“Exposure to hostile blasters and us without cover,” Ryan replied, “I figure that would kill us some quicker.” He made decisions for the group, and they all knew it. And when they had something to say, they spoke their minds and he thought about it. Democracies didn’t survive in Deathlands, because they took too long to react to changes in the given situation.
“You’re right,” Mildred said. “I was just thinking maybe you and Krysty might take it easy after all you’ve been through.”
Krysty touched the woman’s shoulder. “I’ll be okay. Ryan took the worst of it.”
Ryan shrugged on his pack, feeling the deeper pain of his ordeal hovering around him, warded off by the adrenaline still pumping through his system. “I’m going to walk,” he said, “until I find a place safe enough or I can’t walk anymore. Anything else would be double stupe, and put the rest of you in danger, as well.” He turned to the albino. “Jak, which way?”
The teenager pointed with his chin. “Ahead.”
Turning up the collar of his coat, Ryan moved out. “You got point, Jak.”
The albino nodded and vanished into the snow flurries within a half-dozen steps.
“J.B.,” Ryan said, “you’re walking drag.”
The Armorer dropped out of the single-file line forming behind Ryan.
“Doc, you’re the man next to him.” He forced himself up the slight incline already covered with a layer of snow. He kept the Steyr in one hand and used the other to help balance himself as he went over the uneven terrain. He could no longer see Jak, but his combat senses allowed him to feel the teen’s presence somewhere up in front of him.
Pain nagged every step Ryan made, but he knew it was nothing permanent. A good night’s rest, possibly two if it could be managed, and he’d be as good as new. He pushed the accumulated aches and discomforts aside, falling into the easy rhythm of movement he’d become accustomed to.
“DAMMIT!” DEAN YELLED before he could stop himself. He was almost certain Phaedra had broken his nose this time. Red dots exploded in his vision. He put both hands in front of him to ward off another blow.
The bed shifted as Phaedra drew back her arm. “You triple-stupe mutie jackass! You bastard pervert! Your mother probably lay with the ugliest, foulest boar she could find to sire you!” She launched another blow.
Dean batted it aside, angry himself now, and fearful of taking another direct hit to the nose. Phaedra was three or four years older than he was, an inch or so taller and probably near the same weight because she carried a woman’s figure instead of a girl’s.
“Stop it!” he yelled at her.
She struck at him again.
Dean took the punch on the outside of his arm and moved it away.
Phaedra howled with frustration.
“They’re going to hear you,” Dean said, his voice not much above a strong whisper.
“I don’t care! I hate you! I’m going to scratch your eyes out, then I’m going to stomp them into jelly, put them onto pieces of sourdough bread and give them to the rats!” She flailed an open hand at him, and he caught it on his shoulder, the smack echoing in the room.
Dean grabbed her wrists out of self-defense. Over her shoulder, Calgary Ventnor was waving frantically for him to leave the room. “Stop it!” he told the girl. “I thought you weren’t going to scream if I told you!”
“I lied!” Her eyes blazed at him. “You’re insufferable! I can’t believe I let you sit on my bed!”
“You didn’t let me,” Dean said. “I slipped in here and let myself.” The blanket had dropped even farther, to where the material clung only by the nubbin of her nipple to protect the last shreds of modesty. His breath felt thick in his throat.
Calgary Ventnor mouthed Dean’s name in wide pantomime. The boy slipped, a white look of terror crossing his animated and blood-filled features.
For a moment Dean thought Calgary was going to fall and had mixed feelings about the other boy’s survival. He kept his hands around Phaedra’s wrists and forced her back on the bed, where she couldn’t gain enough leverage to break free. One leg coiled around his waist in an effort to move out from beneath him. With all the flesh showing, Dean was suddenly and certainly sure that the girl wasn’t wearing panties, either. He was watching the expanse of flesh increase, hypnotized, stopping just short of her sex, but not short enough to keep the blond wisps of her pubic hair hidden.
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