heart. Some of the charge from Baron’s Taser crackled up the hilt and into Cain’s hand, but he held tight, grinning manically as the light went out of the stranger’s eyes.

Finally both men stepped away, Cain withdrawing the blade with a harsh sucking noise. ‘Well, Baron, that was a bit of a buzz.’

Baron didn’t catch his quip, or if he had, was as unimpressed as usual. Cain tried again, ‘Let’s finish off this pain in the neck.’ He stooped down and jammed the Bowie into the base of the stranger’s skull, then sawed the tip back and forth. He looked up at Baron for approval, only to see that the man had merely busied himself with clipping the Taser back on to his belt. ‘Sometimes I wonder why I bother,’ Cain muttered.

He left the Bowie in the corpse, like it was a marker on the man’s grave. He stood, looking around at the three dead or dying men. The Russian would take a little time to die, but Cain wasn’t the type for pity. After retrieving his downed Tanto, he just knocked Baron’s elbow. ‘Come on. Joe Hunter’s still here. I think it’s time to go and say hello.’

‘Yeah.’ This time Baron did laugh.