Cowboys & Aliens by Joan D. Vinge

Author:Joan D. Vinge [Vinge, Joan D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

12

Jake and the others rode like hell away from the outlaw camp, out across the plain, with no goal in mind except finding refuge from demons. His wrist weapon was still alive and targeting … something. What did it expect him to do now?

Jake heard Dolarhyde shout a warning behind him. He looked back, and saw his gang coming after them—not demons. It didn’t surprise him that the gang was on their tail: he might as well be made of gold … their gold. He’d crossed his own gang. He’d deserved that beating, and worse. But for the sake of the others, he still hoped the demons found his gang before the gang could reach him. He glanced down at his wrist; the weapon was still fully open, ready to fire. That wasn’t right. He looked ahead again, and suddenly realized why.

Jesus Christ, they were riding in the wrong direction.

He could see it coming now: A billowing sand cloud on the horizon, moving inhumanly fast, coming their way. In the harsh light of day he could actually make out the forms of the killing machines, gleaming in the sunlit sky.

It was his turn to shout a warning: He pointed ahead, then waved at the others to turn back, as he pulled his own horse up just short enough so he could heel it around without falling. The others did the same; he saw their stricken faces as they realized they had no real choice left, and picked the lesser of two evils.

As they spurred their horses back toward the gang, Jake wondered what the boys would make of this. His former friends raised their rifles and started shooting. That figured. He guessed they thought he’d gone crazy—he couldn’t blame them for that. Or maybe they just wanted him dead. Either way, he kept his head down and hoped to God nobody got hit before the gang figured out what was really happening.

He heard bullets whine past as the two groups of riders closed. They were well within rifle range now. He told himself it took more luck than skill for most men to hit any moving target smaller than a train from the back of a running horse; he hoped it was true … hoped it was his turn to get lucky. Look up, you stupid sons of bitches—!

The shooting stopped as the gang finally saw what was really coming after them. He was close enough by then to see the looks on their faces when they pulled their own horses up short, trying to turn tail before it was too late.

But it was already too late. The bola ropes began to spiral down through the sandstorm, striking random targets and snatching them up into the sky. Before his gang knew what’d hit them, they were losing members fast, as men were jerked, screaming, from their horses’ backs. The few outlaws who still had working brains started shooting at the flyers. Jake already knew that was useless.

Charlie Lyle, riding close by Emmett’s side, suddenly disappeared as he was taken by a rope that would have caught the boy.

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