James Axler – Shadowfall

“You’d push this to a killing over a triple-stupe old prick like Doc?”

“I’d push this whoever was concerned. Including you, Trader. Put the rifle down.”

Ryan’s skin crawled, aware that it could go either way. Doc had backed down, but he wasn’t a man like Trader. For Trader to back down was something else.

“I could finish you, Ryan.”

“Mebbe.”

Trader shook his head vigorously. “No. Not mebbe, Ryan. Right here and now I could put a cluster of 9 mm rounds into your guts.”

“You wouldn’t live to take the next breath if you did that,” Krysty said, her own double-action Smith amp; Wesson 640 rock steady on Trader’s chest.

“She’s right.” Jak held his own Colt python on Trader.

“Goes for all of us, Trader.” J.B.’s face was invisible in the shadow under the fedora’s brim, but the threat of the Uzi was all too visible.

“All of you?” Trader turned toward Abe. “Don’t see your Magnum speaking out on my side.”

The little man shuffled his feet nervously. “Have to say that I go along with what Ryan says. Not that Doc should’ve said what he did,” he added hastily.

“I have already acknowledged that to Trader, Abraham,” Doc said solemnly. “I now await his apology in return.”

Trader laughed, a sudden snorting, barking laugh. “What the fuck!” He switched the Armalite to his left hand, offering the right to Doc and shaking firmly. “Words don’t mean shit after a firefight, Doc. Nothing to worry about. You saved us all and I thank you for that.”

Ryan surreptitiously wiped his sweating hands down the thighs of his pants.

“WHAT HAPPENED to their leader, Ditchdown?” J.B. asked. “He kind of disappeared once Straub came on the scene.”

Ryan nodded. “I read that he’s a sort of senior man. Schickel was really their war chief, and Straub was someone who’d come along and was using them all to his own advantage. That how you see it?”

“Sure. It means that they might still try to go ahead with that plan they had to go after the baron.”

“Could be. He say how far off the ville was, J.B.? Was it fifteen miles?”

It was the Armorer’s turn to nod. “We’ve been going around four hours. Dawn can’t be far off. Should be within about three miles or so of the ville.”

“Yeah. So far so good.”

THE FIRST PALLOR of the false dawn was creeping over the land, and the snow on the mountaintops ahead of them was already touched with pink.

They had crossed a couple of old blacktops, the surface of the pavement rippled like taffy from quakes.

The tall trees were behind them, and they were moving through a mixed forest, on a broad trail.

When they heard the pigs.

Chapter Nineteen

The companions were moving in a loose skirmish line, with Jak stalking along at point, his white hair like a glowing beacon for the others to follow.

Ryan and Krysty, with Dean just ahead of them, brought up the rear of the group.

“Lovely morning,” the woman said, her hand resting gently on Ryan’s arm. She breathed deeply. “Just smell that freshness. Think the air was as good as this back in predark days?”

“Don’t know. Supposed to have had all sorts of pollutants and chemicals and lead and stuff that destroyed the atmosphere. As well as the nuke leaks.”

She nodded. “I read some old mag once that said the planet would have become sterile and dead within twenty years if skydark and the long winters hadn’t come along first and both destroyed and saved.”

“Skin cancers increased by fifty percent in the last few years. That breathing sickness in kids was massively worse. What’s it called?”

“You mean asthma, lover?”

“Right. They reckon What’s up?”

Jak held his right hand raised, the warning signal for silence.

They gathered around him, everyone with a blaster drawn and ready.

“What?” Ryan whispered.

“Real quiet and listen. Caught it twice.”

Everyone stood still.

The dawn chorus of birds was only just beginning. A bright-breasted jay sat on a branch only yards away, head thrown back, noisily greeting the new day. Jak stopped and picked up a fallen pine cone, lobbing it at the bird, missing by inches, sending it fluttering away.