spill half.
No objection, not so much as a squeak.
“What’s yer name, mousy?”
He grunts, stooping to pick up the rocks.
I pull him up, shake him by the shoulders. He’s limp in my paws, flopping him around like a drunk on payday. “I’m talkin’ to you!”
Nothing. Just stares with the same empty eyes. A coldness steals over me, stinging right into my bones.
I let go.
He goes back to picking up the ore. Doesn’t call out, doesn’t complain, just piles it all back in and staggers on.
I run.
A few wrong turns later, I find two guards: a rat and a big ol’ bull of a panther. They’re standing in front of a locked door. Possible it’s not the lawbat, but after what I just saw, I don’t care much what I wreck up for these folk. I ain’t keen to stay here until I turn out like that mousy.
I hop in and sidle against the wall behind the rat. I kick hard as I can against his back. The rat makes a flight Blake’d be proud of, prompted by my boot. Flies square into the panther. I wince as they go down, hollering and hawing; the rat’s head finds the wall with a sick thud. The big panther gets off easier. I spy him struggling from under his deadweight amigo and introduce his face to the butt of my gun. He goes down too.
Snatching the keys from his pocket, along with a surprising wad of cash, I unfix the padlock on the door cemented into the cave wall. Inside the little room, I find Blake, blindfolded and bound, but otherwise pretty as you please. “Howdy, lawbat.”
His bleary eyes set on me. “Sigth? Ow id ooh ind ee?”
I uncork his gag. “Hush now. We’ve got some gone to get.” My knife chews through his bonds. He tries to stand, but gets up too sudden and stumbles into my arms. I heave him over my shoulder.
In the space of a spit, the darkness bares teeth and claws. The panther leaps for my foot. I bounce, hopping outta the way and running out the door. He swears some fancy foreign cussing as I slam the door shut and affix the padlock. Seems this is becoming a habit with men. We vamoose down the hall.
We make good time, though I get a touch woozy whenever I pass a shinier part of the wall. Metal-looking rocks are scattered all over and seep into my mind with frantic whispers. How or why is well beyond me— I just figure getting out of here is the surest bet for remedying this affliction. I run through the cave, springing over standing stones as best I can see ‘em. Now I know how Hayes got so rich: skimping on lanterns.
A great bellering kicks up behind us. Seems the guards found their feet. Hard to tell how close, what with all these damn whispers and natural echoes. I drag Blake with me by the shoulder, heading for the light of the mine proper.
A paw grabs my hip. I pound it, thinking it might be that panther again, only to hear the bat’s muffled yelp. I wonder what Blake is doing, then feel the Bowie knife slip from my belt. Won’t do him much good if he can’t see who to stab. My shins bash into one of the rocks. I holler, hitting the floor. Death stares down at me from the blackness. I catch glimpses of impossible faces, rabbit faces, in the dark. One of ‘em even looked like... No. I’m not seeing my dead daddy’s ghost in this skunkhole of a mine.
A velvet wing sweeps past my ear. Strong hind paws grip my shoulders. Wind whips past my face. I hear Blake grunting, flapping like mad. I’m up. My boots are back under me and I’m running, the bat dragging me. We make it through the larger cave, though I get dragged into a few of those standing stones.
We get to the mine tunnels. Blake somehow knows they are too narrow to fly through. I then realize he’s a bat: he can see. We turn a corner. I slam into somebody who smells like a bunny, knocking the somebody on his ass.
His lantern falls to the floor and the sputtering light gives me one look at the hare’s face. He was the old man standing next to Hayes. I feel a pinch of loyalty to my fellow bunny, but not enough to slow
No objection, not so much as a squeak.
“What’s yer name, mousy?”
He grunts, stooping to pick up the rocks.
I pull him up, shake him by the shoulders. He’s limp in my paws, flopping him around like a drunk on payday. “I’m talkin’ to you!”
Nothing. Just stares with the same empty eyes. A coldness steals over me, stinging right into my bones.
I let go.
He goes back to picking up the ore. Doesn’t call out, doesn’t complain, just piles it all back in and staggers on.
I run.
A few wrong turns later, I find two guards: a rat and a big ol’ bull of a panther. They’re standing in front of a locked door. Possible it’s not the lawbat, but after what I just saw, I don’t care much what I wreck up for these folk. I ain’t keen to stay here until I turn out like that mousy.
I hop in and sidle against the wall behind the rat. I kick hard as I can against his back. The rat makes a flight Blake’d be proud of, prompted by my boot. Flies square into the panther. I wince as they go down, hollering and hawing; the rat’s head finds the wall with a sick thud. The big panther gets off easier. I spy him struggling from under his deadweight amigo and introduce his face to the butt of my gun. He goes down too.
Snatching the keys from his pocket, along with a surprising wad of cash, I unfix the padlock on the door cemented into the cave wall. Inside the little room, I find Blake, blindfolded and bound, but otherwise pretty as you please. “Howdy, lawbat.”
His bleary eyes set on me. “Sigth? Ow id ooh ind ee?”
I uncork his gag. “Hush now. We’ve got some gone to get.” My knife chews through his bonds. He tries to stand, but gets up too sudden and stumbles into my arms. I heave him over my shoulder.
In the space of a spit, the darkness bares teeth and claws. The panther leaps for my foot. I bounce, hopping outta the way and running out the door. He swears some fancy foreign cussing as I slam the door shut and affix the padlock. Seems this is becoming a habit with men. We vamoose down the hall.
We make good time, though I get a touch woozy whenever I pass a shinier part of the wall. Metal-looking rocks are scattered all over and seep into my mind with frantic whispers. How or why is well beyond me— I just figure getting out of here is the surest bet for remedying this affliction. I run through the cave, springing over standing stones as best I can see ‘em. Now I know how Hayes got so rich: skimping on lanterns.
A great bellering kicks up behind us. Seems the guards found their feet. Hard to tell how close, what with all these damn whispers and natural echoes. I drag Blake with me by the shoulder, heading for the light of the mine proper.
A paw grabs my hip. I pound it, thinking it might be that panther again, only to hear the bat’s muffled yelp. I wonder what Blake is doing, then feel the Bowie knife slip from my belt. Won’t do him much good if he can’t see who to stab. My shins bash into one of the rocks. I holler, hitting the floor. Death stares down at me from the blackness. I catch glimpses of impossible faces, rabbit faces, in the dark. One of ‘em even looked like... No. I’m not seeing my dead daddy’s ghost in this skunkhole of a mine.
A velvet wing sweeps past my ear. Strong hind paws grip my shoulders. Wind whips past my face. I hear Blake grunting, flapping like mad. I’m up. My boots are back under me and I’m running, the bat dragging me. We make it through the larger cave, though I get dragged into a few of those standing stones.
We get to the mine tunnels. Blake somehow knows they are too narrow to fly through. I then realize he’s a bat: he can see. We turn a corner. I slam into somebody who smells like a bunny, knocking the somebody on his ass.
His lantern falls to the floor and the sputtering light gives me one look at the hare’s face. He was the old man standing next to Hayes. I feel a pinch of loyalty to my fellow bunny, but not enough to slow
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