“Makes sense,” J.B. stated.
Ryan looked at Jak and got a nod of approval from the albino. “Cover him,” Ryan told Jak.
The teenager put his .357 Magnum on the man. “Move,” he ordered.
“My boys go with us,” the sailor said. “I ain’t leaving them here to take their chances with the Slaggers when they watch me sail out of here with you.”
“You’re getting mighty pushy for a man one bullet away from being chilled,” Ryan said.
“Figure there’s no better time,” the man replied. “Still remains to be seen if you can chill me before I get close enough to open you up, take a look inside.”
Ryan grinned at the man’s confidence, appreciating it. “They go.” He turned and waved to his companions, yelling at them to run. He could already see the dogs closing the distance, hear their baying echoing across the river.
In seconds, they’d loaded aboard the sailboat and ducked down out of sight. Blasterfire from the wags pelted the river and tore into the sailboat’s sides.
Ryan took up a position aft, easing the Steyr into position on the railing. He led the first wag he spotted, then squeezed the trigger and rode out the recoil. The heavy bullet sheared through the broken windshield of the wag and exploded the face of the man beyond.
Out of control, the wag slewed crazily down the steep incline and into a small rowboat less than a dozen yards from the boat Ryan had chosen. The wag and rowboat went down at once, showing how surprisingly deep the channel had cut through the land throughout the years it had flowed through it. Ryan managed to pick off two more Slaggers before the coldhearts pulled back and formed a skirmish line. J.B. fell in beside him, but held fire for the moment. It was enough that the Slaggers knew they were armed.
Turning, Ryan watched the sailor’s boys shinny up the masts like daring monkeys. They cut the sailcloth free in a heartbeat as their father cast off the lines. By the time they reached the decks, the wind was already starting to fill the sails and pull the boat into smooth motion.
J.B. cut loose with the Remington M-4000 three times. The hollow booms rolled across the boat and the water, but the knife-edged flechettes ripped the dogs that raced down the dock to bloody tatters. Their corpses tumbled into the water.
The boat came about smoothly, taking to the water and charging upstream despite the current. The sailor kept his hand on the wheel, working the boom and calling out orders to his sons.
Ryan came down from the slightly raised prow and walked along the side facing the incline where the Slaggers raced on the bank. The coldhearts hadn’t given up the chase, but with the lack of roads along the bank, they weren’t having much success. Still, their bullets ripped across the sailboat’s deck, ripping holes in the sailcloth.
The sailor cursed lustily as he saw the damage done to his sails. He ordered his boys to stay low. Ryan signaled to Doc to keep them under his eye. There was every possibility the man had weapons aboard his craft and might seek to redress his current situation.
A final volley managed to kill one of the women and two of the men aboard the sailboat, leaving Mary and her husband, and Elmore and one of the other women, as well as the children. The little girl screamed in anguish and held on to her dead father until Krysty took her into her arms and pulled her to safety. The men died instantly, but the woman died screaming, her guts blasted out of her and stringing across the boat deck.
In the end, Mildred held her tight, then slipped her ZKR 551 against the back of the woman’s head and pulled the trigger to put her out of her misery. Blood sprayed into the air and dappled the belling sailcloth with crimson splotches.
When the woman was dead, Mildred shoved her over the edge. She hit the water with a splash, quickly falling behind the wake of the sailboat. For a moment, the body floated in the water, intestines strung out around her like a bloody spiderweb. Then the fish began to feed, nibbling at the rubbery trails of soft flesh and dragging it under in places.