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"Saw some boat docks during an earlier recon. Mebbe we'll take one for
ourselves, see how far we can get."
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"J.B., I want you and Jak walking point. Keep each other in sight, with a
forty-
yard lead on the rest of us."
J.B. and Jak took off at once, already knowing from the sun's position which
way the river lay.
"Elmore," Ryan went on, automatically redistributing his gear and weapons,
"you go next. Dean, I want you on him. He makes a move to break free of the
group, put a bullet in the back of his head."
Dean nodded.
Knowing he was putting his son in considerable danger, Ryan went on, "And if
he makes a move to hurt you, chill him on the spot."
"Don't worry, Dad. I'll see it done."
Despite the argumentative look on his face, Elmore moved out, staying the
agreed upon distance back from J.B. and Jak. Dean fell in behind him, the
Browning looking big in his hand.
"The rest of you fall in if you're going with us," Ryan said. "Keep up or
we'll leave you behind. We're only go-ing to live as long as we can move
quick."
The group hesitated only a moment, then got under way. Ryan had Krysty and
Mildred fall in next, and he brought up drag himself.
Even with the children, the group moved quickly. Jak and J.B. moved quicker,
racing through the junkyard until they reached the high wooden wall securing
the back. Most of the wall was constructed of old planks, but sheets of rusted
tin and boards that looked different than the original wood covered areas
where men or animals had broken through.
Jak and J.B. chose one of the tin covered areas and hacked their way through
with a camp ax. The blasterfire had died away, and no matter what had happened
between the coldhearts and Naylor's sec team, Ryan figured it only meant bad
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"Clear!" Jak called, throwing aside the last piece of tin. The albino led the
way through.
Ryan hunkered down under cover, gazing back along the two aisles he could see
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between the wag wreckage. Per-spiration clung to him, making the feces stuck
to his clothes and skin feel even worse.
"The dogs," Krysty whispered from nearby as Doc urged his charges through the
wall. Her green eyes looked haunted, fever bright.
"What about the dogs?" Mildred prompted.
"They've picked up our scents," Krysty said.
"How do you know?" Ryan demanded.
"I can..
.feel them." She shook her head, as if she didn't like the sensation. "It's
Phlorin, lover. Her being in my head is affecting my powers, making them
stronger."
Her words cut into Ryan's heart, but he shook it off. It was a waste of time
worrying about something that he couldn't do anything about. Getting out of
the ville that would give them the breathing room they needed. Then they'd see
what needed to be done.
Mildred and Krysty squeezed through the hole in the fence, and Ryan followed.
With the dogs getting their scent, presumably the smell of the dog shit over
all their clothes, as well, he knew there'd be little chance of throwing them
off track.
THE LAND BROKE AWAY from the ville, falling into a rapid decline as the group
neared the river. Judging from the amount of damage from water erosion, Ryan
guessed that much of the surrounding land had been submerged at one time.
The nukecaust had reshaped much of North America. Besides breaking off much
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nds%2045%20-%20Starfall.html of what had been California, it had also created
a huge lake in the northwestern section of the Deathlands. The tidal waves
that had rolled in as a result of the earthquakes and tsunamis that had
swallowed the West Coast had continued on into the interior and cre-ated a
huge lake. The overflow from that had evidently rolled through Idaho for a
time.
Small wooden docks made of cast-off lumber jutted into the water. Some were
higher than others, indicating the water level was subject to change. Judging
from the docks he saw, the river was sometimes as much as thirty feet higher
than what it was now, and pushed back over some of the tumbledown wreckage
left of Idaho
Falls.
Tall grass and cattails, still yellow and trying to make a comeback from the
earlier flood stages of the river, lined the sharp incline leading to the
river. A handful of boats was tied up at the docks. The morning fishing was
done, but men remained at the docks mending equipment and nets. Women and
children stood around fifty-
five-gallon drums filled with burning wood, smoking the fish that had been
caught.
Wag engines roared in the distance, growing closer.
None of the boats, however, were equipped with engines. Masts stood proudly in
all of them, the sails furled. Only two were big enough for the companions and
the hangers-on they'd picked up.
Knowing they had no choice, Ryan commanded the oth-ers to ground behind the
ville debris lining the riverbank, then waved Jak and J.B. to him. They went
toward the long boat Ryan chose, walking in a loose triangle.
The afternoon sun beat down on the riverbank. The sand deposits scouring the
sides of the incline were already nearly dry, as if the rainstorm that had
come earlier had never happened at all.
The women and children spotted Ryan and the others first. They were poorly
outfitted, dressed in patched home-spun that had faded from hard wear and too
many wash-ings. Their faces carried scars, physical and emotional. Boning and
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scaling knives filled their hands, but they backed away. Mothers sent small
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the nearby weeds.
Ryan didn't say anything because there was nothing to say. Even if the people
didn't know what he was there for, they knew he was there to take something
that wasn't his.
The sailboat had a tall mast that advertised plenty of room for sailcloth.
With the wind blowing strongly and in the right direction, Ryan hoped it would
be enough to push them quickly against the sluggish current of the greenish
river.
Ryan brought up the Steyr, shoving the business end to-ward the bearded man
mending a net on the rickety dock beside the sailboat. "Move away from the
boat."
The bearded man was squat and powerfully built, prob-ably not up to Ryan's
shoulder, but almost half again as broad. He wore a faded gray sweatshirt with
the sleeves hacked off, perspiration stains beading across his upper chest,
and striped overalls that had been cut off at midthigh. His hair was dark
brown but glinted red where the sun had washed the color out, the same as his [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]