James Axler – Rat King

“Because walls have ears for one,” Krysty snapped, losing her patience,

“especially walls that are made of mud and straw. And for two, how can we move

with J.B. in this condition?”

“I guess…yeah, I guess so,” Dean said quietly.

Ryan beckoned them into the center of the hut, where they crouched around the

prone Armorer, as though watching him. Ryan spoke low and soft.

“We’re better fighters, but this is their terrain, and they’re used to the

weather conditions. Besides which they outnumber us. We’ve got a short while to

prepare something. They won’t chill us in this ritual until J.B.’s at least

coherent. Thing is, what exactly do we do?”

“Mebbe,” Jak said, scratching idly, “mebbe need take Abner.”

Ryan nodded. “They seem to follow him blindly, so yeah, if we have him, that’s a

powerful bargaining tool.”

“How far are we going to get out there with John like this?” Mildred looked down

at J.B. and shook her head. “The thing he’ll need most is time, and that’s just

what we don’t have.”

“Then we’ll buy it.” Ryan looked his son squarely in the face. “I’ve got an

idea, and I need to know I can rely on you totally.”

“Dad, you don’t even have to ask,” Dean replied.

THE STARS TWINKLED faintly through the ever present curtain of dust. It was a

lighter breeze than usual on this night, stirring motes on the surface of the

tracks that comprised the roads of the small ville.

Mac sighed and leaned on his blaster, his arms crossed and resting on the mouth

of the long, roughly beaten barrel. It was bored smooth inside, but the outer

metal was still pitted and uneven, where he hadn’t been bothered to shape or

smooth it. The butt rested in the dirt, trigger a long way from his finger. He

was supposed to be on guard, but felt tired after the long trek from the redoubt

back to the ville. They had been on a scavenger hunt, hoping for some equipment

that had been left by the insiders, and hadn’t bargained on walking into a

firefight between the prisoners and some of the insiders.

And it had been a real firefight. Mac had never really gone along with Tilly’s

idea that it was part of some plot to infiltrate the ville. After all, how would

the insiders know that they were going to be there, let alone that they wouldn’t

just chill anyone they captured?

He sighed to himself, barely able to keep his eyelids open. It had always paid

to go along with Tilly, because she was insane and might just tear your throat

out if you said the wrong thing. Tilly and the giant Tod had been two of the

best fighters in the ville, and now they were gone. Mac shook his head sadly.

They were good to have on your side. What his people would do now worried him.

He yawned. It wasn’t his problem. Except that if not for the outlanders, he’d be

as chilled as Tilly and Tod. Even so, Abner had wanted to use them for the

ritual chill. It didn’t strike him as being a good move. Their skills would be

good for the protection of the ville. Besides which, he figured that he owed

them for his life.

But he was just a sec man—the chief, sure, but still just a sec man. He couldn’t

go against the leader.

He was so occupied by his thoughts that he didn’t notice the slight scuffling

behind him, didn’t notice first Jak and then Dean emerge from around the side of

the hut, covered in dirt and mud, pieces of straw still clinging to their

clothing.

Jak picked up a rock from the ground, a jagged but basically round rock that fit

into the palm of his pale hand, and brought it down with a sharp and fierce

force on the back of his skull.

“I CAN’T SAY I feel good about sitting on my ass doing nothing while they’re out

there risking their necks.” Mildred’s tone was angry, but from frustration

rather than anything else, as she soaked strips of cloth in the now cold water,