Sliding the last spare clip into the subgun, J.B. scowled at the clouds above. “Seems unlikely,” the Armorer said. “But it’s possible, and those damn .44 mini-balls would punch right through a civilian copter.”
Smiling with his oddly perfect teeth, Doc fondly patted the huge handcannon. “Which is why I still retain her, sir! Very few enemies, indeed, need to be shot twice with this.”
“Well, the Bell would have to leave if the old coot hit the rotor,” Mildred added. “A helicopter can’t fly straight without its tail rotor.”
“At least the thing is gone,” Dean said gratefully, yanking on the bolt of the subgun, trying to free a jammed round. The misfire was caught in the breech tight and wouldn’t come loose. He might have to disassemble the blaster before it would fire again.
Suddenly, the boy could see the blaster a lot clearer as a wealth of moonlight flooded into the forest, the silvery light illuminating the trees in a cool glow.
“Clouds broke,” Krysty said, the hair on her head coiling tightly. “Haven’t seen that happen in quite awhile.”
Squinting with his good eye, Ryan rubbed his unshaved chin, making a sound like sandpaper. “You don’t suppose—”
But the Deathlands warrior was interrupted as something rustled in the trees, bouncing from limb to limb to land in the bushes. The same thing happened again, and then once more, this time the object landing in plain sight on the carpet of leaves. It was a blue jay, its feathers splayed and steam rising off its body. “What in hell…?” Ryan said. Everybody jumped and aimed their blasters as dozens more birds fell to the ground, robins, hawks and owls, the impact of their bodies sounding almost like hail. Then a scream-wing plummeted through the foliage to hit the safety cage around Ryan. The dead mutie was only a foot away from his face, and he stared at it hard. This was the closest he had ever been a scream-wing. Steam hissed from its mouth and rectum, the eyes had burst apart and its hide was bubbly as if the creature had been dipped in boiling oil.
“The copter?” Dean asked fearfully. The boy had no idea what was going on here. Cooked birds falling from the sky?
“Oh, my God,” Mildred whispered, pointing behind them with a shaky hand.
Thousands of leaves and needles were falling from the trees in a heavy wave, the bare branches darkening, and some of the small growths bursting into flame. The bushes began to smolder, and the grass withered. It was as if the forest were dying before their very eyes. There was a sharp line of the approaching destruction, green plants on this side, withered death on the other.
“Sweet Jesus save us, it’s a Kite!” Mildred fumbled twice in her haste to kick the motorcycle into life. “That’s what the bastard Jamaisvous was talking to, a goddamn freaking Kite!”
“Silas ace plants?” Jak demanded.
“It kills everything!” the woman shouted, and twisted the throttle to the last stop. The wheels spun wildly in the loose leaves, spraying out debris, then contacted dirt and the Harley roared forward, almost crashing into a tree. The cage slammed into the trunk, ripping off bark and making J.B. drop the subgun.
“Hey!” he cried out, nursing a wrist. There was a sharp pain inside as if a bone had been broken.
“Fuck it!” the physician screamed, plowing through a bush. “Run, run for your lives! And for God’s sake don’t look up!”
Starting their bikes, the others took off after the woman, not exactly sure what was happening. Doc watched as the oncoming line of destruction approached to within only a few yards of the rolling motorcycle, when he began to twitch uncomfortably. It felt as if a million insects were crawling over his skin, and the grip of the LeMat started to grow warm.
“Faster, madam!” he shouted, almost throwing the blaster away. “We have to go faster!”
Ahead of them, the forest was cool and green, the thick foliage starkly lit by the full October moon. His left eye socket itching madly, Ryan fought to control the Harley as he drove full tilt through the woods, sometimes the trees so close he thought the safety cage would jam tight between the trees. But the bark scraped loose, giving scant inches, and the Harley roared onward.