Phoenix: Paying the Devil Part 5

The devil comes walking.

The bombs ripped through the complex as if someone had tossed small suns onto the ground. The explosions took out a few of the huts with guards in them. They died in a flash of heat, not knowing what was happening as they were resting. Now they rest forever. A couple of the bombs had been placed under the towers causing them to come crashing to the ground, killing anyone in them or around them.

                Zisbuz set one of the bombs near the house, blowing out the window, a bit of the house, but not killing anyone in it. He didn’t bring down the house; all he wanted to do was sacred anyone in it to run.

                The guards started to shout orders rushing from their places to the house to get to the Duke. They didn’t care about anyone else, shooting anyone moving against the fires from the bombs.

                The slaves rushed out of the main hall opening fire against the daze and wounded guards. Zisbuz started to pick off anyone who was shouting orders thinking they were the ones in charge. Soon, the guards stop trying to give orders to one another.

                A group of them blasted out of the house, making a mad dash for the jumper on the pad near the house. The Duke would get off the ground raining down fire on the slaves as he fled. Unknown to him Nesma had deactivated the ship’s weapons system.

                Large fires shot up into the air as the family and the four guards raced for the jumper, with the sounds of the firefight echoing all around them. Screams of dying men could be heard from the huts, the fires, and within the flames.

                The two guards ahead of the Duke came to a haul making the old man run face-first into him. He rubbed his nose, backing up from them, cruising as he did so, “What are you doing?”

                Nesma leaned against the ship, making sure the guards could see her. She kept her hat down and a hand on the hilt of a plasma pistol.

                The Duke looked between his men snarling at her. “Who are you?”

                “I’m just a simple wanderer,” Nesma said, stepping off the ship looking at the two guards. “You two,” she pointed between them,” can leave. All I want is the Duke.”

                “Sorry, ma’am, we ca ---” The guard speaking drop to the ground with a spike in the center of his chest, Nesma gun smoking from her hip. She glared over at the over man.

                “You want to die for the Duke?” Nesma asked.

                The man dropped his gun, taking off running, followed by the two men behind him. The Duke yelled threats at them all as they climbed over the wall, and then he went back to Nesma, who had rushed up to him. She pistols wipe across the face breaking his nose and knocking him out cold. She stared down at his body.

                The cries of the children forced her to look up in the dark, seeing the terror in his family’s eyes.

                “Please, don’t hurt my children,” the wife begged.

                “I’m not a monster like your husband, ma’am,” Nesma said, side-stepping and nodding at the ship. “Get the hell out of here.”

                As the jumper took off the pad, Nesma walked beside Zisbuz, and they head back for the house with the Duke. Most of the guards had fled once they saw the ship take off, knowing the Duke had left them to their fate. Those who made over the walls lived; anyone else was gun down by the slaves, along with all the wounded crawling out from the huts.

                Zisbuz tied the old fat man to a chair in the bedroom on the house's second story. Blood poured down his face as he groaned from the pain but hadn’t woken up yet. They heard a few blasts from the plasma rifles outside, but the slaves didn’t dare come near the house for the most part.

                Zisbuz went outside with the thunder of a ship breaking overhead. He dashed to meet the person coming down onto the pad as Nesma tossed a cup of cold water on the face of the Duke. The sudden smack of cold water shot him awake, with him panicking against the ropes.

                “What? Where?” The Duke stopped under the fear when he looked over at Nesma, standing beside the door. “I’ll double whatever they are paying you.”

                Nesma grinned, “That’s what I love about people who put their love in wealth, not knowing the love of riches will be their ruin.” She didn’t move. “All your money doesn’t do much against a spike in the belly, now does it?”

                “Then what is this about?” The Duke asked with the hate leaking from every word.

                “I got paid to tie you to a chair,” Nesma said. “I even took a discount for the job too. I love hurting slave masters.” She took a step forward, letting her hand fall on the hilts of her guns. “You want to know what your life is worth to me.”

                “I don’t care.”

                She nodded, “Good, that the spirit.”

                “Kill me and get it over with,” The Duke said.

                “You didn’t listen, did you?” Nesma said. “I was paid to tie you to a chair, not kill you.”

                “Why?”

                “Do you remember the asteroid X-Ray 32?” She asked, taking a rag off the nightstand beside the bed. She started to clean off the blood on his face.

                The Duke said softly, trying not to grunt under the pain, something his mother taught him when he was a little. Never show pain when someone is trying to take care of you. “Not at all.”

                “That shame,” Nesma said, being kind while cleaning the blood off. “A virus got on the asteroid where your slave company was working instead of paying the taxes to the Empire to have a medical unit come to save the slaves.” She backed off from him. “You had your ships lock down the asteroid and blast it into a nearby sun.”

                The Duke rolled his jaw.

                Nesma tossed the rag at his feet. “Do you remember now?”

                “I do,” he said, staring at her, and then a hard knock came from the door. Nesma opened it, letting a thin woman come walking in carrying a case of medical instruments. She sat the case on the bed, opening it to an array of knives. The Duke tried to look into the box, but he couldn’t see them.

                “This Mary,” Nesma said, nodding at the women,” her family was on X-Ray 32, and she is my benefactor on this job. She paid well to have you tied this chair.”

                “It is nice to meet you, Tony Bischoff,” Mary said, stepping to his side and smiling down at him.

                Nesma tipped her hat, “I’ll leave you two to it.” She went downstairs into the kitchen, where Zisbuz sat eating some leftovers from the Duke’s unknown last meal. She dug through the cabinets as the screaming started from above and found a bottle of the hardest nectar. She sat across from her best friend, pouring three shots, handing one to Zisbuz, taking one for herself, and put the other on the edge of the table. They knock back their shots, planning to get a little drunk until the screaming stopped.

Hours later, right before the sun had rolled back over to this side of the world; Mary came down covered in blood from head to toe. She said nothing going right for the shot and tossing it back with shaking hands.