James Axler – Rat King

and relieve the strain on Jak.

As he got closer to the top, and the lip of the chasm gained a slight diagonal

incline from the continual slipping of surface dirt, Dean was able to gain more

of a foothold and so propel himself onto the plateau at the top, where he

collapsed into a heap, panting heavily as he drew precious air into his lungs.

The fire in his aching muscles began to abate.

Jak rose gracefully to his feet, rubbing life back into his bruised and numbed

limb.

After checking that Dean was recovering, Krysty collected her fur with as much

nonchalance as she could muster, casting a disdainful glance at the still

impassive Tod and Tilly.

“That was a damn good show,” the giant said, nodding slowly. “Reckon as you

could mebbe do it again?”

Once Dean was on his feet, Mac gestured to Ryan with his blaster.

“Reckon it’s your turn now, One-eye. See if you can give us as much of a show as

your brat.”

Anger blazed within Ryan, but he kept it hidden, the only outward signs a twitch

at the corner of his mouth and a whitening at the edges of the puckered scar

under his eye socket.

It was the suppressed fury that gave him the explosive energy to cover the

distance with ease.

J.B. was next. As with most things the Armorer did, it seemed to be a matter of

little effort and an offhand glance. After polishing his glasses, the wiry

weapons expert took a short run and threw himself across the divide.

It wasn’t the most graceful landing, but it was perfunctory. The only thing that

worried J.B. was the way his ankle twisted as he hit the ground. He felt a

slight pull, and a pain that was halfway between a stab and an itch. He noticed

the slight sensation of weakness as he walked over to the others. He decided to

say nothing for the while, hoping that he could walk it off.

Mildred was the last to jump. Waiting until last had done her nerves little

good. There was a small demon inside her that she had never confronted—her fear,

not so much of heights but of drops. As a child, she remembered looking at

pictures of the Grand Canyon in books her father possessed, and being struck not

by the grandeur but by the sheer fall to the bottom.

And now she had to jump across a sheer drop.

“Did you ever hear about a guy called Evel Knievel?” she said to Mac and his

silent sec men. She received a blank look in return. “Forget it,” she said.

“Just an old woman rambling about things you wouldn’t know.”

She took the jump with a greater ease than she would have thought possible. It

was a strong temptation to close her eyes as she soared through the air, but she

resisted, knowing that she had to keep them open to judge her landing.

It was close to the edge, but not over. The urge to look over her shoulder and

into the abyss was almost overwhelming, and she risked a quick glance over her

shoulder.

The drop into blackness zoomed in and out of focus, and she felt herself sway. A

hand steadied her. Looking around, she saw J.B. in front of her, grasping her

arm.

“Thanks, John,” she said, smiled. “Nearly lost it there.”

J.B. returned the smile. “About time I helped you out,” he said simply.

Tod gestured to them to band together, waving the giant blaster. It crossed

J.B.’s mind that with a blaster like that they could be spread in a hundred yard

radius and still be picked off by one load of shot, but he kept his peace as

they moved together under the watchful eyes of Tod and Tilly.

Mac and the other two sec men crossed the divide with ease, leaping with a

surprising grace to cover the distance.

“Mutie jackrabbits, not men,” Jak muttered.

“Guess they’ve just adapted to the conditions,” Mildred offered by way of reply.

“Shut up and move,” Tilly’s hissing tones cut short any further discussion.

“HOW MUCH FARTHER to your ville?” Ryan asked after they’d been walking for some