Condemned (Death Planet Book 1) (14 page)

The leader of the Guards held up dark, battered, metal handcuffs, far too big for a human, but big enough for a bear.

“Put these on, and no-one has to get hurt.”

Brunhilde raised her paws, and cracked her knuckles. She narrowed her eyes, and stared at the Guards. “I’d rather someone got hurt, if you don’t mind.”

The Guard leader stepped back.

As triggers clicked, Brunhilde grabbed the table in front of her, and grunted as she pushed it up on its side. Bolts flew from the crossbows, and smacked into the wood, punching part-way through, until the heads burst from the far side. Brunhilde shoved it their way. The other Guards dodged aside as the table flew past them, smacked into the crossbowmen’s chests and sent them tumbling across the bar in a twisted mass of limbs.

The leader of the Guards grabbed for Princess.

She pointed the revolver at his head. His eyes bulged as she pulled the trigger. The hammer fell, the powder hissed. And nothing happened.

Crap.

The cylinder rotated as she pulled the trigger again, but the gun just clicked. His face twisted into a scowl as he realized the gun was empty.

She smiled at him, and he looked puzzled for a second. Then she swung her free hand, and punched him in the face. She winced as her knuckles smacked into his teeth, and the sharp edges tore through the skin.

That just seemed to annoy him. He glared at her, and his scowl grew more angry as he wiped blood from his lip. He swung his arms and lunged toward her.

She stepped sideways and swung her foot. He grunted as it smacked into his balls. He grabbed for them, and his face went red. Then he lunged forward again.

Princess squealed as she backed into the bar, and tried to dodge his attack. A hand grabbed her arm. She twisted toward him, and his other hand clamped down on her breast. She hit his head with the butt of the gun. It thumped hard on bone, but he just squeezed her tighter.

Something else smacked into his head, and splattered blood across Princess' face. Then the Guard was gone, sent sprawling across the wooden floor beneath the nearest table.

Brunhilde roared. She spun in the middle of the bar, holding a Guard in each hand by his feet. They screamed for a second as they smashed into the other Guards, the drinkers, and the bar furniture, scattering them across the floor.

Then the screaming stopped.

The smarter Guards backed away, or ducked behind tables, as the blood-splattered bodies swung toward them.

Princess dove over the bar top.

D
aniel followed Guy along the narrow dirt street. Grunts, groans and screams came from the windows above. He should just turn around and go, but where? He kept his eyes low, and tried to look as though he didn't want to be there. Not that any of the passing men were showing any interest in him.

“Why are you showing me all these places?”

“Don't be shy. If you expect to survive here, you need to know what kind of world you’re living in. You’re not in Happy Fluffy Bunny World any more. This is Hades.”

“Can't we go somewhere else? I feel sick.”

A woman with a cat's face and whiskers strolled along the boardwalk outside a tall building. The King’s painted eyes stared down above a sign.
Cat House.
The cat-woman's tail curved up behind her, lifting the back of her skirt as she moved.

She smiled toward Daniel, and leaned forward to point her furry cleavage at his face. “Come on boy, just one little shiny for ten minutes with your choice of the King’s lovely ladies.”

He looked away.

“Or his handsome men, if you prefer,” the cat-girl said.

Guy nudged him. “Take a look. You might see something you like.”

“I don’t want to force myself on some girl.” How could anyone do that? Take her while she screamed beneath him?

“This is the King’s Own Knocking Shop. Only the best girls work here. Well trained. Used to letting men do whatever they want with them.”

That sick bastard again. “Does the King run everything?”

“Why do you think it’s called Kingston? If there’s money to be made, the King has his hand in it somewhere. Just take a look around.” Guy glanced toward the cat-girl. ”That’s alright, isn’t it? He’s never seen your place before.”

She frowned as her eyes studied Daniel, then nodded toward the open door. “Five minutes. And look is all you do.”

A naked blonde rushed out of the door. Then stopped, as two Guards grabbed her arms, and pulled her back. One held her as the other pulled a vial from his sword belt and tipped it into her mouth. Her struggles slowed as they pulled her back into the building.

Guy tossed the cat-woman a silver shiny. She grabbed for it, but it flew past her fingers and slapped down into the dirt. She crouched to pick it up.

“Make it ten minutes,” Guy said. He stepped inside.

Daniel couldn’t go into a place like that. He stood on the steps, and looked around. Just ignore everything, so no-one thinks you’re deliberately trying not to look like you’re trying to not go in. Men stared at him as they passed, men with scars, hard eyes, and no hint of humour or humanity on their face. Men who looked like they’d spent all day killing, enjoyed it, and would like to add him to their score, but wanted to do a quick rape first. Men he shouldn't be anywhere near.

A hand grabbed his shoulder from behind.

“Come on,” Guy said, and pulled him inside. He’d be safer there. It was only ten minutes, after all.

The Guards leaned against the hallway wall inside. Open doorways led left and right, and stairs rose at the end of the hall. Guy stepped into the first doorway on the left.

Daniel coughed in the smoke-filled air. Men with roll-ups hanging from their lips looked up as he and Daniel walked in. Then they looked away. There were more interesting sights for their eyes. Naked girls danced in the centre of the room, hair and breasts swinging as they moved. Bare-breasted girls lounged sleepily on thick cushions, their skin soft and shiny, and probably pretty once, their eyes dark and dull, like they were playing a VR game in their head.

“Why do their eyes look like that?”

“Yours would too,” Guy whispered, “if they were selling your ass for ten minutes a shiny. Besides, they brew some shit from plants around here, keeps the girls dopey and compliant. Who wants to pay for a girl who bites his dick off?”

Treated like that, they probably wished they were dead. Even if they were real criminals, not political prisoners, they still didn’t deserve what the others had done to them. And this was where he could have ended up, if Guy hadn't rescued him. It’s where Erica might be, if they’d Condemned her, too.

But what could he do about it? He couldn’t save them. Not by himself. And who would help?

“See one you want?” Guy said.

Was the girl from the pod there? A girl on the far side of the room, leaning against the wall, looked familiar, but she was too tall. Besides, her belly bulged where a baby was growing. The girl from the pod couldn’t have got that pregnant that fast, could she? Wherever she’d ended up, it wasn’t here.

The blonde danced nearby, her long hair hanging down her neck, swinging behind a body that looked no older than his. Her perky breasts wobbled as she moved, and his eyes followed.

Her slim build reminded him of Erica. If he’d met her back home, he’d have been too scared even to talk to her. The EdCamp commissars, and the commissar's kids, got all the best girls. But her eyes were as glazed as the others around her, with no hint of the fight she’d shown out the front.

Guy watched him stare. He smiled. “You like the blonde?”

“Yes, but...”

“Go on.”

Could he sneak her out? The men in the room had weapons, from fists, to teeth and claws, to knives, to guns. The Guards had short swords. He wouldn’t get as far as the front door, if they wanted to stop him.

Then what? He could barely look after himself, let alone someone else. Guy was the only one he could trust, and he was too old, and too cynical, to care.

“I don’t want any of them.”

Guy pulled a pouch from his belt, and shook it. Metal rattled inside. “You sure? I’ll pay.”

“You can do what you want. But I won’t be part of this.”

“You're a virgin, aren't you?”

“What's that got to do with it?”

Guy laughed, put his hand on Daniel's shoulder, and pushed him across the room. “Give her one for me. Be a man.”

She might be a killer, for all Daniel knew. She could have left a trail of death and destruction across the world for decades, in a body engineered to look young and innocent. She might kill him, once the drugs wore off. But, for now, she was still dancing, slowly and sadly, and ignoring him.

Guy pulled her toward Daniel, and placed her hand in his. “Pick a room. And quick, before they throw us out.”

She didn’t try to pull her hand away, or even glance at Daniel. He gently led her toward the archway, back to the hall. He lowered his eyes as he led her through, watching the Guards with his peripheral vision. They looked as bored as before, but they were between him and the entrance.

Guy’s drone buzzed through the door, and hovered near his face. He tried to swat it aside, but it twisted in the air and dodged the blow. He crept toward the stairs. Maybe he could just jump out a window? But would the girl follow him?

Her hand pulled against his. A leather-clad arm held her wrist, and was trying to pull her away.

He grabbed the arm. “Leave her alone.”

Her eyes turned toward him. For the first time, they sparkled as though there might be some kind of consciousness remaining behind them. The corners of her lips moved slightly, almost like the beginning of a smile.

Then the man who had grabbed her pushed her aside. Daniel stared into a face covered with dark fur. A face with big eyes, and big lips at the end of a long muzzle.

Oh, shit. The horse hybrid, from the gang who tried to catch him when he landed.

“Hello, boy,” Red said. “Nice to sssee you again.”

P
rincess crouched in the dark, where only faint beams of light shone through gaps in the wooden floorboards, and illuminated ovals on the rough dirt floor. The boards creaked as people moved above her in the bar, their yells and shouts muffled by the wood. She squealed as the floorboards shook, scattering a thick cloud of dust and a shower of splinters on her.

After she jumped over the bar top, she’d crouched behind it, hands over her head, listening to the shouts, yells, and thumps of the fight, just hoping they wouldn’t kill her before it was all over. That would suck, after surviving all she’d been through since landing on Hades.

Then the barman grabbed her, pushed her into the floor hatch, and closed it behind her. After that, she’d crouched there, in the cold, dark cellar, waiting for the fight to end. Glass bottles were stacked under the steps. With the revolver out of bullets, she grabbed one for protection. It would make a club for the first hit, and a knife after it smashed.

What if the barman wanted her for a slave? That might not be so bad. He was strong and handsome, and that weird face was kind of sexy in a
tough-guy-who-gets-in-fights
kind of way. Unless he planned to sell her to some other asshole. Maybe she could work for him, she'd had to resort to service jobs back home when there was nothing more lucrative on offer.

Bottles of coloured liquids, red to dark blue, covered the floor in one corner. Dark leaves twisted and turned in a glass jar of green water over a thick candle beside them. What was he making there? She leaned over and sniffed, then coughed as the fumes burned her noise. Probably better not to even ask.

Light bloomed from the ceiling. Wood scratched on wood as the roof hatch opened. A familiar dark face stared in. The barman smiled at her, then glanced back as something smashed into the bar. He jumped down, and closed the hatch.

“You doing OK?” he whispered.

She nodded, but kept the bottle handy, just in case.

“What happened?”

“Your friend’s still fighting. And might even be winning. Either way, I figure we’re safer down here. When it’s over, I’ll tell the Guards you sneaked out a window while they were busy. I can convince them there’s no point looking.”

“Thank you for helping me.”

“Couldn't abandon a damsel in distress, could I? Your friend can handle herself, but you looked like you'd need a man.”

“You didn't seem to care about me before.”

“That was when I thought you were just another whore.”

Wood cracked above. The floor shook, showering them with splinters from the floorboards.

“Aren't you worried about your bar?”

He shrugged. “I’ve been here ten years. This is hardly the first time I’ve had to hide in the cellar to get away from a brawl. Shit happens, then I rebuild when it’s over. They pay more for their drinks next time.”

“What's your name?”

“Nathan.”

“You're about the first guy I met since I landed here who hasn't wanted to rape me.”

He stared at her, and smiled. His jaw bone shone in the dim light. “But I should get you out of those clothes.”

The hatch shook, and the wood crunched. Then exploded into the cellar. Princess squealed as splinters rained down.

A Guard's helmeted face appeared in the bright opening.

Then he tumbled forward, head over heels down the steps. His skull crunched as it smacked onto the hard, stone floor. He groaned, and tried to push himself up onto his elbows. Nathan grabbed a bottle, and smashed it over his head. Beer splattered across Princess' chest, and glass clattered across the floor. The Guard slumped down.

Nathan tossed the shattered remains of the bottle aside. “If you’re going to run around wearing a King’s Guard uniform smeared in blood, you’re gonna have trouble.” His gaze slowly fell from her face to her chest, where drops of beer shimmered in the light through the hatch as they rolled down her cleavage. “Particularly if you only wear the pants.”

“I don't have anything else to wear.”

Nathan grabbed the bottom of his shirt, and slowly pulled it up, revealing the dark skin beneath. His muscles twisted under his sweaty skin as he lifted the shirt over his head, and slid it along his arms.