Whispering Nickel Idols

61

Morley peeled off near The Palms. He needed to clean up for the evening trade.

I was squeezed up inside a borrowed covered goat cart with Chodo and his wheelchair. Saucerhead and Harvester Temisk pulled. Renewed weakness had overcome me soon after we escaped unnoticed from the Tersize Granary, with a battle between Green Pants guys and wannabe looters warming up around the corner.

So now another stolen cart would turn up outside my place.

Singe hurried ahead to alert the Dead Man. Complaining about her cold, wet tail as she faded into the distance.

Occasionally, I suspect Saucerhead of being less dim than he pretends.

My nap ended when he backed the cart up suddenly-bang-into the corner of a building. The cart’s tongue rose slowly, putting me at increasing risk of getting dumped into an icy mess in the mouth of a dark and fetid alley.

A voice said, “How about you grab back onto that cart, Tharpe? Otherwise, you could get hurt.” I didn’t recognize the voice.

Saucerhead let me know. “You kidding, Fish? I’m on a job. I ain’t gonna let you mess it up.”

Fish? That would be Fish Bass, then. One of Rory Sculdyte’s less daunting associates. A manager, not a serious physical threat.

“Plenty, get Temisk. Bobo, Brett, spank Tharpe if he interferes. And see what’s in the cart. Chodo Contague his own self, I’ll bet. Because where would Chodo be if he wasn’t with his lawyer pal? Rory wants to talk to you, Temisk. Damn it, Tharpe-” A meaty thump interrupted. “Shit!”

Harvester Temisk squealed. Suggesting Saucerhead had laid a good one on Plenty Hart.

Saucerhead said, “You try to run, lawyer, you wake up wishing you was dead.”

Meanwhile, I dribbled out the back of the cart, counted arms and legs to make sure I hadn’t left any behind, then unlimbered my head knocker and iron knuckles.

I heard grunts and thuds as Tharpe exchanged love taps with Rory Sculdyte’s infantry. There was some chatter farther off as people gathered to be entertained. The cavalry didn’t arrive.

I checked the situation from ground level. Saucerhead had gone into action on the side of the cart where it butted against a wall. So, although he was cornered, nobody could get behind him. And I had room to go to work.

I sucked in a bushel of air, bounced into the contest. I smacked a startled Fish Bass between the eyes, whacked Harvester one that put him down and discouraged him from taking a powder, then popped Fish again so he wouldn’t interfere.

I approached Saucerhead’s dancing partners from behind. “Can I cut in?” Bobo Negry was no problem. Saucerhead had hold of him with his left hand, using him as a crutch. Iron knuckles to the back of his head shut him down.

Which left Brett Batt. Brother Batt had a big mouse over one eye, a bloody nose, and several split lips. And was having the time of his life hammering on Saucerhead. Tharpe was going to lose this one. He was too exhausted to fight much longer.

My first mighty swing missed Brett. My second was a glancer that did little but get his attention. I didn’t have much go left myself.

Brett flailed behind him, knocked me down, resumed demolishing Saucerhead.

I put everything into a whack at Batt’s right knee.

Good enough. Brett yelped. His leg folded. Saucerhead launched a roundhouse kick he’d saved for the right time, connected with Batt’s left temple.

Two more kicks and a few more love taps from my stick and the wide load went to sleep. Finally. He would enjoy aches, pains, bruises, a headache, and a bad limp for days to come.

I got my feet under me. “We’ve got to get out of here.” I checked the others.

Fish Bass had him one thick skull. He was a hundred feet down the street and gaining speed, though unable to navigate a straight course. Harvester Temisk was inclined to make an exit of his own, but his world was spinning so briskly he couldn’t keep his feet under him. I tossed him in with Chodo, then asked Tharpe, “You all right, man? You look like shit.”

“Just shut up and get me to your place.”

“But-”

“He got me in the goolies, all right? Go! We got to disappear.”

Yeah. Word was spreading. I hadn’t heard any whistles, but Watchmen would be closing in. Let them find nothing but broken Sculdyte henchmen. And better hope none of the gawkers were civic-minded enough to follow us.

We ran into Singe on Wizard’s Reach, tail in paw, coming back to meet us, a block from where the Dead Man would be able to offer some protection. A swarm of shivering pixies accompanied her. Saucerhead and I had kept one another going while making sure Harvester didn’t escape. And he did try.

“What happened?” Singe asked. Melondie Kadare hovered behind her, trying to keep warm.

“Ran into some bad guys. His Nibs ready to bring us in?”

“Yes. But-”

It hurt to talk. Still, “We got to hurry. Then this cart needs to go away. Fast. People will be looking for it.”

“So move if you need to move. Mr. Tharpe should get somewhere…”

“I think it’s going to snow again.” We resumed trudging.

“What? What the hell do you mean, Garrett?”

“I mean you ought to calm down and-”

“Look out!”

I was supposed to look out for Teacher White, leaping out of cover with wild eyes, wilder hair, and no obvious awareness of the misty drizzle. He looked like he had been living on the street. But he did come equipped with a fully loaded, cocked, safe-catch-off war surplus crossbow. It looked huge from my downhill end. A wild grin full of bad teeth shone behind the weapon and a seedling beard. “You ruined me, you son of a bitch! But I got your freakin’ ass now!”

A man ought not to get so worked up he forgets what he wants to do. I know. I overthink all the time.

I never broke stride. Teacher swung his aim to track me. Melondie Kadare darted into his face, stabbed him in the tip of the nose. His eyes crossed. Melondie’s companions buzzed his ears.

Teacher let go the crossbow with his left hand. I placed a long jab on the back of the hand he’d raised to his nose. He yelped. Tears blinded him.

He dropped the crossbow. It discharged. The bolt whizzed away, ricocheting off brick walls.

I said, “Go home, Teacher. Better still, go somewhere where Rory won’t look for you. Lay low. The Sculdytes won’t last out the week.”

“You broke my nose!”

A good pop in the snot locker has a way of clearing the mind behind. “You’re right. And if you don’t want it getting uglier, disappear.”

Anger and humiliation hadn’t abandoned Teacher, but his nerve had. He limped away, holding his nose, glowering.

Saucerhead hadn’t said a word or done a thing. He glowered back. He was not in a good mood. He’d have bloodied somebody if he’d had the strength to do anything but keep on putting one foot in front of the other.

Teacher kept moving. Melondie and her friends buzzed him, kept him going. Singe collected the crossbow. “Damn! This thing is heavy.”

“Dump it in the cart. It’s illegal. We don’t want to attract any attention.”

A sense of foreboding came over me as we approached the house. But I didn’t see even one obvious watcher.