Gideon Smith and the Brass Dragon (31 page)

“Everyone off! Use your horses as cover!” ordered Cockayne.

Gideon slid to the ground just as two bullets slammed into his mount. He felt a sudden pang as it whinnied and began to topple.

“Door's locked,” said Cockayne. “Maria? Can you use a bit of that muscle you decked me with?”

She nodded and put her delicate foot to the door, drew it back, and kicked it inward with a splintering of wood.

“Good girl,” said Cockayne. “Everyone inside.”

The shooting stopped for a moment as they tumbled in and Cockayne found an old pew to wedge against the door. Gideon looked around. The church was largely roofless, dust covering the altar and the broken pews. Whatever there had been in the way of gold or decorations had been looted; black Bibles lay like dead birds scattered across the floor. The sun was beating down to the center of the nave, but in the shadows by the door it was cool.

“Now what?” asked Gideon, breathing heavily. In his hand he clutched the cloth bag containing the artifacts that allowed the dragon to fly.

Cockayne wiped the back of his mouth with his shirtsleeve and began to dig in his pockets for bullets. “
Now's
the time for you to come up with one of your clever plans,” he said.

*   *   *

“Do you think Gideon got a good enough start on them?” asked Bent.

Rowena shrugged. It had been more than an hour since Pinch and the Steamtowners had set off in pursuit. “I don't know. I hope so.”

“Do you think Pinch and the Steamtowners'll come back here to finish what they started?”

“Depends if they get the dragon. If they do, then we're in trouble.”

They had escaped the confrontation with no deaths. That was something to be thankful for. And a change had come over Oscar, Hamish, and the others. They had worked together, and they had survived. They seemed to have shed the broken, beaten mien they had worn like masks. They no longer seemed frightened. They were all working together, sawing down trees, collecting food and water, creating a corral to keep Ackroyd's cattle in one place.

The Nameless was standing in the dust in front of the house, peering out into the prairie. He was an odd one. Rowena could quite believe what people said, that he was some kind of spirit or ghost. He seemed solid enough, but there was definitely something otherworldly about him.

She turned her attention to the Spanish girl, Inez, and her Indian lover. Chantico's people had gone back to their settlement with the promise that they would return if needed. Inez and Chantico seemed to be arguing.

Bent chuckled. “She's got him right where she wants him.”

Inez glared at Chantico and stalked toward Rowena and Bent. “He is an idiot,” she spat.

“But you love him,” said Rowena.

Inez sighed. “Yes.” She pulled at the top button of her black shirt. “He gave me this. I asked him where he got it. I thought it was an old Yaqui thing, but he said—”

Rowena stared at the red gem hanging on the golden chain. She said slowly, “Aloysius? Tell me that isn't…”

“Oh, eff,” he said. “It is. It's the Faxmouth amulet.”

Inez bit her lip. “It is important, yes?”

Rowena nodded. “Yes, it is very important. And it should be a long way from here.” She thought for a moment then glanced back at the
Skylady III
.

Bent groaned.

*   *   *

Osterman's shoulder felt as though it were on fire. He held a handkerchief to it that quickly blossomed red with his blood. He dragged himself to his feet, his head spinning, and looked around. Seventeen dead. Shit. He looked at the church. Still, they were trapped now.

“Get two men on every corner of the church,” he called weakly, spitting into the dust. “The rest of you, up front.”

He was losing blood fast, and the edges of his vision were feathered with darkness. Someone passed him a tin cup of water, and he drank gratefully from it. It made him feel a little better, well enough to shout at the closed door of the church.

“Cockayne. There's nowhere to go now. You better just open that door and throw out your weapons, then come out with your hands up.”

He felt the others gathering at his back. He turned to them, staggering slightly. They looked worried. A few of them nudged each other, then one of the younger men stepped forward.

“Mr. Osterman? We've been talking … we're not rightly happy with the idea of going up against Louis Cockayne.”

“He's just a man,” said Osterman, his throat suddenly dry. He looked around at the seventeen corpses. He said it louder. “He's just a man. We've all got a job to do, and by God we're going to do it.”

“The boys, they've been wondering … what if Mr. Pinch doesn't come back? What if we're just doing this for … for no wages, nothing?”

Osterman didn't really have an answer for that. He looked beyond his remaining men, to the open gate and the desert beyond. His eyesight blurred again, then he realized there was dust rising from the hills, a line of dust and sand. He staggered, holding on to the kid for support. He said, “It's all right.” Then he slumped to the ground.

*   *   *

Cockayne peered over the lip of the window, through the slats of the busted shutter, his back to the wall and his freshly reloaded pistols ready.

“What's happening?” asked Gideon.

“Nothing,” said Cockayne. “The guy I got in the shoulder looks like the boss. I think the others aren't keen to go up against us.” He smiled tightly. “Glad to see I've still got it.”

“Where did you learn to shoot like that?” asked Gideon.

“Lifetime on the plains, I suppose. Started off shooting rats on my daddy's farm in Connecticut.”

“Can you teach me? I mean, I've done firearms training, but—”

Cockayne grinned. “Sure I can, Smith. Soon as we get out of here we're going for a long, cold beer, and I'll teach you to shoot the balls off a horsefly from fifty feet.”

“I think I would quite like to learn how to improve my own aim,” said Maria.

“You, too, Miss Maria,” said Cockayne. “Hell, maybe we should even show Bent how to tell one end of a—” He paused. “Shit.”

“What's happening?” said Gideon.

The smile dropped from Cockayne's face. “We got company.”

*   *   *

Thaddeus Pinch climbed stiffly from the Steamcrawler and stepped down onto the plaza in front of the Alamo. His dragon was untouched, but there were a dozen and a half bodies scattered about. Looked like he'd gotten there none too soon. Most of the Steamcrawlers had blown gaskets, and the horses had been ridden into the ground, but it had been worth it.

The idiot he'd left in charge—Osterman, that was it, German name, he'd never liked Germans, no fun in 'em—was bleeding from his shoulder and trying to stand up. Pinch marched over to him, exhausts pumping out steam from his leg and arm joints, and looked down.

“What the fuck happened?”

“Cockayne,” said Osterman dreamily.

“Where is he?”

“In the church.”

“With Smith? And the clockwork girl?”

Osterman nodded, his eyes flickering. “We opened the gate. Thought they was riders from you.”

“Dickwad,” said Pinch, and shot Osterman in the head. It was no less than he'd do for a dog or horse that was injured so badly. It was a kindness. He limped past the dragon to the doors of the old church and coughed, spitting phlegm into the dust.

“Ain't no sanctuary in those church walls, Louis,” he called. “You're back on my turf now, so you might as well do as you're told.” He waited for a response, but there was none. He continued, “We can do this one of two ways, Louis. Either you three come out of there with your hands on your heads, and we sit down and talk all civilized-like, or we come in there to get you. Either way, I'm getting my hands on your little clockwork girl, and my dragon's gonna fly. You understand?”

He squinted and waved his good hand for the muttering behind him to stop while he listened for Cockayne's answer. He saw the smallest movement at one of the windows, then a voice called out.

“Fuck you.”

Pinch pulled back his jaw in his grotesque parody of a smile. “I was hoping you were gonna say that.”

 

23

B
LAZE
OF
G
LORY

“What are we going to do?” asked Gideon.

Cockayne continued to peer through the broken window shutter. He said, “Hey, ain't you supposed to be the Hero of the Empire?”

“Don't get irritable,” said Gideon.

Cockayne took a deep breath. “Sorry. The threat of impending death tends to do that to a man.” He turned away from the window. “The goddamn dragon is so close I can practically touch it.”

Gideon took Cockayne's place at the window. “If only we could stage some kind of diversion, take Pinch's attention away from Apep so Maria could get onboard.”

“How long will it take to get that bird in the sky?” asked Cockayne.

“Once the artifacts are in place on the dashboard, I think I have full control over Apep,” said Maria. “Perhaps only minutes from then, though I have always been somewhat
indisposed
when I have been at one with the dragon.”

“Mmm,” said Cockayne. “Now's the time you want to see Bent come blundering into the place, or Rowena shooting everything up.…” He paused, staring at the dust motes dancing in the shafts of sunlight slicing through the broken timbers of the church roof.

“What?” asked Gideon. “Cockayne, do you have an idea?”

Cockayne stood and squinted down his arm at his pearl-handled revolvers, flipping open the chambers with his thumbs and rotating them, each one the snug home to a shining bullet. He spun the guns on his fingers and slid them home into his holsters. Patting his pockets, he located a cigarette and a match, which he struck on his belt buckle and touched to the end of the tobacco. His face was briefly illuminated under the shadow of his hat, then it fell into darkness again, save for his shining eyes.

“Yeah,” he said. “I've got an idea.”

*   *   *

“No, no, absolutely not,” said Gideon.

“It does seem like madness, Mr. Cockayne,” said Maria.

“Yeah, crazy like a fox, that's me,” said Cockayne. “Now, to save time, let's say you've tried to change my mind and it hasn't worked. You understand what you've got to do?”

Gideon sighed heavily then nodded. “You sure you can do this?”

“Hey,” he said, smiling crookedly. “I'm Louis goddamn Cockayne.”

He went to the door and opened it a crack. Gideon heard a volley of clicks as every gun in the courtyard was turned on them. He felt sick.

“Thaddeus,” called Cockayne. “I'm coming out. Make sure your boys keep their trigger fingers under control.”

Cockayne turned, touched the brim of his hat, and winked at Gideon. Then he let himself out and pulled the door shut behind him. Gideon ran to the window as Maria stationed herself behind the door, armed with half a pew. If anyone tried to come in, they'd get the full weight of her clockwork might for their troubles.

“What's happening?” she asked.

Gideon peered through the window. “Nothing, yet. They haven't shot him, which is a good start.”

*   *   *

“Glad to see you've seen sense, Louis,” said Pinch as Cockayne stopped and took a long drag on his cigarette. “But … where are your friends?”

Cockayne tossed his cigarette to the dust and ground it under his heel, spurs jangling. “Want to talk, Thaddeus. Got a bit of a proposal for you.”

Pinch nodded. “Talking's good, Louis. And I like proposals. Deals. It's just … well, folks who make proposals generally got something to bargain with. Way I see it, Louis, you've kind of already cashed in your chips.”

Cockayne regarded him coolly. He said, “You were always a fast gun, Thaddeus. Leastways, before you started with all the…” He waved his hand up and down. “All this machinery.”

Pinch laughed. It wasn't a pleasant sound. “I know you, Louis Cockayne. You believe the bullshit they say about you. You believe you're the fastest gun between here and Japville. And yeah, before that coyote took my arm off, I'd have planted a bullet between your eyes before you'd even thought about touching your guns.” He paused. “Where's this going, Louis? What's your proposal?”

Cockayne smiled. “Me and you, Thaddeus. Mano a mano. Let's see who's the fastest. You win, you get the girl. I win, we walk out of here.”

Pinch waved his metal arm. “You got me at something of a disadvantage, Louis.”

Cockayne waved his left hand. “I'll fight southpaw.”

Pinch grinned with his metal jaw. “You serious?”

Cockayne shrugged. “Levels the field somewhat. What do you say?”

Pinch ruminated. “You win, you don't get the dragon. You just walk out, right?”

Cockayne said, “If you like, but why worry about it? If I win, Thaddeus, you'll be dead.”

Pinch rubbed his jaw. “Still can't say as I like the odds much, Louis. But say you had as much of a handicap as me … that might be better.”

“What are you suggesting, Thaddeus?”

He grinned. “You wear a blindfold, Louis. You shoot left-handed, and you wear a blindfold. Those are my terms.”

*   *   *

“Surely he isn't going to agree to that,” said Gideon, horrified.

“He does tend to go on about what a fine gunman he is,” said Maria.

“Even so…” He looked at her. “Do you think it's possible?”

“Let us hope so,” she said quietly.

*   *   *

Cockayne lit himself another cigarette and walked over to the far side of the dragon, putting the church behind him and to his right. Pinch's men followed, as he hoped they would, and formed two groups to either side of the two men. This, too, was what he was banking on. With Pinch's men putting their backs to the dragon, it meant more opportunity for Smith and Maria to get out of the mission and get Apep in the air.