The k-slinger slapped her AK-47 into position, ready to fire from the hip because she wouldn’t have time to get into a proper firing position.

  As her finger went to the trigger she stopped. Behan’s eyes told her to stop.

  His gun barked, the bullet whizzing by her and straight for its target.

  Someone just behind her.

  That’s why she didn’t fire. Behan hadn’t been looking right at her.

  She whirled around, going into a crouch while raising her AK and looking down the sights.

  A man staggered into the street some fifty meters away. He looked like he had come out of the alley nearby. He clutched his hand, which drizzled blood onto the dirt. A pistol lay not far off.

  “You’re fired, Derrick,” Behan said. “You don’t work for me anymore. I want you out of town by sunset.”

  “Andy was my friend, and this bitch gunned him down in cold blood!”

  “I don’t call winning a three-to-one fight as killing in cold blood,” the k-slinger said.

  The man turned red. “You damn …” He glanced at the gun lying in the dust.

  “You best be getting along before I make your hands a matching pair,” she warned.

  “You won’t have to,” Mayor Behan told her before turning back to Derrick. “Go for that piece and I’ll shoot you dead.”

  Derrick sputtered, then walked away, still trailing blood.

  “Crazy Joe is gonna hear about this!” he called over his shoulder.

  “That came sooner than expected,” the k-slinger said as she stood up. She turned to the mayor. “Thank you. He would have got me. I owe you one.”

  “Join me and I’ll make it even.”

  “Nope.”

  “Not even now?”

  “Especially not now. I’m going to make my trades and head on out.”

  “They’ll follow you into the wildlands.”

  “In one of your Jeeps? Maybe so, but I know the wildlands better than I know this town.”

  “You’re safer as one of us,” Behan insisted.

  “Somehow I don’t think so,” the k-slinger muttered as she left.

  She was surprised when Crazy Joe didn’t make a move the rest of the day. She spent it holed up in her bulletproof room, eating meals Zeb’s wife brought up to her and watching the square below while Behan’s sniper on the city building’s roof watched her.

  The next morning, when Crazy Joe still hadn’t made a move, she decided to make one of her own.

  She sauntered out into the early morning light. Everything appeared calm. People went about their business under the black cloud billowing out of the tire burning power plant. The k-slinger had noticed it was actually brighter in Tire Town in early morning or late afternoon when the sun was low and angled beneath the cloud. In the middle of the day, the pollution blocked the sunlight.

  On her back she wore her pack. She had the AK-47 slung at her side, ready.

  No one stopped her as she passed the mayor’s office, so she kept on going until she got to the marketplace. She had some trading to do.

  Her pack was full of good gear—some ammo that didn’t fit the guns she used, a pair of nearly new boots that didn’t fit her but the man who thought he could rob her, and the .45 automatic he thought he’d use to do that. She also had the man’s tent and bedroll.

  It didn’t take long to find some market stall traders willing to give her good trade for everything. She stocked up on flour, pemmican, dried fruit and vegetables, and some spare 7.62x39mm ammo.

  People stared, of course. Everyone knew her now. Any newcomers from the wildlands had her pointed out to them.

  But everyone left her alone. She wasn’t even trailed by any of Behan’s men. She figured they were too busy trying to keep control of the town to bother with her, or protecting their mayor from Crazy Joe’s men. Behan’s shooting one of them couldn’t have gone down well.

  Five dead already and another wounded, but Behan still acted like he couldn’t control his second-in-command. Did Crazy Joe really have so much more support than his boss? Did a man who offered nothing but looting and violence seem so much more attractive than someone who offered peace and a future?

  Yeah, that was about the size of it. She wasn’t all that surprised.

  As she finished up her trading, she was beginning to think she was going to make it back to the hotel without any trouble, until she saw the crowd parting down the street. It was like a boot kicking through sand, or a knife through flesh. She couldn’t see what made the crowd cut in two and scatter, but the folks down the street sure could and they wanted out.

  She couldn’t see, but she could guess.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Easing off her pack, she got her AK-47 into the Ready position.

  Crazy Joe came stalking down the middle of the street. To either side, people slammed flimsy doors shut on their shacks or hid behind the tables of the market stalls. He came right for her, gun hanging from his side, not quite ready but ready enough, and stopped twenty meters away next to a vegetable stall.

  The street, which a minute before had been crowded and loud, was now entirely abandoned. The two k-slingers studied each other in silence.

  “You’re creating quite a ruckus,” Crazy Joe said.

  “A ruckus?”

  “Y’all killed three of my men, plus the ones in the pass.”

  “The two at the pass tried to rob me, or more. The other three drew first. The ruckus is on them.”

  Crazy Joe cocked his head. “The two at the pass tried to have their way with you?”

  “They wanted to. Never got a chance to try.”

  “Well then, they got what was coming to them. A fine lady like you deserves respect. You shouldn’t have killed those other three, though. That got me hopping mad. Wanted to kick a puppy. Yes, ma’am, I sure did.”

  “Puppies are extinct.”

  “Sure are. That made me even madder. So I kicked around one of Archer’s men instead. Pretended he was a puppy.”

  “I guess we’re going to have another power cut today.”

  Crazy Joe grinned. “Sure are. Won’t that be fine?”

  “And what are you going to do then?”

  “There’s only one way you’re going to find out, and that’s to join me.”

  “I don’t think your men would want me around, after everything that’s happened.”

  “Don’t you mind about them. I’d love to have you. Imagine what we could do together.”

  “Rubber duckies?”

  “Oh, that would be great too. No, I mean all this!” Crazy Joe waved an arm to encompass the town all around them. “We could rule it all.”

  “Rule it? Looks to me like you’re trying to run it into the ground.”

  Crazy Joe got a confused look. “How else do you rule something?”

  “Silly me. I’m not interested.”

  “Then you got one other option.”

  The k-slinger’s hand moved a fraction of an inch closer to her AK. Crazy Joe’s eye caught the movement and his hands eased a little closer to his own weapon.

  “And what would that be?” she asked.

  “Get out of town by sunset. Don’t come back for a season. Everything will be squared away by then and we can start again like none of this ever happened.”

  “I was already planning on heading out. I’ve done all my trading.”

  “My men at the passes won’t mess with you. They’ve been told.”

  “Lucky for them.”

  Crazy Joe chuckled. “Yeah. None of my men will do nothing in town today either. After that it’s open season.”

  “Behan won’t like you giving orders like this.”

  Crazy Joe snorted. “Behan. Well, so long.”

  Crazy Joe shrugged his shoulder to put his AK back a bit, out of Ready, then moved one hand to shoulder it. The k-slinger eased down, still keeping her eyes on him.

  He turned away, then like lightning picked up a carrot from the stall and whirled on her, leveling it. His lone eye aimed down the vegetable, pointing it right at her head.

  “Bang,” he said.

  The k-slinger blinked. That had been fast. Damn fast.

  Faster than her.

  Crazy Joe took a bite out of the carrot.

  “Good stuff,” he said around an orange mouthful. “Helps with the eyesight.”

  He sauntered away.

  The k-slinger returned to the hotel, packed her bags, filled her canteens, and got ready to leave.

  Just as she finished, a knock on her door made her grab her gun.

  She looked through the peephole and didn’t see anyone.

  “Who’s there?” she demanded.

  “It’s me!” a girl’s voice said.

  “Who’s me?”

  “Cynthia.”

  “Your father with you?”

  “No, I’m alone.”

  The k-slinger cursed, opened the door, glanced both ways down the hall, and hauled the girl inside, slamming the door behind her.

  Cynthia’s eyes went wide. She clutched a few tattered books to her chest as she looked around. “So this is the bulletproof room. I’ve always wanted to see this.”

  “This is no place for you. What the hell are you doing here?”

  To her surprise, Cynthia frowned up at her. “What the hell are you doing running?”

  “Running?”

  “Everyone says Crazy Joe and you had a showdown in the market and you said you’d hightail it to the wildlands.”

  “No need for killing if killing can be avoided.”

  “But you’re a k-slinger.”

  “Only when I have to be, and right now I don’t have to be. I came to Tire Town to trade. Now that I’ve done that, I’m leaving.”

  The girl looked confused. “Where?”

  “The wildlands. Where else?”

  “What’s out there?”

  “Not a whole lot. But at least there I can live in peace.”

  “There’s no peace anywhere, that’s what dad says. Tire Town is the closest thing.”

  “Not anymore.”

  Cynthia glanced at the pack sitting on the bed. “You leaving now?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Can you stay until this afternoon? We’re having a school play. You can come.”

  “A school play?”

  “Yeah. Anansi the Spider. I’m Anansi.”

  “Never heard of it.”

  “It’s an old play. Anansi is a wise spider who helps the other animals out with their problems. The teacher let me play Anansi because I help the other kids with their homework.”

  The k-slinger gestured at the books the girl was carrying. “Looks like you got some to do now. Best go on home.”

  “Will you come?”

  “I need to be over the pass by dark so I can make camp out of Tire Town’s territory.”

  “The school plays are always just after lunch. The parents want us home by dark. We don’t have plays at night like the saloons.”

  “I don’t think those are the same kind of plays you plan to put on.”

  “Will you come?”

  “I really need to get—”

  “Pleeeease?”

  The k-slinger sighed, looked at her pack, looked at Cynthia, and then looked at her pack again.

  “Oh, all right.”

  The girl brightened. “Great! See you at the schoolhouse.”

  The k-slinger let her out and saw her down to the front door of the hotel. There was no way she was going to let the kid walk alone through this dump. After she was gone, the k-slinger stormed up to the front desk, where Zeb was sitting, hands folded over his chest and staring at the opposite wall.

  “What the hell you thinking letting a kid in here?”

  “This is a respectable establishment,” Zeb said.

  “Like hell.”

  Zeb looked at her. “You shouldn’t be seen with the Archer kid. That ain’t healthy.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “I noticed. But I don’t like bullet holes on my front porch. Bad for business.”

  “You won’t have to worry. I’m paying up and heading out this afternoon.”

  Zeb pulled out a ledger and studied it. “Looks like you owe four trade tokens for the meals you had sent up to your room. I’d charge you for the bullet holes but those were Crazy Joe’s fault.”

  “You going to charge him?”

  “Hell no, you think I’m stupid?”

  “Don’t make me answer that.” The k-slinger handed over the trade tokens.

  “It’s been a pleasure having you in our establishment. Do think of us if you ever visit our fair city again.”

  “I’m leaving my bag in the room until mid-afternoon.”

  “Checkout is at noon.”

  “The hotel is empty.”

  “Them’s the rules.” The k-slinger glared at him, and he quickly added, “But we can give you a discount. One trade token to watch your bags.”

  “I just spent all of mine on your dump of a hotel.”

  “What else you got?”

  “I’ve traded everything I brought. Here.” The k-slinger handed over a chunk of pemmican. Zeb nodded and started chewing on it.

  “Pleasure doing business with you,” he said, drooling around a hunk of pemmican..

  “Don’t talk with your mouth full. You look even more disgusting than usual.”

  The lights cut out.

  “Right on schedule,” Zeb said.

  “Another of Archer’s men got beat up.”

  “Yeah. I heard. Sooner or later someone is gonna get killed, and not by you.”

  The k-slinger headed out the door.

  “Where are you going?” Zeb called after her.

  “Figure I’ll take a look around.”

  “That ain’t healthy.”

  “Breathing in your B.O. ain’t healthy neither.”

  She didn’t even make it to the power station.