“You did this!” he roared.
Blade saw the Hound going after Bonnie and Chastity and stepped in their direction, but the seven Hounds circling him closed in, cutting him off. He renewed his onslaught, splitting a Hound’s face with a slicing blow.
“Hickok!” he yelled. “Bonnie and Chastity!”
The gunman was already moving toward Blade, planning to assist his friend. He quickly scanned the room, searching for Chastity and Bonnie, and spied them on the far side of Blade and the Hounds. The swirling flow of the combat prevented him from seeing them clearly, and he raced to the right, skirting the combatants, his blue eyes picking out his daughter and the woman just as a Hound reached them.
Bonnie, unarmed, defenseless, had pushed Chastity behind her, screening the child with her own body. She turned to confront the charging Hound, but he was on her before she could lift her arms to defend herself.
The burly Hound rammed his bayonet into Bonnie’s abdomen, sneering in triumph as she gasped and doubled over. “Take that, bitch!” he cried, gloating. He looked down and saw the girl’s terrified visage peering up at him from the shelter of the woman’s legs. The child gazed past him and beamed in relief.
“Daddy!” Chastity shouted.
Tugging his bayonet loose, the Hound pivoted. Fear engulfed him at the sight of the gunman’s countenance.
Hickok was pale, his mouth a thin slit under his mustache, as he stepped closer. The Colts were held steady, trained on the burly Hound.
“No!” the Hound said, extending his left hand, palm out. “No! Please!”
Hickok shot him, just once, the slug boring through the Hound’s right kneecap and causing the soldier to buckle and fall onto his left knee.
“No!” the Hound bawled.
Hickok shot him again, planting a round in the Hound’s right shoulder.
The soldier twisted and almost went down, but he straightened with a determined effort.
“Please!” the Hound yelled plaintively. “Don’t kill me!”
Both Pythons boomed.
The Hound was slammed onto his back, his mouth sagging, his eyes gone, replaced by the entry holes made as the slugs bored into his optic centers.
Bonnie was on her knees, bent down, her arms pressed to her stomach, with Chastity crouched beside her.
Hickok glanced at Blade, noting the odds had been drastically reduced.
Only three Hounds remained, and as he looked he saw one of those topple over, gutted like a freshly caught fish. He hurried to Bonnie’s side and knelt. “Bonnie?”
She locked her eyes on his, conveying her misery and pain, her mouth trembling. “I’m scared to die.”
“You won’t die,” Hickok said. “Let me see it.”
“Don’t bother,” Bonnie declared, wheezing slightly.
Chastity moved to the gunman and draped her arms around his neck.
“Help her, Daddy,” she urged, tears streaking her cheeks.
Hickok leaned over for a better glimpse. All he could see was rivulets of blood and pale fluid seeping under Bonnie’s folded arms and dripping onto the floor. “Move your arms.”
“Forget about me,” Bonnie said.
“I want to help.”
“There’s nothing you can do.”
“You don’t know that,” Hickok stated, looking again at Blade.
One Hound left.
“I know,” Bonnie replied with conviction.
“Do you want to stand?” Hickok asked.
“No,” Bonnie said. “I’ll stay right where I am.” She grinned at Chastity.
“You got yourself a real nice daddy. Don’t let anything happen to him.”
“I won’t,” Chastity pledged, sniffling.
“There must be something I can do,” Hickok offered, feeling supremely helpless.
Bonnie shook her head feebly and sagged. “I never knew I could hurt so much.”
“Are there any Healers in Memphis? I’ll go fetch one,” Hickok proposed.
“Too late,” Bonnie mumbled.
A firm hand fell on the gunman’s left shoulder and Blade squatted alongside him. “How is she?”
Hickok gazed at his friend, frowned, and shook his head.
Chastity began crying softly.
Bonnie gazed at the Warriors, grinning, blood dribbling from the corners of her mouth. “Did we kick butt or what?”
“We kicked butt,” Blade said.
“The King?” she inquired.
“I’ll get him,” Blade vowed.
“You’ll have to beat me to him.” Hickok said.
Bonnie coughed and shivered. “Would one of you do me a favor?”
“Anything,” Blade said.
“Hold me. Please.”
Blade knelt and cradled her shoulders tenderly in his arms. “I’m sorry. I never intended for you to be hurt.”
“My own fault,” Bonnie responded. “I never did know when to leave well enough alone.” She coughed once more. “I’m glad I met you two. I was beginning to think that all men were only after one thing.”
“Bonnie…” Chastity said.
“You be strong for your daddy,” Bonnie stated. She quivered and stared at the ceiling, her eyes glistening. “Oh, God. I’m sorry I wasted it.” And with that, she took a deep breath and went limp.
“Bonnie!” Chastity screamed.
Blade lowered her body to the floor, then rose, simmering with rage. He turned toward the red door.
Which abruptly opened.
Chapter Twenty
Aloysius the First cackled as he closed the red door and secured a dead bolt located at shoulder level. He could hear the strident sounds of the battle, the cursing and clanging of blades and shrieks of agony. “Kill the bastards!” he muttered. “Kill them!”
How dare they defy his rule!
He backed away from the door in the darkness, absently running his fingers over the medals on his chest. “I’m the King. My will is law.”
Shots thundered in the throne room.
“I ordered you not to fire!” Aloysius shouted at the closed door. “I don’t want holes in my pretty posters.”
“Aloysius!”
He spun, shocked to behold the fiery red eyes and the spheres of arcing light he knew so well.
“I’ve come for you, Aloysius!”
“This can’t be!” he cried.
“Your reign is over.”
“This is impossible,” Aloysius declared. “You can’t talk without me.”
“Aren’t I the Dark Lord?”
The King took several strides forward, staring at the red orbs. “You’re nothing without me! I created you to keep my followers in line. I discovered the equipment in this room. I’m your master.”
“The Dark Lord has no master.”
Aloysius pressed his hands to his temples. “This isn’t happening. I’m hallucinating. That’s it. I’m imagining the whole thing.”
“This is real.”
“No!” Aloysius responded, racked by a feeling of disorientation. “I’m your creator. You don’t exist without me.”
“You used me. You destroyed others in my name.”
Aloysius clenched his fists and glared at the eyes. “Who the hell do you think you are? I made you. I can use you any way I want. So what if those imbeciles can’t tell the difference between a real mutant and a special-effects show? So what if I convinced them I was being aided by an indestructible mutant? I needed a method to force them to toe the line, to obey me implicitly. You were perfect for the role. An illusion can be as effective as reality if no one knows the difference.”
“You killed.”
“Of course I killed! I had to perpetuate the illusion. Don’t you see?”