Rot & Ruin (Rot & Ruin, #1)(92)

“Nah.”

“Then let’s haul it,” snapped Skins to Benny and Nix. “C’mon, kids, Charlie is going to have a lot of stuff to talk to you two about. Should be a pretty interesting chat.”

“A heart-to-heart.” Turk laughed.

“A meaningful discussion,” agreed Skins.

“Let us go,” said Nix. “You can do that. You can just tell Charlie that you didn’t find us.”

Skins looked genuinely confused. “Now why on Earth would we want to do that?”

Benny took a step forward. “Do you know what Charlie did last night?”

“None of my business.”

“You’re with him. You’re helping him do this stuff.”

Skins looked bored. “Is this where you try to appeal to my better nature, kid?”

Behind him Turk cracked up. “Good luck with that.”

“Please …,” Benny said. “We didn’t do anything to you.”

“Who cares?”

“I won’t let you take her—”

Skins suddenly backhanded Benny across the face. It was so fast and hard that Benny was falling before he realized that he’d been hit. He hit the railing with the small of his back and

might have gone over if Nix hadn’t grabbed him and hauled him away. Benny sank to his knees and spit blood and a piece of tooth onto the catwalk.

“Leave him alone!” Nix yelled.

The bounty hunter snatched a handful of Nix’s hair, tore her away from Benny, and slammed her against the station wall.

“Shut up, girlie. You don’t tell us what to do.”

Benny came off the deck in a surge and drove his fist into Skins’ ribs. It was a good try, but he was still dizzy from the blow he’d taken, and his fist merely skittered along the big man

’s side. Skins pivoted and drove a heavy punch into Benny’s back, nailing him squarely between the shoulder blades and knocking him flat onto his chest.

“Try that crap again, kid, and I’ll cut pieces off of you.”

It was all Benny could do to breathe. When he’d landed, his breastbone had struck the broken bokken handle, and it felt like the hard wood had punched a hole through his chest.

“Benny!” Nix cried, but when she tried to bend to help him, Turk grabbed her by the sleeve and pulled her away. The action caused her shirt to ride high and expose most of her midriff.

Both of the bounty hunters whistled and laughed and made comments that were as vulgar as they were threatening. Nix did not give in or give up. She fought them, kicking out as hard as she

could, slapping at Turk’s face, raking her nails on his arms, pounding her fists on his chest and cheeks. Her attack was so sudden and fierce that for a moment the bounty hunter reeled

back, letting go of her to use both hands to block his face. Nix tried to kick him in the groin, but Turk turned his hip and swatted hard enough her across the face to spin her into the wall

again. She hit hard and slid down to her knees.

“Filthy little whore!” Turk growled. His lip and right ear were already swelling.

But even then Nix would not stop. As Benny watched she launched herself from her knees and drove into Turk’s legs, knocking him back against the rail. She made a sound like a hunting cat, a

snarl that started low in her gut and rose up, filtered through rage and humiliation and the certain knowledge of what the future held. Her scream scared the birds from the trees and echoed

off the mountain slope. Turk kept backing away from her, startled and confused by this child who had been frightened and cowering all last night and who was now attacking him with insane

strength and speed.

“Slap some sense into that little hellcat,” demanded Skins. “Screw it … let me do it.”

Skins stepped over Benny and reached to take a handful of Nix’s hair, just as Turk caught one of her wrists and then another. Skins drew a knife with his free hand. “I’ve had enough of

your crap, girlie girl. You don’t need both eyes to fight in the zombie pits.”

That was all Benny could take. Even though he could barely breathe, he dug one hand under his chest and grabbed the broken bokken handle, then jammed the other hand hard against the catwalk

and heaved himself to his knees.

“Leave her alone!” he screamed and with all of the fury and fear that flowed through him, he drove the jagged end of the bokken into Skins’s back. When the sword had snapped, it left a

hardwood stump that was as sharp as a real blade, and Benny threw his weight behind the thrust. The jagged point bit deep into the soft spot above the bounty hunter’s belt, and Benny buried

it to the hilt. Blood ran hot and red over his fist, and Skins whirled and clubbed him down. Benny fell, raising his arms to ward off the next blow, but Skins stood there, gasping like a

fish out of water, eyes bugged wide in unbelieving surprise.

Nix stamped down hard on Turk’s foot and tore her wrists free of his grip, then shoved him in the chest as hard as she could, hoping to knock him over the rail. Turk was so busy staring at

Skins that he was caught off guard, and staggered back all the way to the rail by the ladder, but he did not go over.

Instead, he caught his balance at the last second. Skins dropped heavily to his knees, the impact causing the metal catwalk to ring like a bell. His eyes rolled up, and he fell forward onto