Author's Note: All properties are the rights of their respective owners, Dynamite Entertainment, Rockstar, etc.
Started a new Cyberpunk 2077 playthrough with the launch of Phantom Liberty, and it's so good that it may turn into a problem.
ian12091995: Thanks.
Alright, it's time for the big run into the belly of the beast, hope y'all enjoy.
She-Devil of the Frontier
Chapter 10: Dogs of War
Eyes peering out from under the wide brim of her new hat, Sonja gazed upon the walls of Fort Cassidy from a vantage point atop a nearby spot of high ground. The midmorning sun shone upon the bandit camp; illuminating the guardsmen who stood on the ramparts, whom Sonja had spent the better part of the last hour watching pace along their routes. Walker sat upon a rock, puffing idly on a cigarillo as the pair waited in silence for their compatriots to arrive.
Hands idly running along the weapons hanging from her waist, Sonja sensed a presence approaching the pair and turned to see Marshal Cooper, shotgun in hand, leading a group of 10 men, all wearing stars over their hearts and armed with their own rifles. "Sonja," greeted the Marshal in his usual, gruff manner before he turned to the Bounty Hunter and the men exchanged nods, "Joshua."
"Marshal," returned Walker as he stood and stamped out his cigarillo.
"Are your men ready?" questioned the Hyrkanian as she looked them over. They were a motley crew, to be certain, but all their faces bore looks of determination. "It will be swiftness and decisiveness that wins the day. There can be no turning back."
"Agreed, if these bandit scum run, we'll have to run them down like the dogs they are. If they dig in, we smoke 'em outta their holes," answered Cooper through clenched teeth. His gaze, full of contempt, turned to look out upon the walls of Fort Cassidy.
Sonja looked about, "What of the charlatan? Has he turned craven at this final juncture?"
"Patience, Calamity Dame," advised Walker, "Give him a little time to pull through. He just doesn't have the same… eagerness that you do."
Crossing her arms, Sonja did not contest the point, and kept a vigilant watch on the bandit fort while waiting for the arrival of her unconventional allies. Not long passed until she heard the clattering of the merchant's wagon approach and come to a stop behind the hill, out of sight from Fort Cassidy. West Dickens began ascending the hill with Irish in tow, the pair arriving at the top and short of breath. "Lady and Gentlemen," greeted the pretender as he raised the spyglass he held in hand and peered through it.
He panned the scope across Fort Cassidy, and Sonja, in her impatience, made to snatch it from him, only for a hand from Walker to stay her feet. After a few minutes of the man's observation, he lowered the glass and declared, "It is time . We must go."
"Why? What is happening?" pressed the Hyrkanian as she ripped the glass from the hands of West Dickens. Pressing an eye to the lens, Sonja sought to discern what the tonics merchant had seen.
"Seth has managed to get himself inside," announced West Dickens to the group, and Sonja soon spotted the man atop the ramparts, dancing and flailing his arms about. "But we can't leave it too long, or they will soon realize how very curious he is and remove him from the premises."
Agreeing with his assessment, the She-Devil passed the spyglass to Walker, who likewise peered through it to see what she had. "Or slit his throat and watch him bleed to death," drawled Walker as he handed the scope back to West Dickens, "Crazy sumbitch."
"Well yes, but for a minute, he will delight and amuse them," countered West Dickens, "And that is when he'll get us inside." There was a moment of silent acknowledgement, each member of the posse making one final check of their arms as West Dickens addressed them. "Marshals of the law, when the shooting starts, take that as your cue to start awarding each other medals."
"Huh?" mumbled one of Cooper's Deputies.
Before Sonja could strongly object, West Dickens clarified, "I mean, take that as your cue to get inside and clean up the mess."
"Oh!" exclaimed the man, nodding emphatically.
"All I care for is Gath, it is vital he be stopped," growled Sonja, able to feel the anticipation of battle stir her blood.
"Simon too," grunted the Marshal, "The man is a stone cold killer."
"Simon is but a pawn of Gath. If just he were to perish, Gath would merely find another to replace him," corrected Sonja. Looking back at Fort Cassidy, the Hyrkanian wondered aloud, "The question remains: Which will win out? His pride, or his instinct for survival?"
Gritting his teeth as the stagecoach rocked over a bump in the road, Walker braced himself against the Gatling Gun hidden in the back of the Stagecoach. Looking at Sonja, he could see that the Hyrkanian was no more comfortable in the cramped confined of West Dickens modified wagon. Stuffed in with the bulk of the gun, the boxes full of loaded ammunition for it, and the pairs own small arms kept close at hand, it wasn't the most pleasant ride Walker had ever experienced. "That scoundrel Seth had better not let us down," groused the She-Devil as she too clung to the Gatling.
"He won't," replied Walker, sounding as calm as he could manage despite the circumstances.
West Dickens pulled open the small window and yelled inside, "Once we're inside and I've lulled our adversaries into a false sense of security with some beguiling sales patter, I will give you two the signal."
"What signal?" asked Walker, "We never discussed any signal."
"The moment you hear a sharp rap on the side of the wagon, rise like the phoenixes you are and start shooting like you've never shot before!" called back West Dickens. "This is it! We're drawing near now, the moment of truth. Once more unto the breach, dear friends. This is going to have to be the best performance of my life. I hope my nerves don't get the better of me…" rambled the Salesman. "I'll be honest, I'm a little jittery. What about you two? Sonja? Joshua?"
Seeing that the Hyrkanian was making no effort to answer, Walker did. Nose scrunched and memories of the distinctly unpleasant taste of West Dickens tonic were at the forefront of his mind, "It reeks of miracles back here," he drawled.
"Thank god!" sighed West Dickens in obvious relief, "Now be ready with that machine gun, I'll be a sitting duck out here." The man then went suspiciously silent, and just as Joshua started to wonder why, he felt the stagecoach begin to slow around him until it came to a complete stop and began to back up. Shifting, Walker peered through the cracks in the panels and saw the walls of Fort Cassidy loom over them.
Tensing as the stagecoach came to its final resting place, Walker could hear Seth's distinct, excitable voice. "Hey! Hey there! Come on in! Come on in! Welcome to my humble abode, hahaha!" he cackled.
As the wagon came to a creaking halt, the two hidden passengers shifted subtly, tensing as they moved to lower the wagon's panels and spring their trap. "Greetings, my good men!" bellowed West Dickens, prompting Walker's breaths to become short and shallow as his fingers furled and unfurled near the grip of his Schofield. "What would you say if I said immortality was at hand? What would you say if I told you I could teach you to fly? What would you say if I told you I could turn a man into a beautiful woman?" Shifting slightly, Walker peeked out to see that there was a wall of men gathered about the stagecoach, right where they wanted the bandits. They made for a tempting target, but the Bounty Hunter held his nerve.
"Yes!" cried West Dickens, "But no more! Gentlemen, I bring you wisdom from the East! I have here, in this wagon, some of the finest goods, the best medicines, and the newest inventions available for you and your families!"
"Do not oversell it you fool!" hissed Sonja, and Walker shot her a look, but silently agreed as West Dickens prattled on.
"Exotic trinkets from the far reaches of the earth! Elixirs that give vigor and strength!" Walker could hear the old charlatan's laugther, "And… for you men of… physical skill and athletic physique, this miraculous elixir can keep the muscles supple and relax the chords. It loosens the joints and gives a feeling of vigor and freshness to the whole system! Why, some men have reported to me that, after drinking it for one month, they can chew through steel!"
No sooner than the last word had faded than there was a knocking on the wooden side of the stagecoach, and Sonja and Walker both sprang into action. Standing, they threw the side panels over, the wood folding over until just the steel reinforced sides remained standing, coming right up to the top of the tripod that held the Gatling Gun's forty-pound bulk. Behind the weapon was the grim-faced visage of Tombstone, one hand muscling the gun down to draw a bead on the gathered bandits, many of them remaining frozen where they stood. Wrapping his right hand around the crank on the side of the gun, the Bounty Hunter snarled as he wrenched the handle around, getting the barrels to start spinning and feeding the cartridges to the firing pin, which struck the first round and spat the slug into the nearest bandit. Arm whipping the crank around, Joshua churned as many rounds out of the gun as he could, sweeping it across the gathered bandits as it thundered with each shot.
Sonja ducked out of the way, allowing Joshua to sweep the muzzle of the Gatling across the gathered bandits, cutting down those who stood still like chaff. Some ran, and as the gun fell silent, Walker could hear the shouts of other renegades trying to band together. Coaxing the gun up and taking aim at the fleeing man, Joshua waited until Sonja jammed a fresh box of cartridges into the top of the gun before he resumed his manic cranking, peering over the bronze bulk of the Gatling to watch the dirt kicked up by the flurry of bullets he was sending downrange, and carefully walking his successive shots into the backs of any fleeing bandit he saw running through the open yard inside the fort.
The gun quieted despite the still turning barrels, and Sonja stuffed another magazine into the loading gate while Walker continued to crank, and firing resumed immediately. Bullets streamed up onto the ramparts, blasting the men who had rushed to snipe at the pair inside the wagon from the elevated platforms, slugs tearing through the wood and men alike. Spraying indiscriminately, Walker raked the whole fort with bullets, scarcely letting up as Sonja swiftly swapped ammo boxes into the ever-hungry Gatling Gun.
It was only because the machine gun had paused that Walker heard the whizzing of bullets coming back at him. His eyes saw the puffs of smoking coming from the guns of the bandits that had survived the initial onslaught, and the Bounty Hunter leveled the Gatling at the biggest group of them before cutting loose again. Churning away, the spinning barrels of Gatling let out enough bullets to tear through the wooden wall and the bandits hiding behind it before Walker raked the barracks indiscriminately, gunning down the unfortunate soul who chose that moment to make a run for it.
Letting off the crank for a second, the Bounty Hunter saw a flash of movement in the corner of his eye, whipping his head, and the Gatling Gun, around to take aim at the bandit sprinting down the side wall of the Fort. A trail of bullets chased him, but Walker ran the gun up against the limits of its traverse before he could gun the man down. He made to reach for a revolver, but before he could pull the pistol, a thunderous report rang in his ear as Sonja loosed a shell from her shotgun, the volley of shot knocking the man off his feet.
The temporary distraction proved enough for the remaining bandits to find their balls, because men and shots seemed to pour out of every small structure lining the walls of Fort Cassidy. Bullets ricocheted off the steel plate fastened to the stagecoach or sailed overhead, Walker able to do little but grit his teeth and wait for the Hyrkanian to jam the next box into the Gatling Gun. Under fire, she fumbled with the metal magazine before finally jiggling it into place and gave it a smack to encourage the first cartridge into the waiting chamber of the gun.
Throwing the crank over, Walker coaxed the Gatling Gun back to life and sent more lead down range than was coming back at them from the bandits. Squinting, Walker tried to fire accurately, but through the muzzle smoke, dust, and splinters that was a tall task, even for the Bounty Hunter, and he resorted to indiscriminately spraying a hail of bullets across the whole fort, only making a brief pause for Sonja to swap in the next box of ammunition.
The sudden eruption of gunfire on the rafters up to Walker's right had Tombstone swinging the gun up to see that the Lawmen had arrived. They'd ascended to the ramparts and were sniping at the bandits who had holed up in the barracks. Relinquishing his hold on the Gatling Gun, Walker turned to Sonja and shouted over the gun battle, "Let's get in there!"
Answering with a vicious grin, Sonja leapt off the stagecoach and charged headlong into battle, the She-Devil unleashing her pent-up fury on the remaining defenders. The Bounty Hunter kicked the lid off a box in the wagon and scooped up the bundle of dynamite inside before following the woman, darting between what safe havens he could find while picking his way across the courtyard. All around him, gunshots rang out, the lawmen exchanging fire with the bandits, a few of which continued to send bullets in the general direction of West Dickens' stagecoach. Walker had to step over rubble, debris, and fallen bandits on his way across the yard, but he soon was near enough to be able to hurl the explosive.
Making one last dash, Tombstone slid behind the perforated remains of a stone wall and drew a match, striking it against the stone. Bringing the flame to the fuse and igniting it, Walker looked over to Sonja and held up the dynamite for her to see. The Hyrkanian's eyes widened and she drew her Colt, slipping out from behind a pillar and loosing off a few shots towards the bandits and drawing their ire. While the bullets flew at Sonja, Walker responded by lobbing the explosive at hand, the sticks rolling until they came to rest against the wall of the barracks, the fuse burning ever shorter.
Ducking back down and jamming hands over his ears, Walker braced for what he knew was coming, but it didn't do him much good. The blast, so close to him, was deafening, dust and stone chips washing over him even as he pressed himself to the stone wall, wincing as his ears rang violently.
Slowly regathering his wits, the Bounty Hunter eased the pearl handled Smith & Wessons from their holsters and stood tall. "I'm givin' you boys one chance!" he called through the dust and debris, "One chance to come out, with your hands up, before I come in." Letting out a cough, Walker thumbed back the hammers of both guns before striding towards the hole ripped in the side of the stone barracks.
The dust settled to reveal a figure standing against the wall, blood streaming down his shredded shirt to the hand that clutched a trembling pistol. When he saw the gun start to come up, Walker raised his own weapon and fired first, the bandit clutching his gut as he keeled over. Stepping over the body, the Bounty Hunter peered the ruined remnants of the barracks, the bunkbeds that had filled the room pushed up to barricade the nearby door, and some of the frames had been reduced to splinters and their mattresses to fluff by the dynamite.
Squinting, the Bounty Hunter sidestepped behind the stone wall just as the room erupted, bullets tearing through the space Walker had just vacated while the Bounty Hunter worked his way around the barracks. When he arrived at a window, Walker took aim and fired, methodically working his way through every man he could see in the sleeping quarters, each Smith and Wesson alternatively spiting out a .44 caliber slug. Some bandits turned to the window, only to be the next to fall to the Bounty Hunter's well aimed shots. Those who didn't fell where they stood, the veteran Bounty Hunter making short work of Simon's men.
When his guns were fully spent, the Bounty Hunter ducked down and flicked the weapons open. Dumping spent casings as more gunshots rang out from across the fort, Walker looked out to see Sonja striding across the yard, Colt in hand firing up at more bandits emerging from another cranny of Fort Cassidy. Walker watched her go as he reloaded his pistols, seeing her and the Lawmen locked in a gun battle with this new group of renegades.
Now reloaded and ready, the Bounty Hunter returned to the hole in the wall and peered into the thick haze, Walker saw a flash of movement and raised both guns, firing his left pistol at the shadow before snapping off a shot from his right in the direction he saw the shadow move. Taking a tentative step forward, a wisp of movement in the corner of his eye had the Bounty Hunter twisting around and firing a pair of bullets by reflex, a pained scream answering him. Sidestepping a shattered bedframe, Walker sought to finish off the man he'd shot, but barely made it past the bedframe when a gunshot deafened him.
Ducking on instinct, the blast from the shotgun tore through the bedframe, peppering Walker with splinters as he raised and fired his Schofields one after the other, the quick pair of shots double tapping the man in the torso, causing him to slump back. Wary, Walker scrambled away from the scrap, clambering over a bunk right as the door leading into the fort was thrown open and three men burst in guns blazing as they fired randomly into the room, muzzle flashes dimmed by the gun smoke belched from each barrel while bullets slammed into wood, stone, and mattresses alike.
Walker dropped down, laying on his back and rolling under one of the bed as shots rang out, only when the gunfire quieted did he lean out and level his Schofields. The No. 3s barked their retort, firing one after the other to cut down the bandits as Walker furiously worked the hammers, emptying the cylinders in a flurry of fire and smoke.
Before he could make a move, heavy footfalls had the Bounty Hunter turning around to see a bandit emerge from the shadows, charging straight at him. Curling up, Walker groaned in pain as a boot slammed into his back and the bandit fell upon him, fist coming down into his gut as Tombstone struggled to get free. Thrashing wildly, Joshua jammed his guns into the man, but pulling the triggers only dropped the hammers on empty chambers, but the metallic clicks did get the man's attention.
A pair of big, beefy hands wrapped around Walkers, twisting and pulling on the pistols the Bounty Hunter held. Joshua relinquished his grip on his beloved weapons, and the bandit he was wrestling with stumbled back into another bunk. "Die you bastard!" roared the bandit as he leveled the Schofields at their former wielder and yanked the triggers, only for the empty guns to remain silent, "The hell?"
But the Bounty Hunter paid him no mind, he spotted the body of another bandit laying on the floor nearby and dove for the gun next to it. Scooping up the pistol, Joshua whipped it around and brought the palm of his left hand down on the hammer and squeezed the trigger, seeing the bandit dodge to the side as the gun failed to fire a shot. Eyes widening, Walker fanned the hammer frantically, hoping one of the chambers held an unfired bullet, but each one came up empty, and the remaining bandit dropped Walker's Schofields to lunge for another gun.
Seeing the man scoop up a double barreled shotgun, Walker dropped the pistol and dove behind cover as he heard the hammer drop, and no thunders report echoed through the barracks. Poking his head up, Tombstone saw the bandit staring down at his faulty weapon before both men searched the floor for a loaded gun. Walker spied a repeater and leapt at it, scooping the gun up and working the lever to throw the hammer back as he leveled it at the bandit, who came up with a pistol, and squezzed the trigger, only for the hammer to strike an empty chamber. The bandit was met with the same result as he tossed his revolver aside and looked to the ground between them.
Following his gaze, Joshua's eyes fell on a pistol on the wooden floor, and both men dove for it at the same time. Walker's hands got ahold of the gun and tried to level it at the bandit who wrapped his hands around the barrel and tried to coax it back on Walker. Grunting, the Bounty Hutner strained to thumb the hammer back and wrench the grip around to point the gun at the bandit, and pulled the trigger. The gun bucked in Walker's hand, and he was met with a scream as he saw the bandit clutch a bloody hand while the Bounty Hunter thumbed the hammer back and fired again, only for his heart to drop when the hammer dropped on an empty cylinder.
Seeing his last chance at life, the bandit leapt for another gun and Walker had no chance of getting there first. As the bandit came down on the gun, Tombstone pulled his Bowie knife from its sheath and leapt at the man, driving the blade through his back and into the ground, twisting the Bowie until the squirming finally ceased.
Breathing heavily, Walker yanked the knife out of the bandit and tucked it away before toeing the body over and picking up the pistol he had gone for and inspecting the weapon. "Empty," drawled Walker as he eschewed the gun in favor of his own pair of Number 3s. He heard the distinct rattling thunder of the Gatling Gun outside and rushed to the stagecoach.
Ignoring the rock chips that flew past her face, Sonja stood and raised her revolver at the last bandit on the ramparts, taking careful aim. The Hyrkanian pulled the trigger. Her shot flew true and struck the man, and she watched him tumble from his perch and crash into the unforgiving ground below. Gun still trained on him, Sonja's eyes watched for any signs of life, and only when there were none did she turn back to the barracks Walker had rushed into.
Before she could take a single step, West Dickens cries echoed through the fort. "Oh! We've got company, lady and gentlemen!" declared the charlatan, waddling urgently through the courtyard without regard for any bandits still hidden within the walls. "These scoundrels have got reinforcements riding this way!"
Sonja looked up at the Marshal, and saw one of his deputies rush to the wall and peer over it before shouting, "Oh my sweet lord above! There must be a hundred of 'em!"
The Hyrkanian's eyes fell on the stagecoach still parked at the gate of Fort Cassidy, and the Gatling Gun mounted atop it. Holstering her revolver, Red Sonja bounded across the courtyard, making a beeline for the machine gun as fast as her strides took her there, racing against the oncoming horses she could hear beyond the walls. On the ramparts above, the Lawmen rushed to take up positions to ward off this counterattack.
Clambering into the wagon, Sonja knocked the ammunition box in the gun aside and picked up a fresh one from the crate alongside the Gatling. Stuffing it into the slot atop the brass receiver of gun, Sonja then wheeled the gun about its pivoting base until it was pointed out the fortress gate. Sonja's hands gripped the weapon, fingers wrapping around the crank handle as she watched the dust cloud come up the hill ahead of them, approaching Fort Cassidy.
When the first horse was silhouetted atop the rise of the earth, Sonja muscled the crank handle forward, pushing against the resistance of the gears inside the Gatling Gun until the first bullet reached the firing pin. The gun buzzed violently as Sonja worked the crank with greater speed, coaxing rounds out as fast as she could while directing the stream of lead into the scattering group of horses. Some of the animals fell, their riders tumbling off and trampled under hoof by their comrades while the Hyrkainan poured lead into them.
The scattering bandits' horses jumped over the stone walls and wooden fences that broke up the open ground before the gate while Sonja swept the gun across the field. Unable to keep the grin off her face as she cut down these brigands like chaff, Sonja's rampage was only halted by the expenditure of all her ammunition. Hastily ripping the empty box from the top of the gun, Sonja snatched up the nearest box of bullets and slammed it down into the slot, right hand already back to working the crank.
Bandits fell, either by Sonja's Gatling Gun or the rifles of Lawmen above, but some made it outside the Hyrkanians wrath and drew near the gate. When one stepped into the gap in the wall, Sonja swung the gun down, not ceasing her cranking as bullets kicked up dirt with each impact until they cut through the bandit, tearing the man nearly in half from the barrage.
But he was not alone, and that was the moment the ammo box emptied, leaving Sonja vulnerable as the barrels continued to spin to no effect. Leaning in to rip away the spent ammunition box, Sonja saw another man emerge from the gate and ducked as he fired his gun at her. Reaching for her own pistol, the Hyrkanian fired a shot that struck true, and the bandit clutched his stomach while Sonja pulled the hammer back and fired again. Her second shot sent the man's head snapping back before he fell to the ground, only for two more men to burst out, guns aimed and shots flying past Sonja's head.
Rolling out of the stagecoach, the Hyrkanian picked herself up off the ground and pressed herself to the armored panels of the wagon. Stepping out, the She-Devil raised her revolver and took careful, aimed shots at the bandits, ignoring the return shot that struck the stagecoach as she gunned down the brigand with the last shot in her revolver. Ducking back, the Hyrkanian flicked the loading gate of the Colt open and worked the rod under the barrel to eject the spent shells, the last piece of brass falling to the ground before she heard the approaching footfalls.
With no time to load fresh cartridges, Sonja shoved the gun back into its holster and reached for the sword on her hip. With the vibrating hum of steel against leather ringing through the air, the Hyrkanian raised her blade in a high guard, bringing it down on the first man to come around the wagon, slashing him across the chest and causing him to spin to the ground. Pulling the grip back to her hip, Sonja took a step forward and thrust her blade into the second bandit, impaling him with a single strike as he screamed. Ripping the blade out, Sonja swung the blade across at the third Bandit to appear, but the man ducked under her steel, which clanged off the stagecoach.
Teeth bared, the Hyrkanian pressed her attack, letting out a war cry as she swung her sword with all her strength at the bandit. But this brigand responded with some degree of skill, holding up his repeater and using it to parry her blade, throwing the Hyrkanian off balance as the sword slammed into the dirt. Growling angrily, a powerful kick caused the bandit's knee to buckle and his shot to fly wide of the Hyrkanian. In a race to recover first, Sonja won, lowering her shoulder and knocking the man back into the stagecoach before grabbing her sword by the blade and swinging the pommel up into the man's jaw. When the bandit slumped down, Sonja batted his hat off and grabbed him by his scruffy hair, repeatedly slamming his head into the wagon.
Finally relinquishing her grip on the bandit, Sonja, through heavy breaths, took the moment of respite to reload her Colt. Fingers working quickly, Sonja slid her last load of bullets into the cylinder before snapping the loading gate closed. The Hyrkanian emerged from her shelter and fired at the next man she saw standing in the gate. Raising the gun, she fired at the man, killing him, but two more quickly turned the corner and sent her ducking behind the wagon. Blood boiling, Sonja's fury urged her not to cower, to attack her foe and run him through, so she tightened her grip on her longsword and leapt up into the wagon.
Planting her boot on the edge, Sonja leapt through the air, letting out a Hyrkanian battle cry as she came down on the nearest bandit. The Hyborian steel came down with such force that the blade was wedged between the man's ribs as he was driven back off his feet, falling off Sonja's blade as blood poured down his shirt. Staring wide eyed, the second man faltered long enough for Sonja to spin and lash out with a swing that dragged the tip of her sword through his belly and sent him crumpling to his knees.
Granting him the mercy of a pistol shot to the head, Sonja found herself in the midst of the remaining brigands along the fort's walls. Seeing the nearest man raise his pistol, Sonja leapt at him, bringing her sword down and severing his hand and swiftly taking a step forward, slashing up at the next man. Now in the throes of her bloodlust, the She-Devil carved her way through the bandits before her with unbridled fury, leaping at the third man and driving the tip of her sword through him.
Spinning around, Sonja kicked the man off her blade and into his companions, sending them toppling down while drawing her pistol and turned it towards the other group of bandits. She snapped a quick shot off, sending the group ducking down while she stood tall and fired a measured pair of follow up shots. Her bullets struck true, killing two different men before she sensed someone coming up behind her and the Hyrkanian spun back only to find the bandit was already upon her.
The large man slammed into Sonja with enough force to send her stumbling back, only just getting up on one knee as the brigand bull rushed her once more. Sonja raised her blade, but didn't have time to strike, instead bracing her sword with her free hand and holding it up as the raging brute fell upon her; his attack halted as Sonja pushed the long edge up into the base of his throat. With his weight pressing down on her steel, the bandit began to bleed along the length of the sword as he reached out and grappled with the Hyrkanian. Teeth barred in a snarl, Sonja defied his attempts to topple her as she snatched up her dropped Colt with her left hand and pressed the muzzle into his chin before pulling the trigger.
Head snapping back, the bandit slumped off Sonja, but she was given no time to catch her breath as she holstered her empty pistol. Rolling to her side, she dodged a bullet that came in from one of the five remaining men before spinning and lashing out with a swift kick that knocked a leg out from under the man right as she thrust the tip of her blade forward, impaling him as he fell. With a ferocious snarl, Sonja got to her feet, twisting her sword as she wrenched the man around so he was between her and his fellows.
Digging in her heels and letting out a war cry, Red Sonja charged forwards, lifting the impaled bandit off his feet and using him as her shield. Hearing the gunshots, Sonja saw the bandit twitch from every bullet his body absorbed until he finally went limp. Raising her boot, the Hyrkanian kicked the body off her blade, the corpse tumbling into the bandits before she swiftly leapt after it. Sword swinging wildly, the She-Devil attacked with all the ferocity she could muster, catching one man in the arm before changing direction and bringing her blade down towards the head of a second, only for the man to dodge so it came down on his shoulder and was dragged through his neck.
With the other bandits out of arms reach, Sonja went for the sawed-off scattergun on her leg and leveled the weapon before pulling one trigger. Even if the first deafening blast came from the hip, the spread of shot from the cut down barrels was wide enough to still catch the bandit holding a repeater, the buckshot tearing into his legs and sending him toppling over. Swiftly taming the mighty kick before swinging the shotgun around, Sonja fired the second shot at the farthest brigand from her and saw him fall.
Eschewing the empty weapon, Sonja yanked her bloody sword from the man it was buried in and swung it at the nearest man, cleaving into him as she pulled it through him before slashing him from the other direction it was stuck deep in his body. With her hands wrapped around the blade, the She-Devil saw the last bandit standing rushing at her over her shoulder. With grit teeth, the Hyrkanian coaxed the sword free, the bandit's lifeless form falling over as she stepped back and rammed the pommel into the man's stomach and spun. With a sickening sound, the weighted grip of her blade crashed against the skull of the man, sending him sprawling onto the ground, skull caved in by the strike.
Breathing heavily, Sonja found herself standing alone amongst the carnage she had wrought, the bodies of the bandits strewn around her. "I can't see any more! I think we did it boys!" shouted the Marshal from above, and the Hyrkanian allowed herself to relax, shoulders slumping as she sheathed her blade and moved to retrieve her shotgun. Picking up the weapon, her head snapped to the shaky movement of a man bleeding heavily from the gash in his leg delivered by her blade. Sneering at him, Sonja strode to him, empty shotgun and hand, and lashed out with her boot, kicking him over onto his belly. Feebly, the mortally wounded bandit tried to crawl away, "Marshal!" he wailed, "Marshal, I surrender!"
Sonja would not let the man have any end but one by her hands however, and flicked the catch that held the weapon together before bending over and wrapping the weapon around the man's neck, pulling back hard to choke off his pleas. Lips drawn back, Sonja pulled tighter despite the bandit's hands limply trying to coax it off, but stood no chance against the divine strength granted to the Hyrkanian. With a cry of effort, Sonja violently twisted the gun around, feeling the man's neck snap from the move as the body fell limp beneath her and she slipped the gun out from under it and slammed the breach closed. Casting one last glance at the bodies around her, Sonja did not see a particular face. "Shane Simon is not here, Marshal!" shouted the Hyrkanian, "The craven fool must be hiding."
"Men!" barked the lawman, "It's time to start tearing this place apart and FIND OUT WHERE HE'S COWERING!"
Turning to head back through the gate, Sonja saw a door at the far end of the courtyard swing open, and out charged a half dozen horses, all mounted by bandits brazenly firing pistols as they charged through the courtyard. The Hyrkanian heard the lawmen return fire, and saw stricken men fall from their horses while the survivors pressed on until there was but one left: Shane Simon.
With her firearms empty, Sonja reached for the only viable weapon she had, her faithful sword. She could see Simon's eyes narrow on her as he drew his own sword, an elegantly curved blade with knuckle guard over its single handed grip that he expertly held down at his side, poised to strike. Charging forward undaunted, Sonja leapt up into the stagecoach and threw herself at the oncoming Simon, her own sword held high above her head.
Crashing down on the man with all the strength she could muster, Sonja heard the clang of steel meeting steel reverberate through the air as she tumbled to the ground. Rolling to a stop, the Hyrkanian turned to see that her strike had succeeded in unsaddling the bandit, Simon himself sprawled across the ground with sword still in hand. Getting to her feet, Sonja leveled her blade at the bandit leader, "Stand and face me, Simon!" she shouted as the man picked himself up.
"Bitch," spat the man as he turned to face her, "Why won't you just die?"
In response, Sonja launched herself forward with sword coming around, but the bandit proved able with his own blade, and he managed to parry her attack and sidestep her before replying with a slash. Twisting, the Hyrkanian knocked his lighter weapon away and shuffled back out of reach, the pair circling after the initial exchange. "Where is Kulan Gath? What wretched hole has he crawled into?" pressed the She-Devil, grip tightening on her blade.
Simon, in response, laughed at her, an evil grin scrawled across his face. "That's what you want? That old fool?" barked the outlaw, wiping his hand over his filthy face. "He skipped town a couple days ago," revealed Simon, and Sonja felt her anger flicker at the admission, that her quarry had slipped through her grasp yet again.
Blinded by her anger, Sonja only realized that Simon had made his move when he was nearly upon her. Attacked by a flurry of rapid blows, the Hyrkanian backpaddled, blocking each strike with swift moves of her own before she finally spotted an opening and went on the attack. Throwing a punch, Sonja's fist connected squarely with the bandit's jaw, knocking him back before Sonja launched her own assault. Her steel crashed against his, only Sonja pressed on, sending the man back until his back was pressed to the wall of Fort Cassidy. "Where. Is. He?" ground out Sonja, teeth clenched. When Simon failed to answer, the Hyrkanian rammed a fist into his gut, "Where?"
"You argh," he groaned, writhing under the strain of keeping the blood soaked longsword away from himself. "You missed him… bitch," spat the bandit before he lashed out with a kick of his own that knocked the Hyrkanian's left leg out from under her. Before Sonja could reset her foot, she found herself shoved back and lost her balance. Tumbling to the ground, the Hyrkanian rolled away from Simon's boot as it came down beside her head and pushed herself up onto her hands and knees, only for a kick to send her sprawling across the ground, sword slipping from her grasp.
Scrambling to her feet, Sonja had to duck down to avoid the swinging saber and dashed for her sword. Right as her hand reached out for it, Simon kicked the blade away, and Sonja was forced to roll away from the weapon as his sword came down on her. "That old geezer wanted you alive, but he'll have to be content with your corpse!"
He swung his saber wildly, and Sonja sidestepped before rushing him, fists flying with all the Hyrkanian's fury, screaming out with each punch that connected staggering the bandit back under the sustained punishment. When she saw the saber coming in from the corner of her eye, Sonja's forearm came out to block Simon's arm from bringing the wickedly curved blade any closer. "Where has Gath fled to?" she shouted, her fist slamming into his nose, bloodying it, "Tell me!" When he defied her, the redhead's gloved hand crashed into his face again and again.
His fist came flying at her, and Sonja had to slip under it and leap back as his sword came slashing through the space she had just occupied. "I don't know where the old fool's gone, whore," spat Simon, blood tricking from his split lip, "But I know he's comin' back, and he's gonna pay me good for killing you!"
Sonja dove away, reaching out for her sword before rolling into her back and swinging it to knock Simon's saber away and then go for his legs, moving with a newfound speed. For the first time, her steel tasted the outlaw's flesh, and he screamed in pain while hobbling back, the Hyrkanian leaping to her feet, blade at the ready. Her next strike knocked Simon's blade aside before she lunged forward, driving the point of her longsword through his shoulder, twisting for good measure as the man dropped his saber and screamed.
Despite his wounds, Simon lunged at the She-Devil, fist poised to strike, only for the Hyrkanian to bring up her blade and dig the edge into the inside of his forearm. Parrying his strike to turn his body as she stepped back, Sonja held the handle of her sword down by her hip, tip pressed to the man's stomach before she thrust the blade forward, running him through until he was impaled by her blade, the blood soaked steel sticking out his back. "You shall die as you lived, Shane Simon: A pawn."
With one last cry, Sonja twisted her blade and yanked, the edge slicing through his belly until it emerged at his waist, the Hyrkanian wrenching it free from the dangling, shredded entrails that hung from the gaping wound of a collapsing Shane Simon. Stepping back from the body and turning around, Sonja was met with the sight of the men having all gathered, their expressions varied as she flicked the blood from her blade and replaced it in its scabbard. "The rest?" she asked, breaking the silence.
"Dead," supplied Walker in his low drawl before placing a cigarillo in his mouth and striking a match. "No sign of Gath, Calamity Dame."
"Then this cretin," hissed Sonja as she looked back at the gutted corpse, "Spoke the truth. Gath has fled, but he shall return."
"Wait!" called a voice, causing the whole group to look out the gate and see a man with a unkempt beard and stained shirt sprint in, rifle in hand. "Hold on! Hold on… I've missed it," bemoaned Irish, shoulders slumping exaggeratedly.
"Sorry we missed him," consoled the Marshal before looking around, "Still, not a bad day's work. Are you two going after this man you're so keen on? This Gath fellow?"
"I grow tired of the pursuit. Gath will return, and when he does, we shall be waiting for him," decided Sonja after a moment's thought.
Despite her response, Sonja could not quash the anger at letting Gath escape her grasp yet again.
Closing Notes: Well, this is the end of this first story arc, the plan is for a transition chapter and then the second one. The second arc will not be nearly as long as this first one, but it should be about 4 chapters, maybe 5.
Until then, Stay Frosty, Misfit Delta out.