Slave Nation

4. Blood & Beer

4

Blood & Beer

The barman reached out to grab me. I pushed off the bar with both feet. As the stool fell backwards, I escaped the barman’s clutches. I let the momentum take me. I back-flipped off the stool, kicking an on-rushing biker in the chest with the soles of my pumps. I landed on my feet as he fell away. Still in one move, I caught the falling stool and swung it to my right.

Pointy Beard took an instant nap on the floor. A cut above the eye where the stool connected.

I swung the stool again. An ogre with a black beard and a ponytail smashed it in two with a forearm. He swung a fist the size of a boulder. I ducked underneath and took a running jump. I used his shoulders to swing myself around the back of him and crack the barman in the jaw with a kick.

I came down around the other side. Grabbed the big guy’s pony tail. Yanked his head and cracked the back of his skull on the edge of the bar top.

That was three down. Four left. One of them the woman, pulling a silver Magnum revolver from inside a leather jacket. I moved fast into a roll between pool tables. Bullets blowing beer bottles off the cushions. She clicked empty after four shots. I rose and threw the eight ball flush in her face. Her nose exploded with blood as she collapsed onto a table.

Meanwhile, a biker had found a twelve gauge from somewhere. As he pumped the forend of the shotgun at the far end of the pool table, I swung the heavy wooden light shade. It hit him hard in the mush. As another guy grabbed at me from behind, I ducked and let the light shade swing back the other way. It smacked him in the forehead. I picked up three pool balls and threw them in quick succession. Each one a bullseye hit on Twelve Gauge’s nut.

That left one man and two walking wounded. Unarmed except for pool cues. They circled me. I picked up a cue of my own and backed away from the tables. The first one swung. The other two with him. I blocked all three attacks with my cue. Knocked a guy dizzy with the fat end. The other two came at me again. I blocked one, ducked another and caught the swinger between the legs. I spun the cue one-eighty and slammed him in the eye. I whirled the cue around baseball style and knocked the remaining guy into the jukebox. His head left a smear of blood on the glass.

I lured the two still standing either side of me. They swung. I dropped to my knees. They struck each other out with their own cues. I rose and finished the job. A spin-hit putting both on their backs.

I twirled my cue as I walked to the bar. The big guy with the ponytail was struggling to his feet. I let him have it. He collapsed to his bum, the pool cue snapping in two over his head.

I kept hold of the fat, splintered end. Pointy Beard clung to the bar, face caked in blood.

“Where can I find New Horizon?” I asked him.

“f**k you,” he said.

I rammed the sharp end of the broken cue in the guy’s shoulder. He screamed in pain. “Don't make me ask again,” I said.

Pointy Beard got his breath. “Feds were onto ‘em,” he said. “They relocated.”

I worked the cue inside the wound. “Where?”

“Bay area. San Fran.”

I noticed a skull keychain on his belt. I ripped it off. “Thank you for your cooperation,” I said with a smile. I grabbed my satchel off the bar. Pointy Beard slid to the floorboards as I walked out of the door.

The sun hit me hard as I came out. I slipped on my fake Gucci's and strolled along the row of hogs. The Harley on the far end had the same metal skull between the handlebars as the key chain. I straddled the bike, slid the key in the ignition and turned.

The bike roared into life. I revved the engine, knocked the kickstand back and tore off along the highway.