Anger galvanized Doc, not in his own defense, but for his family. He wasn’t sure what Long Johnson was talking about, but the threat was naked and certain between them. Perhaps the information existed and was already in the pirate’s hands. Doc had no way of knowing from Long Johnson’s words. But there was no mistaking the intent in them.
He brought up the Le Mat blaster and fired. The .63-caliber pistol rocked in his fist. A heartbeat later a pellet cut locks from Long Johnson’s hair and very nearly caught his left ear.
Then the crowd of theatergoers became a raging tide, sweeping toward the two exits.
Doc tried to stand his ground, batting aside a screaming woman with an ice pick who tried to drive the weapon into his chest. He squeezed the Le Mat’s trigger again, watching as the pirate captain grabbed one of his men by the back of his shirt and used him for a shield.
The .63-caliber shotgun spread exploded the man’s head, throwing blood and gore over Long Johnson. In three quick strides the pirate captain had gained the exit on the other side of the room.
“Another time, Tanner,” he bellowed from cover, whacking down a thin man who tried to scramble past him. “Make no mistake that I’ll find you. Wherever you hide.” Another step, and the pirate was gone, along with most of his band.
“Got to leave,” Jak said.
“Yes,” Doc said, feeling the fear dawn in him. “Get us outside, dear boy. There’s a chance we could catch that rogue.” He didn’t know if he had family out in what was left of the world or not. Maybe it was only wishful thinking, a delusion pursued by a desperate old man. But the fact remained that Emilyand he prayed it wasn’t so could have remarried and raised their children without him. She would have had no choice. His children could have had children, and their children after them. And just maybe one of them had emigrated to England.
Generations had passed since then. But perhaps something yet remained of the Tanner family even after it had been sundered by Operation Chronos.
Jak led the way out of the building, heading for the doorway they’d entered. The albino kept a blade in one hand, using it to menace anyone who got in their way. Twice he brought down men who tried to turn on them.
In seconds he and Jak were out on the street, gasping for breath. Doc glanced up and down the road, but there were so many alleys, warrens and shadows even in the light of the closing afternoon that it was impossible to know where Long Johnson and his crew might have gone.
“Got stay moving,” Jak said. “Mebbe someone care about this, mebbe not. Can’t take chance.”
“You’re right, lad.” Doc kept the Le Mat blaster in his hand, tucked under his frock coat.
“Mebbe go see Ryan and others. Safety in numbers.”
“You go on ahead if you wish, dear boy, but I have to find that wicked man and put a bullet through that hard stone heart of his if I’m lucky. The game’s afoot.” From his earlier excursions, Doc knew in what direction the port had to be. He headed west, certain he had to run into the sea before long.
“IT’S GOING TO BE dark before long.” Ryan sat in the claw-footed bathtub in the other room. J.B. had already finished his bath and laundry, and was sitting back with the Celtic boy in the adjoining room.
“I’m getting worried about Doc and Jak,” Krysty said, stepping out of her pants and shrugging out of her shirt. “They’ve been gone a long time.”
Ryan watched her appreciatively, noting the lithe muscle. He’d run his hands over his lover’s body countless times, knew her the way a blind sculptor would know one of his works, and he never tired of looking at her.
She reached behind her and loosened her bra, bending forward slightly to drop it from her breasts. Hooking her thumbs in the waistband of her panties, she lowered them as well. She stepped toward the tub.
“They’re all right.” Ryan shifted in the tub, enjoying the feel of the water against his skin.