Coyote: The Outlander (with FREE second screen experience) Read online

  © 2014, Chantal Noordeloos published by

  Tip My Hat publishing

  [email protected]

  ISBN: 978-94-91864-03-2

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author or publisher

  Cover Art by Paul Chapman

  Interior Design and e-conversion by Lori Michelle

  www.theauthorsalley.com

  TO DAAN,

  WHO NEVER STOPPED BELIEVING IN ME.

  TITLES BY CHANTAL NOORDELOOS

  Coming in 2015

  Coyote: The Rip Walker

  Even Hell Has Standards: Wrath

  Coyote series

  Coyote: The Outlander

  Coyote: The Clockwork Dragonfly

  Lucifer Falls series

  Angel Manor

  Even Hell Has Standards series

  Pride

  Short story collections

  Deeply Twisted

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  EQUALITY

  OLD MAN ROBERTS

  A NEW BOUNTY

  THE OUTLANDER

  A WARM WELCOME

  VISIONS

  TOKALA

  CONTACTS

  ZERTUGL

  THE ROMANI

  ROLLING THE DICE

  A TRADE IS MADE

  A PLEASURE DOING BUSINESS

  THE PARTICLE BEAM GUN

  ANGEL CAMP

  ANNIE

  A PLAN

  DEMURE

  WESTWOOD

  A HANGING

  THE WISDOM OF A SHAMAN

  NEW BEGINNINGS

  ABOUT THE SECOND SCREEN

  Reading itself is a favorite pastime, but with ‘Coyote: The Outlander’ we wanted to add a little extra by offering you a free second screen experience. Within the book you’ll find four icons of a safe. Each of these will come with the secret code for that part of the book. Simply go to the website www.coyotethebooks.com and unlock the corresponding safe.

  You will find FREE content, such as extra storylines, background music, selected for that part of the story. We advise you not to read ahead of the story, because the extra content may contain spoilers. You do not have to read the stories while reading the book, but we urge you, if you do, not to read them before you have reached the safe that unlocks them, as they may contain spoilers.

  You can also subscribe to our newsletter, which will enable us to keep you up to date about new releases. We intent to update the second screen regularly and offer extra freebies, so feel free to visit and don’t be a stranger!

  The Tip My Hat team, Publishers of Coyote: The Outlander

  PROLOGUE

  You can go to http://www.coyotethebooks.com and visit the village to unlock this safe. It’s not necessary to read the short stories at this point, as they’re not crucial to the plot. Please don’t read the stories before you’ve read up to the safes, since they may contain spoilers. The code is: 230207

  Gotcha, chuckle-head. Let’s see you get out of this one.

  Thomas Norton squinted at the wooden hardware store in an attempt to see through the dusty glass windows. He spat sour-tasting phlegm onto the ground next to him; his bounty was in there, tearing the place up. Thomas checked the bullets in his gun, making sure the chambers were filled. He wouldn’t get caught without bullets facing this guy. His eyes flashed toward his metal servant, who stood near the door. He had bought the thing six months ago, and already it was proving a better companion than any of the sidekicks who’d accompanied him so far. The thing didn’t eat, only needing some oil and the occasional winding. Best if all, it never complained that it didn’t get a big enough cut of his earnings.

  Most criminals feared the metal servant. Its cold, blank stare was intimidating, and on top of it all, the servant was nearly impossible to destroy. Perhaps some really well-aimed shots could do the trick, but no one had ever managed to bring the heavy man-shaped machine down.

  Buying that thing was the best idea I ever had, he thought with a hint of smug satisfaction.

  An eerie silence lingered on the square. Onlookers peered from behind windows and from porches. Thomas stood a bit taller, squaring his shoulders; he liked having an audience. Hopefully, there would be a beautiful girl watching him. That would guarantee him a good evening. Women liked bounty hunters, Thomas knew. He guessed there was something rough and heroic about them, and that made the ladies a little flustered.

  He glanced around to make sure everyone was at a safe distance and most of the locals were watching him from afar. Most . . . not all. To his annoyance, Thomas spotted a short, black man, who he almost mistook for an older child—though he didn’t look like a dwarf, judging by his proportions—with a tall woman standing right behind him. Too close for comfort.

  Very pretty, Thomas judged, taking in the woman’s heart-shaped face and doll-like features. Shame she dresses like a man. His eyes shifted from her dark blue jeans up to the black bowler hat. Two long, blond braids spilled across her shoulders and back, reaching all the way to her calves.

  She wasn’t a local, he could tell that much, and he decided she was probably the black man’s sidekick. On occasion, a woman would make an attempt at being a bounty hunter. It was a rare occurrence, but he had met a few. There was the occasional man who liked working with a woman, someone to keep the bed warm, not to mention being deceptively useful when tracking down a bounty. Thomas had considered getting himself a female sidekick too, though he wouldn’t allow her to wear trousers. Women should never wear trousers; it simply wasn’t becoming.

  He wouldn’t mind some company next to the metal servant, and a woman wouldn’t ask for much money. Perhaps, after he was done capturing his bounty, he could talk to this pretty blonde, see if she would be interested in changing partners.

  He glared at the short, black man, wondering if they really were working together. They looked like such an unlikely pair. Thomas scanned to crowd to see if he could spot a third person, a leader, who would complete this odd duo.

  “You might want to step aside,” the woman said. Her voice had an English lilt to it. Her words surprised him, and Thomas turned to her with a mixture of disbelief and irritation.

  “Excuse me?” He pulled up the rim of his Stetson and stared straight into her cornflower blue eyes.

  The woman stuck out her hip and hooked her thumbs in the loops of her jeans. He cocked his head, his eyebrows raised. She was an odd girl, that was for sure. Thomas guessed her to be in her early twenties. The black derby, and a very fine layer of white sand and dust coating her long, brown coat, indicated that she had been travelling for quite some time. She squinted at him with a confidence that made him a little uncomfortable.

  “I said . . . ” her words were slow and deliberate as if she were talking to a backward child, “you might want to step aside.” A crooked smile played on her lips.

  “Why would I want to do that?” He sneered at her, vexation threatening to get the better of him. Though he enjoyed talking to a pretty woman, this was neither the time nor the place. Thomas didn’t like the way this woman was talking to him, especially not in that insolent tone of hers.

  “Because you’re standing in between me and my bounty.” The woman wrinkled her nose, and her casual body
language infuriated him.

  “Your bounty?” Spittle flew from his dry lips when he spoke to her. “This is my bounty, so you better git, Girly. This is no place for a woman to be. Let a man do his job.” He jerked his head at her, an indication that she should go. The woman didn’t budge. Instead, she glanced at his gun.

  “You don’t intend to shoot it with that, do you?” She pointed at the weapon, cringing.

  “I do intend to shoot it with this, and if you don’t scram, I might shoot you too.” He waved the gun in her direction and she actually laughed at him.

  “If you’re sure you want to do this . . . ” She shrugged her shoulders and walked toward a stack of barrels that stood twenty feet away. The dark man followed suit, his movements surprisingly graceful. They each sat down on a barrel. The woman pulled her derby away from her eyes, crossed her arms, and leaned back as if she were enjoying a show.

  “Go on,” she said in her English accent. “Shoot him.” Then she turned to her partner and nudged him with her elbow. “This should be interesting, Caesar.” The short man nodded, but his face betrayed no emotion. He looked as if he were deep in thought.

  Thomas shook his head, his forehead furrowed.

  That blonde bitch is getting on my nerves.Who is she anyway? Just some silly woman.

  He turned to the metal servant. “Go in. Lure the bounty out.” He tried to give his voice a commanding tone, but the words came out strangled. Damn her! The metal servant came to life with slow jerky movements, and it made its way into the general store. There was a long moment of silence, and Thomas held his breath. He wondered if the onlookers were doing the same.

  The longest two minutes of his life passed, and then the door burst open. The man who stepped outside—his bounty—was a lot bigger than his wanted poster had suggested. A lot uglier too. In his large hands, he held the metal servant, or at least what was left of it. He had somehow snapped the iron servant in two, and now waved the parts around over his head before throwing them to the ground, where the remains whirred and twitched like a grotesque corpse. Thomas stared up dumbfounded at his target, trying to take in the entirety of the man, from the large square shoulders that swallowed any hint of his neck to the unnaturally square head that sat between them. The man had a fat lower lip that hung loosely on his chin, giving Thomas a glimpse of the long bottom teeth that reached all the way across his top lip. His nose was broad, and so flat that it almost disappeared into the strong cheeks. Round, beady eyes, placed too close together, glanced at the world from underneath a heavy unibrow. The man sniffed, his nostrils quivering black holes. The body language reminded Thomas of an angry bull, and the bounty hunter felt his confidence wavering.

  “Halt.” His voice sounded higher and a lot shakier than intended. Thomas cleared his throat and repeated the word. “Halt.” He lifted his gun at the man, who barely acknowledged his presence. The criminal took a step off the porch, his head swiveling from side to side, still sniffing as if he were onto a trail of something.

  “I said don’t move.” Thomas found some stability in his tone, and he cocked the hammer of the gun. “You move again and I will shoot.” He thanked the stars this was a “dead or alive” bounty. The big man ignored him and took another step forward. Thomas sighed and pulled the trigger. The shot rang out, and from the corner of his eye, he saw onlookers duck down. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion from that moment on.

  A weird sound resembling metal scraping stone rang out. Thomas was sure his bullet had struck the large man, only he didn’t fall . . . or even acknowledge any pain. The bounty hunter blinked and screamed when something bit him in the arm. He looked at the offended limb and realized it wasn’t a bite; a bullet had grazed him.

  Where did that come from? Confused, he turned to the criminal, expecting him to hold up a weapon of his own, but the large man appeared to be unarmed. Thomas shot again, this time striking the man right between the eyes, a golden shot. The bullet hit, but instead of penetrating the skull, it ricocheted off his brow, hit the ground, and made a trajectory toward Thomas again. He felt the bullet whiz past his ear.

  His jaw dropped open, but he couldn’t speak. He found it difficult to form a coherent thought. There was no way he was seeing this right. No one could withstand a bullet. He raised the gun again, determined to hit his mark this time, when a gloved hand grabbed his wrist.

  “Now, I let you shoot twice,” a warm female voice said, “but you seem to be a slow learner. I don’t want anyone getting hurt, so you’re going to stop shooting.” It was the blond woman. She pulled at him, forcing him to face her. He stared at her with a sense of overwhelming bewilderment.

  “Am I making myself clear?” She glowered at him.

  Thomas considered slapping her; the woman’s mere presence was an affront to his ego. How dare she talk to me like this? The confusion he felt seconds before turned to self-confidence and bravura; he pulled himself loose and ran toward the large criminal. A madness came over him, fired by fear and wounded pride. He shot his cartridge empty on the large man, narrowly avoiding the rebounding bullets, and when his ammunition was spent, he threw his gun at his adversary.

  The large man turned to him, baring his oversized bottom teeth, and before Thomas knew what was happening, his bounty leaped at him. A high-pitched scream rang through his ears, and it took him a second to realize it was coming from his own throat. The man—if indeed it was a man, Thomas was starting to have his doubts—landed on his chest like a massive boulder, and the crushing weight knocked the wind right out of him.

  The man on top of him growled. He—or it—looked at Thomas with wild round eyes, spittle foaming in the corners of his mouth as the long lower teeth snapped at him. Thomas felt the warm wetness of his own urine spread across his jeans. Dear Lord, this is a monster, he thought as the creature brought its face close to his. It’ll eat me alive.

  A long strand of saliva dripped down with a frustrating slowness, dangling above Thomas’s face until finally it broke loose and fell down. Thomas moved his head, catching the slobber on his cheek. Hot breath bounced off his ear as the thing sniffed. It let out something that sounded like a high-pitched bark and opened its mouth impossibly wide.

  Before the creature could take a bite out of him, a shot rang from several feet away. Everything seemed to freeze, and then the creature fell forward, his full weight pinning Thomas down.

  He gasped and tried to catch his breath, but his chest couldn’t move. Blood rushed to his head, making his ears ring, and black spots appeared in front of his eyes.

  A shadow blocked out the bright sun. Thomas opened his eyes enough to see the blond woman squatting next to him. He was actually grateful to see her, and he mimed the word “help.” She cocked her head at him.

  “I told you to get out of the way.” She shrugged and pulled at the rim of her derby. “You weren’t equipped to deal with this fellow.” The woman looked up and nodded to someone who stood near Thomas’s feet. “I’m sure you are a very fine bounty hunter, Mister . . . but there are things in this world you really shouldn’t meddle with.”

  She got up, stretching her long legs, and rubbed the dust off her jeans. The woman snapped her fingers and pointed. “You, big guy . . . come here and give us a hand getting this man free.” Then she pointed again. “You can help too. Come on . . . don’t be shy. You get to be heroes today.”

  More shadows crossed Thomas’s face, and he struggled to see clearly. His eyes were teary, and the lack of air dimmed his vision. There were some grunts, and then the massive weight lifted from his body. Thomas gasped for air, filling his lungs until they burned. Strong hands hooked under his armpits and pulled him free of the fallen monster. The hands released him a few feet away, where Thomas turned to his side, wheezing and coughing.

  “Are you okay, Mister?” asked a ratty-looking man with a soft, nasal voice.

  Thomas shook his head. His arm was throbbing and his ribs were sore; he did not feel okay.

  “He’s fin
e.” The woman reached out her hand and motioned for him to get up. “Have that wound on his arm checked out, but I don’t think he broke anything.”

  Thomas stumbled reluctantly to his feet. The woman eyed him critically, hands resting on her hips.

  “Can you breathe normally?” she asked him. He nodded. “Then you have no broken ribs. Should be fine.” She dismissed him with a wave of her hand and turned on her heel to join her companion at the corpse of the monster.

  Thomas felt a strange sort of awe for her despite his earlier agitation. She wasn’t just any woman. She knew things he didn’t.

  “Who is she?” he asked the ratty-looking man.

  “That?” The man rubbed his thin, brown moustache and twitched his nose. “Why, that’s Coyote.” The man raised his eyebrows at Thomas. “You never heard of Coyote?”

  “The Coyote?” It was Thomas’s turn to raise his eyebrows. He pulled off his hat and scratched his hair. “But . . . but . . . no one ever told me Coyote is a woman.” Thomas stared at her as she instructed four dumbfounded men who stood around the large corpse.

  “Yeah, and that guy over there is her partner.” The ratty man pointed toward Caesar. “Guy’s a former slave.” He whistled between crooked teeth. “Oddest pair, but I sure as heck wouldn’t mess with them.”

  “Well I’ll be . . . ” Thomas rubbed the back of his neck. His bones still ached. He recalled the stories about Coyote, his eyes wide in wonder.

  “I know.” The rat-faced man shook his head mournfully. “What’s the world coming to, eh?”

  EQUALITY

  The sun was setting, tinting the sky with brilliant orange and pink colors, by the time Coyote and Caesar saw the next town in the distance. They were both a little saddle sore. Transporting their dead bounty to one of the safe havens had taken longer than expected, and Coyote was aching for a hot bath to soothe her tense muscles.

  “You should not have let that man shoot at the bounty.” It was the first time Caesar had spoken of the incident. His voice was a slow baritone, and his accent had an exotic but meticulous lilt, articulating each word.