Deadlands - Hell on Earth - Killer Clowns.pdf

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KillerClowns
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Killer Clowns
Written b
y: John Goff
Editing & Layout:
out: John Hopler
CCover Art:
er Art: Tom Fowler
Logos: Zeke Sparkes, Ron Spencer & Charles Ryan
Graphic Design: Hal Mangold
Maps: Hal Mangold
Interior Art: Ashe Marler
This electronic book is copyright Pinnacle Entertainment Group.
Redistribution by print or by file is strictly prohibited.
Add 1 to all Page Number References to account for the cover of this Ebook.
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oup, Inc.
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on Earth sublogo, the Pinnacle Starburst, and the Pinnacle logo are Trademarks of Pinnacle
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Printed in the United States.
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Deadlands TM : Hell on Earth TM Dime Novel #3
y:
ritten b
ritten by:
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Editing & La
out:
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Co
er Art:
Logos:
Graphic Design:
Maps:
Interior Art:
Pinnacle Entertainment Gr
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Who’s Laughin’ Now?
“So, when Dempsey Wilton discovered there was no cure for
his condition, he hired the top medical specialists and scientists
in the world. He had all of them brought right out there to the
islands.” Teller had the posse spellbound with his version of the
old urban legend.
“Rather than accept his inevitable fate, he tried to cheat death.
Wilton had them cut his head from his body and freeze it. Then
the grisly package was placed in a life-support system
underneath one of the islands in the park. Needless to say,
attendance began to drop off when word got around there was a
disembodied head under Dempsey Islands! I bet it’s still out
there somewhere—alive but not alive in its cryogenic freezer—to
this day.”
“Jeez, mister,” asked a young man sitting on the floor nearby,
“you don’t believe that, do you?”
“Well, it’s not what I believe that matters,” Teller answered. “It’s
what’s a fact and what isn’t that does. Anyway, it looks like the
sun’s about down. Time to get ready.”
It might have been his military experience, or maybe it was
just the way he carried himself, but a few days ago, he had
somehow found himself in charge of a small posse of townsfolk
chasing a bandit gang across southeastern Texas. The scavs had
raided a small community to the north, taking some of the
townsfolk hostage in the process. Teller had agreed to help hunt
the gang down and rescue the captives. The raiders had taken
almost everything of value in the village, but the people had
been able to scrounge enough up to make an adequate offer of
payment.
Page 4
Chapter One:
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Killer Clowns
A group of eight townsfolk had volunteered to go along as
well. Many of these were hunters who’d been out of the village
when the attack came.
The small community was a favorite trading spot for travelers,
and a couple of other outsiders had thrown in with the group as
well. The woman Brooks was one of those. The other was a
standoffish fellow named Roth. That name sounded familiar to
him, but so far, Teller hadn’t been able to dredge anything out of
his memory. Normally, he didn’t like working with strangers, but
according to the reports, there were nearly 20 gangers in the
group. A few extra guns never hurt.
Brooks had tracked the bandits to an oceanfront building at
the edge of an enormous parking lot. The building turned out to
be a monorail terminal, the point of departure for Dempsey
Islands, an old amusement park back in the days before the Big
Bang. Built on a series of six or seven islands in the Gulf of
Mexico, it had been the largest such construction in the world at
one time. Now, like most of man’s other creations, it sat empty.
The scout scoured the area around the terminal and found no
sign of the raiders’ trail. The only way they could have gone was
across the bridge. Teller couldn’t fault the wisdom of the raiders’
choice—the island provided the perfect lair. It was likely to have
shelter and maybe even residual power from its own generators.
Better yet, it had only one approach—the posse would have to
cross almost a half mile of exposed bridge with nowhere to
hide except the waters of the Gulf.
Teller hoped the raiders had only just stumbled on the park
and the heroes weren’t advancing into a carefully prepared killing
ground.
On his advice, the group had holed up in the terminal to
await nightfall. The cover of darkness just might let them sneak
across the bridge without becoming bullet magnets. He’d tried to
pass the time and ease the men’s nerves with a couple of
stories and couldn’t resist the last one about the former owner
of the park. Unfortunately, his choice seemed to have backfired
on him—most of the group seemed even edgier than before.
Teller moved over to where Brooks had taken up a position
near where the rails left the building.
“How’s it look?”
“Bad. I’m pretty sure if you’d asked me this morning what the
worst route of approach I could have imagined was, I’d have
described something damn near this monorail.”
“I agree, but I don’t see any other choice,” Teller said. “I’m
hoping if we move in tonight we can catch them while they’re
still tired from the trip. Maybe even before anything serious
happens to the captives.”
“Might I suggest we don’t take the whole pack of yokels with
us? We’ll have enough trouble on our hands without having to
Page 5
Killer Clowns
play nursemaid to a bunch of nervous weekend warriors. We’re
just as likely to get shot by them as the bad guys.”
“Fair enough,” Teller answered. “I’ll ask for volunteers. After
that last story it doesn’t seem like too many are going to be
jumping at the chance to go out to the islands anyway.”
When he asked for volunteers, they kicked at the ground and
avoided his eyes. Like he’d suspected, most of the men in his
makeshift posse had lost their sense of urgency. Teller had seen
this all too often since the War. As long as there was no real
risk, there were plenty of “heroes,” but once the chips were
down, most folks just rolled over and hoped someone else would
carry the load.
Only one man stepped forward. Roth didn’t say a word, he just
picked up his battered duster and walked over to where Teller
stood. At least he carried himself like he knew what he was
about, Teller thought. As the man pulled on his duster, Teller
noticed he had a well-worn, twin shoulder-holster rig holding a
pair of 9mm automatic pistols.
“The rest of you wait here until we get back.” To be honest
with himself, Teller doubted half the band would even stay the
night in the station. The two men walked back to where Brooks
crouched by the doorway.
“Okay, I managed to talk the others out of going, Brooks,” he
halfheartedly joked. “It’s just the three of us—assuming you’re in.”
He hoped the woman was going. Over the past few days she’d
proved herself to be one of the stealthiest scouts he’d ever seen.
She’d served as a sniper during the Last War, and, although he
hadn’t asked which side, the NA M-42 sniper rifle she carried
gave Teller a good idea what color her uniform had been.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” she sighed as she rose to
her feet. “You boys think you can keep your feet on the rail out
there?”
Chapter Two
The trestle proved to be easier to negotiate than Teller had
first thought. It was nearly four feet wide, and, although a metal
rail took up the middle foot and a half, there was still ample
room for the three to walk single file. A good thing too, he
added to himself, since God only knew what was swimming in
the ocean water 15 feet below them.
There were a couple of tense moments during the crossing
when they came to places where the concrete had fallen away,
but they’d been able to scamper around them with little trouble.
About 10 minutes into the trip, Brooks hissed back at the men
to stop. She lowered herself to a crouch and slid carefully
forward along the rail another 20 yards or so. After a few
minutes, she moved back to where they waited.
Page 6

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