Chapter 5
Gunner
After a fleeting rush and a split-second sensation of turning inside out, Gunner’s feet made contact with solid ground, and he crumpled.
“Did he just pass out?” Horatio asked as he rushed over.
“Your friend had a bit of a shock.”
“A bit of a shock?” Gunner wheezed. “Try a jolt of terror that will haunt my therapy sessions for years.”
They’d landed in a quiet, wooded area weakly lit by a setting sun. Numb, Gunner struggled to sit. “The dude in the middle didn’t have any eyes.” He hunched forward, elbows braced on his knees. “Just empty sockets.”
“Who did you run into? Satan?” Horatio sat close and put an arm around his shoulders.
“Your arch enemy showed up, dressed like a nightmare.”
“Fucking Meridian. It’s a mask, Gunner. Just silicone and paint, topped off with freaky contact lenses.”
Gunner leaned into Horatio’s warmth. “But it looked so real.”
“Sure did. That skull was the scariest false face I’ve seen him wear so far.” Snake grimaced. “But you were brave, pet. Tell Horatio what you shouted at him.”
“He asked where you were, and I said it was none of his fucking business. Then,” Gunner stopped to take a deep breath, “he called me a cute little twink. What the fuck?”
Horatio smirked. “You’re really more of a twunk.”
Gunner blinked. “Twunk?”
“Twink plus hunk.”
“Accurate.” Snake stood. “Whelp, Gunner’s trembling like a newborn foal, and I used my last gas bomb on Meridian.” He shook a finger at them. “You two stay hidden while I nip into Ting’s shop. At least until Horatio reunites with his britches.”
Behind a cluster of brambles, a stream bubbled. They sat close on top of a flat rock, sipping cool water from cupped hands. A breeze carried the scent of molten metal and ash.
Horatio sniffed. “Ting’s cooking up something volatile today. He keeps pirates everywhere stocked with ammunition, bombs, and other illegal items.”
“That sphere Snake chucked at them packed a punch.”
“Highly concentrated tear gas.” Horatio rubbed Gunner’s back. “Sorry I wasn’t there. Meridian’s scary enough on a video chat. I can’t imagine seeing him in person.”
“Have you ever seen his real face?”
“No. He’s never appeared in person before. The dude’s a freak and a half.”
“So freaky I forgot about the lizard people.” Gunner cringed. “What’s their story?”
“Reptilians come from a dimension called Sauria. They’ll shoot first and ask questions never. Meridian recruited most of them to work for him.”
A block of ice dropped into Gunner’s stomach. He cuddled closer until Horatio’s body heat chased away the chill in his bones. And heated up his nads. “Wanna make out?”
Horatio answered by putting his tongue in Gunner’s mouth. While they kissed, he shyly touched the hunk’s cock. Big, yes, but so smooth—he imagined it would glide inside him with ease. When his thumb brushed the tip, he caught a drop of precum. Without thinking, he brought it to his mouth.
“Mmm.” Staring at Horatio, he licked the wetness away.
To his surprise, Horatio shivered. “Do you have any idea how sexy you are?”
Horatio Slice thinks I’m sexy. Holy fucking shit.
Before he could respond, Snake bounded back.
“A Reptilian guard entered the shop as I was leaving. Let’s dash!”
“Your timing sucks,” Horatio groaned.
The portal didn’t make Gunner queasy this time, but going from moonlight to daylight did. “How is it daybreak? The trip lasted three seconds.”
“Time gets twisted when you dimension hop.” Snake checked his watch. “Not even sure why I wear this thing.”
“Hey, this path looks familiar.” Horatio threw his hands up. “You brought me back to my own damn house? Why not just gift-wrap me for the psychopath?”
“He has no idea where you are. Besides, you can’t trot bare-assed across the universe.”
“Guess I might as well get dressed, since you’ve cock-blocked me twice already.”
Gunner laughed. “We’re having some crappy luck today.”
“Your luck better change soon. If Horatio doesn’t blow his load at least four times a day, he gets grumpier than a Yeti with fleas.”
“Four times?” Gunner thought his head would explode.
“Only when I’m having an off kind of day.” Horatio gestured to a break in the tree line. “Straight through here and across the meadow. Watch out for gopher holes. I almost broke my ankle last week.”
Gunner focused on the ground as they traipsed through sparse grass. He dodged gopher holes, a small furry corpse, and maybe footprints from a giant bird. None of that distracted him from the taste of Horatio’s dick still lingering on his tongue.
“Here we are,” Horatio waved a hand across the landscape. “Welcome to my idyllic forest getaway.”
With its thatched roof and crooked stucco walls, the tiny dwelling could’ve sprung from a Tolkien novel. While charming in a grandma’s cottage sort of way, it wasn’t the swanky fuck-palace Gunner expected. “I’m not getting rock star vibes.”
Snake elbowed Horatio. “You were living in the lap of luxury on my ship. Why here?”
“We’re not discussing that right now.” Horatio patted his naked hips. “Obviously, I don’t have my keys.”
“Don’t need a key with me around.” Snake reached for the doorknob, then froze. “Did you hear that?”
“Yeah.” Horatio swung the guitar to his front. “Good thing you had this, Gun.”
“For what?”
Horatio pointed up. “For him.”
From above came the sound of flapping wings. Gigantic flapping wings. Glancing skyward, Gunner saw a surreal vision straight from the seventh circle of Hell.
“What. The. Fuck. Is. That?”
“Liver bird!” Snake shrieked.
Time decelerated.
The monstrous creature circled, descending closer with each pass.
Barbed talons stretched wide as if hungry for flesh.
Ropes of yellow slime dripped from a jagged beak—breaking into droplets that sizzled when they hit earth.
With each flap of its massive wings, the scent of rotting meat wafted over them, turning Gunner’s stomach.
Horrified, he looked to his companions for reassurance but found none. Snake stood rigid, lips pressed into a bloodless line. Horatio, eerily silent, leveled the useless guitar like a weapon, eyes locked in fierce concentration.
Gunner dropped to his knees and prepared to die.
“I got this!” Fingers flying, Horatio played an ear-splitting riff, so loud it threatened to crack open Gunner’s skull.
For a moment, it was beautiful. The flying demon stiffened in mid-flight, wings spread out with the sun behind them, outlining each feather in gold.
Its tail curled upward as it fell to earth with a thunderous quake.
Cracks spread from underneath its bulk, through which clouds of dirt rose and sparkled.
“You killed it with my guitar,” Gunner mumbled, tongue thick, jaw rigid.
The scent of burnt feathers filled his nose as the world went dark.
· · ·
A hand patted Gunner’s face. “Wake up, Cupcake.”
“You need to put his head between his legs.”
“That’s for puking. We need to make him sniff something.” Through half-lidded eyes, Gunner watched Horatio rub his chin. “Wave your cock under his nose, Snake.”
“What the bloody hell will that do?”
“Are you kidding? The smell of dick would wake me from a coma.”
Giggling, Gunner struggled to sit. “You guys are a fucking riot. Two brushes with death already, and I’m still having a great—” He spotted the feathered carcass and clasped a hand over his mouth.
“You gonna hurl?”
“Quick,” Snake said, “put your head between your legs.”
“It smells like a dumpster full of corpses stuffed with dead raccoons. What is it?”
“A liver bird. It knocks you down, rips open your belly, and eats your liver. While you’re still alive.” Snake shuddered. “Nasty.”
Vision spotty, Gunner hung his head between his knees and panted.
Horatio pulled him to his feet. “Let’s get you a shot of tequila.”
Snake unlocked the door with a wave of his hand, which didn’t even move the needle on Gunner’s radar. “I’m checking the portal out back. Pour me one, Hor.”
Gunner took a step, and his knees buckled. Horatio caught him before he hit the ground, half-dragging him into the sparse but oddly cozy cabin. The sofa Gunner collapsed on was upholstered in a spotted animal skin he didn’t recognize.
“You killed that thing with my guitar?”
“Yup.” Horatio set an amber bottle and three shot glasses on the coffee table. “Never underestimate the power of rock and roll.”
“It’s an electric guitar, right? Back at my dorm, it was barely audible, but out here it sounded like it was plugged into a full stack. How?”
“No clue. Out here, guitars are weapons, but they look cooler than guns.” Horatio poured three shots and passed one to Gunner.
“You can’t play your guitar unless you’re on Earth?” Music was Horatio’s life. No wonder he was blissed out while performing for him. The bitter realization lodged a lump in Gunner’s throat even tequila couldn’t dissolve. “What about singing?”
“My voice causes damage too, just less. Once, I sang in the shower, and a sink exploded. Thought the crew would make me walk the plank.”
“What happens when other people sing or play music?”
“There’s no music in the universe. Hell, I’ve never heard someone hum.” Horatio knocked back his tequila and sighed. “It sucks.”
The ache he felt for Horatio made Gunner’s eyes well. “So, um, why didn’t the giant bird explode?”
“After we figured out what my guitar could do, Snake and I spent hours testing other settings. I can stun, paralyze, or kill monsters in a dozen different ways. That’s why Snake calls me the Guitar Slayer.”
Gunner handed over his empty glass. “Keep ‘em coming, Guitar Slayer.” No music, only mayhem. The notion was just so metal, but it made his logical mind itch. “I’m glad you had a chance to play today.”
Horatio grinned. “It felt insanely good.” His smile shifted to a leer. “But not as good as having your naked body on top of me—”
Snake barged in, Gunner’s guitar and backpack in tow. He dropped everything, shed his coat, and sat on the couch. “Happy news, the portal is gone.”
“I can tell you were talking to Sugar.” Horatio smirked. “Your eyes are all sparkly.”