A Fistful of Trouble (Outlaws of the Galaxy Book 2) by Paul Tomlinson (books on motivation TXT) 📗

ask how Danny had taken it from the sheriff’s desk drawer. He tucked it under the sheet next to my hip. It was warm and slightly damp.

“Can I do anything else for you?” he asked.

“Another time perhaps,” I croaked, shaking my head.

“Midnight,” he whispered. “There’ll be a car waiting for you behind the butcher’s shop.” Danny climbed off the bed and Little Danny made a bid for freedom. “Dammit!” he said. “I told her I should keep my briefs on.” He tucked himself back into the costume. Danny turned and sashayed out again.

“Have you got any of that dessert for me?” the deputy asked.

“You couldn’t afford me, dear,” Danny said and disappeared down the stairs.

Scowling, the deputy came into the room and checked that my handcuffs were still securely fastened. When he was through he stomped out and slammed the door behind him. I wondered if he’d wanted the chocolate dessert or the vanilla.

I gave myself a crick in the neck trying to open the handcuffs with the key between my teeth. It’s tricky but not impossible. As a thief, it’s the sort of thing you practice doing in idle moments.

When I was free and dressed, I kicked over a chair to get the attention of the sheriff’s deputy. When he came in, I hit him over the head with the chair, hard enough to break it. The chair, not his head. When he tried to get up again, I whacked him behind the ear with a chair leg.

“That’s for ogling Danny’s butt,” I said.

I went down the back stairs and out through the kitchen. At ten minutes to midnight, I was standing outside breathing the air as a free man. All I had to do now was stay free.

As it turned out, I had more surprises to come.

The vehicle waiting for me behind the butcher’s shop was a Trekker like the one I’d had. As I got closer I saw that it was the one I’d had. It was the car Harmony had stolen. I didn’t have time to stand wondering how this miracle had come about. The driver’s door was unlocked and the keys were in the ignition. I climbed behind the wheel.

“Did you enjoy your dessert?” asked a voice beside me.

I almost squit myself. “You!”

Harmony leaned forward out of the shadows. “Hello, Quin.”

“You dressed Danny up like that?”

“You’re welcome,” she said. “Did you enjoy it?”

“He almost choked me.”

“Yes, he’s a big boy isn’t he?”

“The poor boy was mortified!”

“No, he wasn’t. He had to wait for his excitement to die down before he could go upstairs. I hope you made the most of the opportunity.”

“I would never take advantage of someone like that. And besides, the sheriff’s deputy was watching.”

“Would that have bothered you?” she asked. “You’re a strange one, Quincy Randall.”

“What are you doing back here?” I asked. “I thought you’d got what you wanted.”

“I heard what happened to you and Floyd. I came back to help you.”

“I don’t believe you’re here because you felt guilty,” I said.

“Good – because I didn’t do it out of guilt. You should start driving. It won’t be long before they discover you’re missing.”

“Get out of my car.”

Harmony shook her head. “I’m coming with you.”

“You don’t know where I’m going. I don’t know where I’m going.”

“You’re going to get Floyd back. We have to catch up with that revolting robot trader who bought him. The man has two days’ head start, so will you just drive.”

I started the Trekker. She was right. I had to get away from Cicada City and I had to catch up with Happy Hawkins. I figured I could just abandon her at the side of the road somewhere tomorrow.

*

The sun was just coming up when Harmony looked back and spotted our pursuers.

“Here they come!”

As an outlaw, having a posse ride out after you is an occupational hazard. What you have to do is keep your cool, drive fast, and watch where you’re going. There were half-a-dozen cars chasing us. Only three of them had flashing red and blue lights. The sheriff’s car was in the lead and two deputies were on either side and slightly behind him. The others were civilian vehicles – either the drivers’ own or ones they’d commandeered for the chase.

I saw Harmony reach for her pistol.

“Don’t,” I said. “If you shoot at them, they’ll open fire on us. And they have more guns.”

Reluctantly she slid the gun back into its holster. “You’re not big on having fun of any kind, are you?”

“Right now I’ll settle for staying alive.”

“You need to drive faster,” Harmony said.

My foot was flat to the floor already and the Trekker was bucking and shaking as the tyres rumbled over the uneven road surface. We weren’t going to outrun them.

“I’m taking us off-road,” I said. “Buckle up.”

Harmony fastened herself into the safety harness. “If you don’t lose them, I’m going to have to start shooting,” she said.

She was only saying this to spur me on. Or so I hoped. If Floyd had been sitting on the back of the Trekker, he’d have fired off a few shots from his cannon and that would have discouraged our pursuers. I trusted him to hit the ground in front of their cars. I didn’t have the same faith in Harmony.

Some men drive a big truck with chunky tyres because they regard it as a symbol of their virility. They want you to believe that only men with big dicks drive big trucks. I drive one because of situations like this.

“Even if this thing ends up on its roof, we’ll be fine,” I told Harmony, patting the exposed roll-cage.

“It’ll drive better if you keep it on its wheels,” she said.

I drove off the road and down the slight incline beside it. Behind us, the posse did the same. I was hoping that some of their vehicles wouldn’t last long over the rougher terrain. It wasn’t long before my diabolical plan paid off. One of the cars, an aging station wagon,