He turned as a shower of blood and guts came spraying his way. Squinting, ducking, he raised an arm to cover his head. Splinters and blood splatter fell all around. One of the wandering pet dengals had started chewing on the package left on the table. What was left of the animal was nothing but a shattered bloody mass, white backbone showing. Clumps of dengal flesh littered the lawn and splattered the nearest side of the lodge.
“Jesus Holy Mary fuck!” Banzari came stumbling up, the front of his jacket blood-smeared.
Yul hissed a feral breath. He crouched, hand on his E1. “I told you about that box, Banzari.”
Banzari stared in shock, his face white as a ghost. “I didn’t think about the animals.”
“Should’ve told you to put that package in a safe place.”
Banzari shook his head in misery. “I raised that dengal from a foal, Yul. I told you, seven years ago.”
Trixie, stopped dead in her tracks, stood mute, an unmoving statue.
“Come on, Yul, Trix, we’re going to have to report this.” Banzari grabbed her arm.
Yul stopped him. “You go, Banzari. I’m going to stay here. Maybe leave Trixie behind so she can show me around.”
He nodded, pawing at his begrimed chest. “Trix you stay here with Yul then. More you two work together, the better. Don’t want to leave this ranch unattended.”
She gave a gobbling sound of acknowledgement.
“Wait, one more thing. Who would inherit should you croak?”
Banzari wiped a smear of blood from his bare arm. “Used to have investors, part owners in the business. Bought them out just before this enterprise picked up. Only have a nephew offworld. Haven’t seen hide nor hair of him for years and from what I gather, he’s not interested in the business.”
“So, it’s easy for Veramax to scoop it out from under him?”
“Sure.”
“Poachers, be damned, Banzari. This is an act of vengeance,” grumbled Yul. “You piss anybody off you aren’t telling me about?”
“Just those bastards trying to wrestle away my ranch,” Banzari said with a spurt of anger.
Yul grunted, appeased. “Go, report it then. Do what you need to do.”
“What about this mess?”
“Leave it for the police. Too bad we didn’t have the bomb as evidence.”
Yul played over the scenario in his mind. Police combing the area, bomb experts taking evidence, special officers asking him a bunch of awkward questions. Under no circumstances did he want to be here during interrogation hour.
Banzari gave a raspy sigh. “I gotta go. Snoop around, come up with a way to punish the bastards that did this. That could have been my flesh you’re wiping off your faces.” He staggered to the utility shed, backed out one of the dust buggies and hit the throttle.
Yul watched the old electric-powered dune-buggy take off down the driveway, spinning gravel.
“How far to the last snatch site?” he asked Trixie.
“About half hour by buggy to the west side of the range. It ain’t pretty.”
“Let’s go then. No use waiting around for their next move. I’m gonna need some more info, see firsthand this poaching site, look for evidence and clues.”
She shrugged. “If you want to get back before nightfall, best to leave now.”
They took one of the spare buggies in the shed, a yellow four-wheeler with open sides and steel crossbars curled over the top. Two other vehicles sat parked alongside with mud-caked tires of rough tread. The place smelled of must, mice and old oil spills. Trixie flicked the starter and the electric engine whirred to life without a hitch. She backed it out of the dim space and they bounded down the rough dirt track, following the line of the fence toward the forest. The dengals, ears perked, loped after them on the other side of the fence with curious looks. Their jaws hung open, calling to each other in their wild, neighing language.
Trixie called over her shoulder. “Dengals are more curious than cats. Look! Vreckin, the varmint. He runs right beside us in the front, riles them up so they follow. Not even spooked by the blast. King of the herd.”
“Good for Vreckin,” Yul muttered. “Let’s just hope he’s as friendly as you say.”
“That’ll be up to Vreckin.”
The lodge and outbuildings fell behind them and faded from sight. At last, they lost sight of the dengals too.
The wind whipped by Yul’s ear. Trix opened up the throttle and they bounced down the rough track, the balloon tires and minimal suspension taking the potholes and humps. Yul gripped the cross bars in a white-knuckled fist. A mischievous smile clung on Trixie’s thick lips.
Chapter 4
Not far into the journey, the engine started running rough, cutting in and out.
“What’s wrong with this thing?” Yul asked.
“Don’t know.” Trixie’s lip quivered. “Hasn’t acted up till lately. Damn Lan! He should’ve had it serviced.”
Shoulda, woulda, coulda.
The engine coughed and died. They rolled to a halt. Yul stepped out right onto an anthill. He stamped his feet free of ants and hopped over to some fallen logs. The tall trees bent above them, boughs swishing in the light breeze. The electric fence lay to their left.
Yul moved to the buggy’s front and lifted the cowling, squinted at the oily engine. “Murphy’s law at work.”
Trixie stared in frustration. “Great timing, having this thing break down.”
“No break down, look.” Yul pointed to a sharp bulge in the battery housing. “Sabotage. Banzari’s friends must have attached a time-release acid.”
“Can we fix it?”
“I doubt it.”
“I’ll call Lan.” She flipped out her handheld. It rang several times. “He’s not answering.”
With the engine dying, Yul had to wonder if
