Eclipse at Noon Laurence James(1)

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itself on the frame scant inches from Ryan's face.
He could make out a narrow path, fringed with overgrown ornamental bushes. The shot
had come from behind the cover, and a cloud of black-powder smoke still hung in the
afternoon air. Ryan stuck the SIG-Sauer around the edge of the door and put five spaced
shots into the center of the cloud.
There was a shrill scream and a thrashing in the undergrowth. Ryan risked another look
and saw the body of a young man roll out onto the path, blood streaking from two
wounds, one in the groin, the other high in the chest. His Kentucky musket was still
clutched in his right hand.
"Let's go," Ryan said.
The youth had obviously been placed there as a last-resort stopper to try to prevent the
outlanders from making a break out the back. As Ryan darted out and sprinted to his
right, away from the center of the ville, toward a narrow draw, there was no more
shooting.
The massacre inside had taken away all enthusiasm for pursuit, and nobody came after
them.
Ryan slithered down the rocky side of the draw, boots splashing into a narrow stream that
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Axler, James - Deathlands 33 - Eclipse at Noon
ran along the bottom, flattening himself and looking back. The Armorer was only
moments behind him, taking up a defensive position, staring behind them toward the
squat shape of the Burgess gallery.
"Looks like we kicked the balls out of them," he said. "Stupes!"
Ryan nodded. "It was our blasters they wanted. Saw it in their greedy little dirt-poor
eyes."
There was a single piercing scream from behind them, from one of the wounded men.
"Best get going," Ryan said. "No point staying around here. Head north."
They followed the ravine as it snaked in roughly the direction they wanted, toward the
distant fortress of the Magus and Gert Wolfram.
The map showed that the blacktop ran parallel to the stream, but they figured that any
possible pursuit from the ville would come along the road. After an hour's fast progress
across the broken country, Ryan guessed that it was safe to assume they were away free,
and he and the Armorer cut through some low, thorny scrub and picked up the highway
again.
"MAP SHOWS WE'RE GETTING close to the section of the forest that they mined and
laid traps," the Armorer said as they paused for a five-minute break in the middle of the
afternoon.
The highway doglegged to the left, away west, leaving only a faint hunting trail to keep
them heading in the direction they wanted.
There was a large camp site near a shallow, clear pool, and they sat there, lapping up the
water to ease their thirst. Ryan scuffed his boot through a pile of ashes, turning up the
rusted relic of an old Randall knife, bone hilt burned away, long blade still keen-edged.
"Wonder how long that's been there," he said, peering at it, rubbing the steel with his
finger, revealing the initials G.C.
"Big fire," J.B. commented, head on one side. "Think it could be stickies?"
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Axler, James - Deathlands 33 - Eclipse at Noon
"Could be." He sat on a fallen log and stared at the calm pool, watching a foot-long
dragonfly, colored a brilliant turquoise, darting back and forth. "Wonder how the others
are getting on?"
J.B. pushed back the brim of his fedora, blinking at the shafts of bright sunlight that
speared through the overhanging branches. "Got to hope they're fine."
Ryan glanced up at the sky, calculating time and distance and light. "Find a place for the
night in about three more hours. Reckon that should put us something like halfway to
their ville. All being well, we could recce late afternoon. Go in and try the rescue some
time during the night."
"They'll be looking for us." J.B. yawned. "No way of walking around that."
Ryan grinned at his friend. "Like you said. Old times. Give it our best shot." He stood
like a steel spring uncoiling. "Let's move it on."
Chapter Twenty-Six
Krysty lay out on the narrow bed, staring up at the ceiling, arms folded behind her head.
Mildred dozed on one of the other beds, under the barred window of the hut.
In the next, identical shack along the row, she knew that Jak and Doc would also be
resting. There was nothing else for them to do.
They'd been kept locked up ever since the powerful motorboat had delivered them to the
landing on the east side of the Sippi the previous evening.
Krysty closed her bright emerald eyes, letting her thoughts go back to the time of their
capture on board the Golden Eagle.
It had all been made so easy for their enemy, and she bit her lip in frustration at the
memory of how they'd been slipped into the net.
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Axler, James - Deathlands 33 - Eclipse at Noon
"Triple-stupe," she muttered.
They had walked through the fog, along the glistening decks, not in the least suspicious
of being led into a trap. Only when the half-dozen armed sec men had loomed from out
of the mist, blasters aimed at point-blank range, did they realize what was happening.
Jak had been beaten unconscious when he went for his own Colt, and he was thrown into
the bottom of the boat. Doc, Mildred and Krysty were disarmed and shepherded into the
little vessel and whisked away into the gloom at high speed, bouncing and rocking over
the river.
It was all done in professional silence, in a matter of a couple of minutes.
And the reasoning was all too obvious. Their capture gave Wolfram and the Magus a
fistful of aces. Four aces. Laid on the table, solid and secure. Undeniably an unbeatable
hand. While Ryan and J.B. sat helpless, without even a pair of deuces in their hands.
They'd been escorted to the center of the fortress, which was one of the most heavily [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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