Chapter Nine
Rynn, Mama, Ireena, and Ivy took the secondary roller to Mister Shooty's mansion, and I chose to drive alone because of all the heavy artillery I needed to carry. I had a good night sleep while I held Rynn for the entire night, and awoke around six o'clock in the morning. Mama prepared us a nice breakfast, but I spent a little time packing my roller full of guns, ammo, and small explosives. I had Irocuz's favorite weapon with me called the Gangbuster; it was a specialized detonator with a sticky projectile that stuck onto its target, and then exploded after five seconds. When it came to my weaponry, I didn't play games. In addition, I had my specialized, Tripleshot Fragger, and it was a deadly, an undeniably dangerous weapon. It fired in a three round burst, and the last shot burned everything within its path.
Recently, I purchased a bolt action sniper rifle called the BAS-7 Derailer, and I could put a bullet center mass over two thousand yards away. It was one of my favorite, least messy weapons in my arsenal. The rest of my guns left a massive amount of devastation, and if the Busy Baker Boys resided in the old ruins, then I planned on burning it to the ground.
When we arrived at Mister Shooty's mansion, I purposely left most of my guns in my roller. But when Rynn stepped out of her buggy with the rest of the family, I placed a gun on her inner thigh. I had a small twenty-two caliber pistol attached to my right, upper ankle and on the inner part of my upper thigh. I didn't expect either of us using our concealed weapons, but I didn't know what to expect. Threats came in all shapes and sizes in the Badlands.
Rynn's thick, orange apricot hair looked good in braids, and Ireena dressed her head fashionably. "You look really good, Rynn," I said as I kissed her before we entered into the facility. Mama had the large plate of truffles. I carried Ivy on my shoulders, and Rory met us at the entrance to the massive backyard with the large swimming pool. She was only about five foot two, long black hair in a single ponytail. She had on an Irathient tribal gown, but she wasn't exactly an Irath. She grew up with two Irathient siblings, raised by an Irathient mother for a number of years, and had several half Irathient siblings. Her Irathient mother lived in Defiance and didn't want anything to do with Mister Shooty because of his penchant for killing. Nolan and a band of rowdy soldiers attacked Yosemite National Park where she lived, killed her parents, and if not for Mister Shooty, she would have died. He saved her, adopted her, and raised her like a warrior. All of the Shootys' were trained in military fighting techniques, and I trained with them too when I lived in Arkansas. Rory was very white as far as skin tone, but not like a Castithan. Nevertheless, she suffered skin rashes and burns from direct sunlight, and when she was a young girl, she caught sun-sickness on more than one occasion.
"I come to Defiance to see Rota all the time, Tommy, but you're never around anymore," Rory said. Her hair was long, and she wore it in the traditional, very well structured Irathient braids. Most of the women at the event had similar hairstyles out of respect for the Irathient tradition. Even though Mister Shooty wasn't an Irath, he raised several full Irathient kids, half Irathient kids, and one human girl in the Irathient tradition. Due to the war, the terraforming, and so on, we were all children of the Badlands. We were making up the culture on our own, and I had hoped by the time my children were grown, we would have had all the details of our new world sorted out.
"I'm in and out," I said, "Sophia acts crazy if I call her Rota," I said with a smile. "She'll correct me on the spot."
"Me too, but until she changes it in a court of law, I'm calling Mama, Rota," she said.
"You know I spend most of my time on the farm?" I said with a smile. "Give us a holler and we'll all go out for a bite to eat or some drinks." I felt sorry for the Shootys when it came to their Mama, Misses Rota because she abandoned them several years back when she was only about fifteen because of Mister Shooty's compunction to kill people. He was some kind of elite soldier in the beginning of the Pale Wars, and he had a lot of innocent blood on his hands. I recall Irocuz hating him for a long time, but completely forgave him for the atrocities that happened in Olmec, Mexico years prior.
"So, Rynn. How's the baby?" She asked with a smile.
"He's beating me up at night, but he's doing well," she said.
Naria walked around in her bathing suit and had a white towel over her body. She was probably about twenty-seven now, and she kept herself in fantastic shape. As soon as she walked up to me, she said, "Where's Irisa?"
I gave her a quick hug, and said, "She was injured on the job, Naria. I wanted to bring her, but she wasn't up to it."
"Well, we can get together at any time," she said, "There's no reason to be strangers. We're kids of the Badlands, and need to stick together."
"That's true," Rynn said.
"I was never surprised when you two married," Rory said. "Tommy, you were so smitten with Rynn."
Rynn laughed. "I was quite smitten with Tommy too."
Naria chimed in and said, "We were all smitten with Tommy, but he only had eyes for you, Rynn."
"That's true," Mama said, "That just shows you Irisa is something special."
The aroma of barbeque pow meat permeated throughout Mister Shooty's compound when we walked up to the area. Ireena and Ivy changed into their swimsuits, showered, and played on the shallow end of the pool. Nearly one hundred people meandered around the area chatting and talking about pastimes with Mister Shooty. The sky was thick with clouds, but the heat raged; it was blurring at times even without the sun. I took out my handkerchief, wiped the sweat from Rynn's forehead, and she sat down at one of the tables to rest her feet. When I wiped the sweat from Rynn's face, she pursed her lips, and then I kind of laughed.
"What?" I asked with a smile.
"You're making all the women jealous because their men aren't as caring and giving as you," she said. "You make this ole' Irathient girl happy."
I laughed. "It's effortless," I said, "I care about you so much that I do what I do without any effort whatsoever."
Mama walked over to us after she dropped off the pan of truffles to Bixby Baker, a Liberata who worked directly for Mister Shooty. He was the guy who set up my wine business and made it viable. He had a knack for such things. Bixby stood near the two fire pits on the far side of the grounds and barbequed the pow meat. Rotisserie pow was my idea of Antarctica.
"Damn, that pow smells good," Mama said with a smile. "It's been a minute since I've had rotisserie pow."
The bottles of Tommy's Specials were on every table, and there was something about having my brand of wine on display. It had my name on it, and it made me feel some kind of way. But at least five people at the party were wealthy businessmen, and it felt good to be one of them. Bixby waved for me, and I immediately walked over to him. He looked tattered and old-and worn. He was up in age, and I could tell.
"I heard what happened to Irisa," he said with a grimace. He opened the lid on one of the pows and checked it for a moment. "Are you okay?"
I looked at him for a minute, and then said, "I will find out who hurt my paramour, and execute them with extreme prejudice."
"You're such the Ark Hunter, Tommy," he said, "You be careful in those Badlands."
An array of food was on the tables in the front including Rynn's truffles. "Eat one of Rynn's truffles? It's like a taste of Antarctica."
He reached over, pulled back the foil, grabbed one, and then popped it in his mouth. He closed his eyes, and a look of serenity came over his face. "Oh, my! This is truly heavenly."
Mister Shooty walked over to me wearing an old-world, sports suit, and he still looked fit like the early years. His attire demonstrated one serious truth about the man: my version of an important event and his version of an important event weren't the same. "Tommy, you didn't have to dress so well for this event."
"It's honoring the man I admire the most, sir," I said. "When you send invitations to an event, I automatically think I must be at my best."
When I walked back over to Rynn, she looked at me for a second, and said, "What?" I placed my right hand on the back of her neck.
"We're overdressed," I said.
"That's obvious," she said, "But aren't we always overdressed at these events?"
I laughed. Mama laughed. Rynn kissed the backside of my right hand. I watched Stahma Tarr on the other side of the field with Datak, and they were also dressed well; but when it came to the Castithans, they always had on the best attire, especially when it came to Stahma, a woman from the highest ranking.
Mayor Rosewater and Jeb Nolan walked into the event, and from what I could tell, they were dressed quite well too. When it came to Mister Shooty, truly a man of wealth and means, we always dressed in our finest attire. It was between twelve and one when we gathered around the tables to eat. He had a team of waiters of all species serving us. The people hollered over Rynn's truffles. The funny part about the whole deal was I didn't get one of them, but I was happy that so many people had the opportunity to taste her baking skills.
Nolan sat across from me, the Mayor was next to him, and then Datak and Stahma. Rynn sat next to me and Ireena was on my other side. Usually, Irisa would be on my left. Mama sat next to Rynn. Bixby was on the opposite end of the table to my left while Mister Shooty was on the other end. I stuck my fork into the delicate meat when Datak said, "You smell that?"
"What's that?" I asked while I made an attempt to chew my food.
"It's a metallic smell," he said.
Quickly, Nolan looked under the table, and then said, "Tommy, back your family away from the table." I immediately helped Rynn up, and we backed away. Nolan guided everybody away from the table but told Mister Shooty to stay in place. I realized quickly that the bomb was on his end of the table, and if he moved, the whole table would blow up.
"We need a Cold Fusion Weapon," Nolan said. He was underneath the table looking at the explosive device. I realized immediately that I was going to have to reveal more about myself. I had a gun with the ability to freeze objects solid. It could shoot a beam of liquid nitrogen onto a threat, and freeze it in place. It was called the VBI Cold Gun, and if I pulled it from my roller, then the Mayor would know I delved into deadly weapons. But since it was Mister Shooty in danger, I took my family to their vehicle and sent them on their way. I returned with the VBI Cold Gun and handed it to Nolan.
"I'm not saying shit," he said as he looked at the weapon. I stood next to Mister Shooty and watched Nolan as he froze the bomb. "Okay, Tommy. Back away."
"Okay," I said as a ran across the field.
I watched the events closely from a safe distance. Nolan raced across the field, and then after a few seconds, Mister Shooty ran across the field, and I immediately realized that he was barely human. He must have been moving at thirty miles per hour because when the blast happened, he was nowhere near it. The entire dinner was ruined, but we didn't have a clue who would want to kill Mister Shooty.
Most of the Defiance people left quickly except for Nolan and me. We began looking at video footage of the area that Mister Shooty had, but we didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Mister Shooty looked at the tapes with us while we were in the security office of his compound. When we walked out the office, a Liberati flew through the air and fired a Votan blaster at him. The Liberatis were dangerous creatures; they were deadly on all accounts. I hadn't seen one in years. The species were derived from the Liberata, but genetically enhanced, crafty, and beautiful. I pulled out my Po-Tech pistol, fired on the Liberati, but the creature moved fast. When she turned around to fire her weapon again, I shot her in the left shoulder, and she dropped her weapon. Quickly, Nolan moved in on the woman and stepped on her good arm. I grabbed his cuffs and placed her under arrest.
"Be careful," Mister Shooty said, "The Liberati are dangerous creatures."
"She's a Liberata?" Nolan asked.
"She's genetically enhanced," I said with a grimace. "They live over one hundred years, and fully grown by the age of five."
"Really?" Nolan asked. "Why haven't I heard of them?"
"The project was classified," Mister Shooty said, "When the government nixed the project, they ordered them all killed. I helped them escape."
"But why are they trying to kill you?" Nolan asked.
Mister Shooty walked in front of the woman, and then she said, "Tell them how you slaughtered us. Your grandchildren!"
"That's not what happened, child," he said, "Are you of my blood?"
"Yes," she said, "I'm the daughter of Derrick Shooty Jr.," she said.
"Your father told me to never visit him," he said, "I've stayed away out of respect."
"Did you try to kill my father?" She asked.
"It wasn't like that," he said, "Some bad guys tricked me into attacking your grandmother. I didn't know my sons were in the mask, and we battled. I nearly killed your father, but April stopped me. She showed me the truth." Mister Shooty looked over at Nolan, and said, "Let her go."
"But, sir. She tried to kill you," he said.
"My name is Kali Shooty," she said, "I'm of the Shooty Dynasty."
Later…
I grabbed my VBI Cold Fusion weapon from Nolan, and then I said, "If I don't return, please take care of Irisa." He looked up at me for a moment. "I love my paramour."
"I know those monsters killed your baby, but do you even know who did it?" He asked.
"The Busy Baker Boys," I said with a grimace. "I'm just finishing what I started. They attacked Irisa for whatever reason, but I'm going to take them off the map."
"I heard of them," he said. "They were killers."
"They still are killers," I said with a grimace. Kali walked down the steps of the house, and she was kind of short.
"Did you say the Busy Baker Boys?" She asked.
"Yes. Do you know them?" I asked.
"Yes. They're miscreants out of Oklahoma," she said. "There's a lot of them."
"Well, I'm going to kill as many of them as I can," I said, "They killed my child."
"So, you're going on a suicide mission?" She asked.
"It is what it is," I said.
