The Gunfighter and The Gear-Head by Cassandra Duffy Page A

her gun from its holster, took
two steps past Gieo to the edge of the roof, and fired once down
into the street. When the ringing cleared from Gieo’s ears
following the explosive .44 magnum round being fired right in front
of her, she heard a man groaning in the street. She jumped to the
edge of the roof and looked down to find Jackson Roy, the hunter
who had asked her to keep an eye out for a power drill, bleeding in
the street, desperately trying to hold his right forearm
together.
     
    “You stay where you are, Jackson,” Fiona
shouted down.
     
    Fiona turned on her heels and was running
back for the roof access ladder before Gieo could even ask what was
going on. Gieo jumped up to follow but struggled to keep pace,
losing track of Fiona before she could even get to the saloon’s
main floor. Gieo ran out between the saloon’s swinging doors, and
nearly got her head blown off when a spray of bullets passed at
Fiona’s height across the plank front of the building. Gieo ducked,
even though the shots were intended for someone six inches taller
than her, and barely caught a glimpse of Jackson standing in front
of Fiona’s car with a steaming Mac-10 in his good hand. Another
report of Fiona’s Anaconda echoed through the street and Jackson’s
right knee exploded in blood and bone fragments. Fiona emerged from
the alleyway on the side of the saloon with her pistol trained on
Jackson’s downed form.
     
    In a daze, Gieo plucked several splinters
from her hair, and began walking toward the scene of carnage. Fiona
had her Wakizashi out and was demanding that Jackson tie it off.
Tie what off, Gieo wondered. She couldn’t see exactly what Jackson
was doing in front of the car, but he seemed to be working a
leather strap with his teeth. Fiona lifted her sword. Time finally
caught up with Gieo’s mind.
     
    “Wait!” Gieo screamed and ran to intercept
Fiona’s sword arm.
     
    Fiona stopped with her sword raised, clearly
aimed at taking off Jackson’s wounded arm. Gieo hadn’t really
expected Fiona to stop simply because she’d shouted it, and wasn’t
really sure what else to say once she did.
     
    “Why are you chopping off his arm?” she
asked.
     
    “Do you think I should take his head
instead?” Fiona answered by way of question.
     
    “What!? No!” Gieo said. “Why did you shoot
him in the first place?”
     
    “He was trying to steal my heads.” Before
Gieo could protest further, Fiona’s sword fell, hacking off
Jackson’s arm at the elbow. The tourniquet, which was apparently
what Fiona had demanded Jackson tie off, stemmed much of the blood
loss, but Gieo still nearly vomited from the sight. Fiona slid her
gun back in its holster, picked up the hand, and swatted it down on
one of the spikes along her grill, impaling it next to the four
Slark heads. At that, Gieo did go ahead and throw up next to
Fiona’s front wheel well.
     
    “Man’s dead anyway,” Zeke said from across
the street, standing out on his balcony to watch the entire show.
“You ought to take his head.”
     
    Fiona sheathed her Wakizashi and picked up
Jackson’s discarded Mac-10. She slid the clip from the hand-held
machine gun, and judged it to be about half-full by the weight.
“You’ve got to the count of ten to get out of my sight before I cut
you in half with your own gun,” Fiona said.
     
    Jackson tried to stand, stumbled, tried
again, stumbled again, and finally made it up onto his one good leg
before passing out, falling flat at Fiona’s feet. She dropped the
gun on his back and flipped the bullets out of the clip like rain
over his downed form.
     
    “Rawlins!” Zeke bellowed. Officer Rawlins
blundered out of the front door of the old city hall beneath Zeke’s
balcony, whipping his head around wildly to find the source of his
boss’s voice. “Get that piece of shit out of Red’s way.” Rawlins
jumped to the task and went about hauling what was left of Jackson
back into the city hall. Zeke looked down at