Chapter 3: Bitches and Bruises
While Rick-o, Johnny, Names and Krove were putting the hurt on that bunch of Emily Sisters, another group hit the Chem Brothers right where it hurt. And hard.
Des had been oiling her shotgun in the far, dark corner of the Drunken Scavie when a quintet of hard-looking girls stepped through the beaten metal doors. They were all wearing a variety of colors, mostly reds, greens and blacks. All were heavily armed, with knives strapped to arms and in boots, autoguns and shotguns held at the readily. They didn't see Des, just Kurk, sitting at the bar, his heavy stubber disassembled in front of him.
The girl in the middle, who had long, dreadlock style hair, stepped forward, spraying a wire-framed lasgun from the hip. Kurk took about twenty bolts to his back, the rest blowing chunks from the bar, to leave smoking holes. Kurk may have been a big bastard, with metal plates riveted into his trench-coat for protection, but twenty las-bolts would have killed anyone. His body fell backwards with a heavy, metallic smack. Russ, the barkeep, had dived to the floor. Des knew he kept a pair of old Naval revolvers down there for when shit like this happened.
Thumbing one last shell into her shotgun, Des racked the slide and fired the shotgun, the hard stock smashing into her shoulder where a permanent bruise had formed. The solid slug round the shotgun spit out blew the guts and spine out of nearest bitch, spraying blood and guts everywhere. The others saw her now. The bitch with the lasgun spun, her fierce green eyes ablaze with anger. Des racked her shotgun again, the smoking casing flinging away in a smoking trail. The Chem Brother ganger fired again, the scatter shell throwing pellets in a spray that caught two of the bitches, causing them to drop, screaming at a dozen wounds, but the range was too great for the scatter shell to kill them.
The green-eyed bitch, aiming this time, put a spray of bolts at Des, two striking her arms and forcing her shotgun from her hands. One caught her chest, leaving Des leaning against a table, clutching her hands to her breasts. Thankfully, las-bolts cauterized on impact, so the ganger didn't have to worry about bleeding to death.
"Stay under the bar, old man." The green-eyed bitched hissed, as she loaded another power-pack into her lasgun. She walked over to Des's table and flopped down, her leather pants making a slight smack. She grabbed Des's long dyed pony-tail and jerked her head back roughly, making the other ganger gasp in pain. Gritting her teeth, Des looked into the hard eyes of the bitch.
"So, I take it you're Rick-o's girl?" the green-eyed ganger spoke, her voice soft, yet had a vicious, mean edge.
"Kiss my ass, bitch." Des hissed, her left hand beginning to reach down for a trench dagger kept in a hidden pocket on her trench coat.
"I don't think so.' The green-eyed bitch slammed Des's face into the hard plastic of the table, breaking her nose. Des screamed and clamped her right hand over her nose, blood running out from between her fingers. Her left had a trench dagger wrapped around it. 'You see, I'm Jess and my gang is the Emily Sisters and we're takin' over this turf. Because you're a tough little bitch, I'll give you a chance to join us. Whatta say?"
Des closed her eyes, trying to look like she was thinking things over, and fast as a sump viper, whipped the dagger out and smashed the spiked brass knuckles across Jess's face, shattering her cheek and breaking several teeth, while ripping ragged gashes open. Blood flowed down the gangers face. The two Emily Sisters who had been hit with pellets grabbed their injured boss and dragged her out by her shoulders. The last one smashed Des across her face with the butt of her autogun, breaking Des's cheek and shattering her nose. The ganger passed out in a red haze, which was for the best.
When Rick-o and the rest got back to the Drunken Scavie, they found Russ cradling Des's broken body in his gnarled arms. Des had been like a daughter to him. Des was barely alive, her arms broken and dislocated, several of her ribs broken and her face a mass of jagged bone and bruises. She was covered in blood.
Rick-o ran over to Des and knelt by her side, trying not to do anything to hurt her anymore. He screamed at Johnny, "Go get Doc Gruss!" The Doc was some uphiver, but now worked for the Chem Brothers in exchange for protection. If any one could save Des, it was Doc Gruss.
Rick-o leaned over Des, trying not to cry. He had been through so much shit, he had seen his parents killed, but this just struck too close to home. The ganger stood up again, taking off his necklace, a tooth taken from a sump 'gator and pressed into Des's hand and wrapped the numb fingers around it. Turning to the rest of the gang, who by now had heard what happened to Des and clustered into the bar, anger and pain written across their usually hard faces. Every one like Des and none dared touch her, because Rick-o had killed the last one who did. Rick-o said not a word. Everyone knew where they were going and what they had to do.
They had to make every Emily Sister pay for what happened to Des.