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Kansas City Death Train: 11
Part 10 is here.
Now, most men would have crumpled into a pile of quivering goo at the sight of a horde of mutated alien-mantis hoboes bearing down on him. Others would have run off screaming. Ol’ Rolling Joe Stone, though?
Well, he couldn’t stop laughing.
In fact, he hadn’t had such a ring-a-ding-ding since that time he rescued that troupe of Finnish ballerinas from that Russian hypnotist and his werewolf daughter.
Giggling all the way, Joe dropped low and blasted out the shins of the kid who’d cried “interloper” like a damn professor of English literature.
The kid fell grasping at his stubs and squirming around like a slug that’s had its back-half stepped on by a big boot.
“Best I could do, beanstalk,” Joe said to the squirming kid. “Don’t like shooting a fellow American but near’s I can tell you’re about half bug now.”
All his shells spent, Joe took off running towards the bull’s office. In the background sounded the Death Train. It moved slow in its turn on the switch but was getting ready to point straight to Kansas City for a one-way run. Once it got going, there’d be no slowing it down.
Joe didn’t run straight for the office. First he looped back over the alien corpses he’d left behind and stopped at the dead…
