James Axler – Bitter Fruit

Bullets split the air near Ryan as he pushed himself down the mountainside. It felt as if he were flying, except for the occasional roughness when the blanket skidded across a rock stabbing up from the snow or a tree branch that hadn’t quite been buried.

Ryan worked to gain control over his impromptu craft, finding it easier to work with all his bodyweight rather than trying to steer with his hands. The mountainside hammered against him as he picked up speed. He zipped down the incline like a hawk riding out a thermal.

A glance over his shoulder showed that J.B. had been as good as his word and took to the snow only seconds after him. A line of Celts stood along the brief precipice in front of the fissure and fired down at them. Bullets pocked the snow, throwing up brief flurries that whirled in their own little cosmos.

Suddenly one of the Celts fell back, a bloodred rose blossoming between his eyes.

Switching his attention forward, Ryan saw that Jak, Krysty and Doc had found positions in the tree line and were managing covering fire.

Shifting his weight, Ryan aimed his descent toward Tarragon. Bullets chewed into the dead log where the boy lay and punched holes in the blanket.

Ryan knew he would only have one chance at any kind of rescue. He held the edge of the blanket in his fists, felt the ice against his stomach and groin through the blanket and clothes as the ground raced by in a blur.

For a moment he thought he was going to smash up against the log, as well, then he reached out and grabbed a tight fistful of the boy’s blanket. As he passed by, the boy’s weight slewed him around. But the blanket and its burden came away from the log, and they went sliding down the mountainside in a disorganized heap.

J.B. reached bottom before they did. The Armorer was up with the Uzi snarling and spitting brass in an instant.

Ryan released the boy’s blanket and covered his head as he went charging into the brush. Twigs and branches broke as he smashed through. He impacted against a tree with enough force to lose his breath. Numbness spread down his left arm as he got to his feet.

“Lover?” Krysty’s face was a study in concern as she came racing back to him.

“Standing. Been better, though.” Gunfire continued to crack and echo down the mountainside as he made his way forward. He drew the SIG-Sauer. “The boy?”

“Jak has him. He’s not in any worse shape than he was.”

Ryan nodded. Gazing back up the hill, he saw a body come slithering down the pristine whiteness of the slope, streaming scarlet in its wake.

The snow and ice thinned out inside the forest area. Black earth wet with dead leaves and struggling grass turned to mud underfoot.

“Jak,” Ryan called.

The albino looked up. He had Tarragon by the collar and was pulling the boy to cover.

“You got point. Move us away from here. We’ve got a short lead, and I don’t want it blown.”

Jak nodded and moved off.

“Krysty, you and Doc give the boy a hand. If he slows you down too much, leave him behind.”

“Ryan, my good fellow,” Doc objected, “that would be most inhumane, given the circumstances, and”

“Leaving him behind takes care of us,” Ryan gritted. “He’s got a heart of ice himself. Admits to leading these fuckers here when he knew we were here. He hadn’t done that, Mildred would still be with us.”

Krysty didn’t look happy with Ryan’s call, either, but she didn’t waste time disagreeing. “Let’s go, Doc.”

“Lead on, my lady, and I shall not tarry.”

Ryan turned his attention to J.B., who was hunkered down behind a tree and feeding a fresh magazine into the Uzi. “You need a long gun. Doc, let J.B. borrow that CAR-15 Krysty gave you.”

Doc turned and tossed the rifle at the Armorer, who caught it easily, then the bag of ammo that followed. “Have a care with that, John Barrymore. I shall be wanting it back.”

“Will do, Doc.” J.R slung the Uzi with a full load, then checked over the assault rifle.