Genesis Echo (Deathlands 25) by James Axler

Judas took him at his word.

Not altering his gait, he headed straight for the old man, who stood his ground until the very last moment, when it became obvious to him, as it had to everyone else there, that the mule really wasn’t going to stop.

“Jump!” Trader yelled, starting to lift the Armalite to his shoulder.

Krysty saw the threatening movement and shouted for him not to shoot.

Doc dived sideways, landing clumsily on his shoulder, dropping the blaster, avoiding a vicious nip from Judas’s curved yellow teeth as he fell.

The animal skidded to a halt, turning its head from side to side as if it had momentarily lost sight of its prey. Doc was sprawled on his back, dazed by the attack. Sukie moved quickly to stand between the helpless man and the animal, holding out her left hand toward the mule.

“Here,” she said, her voice calm yet firm. “Come here to me, Judas. Now!”

The mule hesitated, its flanks shuddering with the effort of its charge up the hillside. Its eyes were bloodshot, rolling in the deep caverns of the angular skull. Slowly, very slowly, it lowered its head and began to walk toward the woman.

Doc scrambled to his feet, fumbling around for the gold-engraved Le Mat. He found the weapon and held it in his right hand, waiting to see if he was going to need it.

Sukie ignored him. “Come on, Judas. You clever animal, coming all this long way to find us. You must need some good grass and some fresh water.” She patted it on the neck as it reached her, then turned to Doc.

“Shall I tie it with the horses?”

“Keep bit away,” Jak replied, grinning at the tableau. “Judas spooks ’em.”

So, the day began.

ONCE THE REMINISCENCES and the storytelling had begun to wind down, the talk turned from the past to the future. It was Ryan himself who brought the subject up.

Trader had just finished a long anecdote about a run-in with some bounty hunters over the old Canada line, which had ended in a collapsing mine shaft.

“Enough of then,” Ryan said. “Time to start thinking about what we do now.”

There was a long silence, while everyone switched their minds around. J.B. spoke first. “I don’t see much hope of getting back to the house. Not for a long while.”

Jak, who was most concerned, agreed. “Half-life rad poison could be forever.”

“We got the wag and some fuel.” Abe coughed. “I reckon enough to take us four or five hundred miles.”

“I fancy trying out these jumps you told me about.” Trader grinned at Ryan and J.B. “Would’ve made traveling easier in the good old days.”

“Jumps aren’t that easy,” Ryan said. “We still don’t have any idea of how to control them. Can’t tell where we might finish up. Once it was in Russia. Another time we reckon it was on one of those circling space stations I heard about from old books and vids. Not the best fun in the world.”

“Makes you feel sick,” Dean offered. “Like when you roll all the way down a steep hillside.”

Trader smiled at the boy. “My hill-rolling days are well past me, son.”

“With the land wag and the horses, we could go most anywhere we wanted.” Sukie flushed as everyone looked at her. “I got a sister, last I heard was living in Hope Springs. Could we all go visit her?” She spoke to the group in general, but addressed her question specifically to Trader.

“We’ll do what most of us agree,” he replied. “That has always been our way. If we are to enter the devil’s caldron of the mat-trans chamber, then we shall go the Lord knows where. I doubt that it will be Hope Springs.”

“Frontier pesthole,” Trader muttered. “Was there years ago. Had a breakout of black-shit fever. Wouldn’t want to go back there again. Not for a bag of jack.”

“Well, I only got one relative that I know of, and if that’s where she lives, then that’s where I think I should go.” She was stubborn, as though Trader’s dismissive comment had sparked resistance.