Devil Riders

“Nope, but the engine is running a little hot,” Krysty replied. “We thought it best to stop, give it a rest.”

“And make breakfast,” Dean added.

“Better check hoses first,” Jak mumbled, holstering the blaster and shuffling forward to jump off the end of the wag. His boots sank inches deep into the salty sand. He hated the desert and longed for a smell of a proper bayou again.

Shoving away the blankets, Doc gave a bone cracking yawn and ran stiff fingers through his silver hair.

“What a desolate location,” he rumbled, exiting the vehicle to blink at the reflected dawn. “We could be in the middle of the Sahara or the Gobi desert for all we know.”

“Could be the Painted Desert of New Mexico,” Krysty added. “Sure isn’t Colorado or Ohio.”

Stretching to work off the fog of sleep, Ryan became alert at that remark. Ohio was neutral territory, but there were a bastard lot of folks who wanted their hides in New Mex. That was the very heart of the Deathlands.

“Well, I’ll have us fixed in a few minutes,” J.B. stated, pulling the minisextant from his jacket pocket and looking through it to sweep the sky until locating the sun.

“I’ll make coffee, if somebody starts a fire,” Mildred offered, fighting off a yawn. She spent the night spooning with John, but any trace of a romantic interlude had been neutralized by the close presence of the rest of the companions also huddled under the blankets.

“No wood for a fire,” Dean said, gesturing around them. “Nothing.”

“Damn, you’re right,” the physician grumbled unhappily. “Guess it’ll be an MRE of meat loaf for breakfast, and cold coffee.”

“We’ve had worse,” Krysty commented, opening her backpack to pull out a tin mess kit. “Better than boiled boot.”

Mildred made a face. That had been a hell of a meal. The closest they had ever come to starving to death.

“Be right back,” Ryan announced, drawing his blaster. Stepping behind the largest dune for a few minutes, the man soon returned zipping up his fatigues.

“Got our position yet, J.B.?” he growled.

“Not just yet. Too many clouds in the way,” the Armorer answered, squinting through the sextant. As carefully as possible, he centered the unobstructed sun in the lens, balancing the horizon against the half mirror inside the optical device. This gave him the reading and writing down the numbers, he did a few calculations and checked the plastic map from his backpack.

“We’re back in Texas,” J.B. said, lowering the sextant. “About six hundred miles away from that gateway at the Grandee.”

“Good enough,” Ryan said, rubbing his unshaven jaw. The gateway wasn’t a redoubt, just a stripped down mat-trans chamber, but it would take them to a redoubt. If it still worked.

“Six hundred miles is a mighty long way.” Krysty sighed, loosening her collar. “Especially in this heat.” Her bearskin coat was hanging from a bolt in the back of the wag, a little extra cover in case the others needed it during the cold night. Now it seemed like she wouldn’t be needing it during the day, either. Already she could tell it was going to be a scorcher. Good thing they had a lot of water, even if it was slightly radioactive.

Just then, a trio of tiny red scorpions scurried out from under a rock, closely followed by a much larger black scorpion. The black arachnid grabbed a red one and started tearing it apart on the spot, stuffing the juicy gobbets into his mouth. The other two made good their escape under another rock, while the third was being eaten alive.

A scratching sound seemed to fill the air. The companions pulled their blasters and glanced around. But aside from the scorpions battling each other, there was nothing in sight anywhere.

“Could be the wind,” Dean said hesitantly, as if not believing the possibility himself. The wind in the Deathlands often played tricks, making faraway things sound right behind you, sometimes even making sand seem to be splashing pools of water. Back at Nicolas Brody’s school, he had heard of people lost in the desert going feeb from the wind and the heat.

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *