Hell Is Empty (The Frontier Book 3) by Travis E. Hughes

Author:Travis E. Hughes [Hughes, Travis E.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2017-10-03T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

“He’s over here,” Ed said, waving his hand in the air.

“Fastest gun I’ve ever seen,” Drago said.

“Which one’s Devil Bill?” asked Jane. She stood two feet away from him, but Talbert could smell the whiskey on her breath. Talbert sighed and dropped his head.

“This is the one and only, Devil Bill Talbert,” Ed said, stepping back to give him space. People quieted around them. Then came murmurs and whispers behind cupped hands. Talbert kept his face expressionless, save the annoyance in his eyes.

“Is that true?” Jane asked, stepping toward him to get a better look. The smell of ripe onions and seaweed matched the stale whiskey stench as she did. “The Devil Bill Talbert? The General?”

“War’s been over a long time now,” Talbert said.

“You look awful young to have been a general in the war,” Jane said, waving Chuck the Duck over to them.

“Youngest general in modern history, ma’am,” Drago said with a proud expression.

“Are you his manager?” asked Jane to Drago.

“No, ma’am,” said Drago. “I used to work with Bill. We were once colleagues if you will.”

“Call me ma’am one more time and see what happens!” shouted Jane, droplets of spittle spewing the air around her. Drago stepped back and held up his hands.

“I have no interest in dueling Mr. McQueen,” Talbert said, drawing Jane’s attention back to him. She spun and swayed slightly, her eyes unfocused.

“Devil Bill?” Chuck the Duck asked as he made his way through the crowd to them. “It is an honor to meet you, sir.”

“Name’s just Bill or Talbert,” Talbert said gruffly.

“Yeah, well, Devil Bill will sell way more tickets and promote much, much higher wagers,” said the Duck licking his lips. He spat a wad of Da’akleaf and looked around at the crowd.

Talbert felt her before he glanced up to notice. Adriana Johar and her crew had turned all three drones on him.

“Devil Bill Talbert?” Adriana said. “Now we know why you didn’t want to be on camera. People said you were dead.”

“Okay,” the Duck said. “Here’s what I’m thinking. What time is it?” Duck pulled a watch out of his breast pocket. His suit had once been a nice tailored one, but he’d worn it down to fibers and threads. “Seventeen-fifteen. Okay. What time does the sun set here?”

“The man asked a question!” shouted Jane to the crowd.

“Uhm,” stammered a man. “Around nineteen-thirty, give or take.”

“Two hours,” said the Duck, counting the crowd. “How many people live in this town?”

“I don’t think anyone’s taken a census or anything, but there’s a lot,” said Drago.

“Nice estimate, Drago,” said Roslyn moving around bodies to help negotiate for Talbert. She tried to think of something to interject. “Okay, well, if the man doesn’t want to participate then…”

“Who the shit are you?” shouted Jane.

“I’m Roslyn Fink. I run the Interstellar Peace Keepers agency. Technically we’re a detective agency also, but that’s a mouthful sometimes.”

“What does that have to do with the price of cat shit?” Jane asked, almost yelling.

“Bill Talbert is my employee,” Roslyn explained, pointing at Talbert with her forehead.

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