Jak’s .357 blaster roared to life behind Ryan. The big hollow booms echoed between the buildings. The roll of shots was punctuated by yelps of pain, and curses from men Ryan assumed were Slaggers.
Twisting to put his back against the fire escape, the one-eyed man used it as a brace, then pushed against the lead dog harder. Grudgingly the animal bent, exposing its side. Ryan thrust at once, sinking the panga between the cur’s ribs to pierce its heart and lungs.
The dog jerked as if hit by an electric current from a wag battery, then fell back. The one-eyed man closed a fist in the loose flesh of the animal’s neck and heaved it over the side through the bars of the fire escape.
The dead dog dropped onto a small knot of curs leaping up at the fire escape, knocking several of them away.
A moment later, Ryan booted the second animal from the fire escape as well, then charged up the steps again. Slaggers scattered around the ground below them, firing up into the iron structure.
Ryan sheathed the panga and drew the 9 mm blaster. He tracked his targets automatically, squeezing the trigger quickly.
The bullets took out a trio of Slaggers, punching them to the ground.
“Too many,” Jak stated.
“I know.” Ryan kept firing, no longer hitting the Slaggers easily because they’d gone to ground as soon as they realized how well he could shoot. Sparks leaped from the rust-red iron bars of the fire escape, raked by the Slagger gunfire.
Jak dumped the empty shells from the .357, scattering brass across the steps. He reloaded quickly, his nimble fingers searching for bullets in the secret pockets in his clothing.
Reaching the top of the fire escape, Ryan saw that it ended nearly ten feet from the side of the building. From the ground, he hadn’t been able to discern that. At the top now, the fire escape also swayed sickeningly from his and Jak’s combined weight.
Ryan paused only a moment at the top. The end of the structure was nearly four feet taller than the roof of the building. He scanned the rooftop, wondering where Krysty was and why she wasn’t providing covering fire.
Then he saw her prostrate body lying facedown on the roof. Her limbs lay twisted in awkward positions.
Ryan’s heart turned cold in his chest, and he stopped breathing as he looked at the woman.
“Ryan,” Jak said behind him, “got move. Otherwise, chilled here and now.”
Getting the sway of the fire escape locked into his reflexes, Ryan leaped toward the building. He almost made it, but fell short of getting most of his body weight on the rooftop. Gravity pulled at him, dragging him down. He fell, then caught himself with his free hand.
By the time he pulled himself back up to the rooftop, Jak landed in an economical roll and came up on his feet. The albino raised the .357 in both hands, swinging the barrel to cover the rooftop.
Ryan raced to Krysty’s side, knowing some of the Slaggers and the dogs were making their way up the fire escape, as well. He knelt beside the redhead and placed a hand on her shoulder, looking her over to see where she’d been wounded.
There didn’t appear to be a mark on her.
Before Ryan had a chance to guess at what had happened to her, three growling dogs erupted from the top of the fire escape, jockeying for position. One of them gathered enough courage to fling itself across the distance.
Surprisingly the animal landed almost entirely on the rooftop. It held on with its front legs and whined loudly as its back legs pedaled frantically against the side of the wall below.
Ryan lifted the SIG-Sauer and lowered the sights over the animal’s head. He squeezed the trigger, and a hollow-point bullet pulped the dog’s head in a bloody spray that whipped over the other animals behind it.
The dog died without a sound and toppled from the rooftop.
Ryan continued to fire, raking the fire escape with the pistol until it cycled dry. Through the haze of blue gun smoke the cheap reload cartridges made, he watched another dog drop in its tracks while others retreated.