SHOOTOUT

NO ONE SPOKE a single word as Silas stepped out and shuffled to the side, keeping his body in front of Deacon. The silence was broken only by the clatter of rifles adjusting their aim. Deacon did as Silas had instructed, pointing his guns and staying well hidden.

As the two neared the edge of the curb, Red Stripe finally spoke. “Stop right where you are. Not another step.”

Silas paused, keeping his aim on Red Stripe. “And what are you going to do if we don’t?” He tried to sound confident. His plan would rely on confidence.

“Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what we’re going to do. We’re going to rip you apart until there’s nothing left but blood and oil.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“What are you getting at? Of course I’m sure.”

“Do you recognize me?”

“Recognize you? You’re just a useless housie. Why would I recog—” He stopped midsentence and leaned forward. “What a minute. You’re the damn runt that pulled a gun on me this morning.”

“Yes, that was me.” He raised his revolver to show it off. “With this gun. We seem to have come to a similar situation.”

“Only this time I’ve got one as well.”

“Yes, you do, but it doesn’t do you much good, now, does it?” He gestured to the rest of the clunkers. “None of your weapons do.”

“What in the world are you talking about, runt?”

“I’m talking about Riley’s orders. She wants to protect me.”

“I think you’re getting a little cocky there, runt. You don’t mean a thing to Riley. I could blow you away right now and she wouldn’t give a damn.”

“That’s an interesting theory, Matthias, but if it were true, you would’ve already shot me. There’s nothing stopping you, other than the fact that you know I’m right. You’re one of Riley’s most loyal soldiers, correct? That’s probably something you take a lot of pride in. It would be a shame to ruin your reputation just to kill one human.”

“You know,” Red Stripe said, lowering his rifle. “I really hate everything about you.”

“Right back at ya!” Deacon yelled from behind Silas.

Red Stripe swung his rifle back up. “Shut up, fleshball. Don’t make a fool of me.”

Keeping his gun pointed forward, Silas nudged Deacon with his elbow.

“Sorry,” Deacon whispered. “Shutting up now.”

“Nobody’s making a fool of you,” Silas said. “We just want to go unharmed.”

“And what’s to stop me from just walking up and grabbing you?”

“You could, but you’d lose a few soldiers on the way.”

“Let me make this clear, runt. If you shoot, we shoot back. I don’t care what Riley’s orders are.”

Both sides stood in silence, waiting to see what the other would do. Silas had no doubt that they would fire back. The real question was, did Red Stripe believe that Silas would actually shoot? If not, they were already dead.

Silas took another step to the side. “My friend here is itching to shoot you down. Believe me. We’ll shoot if you come any closer.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Red Stripe said. “But the way I see it, I have three options. The first is to let you go, and we both know that’s not happening. The second is to follow Riley’s orders and keep you alive. I’ll walk right up and take the human myself. As you’ve pointed out, I’ll lose some good soldiers on the way. I don’t want that either. That leaves option three.”

Silas waited to hear what option three was, but Red Stripe had stopped talking. “What is option three?”

Red Stripe gave a satisfied nod. “I’m glad you asked. Riley has always trusted my judgment. She may wish to protect you, but to lose loyal soldiers in an attempt to protect a pathetic defector? It just doesn’t make sense. You want to know what option three is? Kill both of you.”

It was a noble effort, but Silas’s plan had failed. All that was left was to go down in a blaze of glory.

“SOLDIERS!” Red Stripe yelled. “READY!”

Deacon stepped out from behind Silas to stand beside him in their last shootout. “It’s been a pleasure, Silas. Let’s not make it easy for them.”

Red Stripe moved his aim toward Deacon’s head. “AIM!”

“Go for the chest,” Silas said to Deacon, pointing his revolver at Red Stripe’s chest plate. “The kill shot.” Would the bullet even penetrate the thick metal? He did not know. But what did he have to lose?

They waited for the final command from Red Stripe. The word to end it all. And at the sound of that word, carnage would rage in a whirlwind of bullets.

Deacon would scramble behind a light post. He would shoot off five or six bullets, dropping at least two clunkers.

Silas would crouch behind a mailbox. He would shoot two bullets at Red Stripe. The first one would dent the clunker’s chest plate. The second would rip straight through. Red Stripe would fall dead to the ground.

Deacon would take a hit to the shoulder. He would fall back in excruciating pain but bounce back up and kill two more clunkers.

A bullet would strike Silas’s face and rip off half of his head. He would lose his sight but keep shooting blind.

Deacon would grasp his bleeding shoulder and get hit with three more bullets to the chest. He would fall to the ground in a pool of his own blood. This time he would not bounce back up.

The six-shooter would shoot its last bullet. Silas would continue to pull the trigger, but instead of a thunderous gunshot, it would only be an empty click. Another shot would tear off his arm. He would stumble helplessly through the street, trying to find Deacon’s body. A final shot would enter his chest, and he would drop to the ground. No more than a lifeless hunk of metal.

And then it would all be over. Their journey would come to an end.

But none of this would happen until Red Stripe said the word. Nothing would end until he said fire.

But as the word began to form, it was interrupted by a different one.

“STOP!”

Keeping his aim locked on Deacon, Red Stripe held up his hand as a signal to hold fire.

Silas immediately recognized the voice and was relieved to hear it.

“Not a single one of you fires your weapon,” Riley said, emerging from behind Red Stripe. “I’m not about to lose a bunch of simmies just to kill one human.”

“Riley,” Red Stripe said. “This housie disrupted the execution and shot another simmi backstage.”

“I am aware, Matthias, and those are not actions I take lightly. A simmi attacking another simmi is unacceptable, but to punish him by committing the same act? That would be hypocrisy in its highest form. We must not turn on each other. Not now. Not ever.”

“Then how do you suggest we punish him?”

“We don’t,” Riley said, as if the answer was simple. “We let Silas and his friend go. We have no use for the human anymore.”

“You would let an act of treason go unpunished?”

Riley approached Red Stripe and placed a hand on his shoulder. “If I’m not mistaken, Matthias, just two minutes ago you were ready to commit an act of treason yourself.”

Red Stripe shuddered at the accusation but could not refute her statement.

“You are fully aware of my policy regarding violence against other simmies.” She wandered past the other soldiers to stand in the way of their weapons. “But you chose to ignore my policy in order to feed that overinflated ego of yours. The way I see it, you’re just as guilty as they are.”

There was no response from Red Stripe. Silas could see his hand tremble as he struggled to keep his gun raised.

“Lower your goddamn weapons!” Riley yelled. “Do you realize you’re aiming a loaded gun at your own commanding leader?”

Without hesitation, they all lowered their firearms.

Red Stripe did so as well, letting his gun drop to the ground. He stumbled toward Riley with his hands pressed together. “I apologize. Really, I do. It was never my intention to challenge your authority. I have no idea what came over me.”

She flicked a dismissive wave of her hand. “I do, Matthias. It’s the way every Matthias is. You mean well, but sometimes you let your ego take control. I don’t fault you for it.”

He fell to his knees and stared at the ground. His posture revealed an intense feeling of shame.

“The rest of you,” Riley said, addressing Red Stripe’s squad. “Go on with your business. I’ll handle things from here.”

The clunkers dispersed, some walking down the street, others through the alley.

Silas stole a glance at Deacon. His eyebrows were raised and his jaw hung wide open. It was comforting to know that Deacon was just as dumbfounded as he was. His plan had worked.

“I apologize for Matthias’s behavior,” Riley said, walking toward them. “It’s not his fault, I suppose. He’s just trying to do what’s best for the community. In this case, his judgment was off. But I seem to have arrived just in time. You are free to go.”

“You’re not going to kill me?” Deacon asked.

She shook her head. “Not if Silas is against the idea. Don’t get me wrong, I would take immense pleasure in watching you die. I have learned over the years that people like you are all the same. You all deserve to die. Even the ones who don’t seem so bad. But Silas has made it perfectly clear that he does not agree. So, you are free to go.”

Silas stepped forward. “It’s because I’m the only Silas, isn’t it?”

“It goes much deeper than that,” Riley said, patting his shoulder and walking past them to admire the sunset. “Yes, you are the only Silas we know of, but in New Valley, we believe that all simmi lives are important. We must protect each other. A simmi must never kill another simmi. So yes, I do not wish to harm you. But it is not because you are the only Silas. It’s because you are one of us.”

They had done the impossible. Deacon had entered Clunker Hell, and Silas had managed to get him out alive. Deacon nudged his head at Silas, a message he interpreted as, let’s quit while we’re ahead and get the hell out of Dodge. Silas agreed that they should leave, but he also recognized the leverage they had.

“I want a horse,” he said to Riley. “One just as good as the one we had earlier.”

Deacon reached out, as if to say, what the hell are you doing? He was shocked at Riley’s answer.

“Of course,” she said. “I will have one brought over right away. Is there anything else you would like before you leave?”

“Guns,” Deacon blurted out, and then scrambled to cover his mouth, fearing that he had spoken out of line.

“Guns,” Silas confirmed. “Gas and oil. One of your portable generators as well. And we’ll take food if you have any.”

Riley nodded. “I’m afraid we have no food beyond oats for the horses, but the rest is yours.” She turned to Red Stripe, who was still on his knees. “Matthias, retrieve these items for our friend.”

Red Stripe snapped out of his shame-driven daze. “Yes, right away.” He rose to his feet and walked away, turning at the first intersection and disappearing behind a building.

She turned back to Silas. “This street leads to the highway. Follow it and take the ramp to Route 66. After that, you’re free to go wherever you please.”

“What about the other simmies?” Deacon asked.

“You don’t have to worry about them. They won’t harm you, at least while you’re in New Valley. Once you’re out of the city, you’re on your own.” She signaled to Silas. “May I speak with you alone for a moment?”

Deacon grabbed his shoulder. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“It will only be a moment,” Silas said.

Deacon nodded and let go.

The sky had morphed into an inferno of colors. The red-orange hue reflected off of Silas’s chest as he crossed the street to meet Riley.

“I am sad to see you go,” she said. “It is always unfortunate to lose one of our own.”

“I can’t let you kill him.”

“I know. And that is why I’m letting you go. I will never force anyone to stay if they don’t want to.”

Silas looked up at the towering skyscrapers. “It is a nice place. It’s just not for me.”

“I can respect that decision. I must admit, of all the simmies I’ve ever met, you intrigue me the most. I hope to someday get the chance to know you better. You are always welcome back. Just remember, your friend will never be allowed. If you return, it will be alone.”

“I understand,” Silas said. “And I am grateful for your hospitality, but like I said, the way you live here isn’t for me. This selective community. It will never be for me.”

“Fair enough,” she said, holding out her hand. “Farewell forever, then.”

Silas accepted her handshake. “Farewell forever, Riley.”