“Whatever, they’re with us and they’ve given us these weapons. So let’s stop bitching and try to get this sorted, okay?” Jon snapped.
There was a moment’s tense silence as the two Gate women stopped and glared at their Armorer. There had never been a man taking such a position within the tribe before, and they were still unused to the concept of a man wielding authority. J.B. waited, interested to see how Jon handled the situation.
“You can stop that shit, too,” he directed at them. “Gloria put me in charge, and we’ve got work to do. Who do you think’s doing the right thing here?”
“You, I suppose,” Cat said grudgingly. “Guess we do need to knock these into some kind of shape and triple fast…and I suppose arguing about it don’t do any good.”
“Exactly,” Jon replied. “So what about you, Dette?”
“If you say so, I guess,” the woman answered, still with a hint of hostility in her tone. “I suppose we should get this done.”
Satisfied that the situation was under control enough for him to speak without interfering, J.B. moved over to where Jon sat, loading a Walther PPK handblaster that he had just cleaned.
“So, if you need to get these done triple quick, a helping hand could be useful.”
Jon looked up. “I’d appreciate that, J.B.,” he replied simply, indicating the pile of blasters and ammo still to be checked. “Just grab one and get checking.”
With the practiced eye and hand of the Armorer to assist, the four of them soon cleared the backlog of Crossroads blasters, ignoring the sound and movement around them as the warriors prepared for battle. When the Crossroads armory had been cleared, it was time to move on and check the Gate armory.
Despite it being more than twice the size of the ville’s armory, it took a fraction of the time for the four of them to run through the handblasters, grens, plas-ex, machine blasters, gren launchers and laser blasters that the Gate had amassed. The condition of the armory, and the inventory, was so well kept that all they really had to do was to check the laser blasters used in the earlier firefight.
“They seem okay, but I sure as shit wish that I could tell how much charge they had in them,” Jon said ruefully when they had finished.
J.B. shrugged. “Trust to luck. They’re not our main weapons. We really rely on our usual blasters. And we picked up a few more after the firefight.”
“Yeah, I know,” the young Gate Armorer replied, “but they’ll be a useful weapon when we get beneath ground, especially if we need to get through some of those sec doors.”
“Then we use them sparingly and only bring them out when they’re really needed.” J.B. shrugged again. “I know what you’re saying, but the fact of the matter is that we can’t keep wishing and hoping. We have to build the shack with as many bricks as we’ve got, and no more.”
“Guess I still need to learn that.”
“That’s experience. Just stay frosty and alive long enough,” J.B. told him. “We’re set here. I need to check our own inventory right now.”
Jon bade the Armorer farewell as J.B. headed back toward the companions in order to fulfill his duties on their blasters.
FIGURING THAT SHE wouldn’t be needed urgently, Mildred slipped away toward the med building, determined to see Hector before they set off.
When she entered the building, she was appalled by the overcrowding and the conditions, even more so when she saw Hector tending to one of the pox victims who was close to the end.
“Lord save us, man, you’ll be gone before anyone else if you don’t rest,” she said quietly.
“If I try and rest, every time I close my eyes all I see is the suffering,” he replied in a flat tone without turning to face her.
“And you’ll be better off buying the farm that bit sooner?” she queried in return.
“Mebbe it’d be better to go out quicker trying to make it better for some than just hanging around a bit longer to see a few more poor stupe bastards in agony.”