He’d almost gotten into a clinch with me. That had been close. Way too close. It was time to end this before he got lucky.

  I feinted left, then right, watching his eyes track my movements. When he committed to a punch, I slipped inside his guard, hammering a series of short, sharp strikes into his solar plexus.

  Finally, he folded up like a broken lawn chair, gasping for air. To make sure, I followed up with a knee to the face that sent him sprawling on his butt in the dust.

  For a moment, nobody moved. The Dusters stared in disbelief. They wore expressions of surprise and grudging respect.

  Everybody was impressed except for Megan, that is. She looked like she wanted to throttle me. “Tanner, that was mean!”

  “You’ve got to be kidding. Look at him—he can take a punch.”

  I stood over Hammer, breathing hard, waiting for him to get up and come at me again. But to my shock, the big man started laughing. A deep, booming laugh shook his whole body.

  “Not bad, fucker,” he said, grinning up at me through a mouthful of blood. “Not bad at all. I can’t remember the last time a man put me down in the dust.”

  Taking a chance, I reached down and grasped Hammer’s meaty paw. I half-expected him to yank me down into the dirt for another round.

  But I’d judged him well. He just grinned up at me and let me haul him to his feet.

  “You’re a dick, Tanner,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder with enough force to make me stumble. “But anyone who can throw down like that is welcome to Barfight in my book.”

  I was still wary, watching the crowd, but despite a few dark looks, no one was making a move. Shrugging, I took their change in attitude at face value. “You didn’t make it easy, Vargo. Good fight.”

  Hammer threw an arm around my shoulder, which stung my sunburn, but I didn’t let on. He steered me toward the center of the outpost. “Come on, let me buy you a drink. That’s the least I can do after you handed me my ass.”

  I glanced over at Megan. She was watching us with a bemused expression.

  “One drink,” she said, waving us off. “I’ll get my walker ready.”

  “What about mine?” I asked.

  “You blew the battery. It can hardly move. The repairs will take days.”

  I winced. We didn’t have days to lollygag in town. Still, a drink sounded really good right now.

  Hammer led me into a makeshift bar that had been set up in one of the abandoned buildings. The place was packed with Dusters. Everyone eyed me carefully as I entered. I was the new dog in town, and I wondered if any more of these fleabags would want to sniff my butt and start a fight.

  Hammer shoved his way through the crowd, bellowing for the bartender to pour us a couple of shots. The man behind the counter, a grizzled old-timer with a patch over one eye, thumped two lumpy pottery mugs of clear liquid onto the bar.

  “To new friends,” Hammer said, raising his cup in a toast.

  I clinked mine against his, then threw down the shot. It burned like hellfire going down, but I managed not to cough or sputter.

  Hammer slammed his empty mug down on the bar, then turned to face me, his expression suddenly serious.

  “Listen, Tanner,” he said with relatively low volume. Only I could hear him over the din of the bar. “I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I want you to know that’s all done with now. Just try to keep your snout out of Megan’s goods, and we’ll be fine.”

  I thought that over and nodded. “You got it.”

  He clapped me on the shoulder again, making me wince. Why was it no human ever respected another man’s blazing red skin?

  “Another round, Snuffs,” Hammer told the man behind the bar. “And keep ‘em coming. We’ve got some plotting to do.”

  I threw back another shot of the rot-gut Hammer called booze. It tasted like engine degreaser, but I didn’t choke.

  Over the next hour, I explained to Hammer what I’d heard from. Overlord Janson. He was pretty easy to convince. Flint was going to be double-crossed and murdered.

  The Hammer’s face was purple with rage by the time I’d covered the basics. He slammed a ham-sized fist down on the bar, making the glasses jump and clatter. “Peace, prosperity for all, they said! The Techborn always lie! I’ll tear Janson apart with my bare hands!”

  “Can you get me to the meeting spot before it’s too late?” I asked.

  Hammer threw a little fit, knocking over his stool. “We can try! Let’s saddle up and ride!”

  Hammer Vargo was a man of action. Even better, he had access to two fresh walkers and some supplies. We rode out of Barfight Outpost like a couple of thieves on the run. Hammer’s whooping and hollering carried across the barren landscape of the Red Desert. Me, I kept my mouth shut and my eyes on the horizon. It wouldn’t do to get ourselves ambushed immediately.

  My fresh walker was fully charged and raring to go. Hammer’s ride looked like it had seen better days, but he swore up and down it could outrun anything the Techborn could throw at us. I had my doubts, but I kept them to myself.

  We rode hard and fast, all night long. When day broke, we camped and snatched a few hours of sleep. I was sore and in a sour mood, but Hammer kept up a constant stream of chatter. He kept bragging about all the ways he was going to make the Techborn pay for their treachery.

  “I’m gonna rip Janson’s head off and use it as a football,” he declared, his words booming across the desert. “I’ll wrap it up in a leather bag, so it’ll last longer.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Then, I’m gonna take that fancy armor of his and turn it into a toilet seat for Megan’s pretty behind. She’d like that.”

  We rode all day and all night, stopping only to take a piss and choke down some tasteless ration bars. My ass was sore as hell from sitting in the saddle for so long, but I didn’t complain. Pain was just a happy reminder that I was still alive.

  Hammer, on the other hand, seemed to be having the time of his life. He regaled me with stories of his exploits, each one more outrageous than the last. I listened with half an ear, my mind mostly staying on the trackless waste that surrounded us.

  Chapter 23

  We rode across the Red Desert for two long days and nights. In the late afternoon of the third day, the landscape was a wasteland of rusted sand. Desert plants are almost always ugly, and the odd monstrosities that grew here on Haven-7 were no exception. As the daylight began to fade, the growths looked like they’d been dipped in blood.

  Naturally, I was paranoid. I kept my eyes peeled for any sign of trouble, my hand never far from my buzzblade and my shredder.

  Hammer, on the other hand, seemed more interested in running his mouth than watching for danger. Instead of telling me what he was going to do with the Techborn, he was now on a different rant. He regaled me with stories of Flint Evans, the rebel leader we were risking our necks to save.

  “Flint is a legend, man,” he said with what I thought was undue admiration. “I once saw him take down a Tusker with three tusks, all by himself. He wears them on a necklace now, as a trophy.”

  “Is that right?” I said, only half-listening.

  “Damn, straight. Flint is the real deal, Tanner. He’s gonna lead us to victory against those metal-headed pricks, mark my words.”

  I grunted in response. To my mind, all that mattered was that we got to Flint before Janson and his goons did. Without leadership, the rebellion was as good as dead.

  We rode deeper into the desert with every hour. It seemed to me the landscape was growing even more alien and forbidding the farther we went. Strange, spiny creatures scuttled across the sand, their chitinous shells gleaming in the harsh sunlight. I caught a glimpse of something that looked like a cross between a scorpion and a centipede, its segmented body as long as my arm.

  “What the hell is that?” I demanded, pointing.

  Hammer just laughed. “That’s a sand reaper, Tanner. Nasty little bastards, but they’re nothing compared to the real monsters out here.”

  I didn’t bother asking what he meant by that. If I asked him if he was talking about the Techborn or more animals, he’d talk for another hour. I learn slowly, but I do learn.

  We rode on, and the sun sank lower in the sky. Hammer kept up his endless chatter most of the time. He especially enjoyed regaling me with stories of Flint’s exploits. I listened with half an ear and tried not to fall asleep in the saddle.

  “I’m telling you, Tanner, Flint is the best shot on this side of the planet. I once saw him take down a Techborn sniper from a mile away—a frigging mile! I swear it, no lie! One shot, that was all it took. His rusty old thunderbolt nailed that guy. Poor bastard never saw it coming.”

  As dusk approached, I called Hammer to a halt. I’d glimpsed movement far out across the land. I raised my thunderbolt rifle, peering through the scope.

  “What?” Hammer asked, peering. “What do you see?”

  “Shut up,” I muttered, my finger tightening on the trigger.

  I squeezed off a shot. The thunderbolt’s report echoed off the walls of a nearby canyon. A large bird that looked something like the metal beasts we were riding on crumpled to the ground. Its feathers fluttered in the breeze.

  Hammer let out a low whistle. “Good shot, Tanner! That’s a desert emu. Those things are good eating.”

  I lowered my rifle. “Fresh meat tonight.”

  We rode over to the fallen bird. Its lifeless eyes stared up at the harsh sun. I dismounted, pulling out my buzzblade to carve up our dinner.

  We lit a campfire and cooked our kill. It was a chance to fill our bellies and gather our strength for the fight ahead. As I sawed off chunks of cooked meat, I tossed most of them to Hammer. He caught them all with the agility of a starving dog.

  “You’re a good cook, Tanner. Maybe you’re not just a pretty face after all.”

  “Shut up and eat. We’ve still got one more long ride ahead of us.”

  We filled our bellies and stretched out to sleep.

  I woke to the sound of frantic scuffling. My eyes snapped open, my hand instinctively reaching for my buzzblade. But it was just Hammer, madly kicking sand onto the dying embers of our campfire.

  The first light of dawn was just starting to creep over the horizon, painting the sky a pale pink. I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

  “What’s the rush?” I asked, my voice still rough with sleep.

  Hammer pointed to the horizon, his face grim. “Smoke,” he said. “Where there’s smoke, there’s people. We can’t risk anyone tracing us back here.”

  I nodded, understanding his concern. We were deep in enemy territory, and the last thing we needed was a bunch of Techborn goons on our tail.

  We packed up quickly, erasing any sign of our presence. We even buried our coals with sand. Then we mounted up and rode out, keeping low to the ground to avoid being spotted.

  As we got closer to the source of the smoke, I could see that it was coming from a large encampment. Dozens of tents were scattered across the desert floor, their canvas awnings flapping in the morning breeze.

  I reached for my thunderbolt, ready for trouble. But Hammer let out a whoop of joy, his face splitting into a wide grin.

  “Dusters!” he cried, pointing at the figures milling around the camp. “It’s a rebel company, Tanner. We found them!”

  Before I could stop him, Hammer spurred his walker forward, charging down the hill towards the encampment. I cursed under my breath, torn between following him and hanging back to assess the situation.

  I didn’t trust easily, especially not out here in the Red Desert. Hammer might have been convinced that these were friendly faces—but I wasn’t so sure.

  Urging my walker forward at a more cautious pace, my eyes scanned the camp for any sign of trouble. The figures below had noticed Hammer’s approach, and were starting to gather around him, their weapons at the ready.

  Chapter 24

  The rebels were a rough bunch. All had sun-weathered skin and hard eyes. Hammer was already in the thick of it, shaking hands and slapping backs like he’d known these people all his life—of course, he probably had.

  Stepping my walker closer, I eyed the crowd of rebels warily.

  “Tanner, get the fuck over here!” Hammer called, waving me over. “You big chicken! I want you to meet some folks.”

  I approached cautiously, my hand never straying far from my buzzblade. These men were obviously Dusters, but that didn’t mean they were my best friends.

  When I slid out of the saddle, Hammer threw an arm around my shoulders. He grinned like a madman.

  “This here’s Dane Tanner,” he said, booming across the encampment. “He’s the one I was telling you about. The man who broke his torc and escaped from the Arabella all by himself!”

  A buzz went through the crowd after that. I could feel their eyes on me, sizing me up. Some looked impressed, others skeptical. I didn’t blame them. I wouldn’t have believed it either, if I hadn’t lived through it myself.

  “He’s wanted by the Techborn,” Hammer continued, oblivious to the growing tension in the air. “They’ve got a price on his head big enough to buy this whole damn planet.”

  That got their attention. It actually started to quiet down, and I saw a few hands drift toward weapons. Was somebody here looking for a payoff? Rebels and outlaws—weren’t they almost the same thing?

  Then a new voice rang out across the encampment.

  “Stand down, all of you.”

  The crowd parted, revealing a man striding towards us. He was tall and lean with an eagle’s nose and squinting eyes. These fixed on me with an intensity that normal people probably found disturbing.

  “Flint Evans!” Hammer boomed. “This is the man I was telling you about.”

  Flint studied me for a long moment, his gaze never wavering. I met his stare with one of my own, refusing to be cowed. Finally, he spoke.

  “I’ve heard the name…” he said. “You’re a wanted man, Tanner. The Techborn don’t love murderers.”

  I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “What can I say? I’m not one for following rules, especially from those pompous blowhards.”

  Flint’s mouth twitched, like he was fighting back a smile. “I can see that,” he said. He turned to Hammer. “You vouch for him?”

  Hammer nodded. “With my life,” he said firmly.

  Flint turned back to me. “All right, Tanner,” he said. “You’re in, but if you bring trouble down on us, you’ll answer to me. Understood?”

  “Sounds fair…” I said, figuring Hammer had my vote for the most likely to cause accidental doom. But I didn’t say anything. For now, I had a place among the rebels. It was a start.

  Flint led me to a makeshift command center, a large tent filled with maps and weapons. He studied me with those piercing eyes. “So, Tanner. Hammer says you have information about the Techborn. Spill it.”

  I took a deep breath. “They’re planning to ambush you during the peace talks. It’s a trap.”

  Flint scoffed. “You think I don’t know that? I’m not some naive fool, Tanner. I’ve been fighting the Techborn for years.”

  I shook my head. “You don’t understand. They’ve got something planned, something big. Janson himself is leading the attack.”

  Flint’s eyes narrowed. “Janson? That slimy bastard wouldn’t have the guts to face me himself.”

  “I came a long way across this ass-melting desert to warn you. Are you the kind of man who listens to warnings?”

  Flint squinted and paced. Suddenly, he stopped. He cocked his head and peered at me. “Who, exactly, did you murder?”

  “What?”

  “When we first met, I told you that the Techborn were after you.”

  “Yeah, sure… I was a slave there. I escaped.”

  Flint shook his head slowly. “The Techborn don’t chase escaped slaves all the way across the Red Desert. You’re more than that.”

  I threw up my hands. “I might have killed a guard on the way out. Maybe that has them pissed.”

  Flint squinted some more, but he seemed ready to move on to a new topic. But right then, Hammer barged into the tent. “Tanner is being modest!” he declared.

  “What?” Flint asked him.

  “He told me all about it, Flint! Tanner here took out Kade like he was nothing. Sliced him up real good with that buzzblade of his.”

  Flint’s eyes widened. “Kade? As in, the son of Overlord Janson?”

  Hammer grinned like a fool. The big man couldn’t keep his mouth shut to save his life. “That’s the one! Tanner’s got some serious skills. You should make him an officer.”

  I could see the wheels turning in Flint’s head. This was not good. Killing Kade was going to have consequences, and Flint knew it.

  “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Flint hissed, rounding on me. “Janson’s not going to let this go. He’ll be out for blood. I’m trying to negotiate peace, here.”

  I met his gaze, unflinching. “I did what I had to do. Kade was a threat to the Dusters. To all of us. It doesn’t matter, anyway. The Techborn aren’t really interested in peace.”

  Flint shook his head. “You don’t understand. I’ve been trying to broker a peace deal with the Techborn, to end this war before it consumes us all. But with Kade dead? I can’t be associated with his murderer. By all rights, I should hand you over to the Techborn. That might seal the deal.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. After everything I’d done for these prick Dusters, Flint was considering throwing me to the wolves.

  “You can’t be serious,” I growled, my hand inching towards my buzzblade. “I risked my life to warn you about the Techborn’s plans. Now, you want to sell me out?”

  Flint held up his hands, placating. “Easy, Tanner. I’m just thinking out loud, here. I don’t want to hand you over any more than you want to go. But it’s my job to consider all options.”

  I shook my head in disgust. “If this is how you treat your allies, Flint, then maybe I’m better off on my own.”

  “Wait a second,” Hammer said. “We want to join you guys—to join the rebel army!”