Retired Space Marshal Bass Rivers has turned bounty hunter. He was a successful marshal, being the first human in the role. But after losing his daughter because of his Marshal career, Bass tries to make things right.
Excerpt
Bass thumped the door with a few heavy-fisted, clear knocks.
A voice waited on the other side.
“Whataya doing out here, stranger?” After the old woman’s not-so-friendly greeting, Bass heard the distinct click of a Grenado gun being cocked behind the door.
“Begging your pardon for the intrusion, ma’am,” he said politely, pitching his voice to be heard above the wind. “I’ve had the Galactic law on my tail for a powerful long time, but I lost them here in the Outskirts. I’ve been hiking through this cursed rain for hours now, and I’d be much obliged if you’d let me hunker down for just a bit at your fire.”
The woman’s voice was as hard as asteroid debris. “Where ya land your space wagon, fella?”
“’Bout thirty miles south of here. But I don’t reckon any law would come this far from Aurelius.”
The large wooden door cracked open, and Bass stared down the silver-plated barrel of the owner’s handgun. At the other end of the barrel was the steady arm of a gray-haired, pale-faced woman. “Show me your guns, stranger.”
Bass opened up his long black coat and presented the Henry. “Just this ol’ boy.”
“What bank you rob with that old thing?” The woman just about spat on herself as she cackled at the sight of his gun. “I haven’t seen one of those since my old man passed a decade ago! Wassa your name, stranger?” Her tone sounded much less ornery.
“Lee, ma’am,” Bass replied. “Lee Johnson.” He figured a little more charm should be enough for this old woman. “There’s a funny story behind this gun. I reckon the law wouldn’t be so happy that it’s in my possession.”
“Well, come on in, Lee. People call me Mother Moxi roun’ these parts.”
Bass limped into the front room with a feigned hurt leg.
“You alright there?” Mother eyed the limp.
He waved a dismissive hand. “Ain’t nothin’. Had a bit of a rough time gittin’ here is all.”
The warmth of the blazing fire brushed against his face. A small table sat in the center of the room a few feet away from the hearth. When he looked at the far end, he saw another closed wooden door; beside it, a thin staircase made its way up to an upper level. The aroma of hearty vittles simmering over the fire stirred Bass’s taste buds. He hadn’t had a natural-cooked meal since Jennie passed.
“You Balarians rough it for real out here!” he said in genuine awe. “And here I’d thought the stoves we use on Augustos were ancient…”
“You ain’t had no good cookin’ ‘til you’ve tasted real fire-roasted stew.” Bass could hear the pride in Mother Moxi’s voice. “You can hang your wet coat and Henry rifle next to the door.”
Turning, he saw multiple hooks against the wall. He pulled off his soaked coat and obediently hung it up.
“Go ‘head and enjoy the fire.” Mother motioned to the chair next to the hearth as she walked across the room to stir her brew. “Can’t be offerin’ you none ’till my boys get home. But don’t you worry, they should be in any minute now. None of us got any love for Galactic law ‘round here. What did you do to tickle their bad side?”
Bass was fascinated by the woman. Her sons would have had to be gone for months at a time to commit the crimes they were guilty of. Did she keep this house by herself the whole time?
“I was mindin’ my business at that tradin’ center on Albea Prime,” Bass began, spinning out a tale he’d used before, “when these two Marshal jokers approached me talkin’ ’bout some bounty on me for smuggled weapons in the Outskirts. I told ’em they had the wrong guy, but they insisted on taking me in custody. They turned me ‘round and snapped a pair of those new electro cuffs on my wrists—”
“My son told me about those,” Mother cut in, taking a chair at the table. “He said they can shock you to death with those cuffs.”
“Your son’s got the right of it,” Bass said, nodding. “Little did they know, I had a couple of poison gas pellets hidden in my right sleeve.” He grinned. “The bastards marched me to an elevator. I reckon they were taking me to a craft on the roof, ready to fly me off to some prison. But I dropped two pellets behind me, held my breath, and smashed ’em with my boot heels. The smoke from the pellets shot up to all three of our faces. At the first whiff, the Marshals fell out unconscious on the floor. While the smoke cleared, I used my bound hands to search their bodies for the remote to the cuffs.”
Mother’s eyebrows furrowed then loosened. “You still got some of those pellets on you? I could use a heap of ‘em myself!”
“Dunno…think I used them all.”
Her countenance fell into a frown, but Bass didn’t let that deter him. He took a breath and continued his story. “I was frettin’ at the possibility of a security camera in the elevator, of course. I made sure the Marshals were—ah…permanently disengaged, let’s say—and then I took their ship and left the planet.”
Mother jerked her head back. “Mighty dangerous, flying a Marshal’s spaceship on the grid.”
Bass stuck out his chest. She was eating up his story like a juicy citrus fruit. “Well, I didn’t have much choice in the matter—hadn’t gotten around to fueling up my ship, so I wouldn’t have run far. The Marshals’ wagon was juiced enough to get me to Augustos. I ditched it there and made my way out here.”
“How you get stuck with that old thing?” She motioned towards his coat hanging on the rack with the Henry tucked inside of it.
He smiled. “The Henry wasn’t securely hidden on the Marshals’ ship. It’s an unappreciated gem.”
Mother stared at Bass. For a second, he feared his story failed to convince her.
A rhythmic rap at the door broke the silence.
“Hmm.” She rose from the table and drummed a similar beat on the door, but with one extra knock. She opened the door.
Pete and Jasper Moxi walked inside. They stared down at Bass before hugging their mother. They wore long brown coats and wide-brimmed Stetsons, Pete’s brown and Jasper’s black. Bass was relieved that the Grenado handguns at their waist remained holstered. Their faces were the spitting images of the likenesses on the bounty report.
“This here stranger’s name is Lee,” Mother said, giving Bass a cool look. “You’ll like him—he’s also on the run from the damned Galactic law.”
The men continued to gaze at Bass, neither saying a word.
“Lee, these are my boys, Pete and Jasper.”
The brothers took off their wet coats and hats and hung them up, silently. They exchanged a quick glance with each other when they caught sight of Bass’s coat and rifle. Pete smirked at the Henry.
Jasper spoke first. “What’s your story, Lee?”
