The Hound of Hell by Rory Nelson

Author:Rory Nelson [Nelson, Rory]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Action Adventure Arthurian Fantasy
Publisher: Rory D. Nelson
Published: 2019-08-31T22:00:00+00:00

(4)

Seven and Taintus arrive at the last car and notice about a dozen soldiers guarding the Gatling gun. They are taking no chances. As they saunter over to the group, they hope to hide the desperation in their demeanor.

“What the hell gives, fellas? Ain’t’ you supposed to be up in aft deck, guarding the prisoner?” Corporal Benton asks. “Seems like a couple of ninny fucks want to get written up.”

“The captain sent us up here to relieve you numbskulls. We don’t know what gives. If there is a problem seems you must take it up with Captain himself. You ken?”

Benton jumps down from the platform anchoring the Gatling gun. He towers over Seven and glowers at him, hoping to make him flinch and reveal himself as the traitor. Seven doesn’t falter. “Seems the captain also warned us of traitors in our midst. And I’ve never seen you two before. What outfit you hail from, compatriot?”

“The thirty fourth, Victorville.”

He paces around Seven, hoping he’ll crack from the pressure. “A lot of Bana-Gauls from the 34th. Most of ’em ain’t’ worth a bucket of piss and some of them’s even traitors.” He pauses. “That you, cockmonger?”

With caution, Seven moves his hand to the butt of his speed shooter. Benton does the same. Taintus looks around as his heart trip-hammers in his chest.

As he glances around, he notices a depression in the platform. A hand crank keeps the Gatling gun in place.

In one fluid motion, he steps on the depression and pushes down on the hand crank. The monstrous cannon swings around, catching Benton unawares. The motion slams Benton ten feet in the air and off the train. In the distance, a faint yelp echoes.

Seven ducks down a split second before he would have been knocked from the train. As he gets up, he grabs onto the man next to him and twists his neck, killing him. Taintus uses their moment of incapacitation to strike out at two men next to him.

He grabs onto two knives, one in each hand, and buries them into the men next to him. They go down in a bloody, cursing heap. Two men fire at them as they retreat to the back of the large platform. A bullet hits Taintus’ side and blood flows from the wound.

Seven reaches for his guns and fires in rapid succession. As the two men realize they are sandwiched in the melee, bullets riddle their necks and faces. Their bodies slam down with gaping holes of gore, cartilage and bones.

The other men retreat, while Taintus and Seven take cover. A plethora of aimless gunfire rips through the platform and pierces the Gatling gun. They hide in the depression behind the gun, while the bullets eat a crazy zigzag throughout the car.

They look at each other in desperation. Taintus feels the sticky wetness at his side and knows the sobering truth. It was more than just a graze. “Give me cover. I’ll head for the Gatling gun.”

“How?” questions Seven. “We’re surrounded and taking it from all sides.

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