Tales of the Wastelander Ch. 22 - Teaser (Patreon)

“What… took you… so long?” he chuckled, as they came at him from the front door.

“Gentlemen, please, hold your horses!” Markie said, catching the attention of everyone there.

“Well, well, well! A redheaded Pinkskin?!? Will wonders never cease? How about you…” Damhian said to the woman, before he gasped in pain as she kicked him straight in the balls. The boy fell to his knees, wheezing as he tried to massage the pain away.

“You might want to get yourself a good feel of those. I doubt you’ll be having them for much longer,” Markie taunted with a smirk, as she walked away from him.

“You’re the bitch that killed my brother?!?” he demanded, thinking his flunkies had made a mistake with who killed him.

“She didn’t kill your brother. I did,” Samara told him, cocking her head to one side as she ambled forward with her hand cannon in her grip. Damhian looked at Samara venomously and was about ready to pounce on her, when a shot rang out, startling the man. He searched for the origin of that shot and found the other, taller woman with brown hair pointing a pistol at him.

“You might want to keep your ass on the ground, if you know what’s good for you,” Chelsea laughed as she saw the fear etched onto his face.

“You’re really brave, with that weapon of yours pointed at me. I’ll bet you couldn’t take me on without it,” Damhian taunted.

Some of the men made faces as they saw Chelsea click the safety on her gun and toss it to Markie. Damhian laughed, thinking himself quite clever in goading Chelsea into a fight. What he didn’t realize was what Chelsea was capable of, which he found out instantaneously. In seconds, Chelsea had delivered several blows to the pressure points on his body, beating the man down hard.

The last time Chelsea used her skills on someone, she restrained herself, as she didn’t want to injure the man she sparred with. Now Chelsea was more than fine with delivering some serious and crippling damage to this piece of shit. She didn’t want to just hurt him, but humiliate him. To show those who followed Damhian just what a weak and desperate man he truly was.

In less than five minutes, Chelsea had laid the bastard out, nearly breaking him in the process. The men looked on indifferently, as this boy had caused untold amounts of trouble for them and people they knew. The moment Chelsea was finished, she sauntered away from Damhian, smiling and looking very pleased with herself. She turned around and addressed the boy, who was mewling in pain like a day old kitten.

“Not so tough without your boys backing you up, are you? If anyone is the weakling coward around here, it’s you. A Pinkskin girl half your size and a third your weight just kicked your ass. Tell me, how does it feel?” Chelsea taunted. Damhian just moaned, in far more pain than he ever realized was possible. He tried to get up, but found he could not, as to even get on all fours was painful.

“Really, Chels? Was that necessary?” Samara asked, giving her friend a look.

“Necessary, maybe not. But it was fun! It’s not like I could get away with doing shit like that to asshats like him… where we’re from,” Chelsea reminded her friend, keeping the secret of when they were from.

“Touché! Unless there are laws that prevent us from beating people up for doing horrible shit like he’s done?” Samara asked, directing her question to Kharno.

“Nope! No laws against it, as long as you have justification for doing it! In this case, you ladies were more than justified! Hell, I don’t think any of us could have done it quite so well!” Kharno laughed.

“When you used those moves on me… you were holding back?” Noylahn asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.