บท 79: The Hunt and the Hunted
Krix looked around the bar, there was the pocked-faced woman and two men: the one who feverish laugh and one with wild-eyes, leaning on the wall beneath the poster. Butch was sitting on a stool near the bar while two hooded bounty hunters sat alone in the corner, watching, though their face stay hidden inside the cloaks shadows. There were three more, with coon hats and fire red hair, drinking black, frothless beers at the bar. While a man wearing snake boots; half his face covered in black scale, leaned on a cane by the back room door. Wildie and Ron nowhere to be found.
Krix knew it best not to speak out of place. "They were clean kills … trained professionals … bounty hunters like ourselves." Mitch corked his head, mouthing soundless words to him; and Krix to keep the rest to himself. "Never seen anything like it."
Scaleface took a step to his right. Behind him was a boy, about same age as Quincy, with one white eye, the other green a moss. With hair that was black and wavy as veins. He gazed at Krix for what seemed like an hour, though only minutes. His clouded eye whitening with each passing second.
"He's bluffing," the boy said.
Scaleface nodded and laughed, pacing, and swinging his cane. "Thank you, Zachariah … But I don't need you to tell me when a man who's never played a hand of cards is bluffing." He walked loosely, planting his cane into the wood floor with a whack only a few paces away. "But I'd like to know why the great Strawthorn is bluffing … "
Krix didn't need an introduction, he'd heard good a many times of the snake that ran the streets. The one chased others away like serpents hunting rats through the weeds.
"Your reputation precedes you," Krix said.
"And?"
"And," Krix shrugged, "You're much taller … and better dressed … Got a spare coat" The man pointed at the black blotch near his shoulder. "Mine's been stained."
Scaleface hissed as he laughed, shaking his head. "And you nothing like I imagined you." Krix raised an eyebrow. You're much lessss to look at." Scaleface didn't wait for Krix to fire back. "I lost five men who were hunting the bounty, same as you. Gun downed with pristine accuracy. A clean shot. Unlike anything I've ever seen … hardly any mess … An achellet resolver of the highest quality."
"And what's that have to do with us?"
Mitch said, "he thinks they're the pair of NightNgales I had brought in … Wildie and Ron are off trying to prove that I brought them the right people."
"And what's that have to do with us?" Krix tilted his head at Brugar. The big man was fiddling his thumbs, with hands nervous as ever. Damn it … Krix thought, looking at young neolate than to the snake, grimacing. Brugar is the one they read. Krix had always kept a good poker face, but Brugar couldn't lie to a child if he had a gun to his small, egg-shaped head. "We didn't bring in the bounty."
"But maybe you'd run across them … the NightNgales are known to use yearning spells to buy of their enemies."
Krix raised his chin and laughed sharply. "I'm not affected by yearning or love spells …"
Scaleface turned his black eyes on Brugar. "Doesn't have to be you." He then snapped his fingers, and the lying boy came to his side. They both gave one last glare then proceeded to the streets.
"Y'all wait here," Mitch said, walking outside the saloon.
Krix wasn't accustomed to taking orders, he followed the man. "Hey, my Pappy said to wait here—"
"We'll then you better shoot," Krix said, pushing through the doors.
Mitch stood on the porch, peering into the shadows, but like a serpent, the man and his boy had slithered off into the shadows. Even their steps not echoing in the silent night air.
"Damn him!" Mitch spat. "Making a fool out of us …"
Krix walked over to the man and leaned against the railing. "The serpent has keen eyes and sharp ears. I'm not certain you can put much past him."
Mitch turned him, nose wrinkled. "So I take it the NightNgales rewarded you with tickets as well." He chuckled. "Those two bastards, getting involved with the Sheriffs boy like this, they're going to get us all killed."
"Why?" Krix asked, knowing Mitch spoke loosely when under pressure. "Why does Scalesface care about what the Pompies are doing?"
Mitch hesitated, but felt comfortable enough to say, "because the Pompies and the Merkoits are at war … each trying to get their arms into the hands of the Cyoakians, you goddamned fool."
"And how would you know?"
"Because I helped get the first batch of guns in the hands of the Howl Chief." Mitch swore, knowing he'd said too much. It didn't stop his ramble, "Fuck, I've been helping fight them indigenous bastards war for years now … And for who, the fucking Mayor, that's who ... and what do I got to show for it? Nothing … I'm still collecting bounties to make a living god damn living—"
Suddenly a thump broke the silence and Mitch gasped. A rigged, pointed edge prodding from his chest. Krix reacted, shifting low, pulling Mitch to the ground as three more arrows sunk into the bounty bars walls.
A warcry echoed in the night, fading as the assassin scurried off.
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