Coyote: The Outlander (with FREE second screen experience) (11 page)

“Eat up.”

Sunshine didn’t have to tell Coyote twice, and she tucked in as if she hadn’t eaten in days. Caesar stared at the meal for a moment before he began to eat.

“So tell me, Coyote.” Sunshine tore off two pieces of homemade bread and handed them to her and Caesar. “What are you doing in our neck of the woods? I assume it’s no social visit to try my chicken stew?”

“I need a weapon, Sunshine,” Coyote answered through her mouthful of food.

“That’s what I figured.”

Coyote shook her head and wiped the grease from her lips. “Not just any weapon. I need a particle beam gun.” Her eyes held Sunshine’s for a few seconds, and the older woman smacked her lips.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help you, girl.” Sunshine shook her head. “I’ve never even heard of one of those.”

Coyote pursed her mouth, unable to hide her disappointment. “I thought you knew everything, Sunshine.”

“Apparently, I don’t.” The old woman scratched her chin and leaned back on her chair. “I’d be interested to see it, if you do manage to get one. I don’t know if you plan on buying it, but when you’re done, come give me a call. I’ll gladly take it off your hands. Maybe trade you?” A greedy glint sparkled in Sunshine’s eye, but her face was still a mask of discontent.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Is that all you came for?” Sunshine raised her eyebrows, placing her hands on her stomach.

“That and the stew . . . ” Coyote squinted at her, trying to figure out what the woman was getting at.

“So you’ve not come to ask me about the rip?” The old woman almost smiled then, and the corner of her mouth twitched.

“The rip?” The subject surprised her, and apparently she wasn’t the only one, because Caesar stopped eating, his spoon raised halfway to his lips.

“Oh, yes . . . ,” Sunshine said with a mysterious air, “I thought you wanted to know about the rip that keeps opening in the same place.”

“I’ve never heard of a rip opening in the same place.” Coyote leaned forward, the stew forgotten, all her attention focused on what her old friend had to say.

“Oh, the rips are mysterious things, my dear.” Sunshine grabbed a pipe from an ornate green box and placed it between her lips. “There are different types of rips. Some stay open forever, creating a doorway between this world and the one that lies beyond. Some lead to more than just one world too, those we call portal rips.” She stuffed the pipe and lit it, a strong scent of sweet tobacco escaping from the smoke.

“I think Pinkerton mentioned a portal rip.” Coyote scratched her nose and tried to remember the last conversation she had. “I’ve never spent too much time trying to find out about them. The Pinkertons are pretty tight lipped when it comes to the rips. I’ve spent too much time focusing on what sort of weapons I need to kill Outlanders.”

“Your father only taught you about the hunting, girl.” Sunshine winked at her. “It’s about time you open your eyes a bit more. Pinkertons ain’t gonna help you. They like to keep their secrets, even from those they work with. Make you figure it out for yourself, that’s what they do. Most folks don’t know jack. Though in all fairness, Phillip and I know a little about the rips—probably more than anyone else I’ve met—but still not enough to give you clear answers.”

“So this reoccurring rip is common then?” Coyote tried to make eye contact with Caesar, but her partner had his brown eyes fixed on Sunshine, as if he were trying to see into the older woman’s soul.

“No, not as far as I know. The permanent rips are pretty uncommon, and I suspect they are only permanent because someone tampered with them.” She raised a graying eyebrow and peered at Coyote with her pale eyes.

“If that’s true, then this rip you’re talking about is probably being controlled as well?” Coyote stated it as a question, and Sunshine nodded in response.

“I would think so, my girl,” Sunshine’s lips smacked on the tip of her pipe, and little puffs of smoke escaped from the corner of her mouth. “I would think so.”

“This is the first time I’ve heard of it. Not even Pinkerton made mention of this.” Coyote placed her spoon in the little bit of stew that remained on her plate, her appetite lost now, and fished a fat cigar from her pocket. “I never even considered that it was possible for anyone to open the rips.” She lit the cigar and rubbed her eyes. “I thought they were just random.”

“I’m sure most of them are. A lot of Outlanders who wander through are just unlucky victims.” Sunshine pointed her pipe at Coyote. “But think about it. So much technology makes it through to this world, and that can’t all be accidental.”

“You make a good point.”

“And . . . do you think you’re the only one hunting Outlanders?” She blew a large cloud of smoke, which obscured her face.

“No . . . the Pinkerton Agency has a lot of different hunters.” A cold chill rand down her back, because she knew that’s not what Sunshine meant.

“Pinkertons are a human agency.” Sunshine narrowed her eyes. “There’s also Outlanders hunting Outlanders . . . ” She waited for the words to sink in and then continued, “How do you think they get here if not deliberately?”

Coyote mulled over Sunshine’s words for a few moments, blowing rings with her cigar smoke. “Have you met any of these Outlander hunters?”

“I trade Outlander weapons. It’s not only humans I do business with.” Sunshine’s voice was noncommittal.

“So you’re saying that there are those on the other side of the rips who can open them at will?”

“I’m saying there are ways to control the rips.” Sunshine shook her head. The wrinkles in her face deepened as she frowned. “I don’t think opening them is as easy as that . . . but I do believe it’s possible.” She winked at Coyote and added, “I don’t think it’s just those on the other side either.”

“You mean there are those who control the rips from here?”

“They could . . . with the right technology, or maybe even magic?” Sunshine wiggled her eyebrows. “Know anyone who could have access to such things?”

Coyote’s mood darkened and Caesar glanced at her, catching her eyes for the first time. He pulled his lips into a tight line, and she knew he was thinking the same thing she was.

“James Westwood,” she hissed, tapping her index finger on the table with frustration. “If anyone has the means, he does.”

“Coyote . . . ” Caesar waved his hand at her to indicate she needed to calm down, and she nodded.

“I know the man,” Sunshine said. “Likely candidate.” She added some tobacco to her pipe and puffed in contemplation. “That damn rip is a nuisance. What strikes me is that it seems to be leading to different worlds. We’ve seen several different Outlanders come out now. That’s rather unusual. When a rip is set, it leads to one world. But this one . . . I just don’t know what to make of it.”

“Will you show us?”

“You’re going to need to be patient,” Sunshine warned them as they crouched in the cornfield. The large stalks rose high above them, keeping them hidden from sight. The older woman pointed up at the sky. “That’s where it opens. Every day, like clockwork. Can’t guarantee something comes out of it though. Most of the time it just opens.”

Coyote shifted her weight, trying to find a position where corn stalks didn’t poke her. “Has anyone else spotted them?”

“Farmer who owns the fields pointed it out to me, so me and Phil came to investigate the rip.” Sunshine pointed toward the large farmhouse in the distance.

Coyote bit her lip and frowned. “It’s never good if ordinary folk know about the rips. If he gossips, he’ll risk people coming to explore. Innocent people could run into some nasty Outlanders.”

“Hank is an old friend,” Sunshine said, brushing corn silk from her blouse. “He doesn’t like peeping Toms at his farm, so he won’t be talking. We told him to come to us whenever there’s trouble with the rips.”

“He knows what the rips are?”

Sunshine shrugged. “We had to tell him.”

Coyote wrinkled her nose and sighed. She didn’t like talking about Outlanders to those who didn’t know about them, but Sunshine had made the right call. If the rips opened up on this man’s land at regular intervals, it was best if he knew what he was dealing with.

“Why didn’t you send word to the Pinkertons about this?” She looked at Sunshine Mary, who spat on the ground.

“Pah,” Sunshine said, her face wrinkling in disgust. “I don’t deal with the Pinkertons. Their bounty hunters, sure, but not with the bigwigs themselves. I don’t trust them. Wouldn’t put it beyond them to confiscate my merchandise.”

“You realize I need to call them in, right?” Coyote hated having to pull rank on a friend. Sunshine’s face darkened, and for a moment, Coyote feared she’d angered the woman, but then Mary nodded.

“Yeah, I thought it might come to that eventually.” Sunshine sighed. “I knew the risk when I mentioned it to you. Part of me is glad to leave this up to someone else, because we’ve been lucky so far, but who knows what could emerge from that rip?” She pointed up again, Coyote followed her finger, but the sky was still an uninterrupted blue.

“Most likely, the Pinkertons will post someone to keep an eye out. He should be okay as long as things don’t get bad, but if they do, they might be inclined to take over your friend’s farm.”

Sunshine shook her head. “Hank won’t like that one bit.”

Before Coyote could respond, the corn around her rustled, and Caesar’s gentle face became visible as he pushed his way through the plants.

“I investigated the area, but there is nothing out of the ordinary. At least nothing
I
can find,” he muttered.

“It’s curious that the rips would open here . . . ,” Coyote mused, tapping her lip with a gloved finger. “Why not somewhere more private? With no human interference?”

“Perhaps whoever is opening the rips has limited control?” Caesar’s face betrayed no emotion, his eyes half-lidded and calm. “If this is done by magic, there must be rules. I believe we would find the same applies to Outlander technology. Everything is bound by certain laws.”

“What a mess,” Coyote sighed, pulling the derby away from her eyes and staring at the sky. The clouds floated by at a snail’s pace, as if they were mocking her with their normal, everyday behavior, and Coyote wished the damn rip would open already, anything so she could move from this spot. The corn obscured her vision, and the wind played with the stalks, creating a menacing swish.

“You said these rips always opened at a set time?” Coyote asked hopefully.

“Well, not an exact time, but it should open between now and a few hours.”

“Hours?” Coyote repeated miserably, and she moved around again in an attempt to get more comfortable. It didn’t work, and her limbs were starting to feel sore. Caesar sat down next to her, his eyes veering toward the sky.

Minutes turned into an hour, and Coyote’s patience was wearing thin. Just at the point when she wanted to give up and leave the whole thing to the Pinkertons, it happened.

There was a subtle sound, more like a vibration than an actual noise. It ran through the cornfield, resonating through Coyote’s body like the rumbling of a distant locomotive. Coyote looked up and saw a light appear in the sky, almost like a permanent thunderbolt, as if the air itself had cracked open like an eggshell. She blinked. The crack grew larger and wider, tearing at the fabric of sky.

“Oh . . . ,” was all Coyote managed to say. She had never seen an actual rip before, and the sight of it fascinated her.

“Like I told you . . . once a day,” Sunshine said. “Let’s hope nothing comes out of this one.” The rip stretched wider until it formed a perfect circle that hung about twelve feet above the ground, one large enough to allow a herd of bulls to pass through.

“Something is coming.” Caesar pointed at a black spot in the circle of light.

“What is that?” Coyote squinted. “It’s not very big.”

“Better keep that gun of yours ready.” Sunshine’s voice was tense, and the older woman pulled her own gun. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with yet.”

“I’ll get closer.”

“Be careful,” Caesar warned, but Coyote was already running toward the rip.

Coyote stood to get a better look at the creature. It was small, about the size of a medium dog, and jumped gracefully to the ground, where it disappeared into the corn.

“It’s loose,” Coyote shouted over her shoulder. “I’ll need your help.”

The cornstalks slapped her relentlessly as she fought her way through, cursing the bad visibility of her surroundings and the pain of the cuts the leaves left on her skin. A strange noise, like a whirring sound mixed with a growl, reached her from ahead. Coyote froze. The sound came again, louder this time, accompanied by a weird clicking. Coyote listened carefully and slowly stepped toward the sound, careful not to make too much noise. The whirring grew louder, and she understood that the creature was hunting her as much as she was hunting it.

Without warning, a black shape burst through the cornstalks. The shape of it reminded her of a large scorpion, only with four legs and no pincers, but the tail looked menacing. At the end of the tail, which was long and curved, sat what looked like a mouth rather than a stinger. Several rows of sharp teeth snapped at her, and she ducked just in time to avoid being bitten. The thing had a head too, which had a second mouth and two beady, red eyes. A strange, black armor covered its body, which added to the scorpion appearance.