James Axler – Deathlands

“Why is Jak special?” Ryan asked, tapping the teenager on the shoulder.

For a crazed moment he thought that the stocky native was going to take a swing at him, but the man checked his movement. “Can’t tell. Tell breaks circle. But he is the waited one. Can’t tell you more.”

Mildred stepped forward again, still holding the strip of torn cotton. “Jak?”

“Yeah?”

“Make him stand still while I bandage that bullet wound. Stop the bleeding.”

The albino teenager nodded. “Sure.”

He turned to the native. “Stand still and she puts on bandage on arm. Make better.”

The man shrank from the advancing woman, but his nerve held and he finally stood still for the bandaging, wincing as though Mildred were applying a poultice of pure acid.

“Ask him where his village is, Jak. Tell him we’d like to visit and mebbe stay a night or two. Get some food.” Ryan glanced at the sky. “Soon be dusk.”

“You ask. Speaks all right.”

Krysty smiled. “You even sound like they do, Jak. Way you talk, sort of clipped and What’s the word, Doc?”

“Elliptical. Meaning that certain words are missing from the dear boy’s sentences.”

Ryan sighed. “Fireblast! Can we get this done? Dark’s not far off. If they’ll house us for a while, we need to know. Just ask them, Jak.”

The teenager looked at the natives. “Need shelter and food. Can we come back your village?”

“All of them?” The man with the bandaged arm didn’t seem enthusiastic at the idea of bringing seven strangers to his village. “Just you.”

Jak shook his head. “No. We are all friends.”

“They are friends of you?” He sounded disbelieving. “You do not have friends. Only those who” He struggled for a word. “Who kneel to you.”

Jak shook his head, making his hair froth out like a blizzard. “No! Fucking listen me. These my friends. You take us your village. Find houses for us. Food.”

“Just you,” the man repeated stubbornly.

“No, for If you think I’m powerful, then best do what I say.”

The native turned to his companions, drawing them close, speaking to them quickly and quietly in the strange foreign language.

“If they decide against us, then I reckon we might do well to go back to the gateway,” Ryan said. “Take a chance on running into Rodrigo Bivar and his gang.”

But the native preempted him. Facing Jak, he bowed his head. “You and friends welcome us village.”

Chapter Ten

The village was about three miles away, along the winding track, and it was close to full dark by the time that they reached it.

Only one thing of any interest happened during the trek along the trail.

As they skirted another pool, they all heard moaning coming from some tall bushes with spiked stems.

“One of the natives, wounded by the slavers and left to die,” Ryan said, drawing the SIG-Sauer and leading the way into the undergrowth.

But the man lying there, knees huddled to his chest, was an Anglo, with the same swarthy complexion as the slavers. He was doubled over, blood soaking through his clothes from a deep stab wound in the stomach.

The natives gathered around, staring blank-eyed at the moaning man. The lone woman stepped close and spit in his face, mouthing a curse.

Ryan holstered his blaster and drew his long panga, not wanting to waste a bullet on the man when cold steel would do as well.

As he leaned forward, the leader of the natives stopped him. “He is taker of us. Chainer of women and girls. Stealer of men for the holes and tunnels where the silver lives. Turner of women into sluts.”

“So he’s better dead.”

“No. He will speak to gods for us. We take him to Teotihuacn where he will meet Coatlicue, and where he will help bring winning to us.”

“You want him as a prisoner?” Ryan asked. “Well, I sure don’t want him for anything. Yeah” He waved his hand. “Take the son of a bitch and welcome.”

The man had stopped weeping, his eyes staring wide at the gleaming polished blade of Ryan’s panga. As soon as he realized that he wasn’t going to be chilled on the spot, his first reaction was one of grinning relief. Then, as he was jerked to his feet by the natives, his wrists bound behind him with strips of whipcord, he began to cry again.