Death Cloud by R. J. Batla

Author:R. J. Batla [Batla, R. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: R.J. Batla
Published: 2018-12-26T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 36 – Jayton Baird

PECOS STIRRED SLIGHTLY, then groaned and tried to sit up. “Hi,” I said. “Welcome back to reality. Sorry about the headache.”

He whipped his head around, casting about for threats, but he crashed back down on the bed as his the world spun around him. “Wh...what you doing here? Where am I?”

“You’re in my room.”

“Ow. Why am I —” he asked, freezing when he realized who had answered. He reached up and felt his neck where the large collar still sat, and his face contorted. “You son of a bitch,” he said, shaking his head, his fist balled up, and staring daggers at me. “I believed you. You said you would free me if you won. And now...”

“I did.”

“BULLSHIT!” Pecos screamed, energy crackling down his arms. He pointed at the collar. “You wanted a slave for yourself. You wanted the money I could win, you lying piece of sh —”

“How long have you been a slave?” I asked, yelling so he could hear me, and using telekinesis to push him back down on the bed. He struggled against me, but eventually settled.

Still puffing hard, through clenched teeth he said, “All my life.” Energy arced between his hands and the metal bedrail.

“And you’ve had that collar on the whole time?”

“What’s that got to do with —”

“I assumed,” I said, talking over him, “that you’d like the honor of removing it yourself.” I held up the key to him. His eyes burned into mine, but he didn’t take it. So I threw it onto the covers in his lap. And waited.

And yeah, I’d already taken it off in the arena, but I really did feel it was important that he removed it himself, so I’d put it back on him.

He looked down at the key, then back up at me almost instantly, like I was a snake coiled to strike. His face softened ever so slightly, and I could hear the longing in his voice. “You...you’re serious?”

“Dead serious. Remove your mark of slavery. Be a free man. I told you, didn’t I?”

Pecos’s head jerked back up. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why me? There are thousands of slaves, millions maybe on the West Side. What makes me special?” He still didn’t take the key.

“Unlike the others, you I could do something about,” I said, “in a very public way, that lets everyone know where I stand on the issue, and that I’m not afraid to face the Lords of the West. Or anyone else for that matter.”

Now he looked at the key and slowly reached out to it. He picked it up like it was made of thin glass. “How...” He took a stabilizing breath. “How did you get this? Lord...I mean, Escobares wouldn’t have given this up easily. Or voluntarily.”

I laughed. “Oh, he didn’t want to, but when I called in my bet in the middle of the arena right after the fight, you’d better believe he was gonna pay up. He wouldn’t want to lose face.”

“Bet? What bet?”

I told him the story.

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