Bone Rider

Confession was the emotional equivalent to puking, Riley supposed. Something bad went down, bits of it came back up, you felt better.

Cowboys, aliens, hit men, and now a canyon full of survivalists. Young stared down into the chasm and the flurry of movement their approach was causing and shook his head in disbelief. How was this his life?

El Paso,” Andrej echoed slowly. “You do know there’s nothing in El Paso but dust, heat, and illegal aliens, right?

He’s unrepentant,' McClane pronounced, 'and insulting. And possibly suicidal. Can we kick him in the face?

Hey,” he said, feeling his lips stretch into a shit-eating grin. “You heard this one? So a cowboy, an alien, and three hit men walk into a bar….

I got body snatched by an alien." McClane grumbled a protest. "A sentient alien armor and weapons system," Riley clarified. "Very sophisticated. Very unique. Very much a smartass. His name's McClane

I’m so good at my job the law thinks I’m three different hit men and a serial killer. I speak Russian and French, I never had a pet, and the reason why you hate my coffee is that it’s decaf.

Killer yuppies in a soccer-mom car. It did have that certain je ne said quois.

Lord, save him from those with good intentions, for they tended to leave the worst damage.

Permission to shoot the fucker in the face when it comes over the rim?

Riley might’ve been more appreciative had he had any idea what was going on. He tried to rouse himself, find out specifics, but his head was throbbing—or maybe that was his brain; he could’ve sworn it was about to go pop like an overripe berry under a truck tire...

Riley tried not to hyperventilate or think too closely about the Alien movies and their take on extraterrestrial encounters. When he was done checking his belly and chest for signs of distension, it added reassuringly, 'Listen, I’m not going to mess with you, okay? Or… breed in you. Gah. That’s disgusting.

There was only one Riley Cooper and McClane wanted him, with all his perfect imperfections, the insecurity and the stubborn pride, the poor conflict-solving skills and the laid-back open-mindedness that made the man such good company for an intelligent armor and weapons system with codependency issues.

They couldn't very well bag everyone wearing a cowboy hat. This was Texas, which meant there'd be plenty of hats, and besides, there was such a thing as civil rights... and, worse, civilians with camera phones.

We’re good to move.”
“Cool.” Kolya’s smile was every bit as tight-lipped as Riley’s, but it was real. “Tell us when you need help.”
“And tell us before your chest explodes,” Andrej muttered, “so we can shoot the alien babies when they pop out.”
Riley made a rude gesture. “McClane says, go fuck yourself.”
Kolya chuckled. “Let’s keep him.

Whatever else the entity was, Young was starting to suspect it was also part cockroach.

Young certainly wouldn't have expected to be ambushed by three yuppies gone bad in El Paso, Texas. . . . young had never before been taken down by people wearing expensive shoes and tailored suits...not physically, anyway. He'd gone up against plenty of sharks in Washington DC,....