I had to admit, a bit of me was annoyed at how powerless and helpless I felt in this situation. Sure, I knew how to fight, but that was against drunks and people in town, usually with fists. Now, it was against a bunch of dangerous grown men who had weapons. And I felt like I couldn’t do a damn thing. But I could admit that watching Nell get to work was a true pleasure.

  She vaulted out of cover with the grace of a dancer. Was that self-taught or the gifts of a card? I couldn’t know, and now wasn’t the time to ask. But she leaped clear over the closest man, the marksman, and her scythe whipped out with a fluid grace that made me envious. The tip of the blade sliced across his chest, cutting free his bandolier, and leaving a bright red line from collar to naval. The man gasped and fell back.

  I gulped as I moved low and quiet around the edge of the clearing, wondering if she had just killed that man or not. I mean, I wouldn’t blame her if she did. After all, she was a bounty hunter, and not every bounty was going to come quietly. Sometimes, you had to kill, especially if your life or the life of someone you cared about was in danger. Still, I had never seen someone be killed, and I didn’t know how I felt.

  So much for being a Badlands badass. For all of my bravado, I’d lived a somewhat sheltered life in Parroia. Plenty of scuffles, sure, but nothing deadly.

  You can’t worry about that now, I chided myself. I had one job, and that was to keep that cage closed. If the Needleback got free, we’d be in for some trouble.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a blur of pink as Nell danced through the men. Their yells quickly rose, changing from merriment to shock and anger. Her scythe flew out in a deadly arc, and before they could respond, the blade imbedded itself into the man with the axe. He roared with pain and even more so when she yanked it free, his blood spraying the air. I didn’t think it would be a fatal wound from its positioning, but he wouldn’t be able to wield the axe properly any time soon.

  Not that he would be doing much of anything, because as she yanked the tip of her scythe out of him, she did a whirling twist and brought the blunt end of her scythe up and knocked him in the chin, throwing him back. He landed with a heavy thump and didn’t move again.

  I kept moving, but I could hear the smile in Nell’s voice as she addressed the bandits. “Come on, boys, I’m a lady who loves to dance. Can’t any of you show me a good time?”

  The bandits, of course, obliged her. Dumb and angry men were never very good at standing down from a taunt.

  They converged on her, and I heard their weapons clang together, their grunts and curses mixed with her own noises of exertion and glee. She was having a good time, and I hoped that meant she had everything under control. Meanwhile, I had my own mission.

  I emerged out of the underbrush right next to the cage. Just as I did so, the Needleback whirled and slammed against the bars right near me. I flinched, letting out a yelp, though I wasn’t sure if anyone heard that over the carnage of the fighting. They might have heard the cage rattle. Or they might just assume that the monster was agitated by the shouting and the blood and not be any the wiser.

  I quickly picked myself up and crossed to the padlocked door at the front of the cage, ignoring the venemous glare of the monster, those glowing eyes burning into me. I wondered if it would try to stick me with its poisonous barbs, but the creature didn’t move again to lunge at me, which, for now, I counted as a blessing.

  No sooner did I come to the front of the cage than I spotted the Monster Tamer with my bludgel. He was running toward me, but his eyes were fixed squarely on the fight between his men and Nell. I wanted to look, too, wanted to make sure she was okay, but I knew if I took my eyes off this man, I might leave myself wide open. Besides, I saw her blurry movement in my peripherals. She was doing fine. She was much too fast and nimble for them, and she had a longer reach.

  The Tamer’s eyes locked on me at last, and he froze. The man gripped my weapon tightly in his dirty hands. His fingernails were long, cracked, and yellow, the tips blackened by dirt. I wanted to scowl and curse at him. I’d have to give my bludgel a nice oil bath.

  He recognized me. “You!” he said, surprise winning out in his words more than anger.

  I hefted my stick, ready to defend myself and my position. My lips quirked into a toothy grin. “Me. Probably shoulda killed me, friend.” Then I got into a ready stance and thrust my makeshift staff in front of me. “Now, give me back my stuff.”

  His glare loomed from beneath the brim of my father’s hat. His eyes were dark and murderous, and the beard around his mouth was stained a darker shade than the graying brown of the rest, probably from accumulated tobacco spit.

  “Piss off, lad.” And then he came at me, brandishing my own weapon against me.

  The Tamer was a man of middle age or older, but he closed the distance between us with startling speed. Too fast to be just an athletic man of his age. No, it had to be a [Speed] card. A [Common] one, likely, so not overpowered like higher cards, but it was still a problem. My heightened reflexes had their work cut out for them.

  He wielded the bludgel with surprising skill, and perhaps he did have a [Polearm] skill card under his sleeves. It was all I could do to parry each blow with my own, matching strike for strike, staff for staff. Of course, his staff was an actual smith-made combat staff. Mine was a large stick, and with each whack, I felt the wood in my hands groan and buckle. It wouldn’t hold out for long, and then I’d be in big trouble.

  The bandit seemed to know that as well, though it wasn’t like it was a secret. I’d be in trouble even if he didn’t have any sort of skill with the bludgel. I had only survived thus far because I was able to deflect the heavy club blows he’d swung at me using the end of my makeshift staff. This pissed him off something fierce, which also made me think maybe he didn’t have a skill card but just some natural experience with staves.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Unfortunately, I wasn’t in this fight alone. To my right, Nell cried out, a sharp sound of pain, and I couldn’t help but take my eyes off my opponent for a split second. Long enough to see Nell somersault away from two of her opponents, a fresh slash on her sleeve, bright blood welling from the wound beneath. Nothing serious that I could determine in that instant.

  But my mistake was serious, and even though it was only a mere second of distraction, it was enough. The Tamer spun and swung with the club end of my bludgel. It sped toward me with the force of a train and the speed of an arrow. It was all I could do to bring my staff up as I moved backward out of the way. That second jump back meant my hip wasn’t blown into smithereens, but the bludgel caught my staff in the middle and snapped it right in half.

  The shock of it brought me to the ground, my tailbone smacking against a rock and sending a jolt up my spine.

  A more bloodthirsty bandit might have finished me off right then and there, but they had only stolen from me and left me alive, so I got the sense that they weren’t wanton murderers. Instead, the Tamer sneered at me as he approached, savoring his victory.

  Maybe they were less bloodthirsty . . . or just arrogant and foolish.

  “Yeah, you’re right, kid. We shoulda stuck you like a pig and sold your skin to a flesh changer. Maybe that will be the procedure goin’ forward, after we’re done with your pretty friend over there.”

  “You could still do that,” I told him. I’d keep him talking. The longer I did, the longer I lived. “I’m young and healthy, and my skin would be quite valuable.”

  He stroked his beard, considering that as he took a few steps closer. “Aye. You’re quite the helpful victim. A shame. Maybe we could have used a new set of hands. And you seem brighter than this lot. But unfortunately, a reckonin’ is called for. I can’t letcha live, not after you brought a hunter to kill my men. On top of that, I . . .”

  I had heard enough, and the Tamer was close enough. I brought my leg up, knee to my chest, and then kicked out. My aim was true. My heel connected with his crotch, and I felt the impact of foot to jewels.

  The bandit cried out, dropped like a stone, and pitched forward. I erupted from the ground and grabbed at my bludgel. He had loosened his grip on it from his sudden, blinding pain. He was too stunned to resist, and I managed to wrench half of it free. I whipped the bottom half of the shaft up and smashed the rubber-tipped end into his bearded chin. That probably cushioned the blow, but it was enough, snapping his head back, and his body followed.

  My bludgel came fully free. It felt heavy in my hands, but still right . . . perfect.

  I’d only had it for a day, but it felt like a part of me already. I strode forward and stood over the Tamer. He was almost knocked out, but not quite, so I thumped him in the forehead with a quick flick of my wrist, the rubber bottom of the bludgel striking him solidly. It would have been damn near murder to hit him in the head with the other end. I only needed him knocked out, not dead.

  With the Tamer unconscious, I leaned forward, plucked the straw hat from his dirty, greasy hair, and plopped it back on my head where it belonged.

  When I turned back to Nell and her fight, she was still defending against two bandits. Still holding her own, but her movements had slowed, and she had taken several wounds. Blood dripped from a wound on her arm, and a cut on her forehead caused blood to flow down her face and obscure her left eye. It was only a matter of time until she took a more deadly wound.

  Bludgel in hand, I ran for her. I was lucky because the bandits were too engrossed in their fight with Nell to notice me. The first one didn’t react as I ran up behind him until the very last moment. Whether he heard me or one of his senses picked up on the danger, I don’t know, but he looked around a second too late. I swept my bludgel low and took his legs out from under him. His club flew from his grasp as his legs were swept out from under him, and he landed with a breath-stealing oomph.

  As my momentum carried me back around, I brought the other end of the bludgel forward and caught the other bandit in the back. Not enough to seriously injure him, but it caused him to stumble, and that was all the help Nell needed.

  She tripped him as he stumbled off balance toward her, and as he fell, she kicked out with her scythe and swiped the tip across his neck. I gasped at the sudden violence of it. He was down. We could have knocked him out, not killed him. I started for the bandit I’d knocked down to clock his lights out, but Nell was faster than I was, and her blade swiped across his neck too.

  My stomach twisted. The Badlands were aptly named, and I knew I would experience more death as I made my way, but I hadn’t expected it would be so soon, and I didn’t think it would be so needless.

  I swallowed, letting the end of my bludgel dip and rest against the grass and dirt. My eyes found Nell, and they were heavy. The danger was over, but that hardly made me feel much better.

  “Are they all dead?" I asked. “Did you have to kill them?”

  She flicked her scythe, letting the blood spray the grass. Then her eyes found mine. She stared at me with an arched brow, wondering what the hell I was talking about.

  “They’re not dead, Griff.”

  It was my turn to be confused. “But you just slit their throats.”

  “Look closer.”

  I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to see the bloody wreckage of their throats, but I forced myself to comply and look. And I found she was right. The cuts were not deep. In fact, they were only shallow red lines, hardly any blood flowing from the wounds. Certainly not deep enough to kill.

  How did that incapacitate them?

  I looked to her for an answer, and the question must have been plain as day on my face. Nell shrugged.

  “I try not to kill when at all possible. A bounty is usually worth more alive than dead, so it’s bad business to kill wantonly. I make it a habit to incapacitate. I coat my blade with kover toxin, which knocks you out if it gets in your system within seconds. But it has to be through the blood, so it’s no good if you put it in food or a drink. On weapons is the best way.”

  Oh, so that was why they didn’t get up and fight after such seemingly shallow and nonlife-threatening cuts. I mean, some of them had looked deadly from my vantage point. But now, none of the men had any serious injuries that I could see.

  I had done my best not to judge her when I thought she was ruthlessly killing the bandits. The Badlands was a rough place, and it wasn’t just monsters you had to worry about. Other than the safety of the towns and cities, it was mostly a lawless haven of criminals and outlaws, and they would do worse to you than just rob you. So, she’d have to kill sometimes, and I was sure I’d have to eventually as well. In defense of my own life, I think I could do it. I wouldn’t like it, but I would do what I had to. That’s what Deebo always said: we ought to treat life as precious, and only harm others in self-defense.

  I was glad I hadn’t needed to take a life just yet. I was spared that act. It was one that I knew would stain my soul a darker shade. Maybe it would be unavoidable, but I would try to keep my hands clean for as long as possible.

  Instead, I allowed my thoughts to veer to the lighter side. We’d won! It was a rough first day on the road, but I’d won my first true Badlands brawl, and I felt like I could take on the entire world. Just maybe, I would.