Ryan took notice of the lack of sounds in the air. Before there had been faint reminders that life was still here among the ruinsthe hum of insects, the discussions between the arguing friends, the sound of footsteps rising and falling on the road. Now it was almost as if each of them had subconsciously started trying to move more silently, a hidden command to breathe easy and keep noise to a minimum.
The absence of bird calls was especially noticeable. Once, Krysty had wordlessly tugged at Ryan’s long coat. When he glanced back, he couldn’t help but see she was troubled, as well. Her sentient red hair was coiling and uncoiling in a manner that indicated that she, too, subconsciously knew something was wrong.
Still, the tree-lined roadway gave all indications of being safe, and their guide had no problems with striding ahead without fear. Alton apparently knew where he was going, and the closer they got, the more at ease he acted.
“Been a while since I got out this way,” he said. “Like you, I been traveling myself. Back and forth with no permanent place to hang my hat.”
Dean, bored out of his young mind and looking up at the blue sky, noticed the movement in the trees first. His keen eyes detected a slight movement in the leafy covering of a particular large tree directly next to the scavie’s head. The mighty oak’s branches were hanging out like spread wooden fingers over the asphalt path they were traveling.
He thought about mentioning it, but he didn’t want to look like a stupe over a squirrel or other arbor-dwelling creature. Besides, his father didn’t seem to be worried, and the boy knew Ryan’s survival senses were honed by experience to a much finer edge than his own. As Alton and then Ryan both passed under the long branches, Dean held his breath until they were on the other side.
The boy exhaled with relief.
Until the leaves parted with a sudden, frantic rustling, and the hidden men leaped out and were upon them.
Chapter Nine
“Ambush!” Dean cried out in a voice pitched high and tight with shock, but his warning arrived a second too late as the men in the tree revealed themselves with a sudden, murderous intensity.
Alton Adrian fell like a dropped doll, taken totally by surprise as the weight of his attacker came down hard and swift upon his head and upper body. The second man wasn’t as lucky. He had chosen Ryan as his target. The one-eyed man reacted much more swiftly than the bearded guide, his reflexes inhumanly quick as he brought up the muzzle of the SIG-Sauer in a swift, practiced motion and fired off a trio of shots, each slug catching his assailant in the chest. The force of the bullets at such close range flipped the attacker backward, causing him to hurl his weapon away.
He landed hard on his lower back and rear once his feet clumsily hit heel first on the broken road. Between the force of the bullets and the impact of the fall, the man was wheezing, gasping for air as he writhed helplessly in pain.
J.B. was in motion the instant the ambush begun, swinging the butt of his own weapon in a forward arc across the back of the man who had focused his energies on the unsuspecting scavie. The sound of hard blaster on softer skull was loud and unforgiving. Even with the disadvantage of poor vision, the Armorer was a deadly foe in close-quarters fighting.
The othersJak, Mildred, Doc and Krystyall came to instant readiness, their own individual weapons springing up from their holsters and other places of concealment to find safe haven in their hands.
No other ambushers revealed themselves.
“That it?” Jak asked in disbelief, still peering hard into the foliage above.
“Looks like it.” Krysty said.
“Stupes,” Jak muttered, shaking his head in amusement.
Mildred was kneeling and checking the broken cranium of the man J.B. had taken down. She felt the bloody skull and winced.
“This one’s alive, but he won’t be answering any questions for a while. Some lump he is growing on his skull.”