James Axler – Stoneface

He gestured to a hot plate on a shelf where a pot of delicious-smelling coffee warmed and sweet rolls were stacked on a tray. “Help yourselves.”

After washing down a roll with a cup of the coffee, Ryan felt a little more human, albeit a very smelly, short-tempered and unshaven one. Hellstrom didn’t bother chatting with them, for which everyone was grateful.

After Fleur and what was left of her sec squad boarded the AMAC, Hellstrom assigned two of the men to the control cockpit. The man whom Ryan had belly-punched passed him, steadfastly avoiding eye contact.

The broken-armed man sat near one of the M-249 machine guns, and Fleur sat beside the other.

Since there was much more room in the back on the return trip, Mildred stretched out across several of the chairs, her head in J.B.’s lap. Doc, who appeared so exhausted as to be ill, lay prone on the facing row of seats.

“Let’s roll,” Hellstrom commanded.

The engine of the AMAC caught on the second try, and though he tried, Ryan didn’t see the driver’s preliminary start-up sequence, which, presumably, prevented the wag from self-destructing.

The sun was clear of the horizon by the time the AMAC rumbled from the mouth of the valley and onto the flatlands.

Without preamble, Hellstrom announced, “Cawdor, I’m naming you a scion of the Family. Your official function will be to serve as warlord and adviser.”

From the corner of his eye, Ryan caught Fleur whipping her head around in astonished outrage.

“You will share the title on equal footing with Fleur,” Hellstrom went on smoothly. “And she should not have any objections, inasmuch as you saved her life last night.”

Hellstrom stared past Ryan’s shoulder at Fleur. “I am correct, am I not? My eyes didn’t deceive me?”

Fleur murmured in a subdued tone, “You’re correct. It’s all in order.”

Ryan uttered a short, weary laugh. “I appreciate the honor, Lars. However, I respectfully decline it.”

“And I appreciate your candor, if not your ignorance. Unfortunately you can’t decline it without declining your life and that of your friends.”

Ryan sighed. “I’m fed up with your threats, Lars.”

He made a move to pull his weapon, but Hellstrom threw up his hands in exasperation. “Blasters! Always with the blasters! Put that goddamn thing away, Cawdor, I’m not threatening you. By bestowing this rank upon you, I’m making you an untouchable, sacrosanct, blessed. You’re protected, understand? If you turn me down and try to go on your way, you’ll be fair game for every bladester, duelist, biker and chopmonger in the Black Hills.”

Ryan opened his mouth to respond, but Hellstrom held up a hand. “I know what you’re going say. ‘Just replace our tires and we’ll be on our way.’ I’m sorry, but the traditions, the protocols of the Family, must be observed, or I place my position as patriarch in jeopardy. I don’t want to hurt you, I want to help you.”

“What do you expect us to do?” Krysty demanded. “Stay in Helskel forever, so your population of scumbags won’t come after us?”

Hellstrom shook his head. “Hardly. I have a business proposition for you.”

Ryan guessed the answer to the question he put to Hellstrom, but he asked it anyway. It seemed to be expected. “Which is?”

Hellstrom shifted in his seat. “It’s difficult for me to maintain the level of respect I deserve because I trade with the Beforetime pigs in Lincoln’s nose for everything we have in Helskel. Some Family members are a bit disheartened by the fact that our very survival depends on those holdovers from the time of pig magic.”

Hellstrom’s expression became vaguely disconcerted. “Believe me, the Commander and the other freezie swine up there are a much greater menace to restoring the health of this country than Helskel could ever be.”

J.B. snorted. “You’re breeding a generation of chill-crazy maniacs. You’re not a menace?”

Hellstrom ignored him. “I wantI needthose Beforetimers out of the way, and I need you to help me do it.”

“How so?” Ryan asked. “You’ve got a pocket-sized army at your disposal. They’re fairly well trained and very well armed, aren’t they?”

“Yes, but there has to be an arsenal up there in the nose. As far as I know, they may have guided missiles to nukeblast Helskel from afar.”