“Crazy sons of bitches,” he said, joining Ryan in the old water tower. “Dark night! Ankle’s painful.”
“Not a break?”
“No.” J.B. sat on the floor and cautiously moved his foot backward and forth. “Bit of a sprain.” He took off his glasses and tried to clean them, shaking his head in disgust. “Damned chem storm soaked me through.”
“Helped us, though.”
“Yeah. Guess it did.”
“Trader?”
The Armorer stood, flexing his ankle. “Saw him ahead of me, close by you.”
“I saw him as well. Looked to me like the old man was having the time of his life.”
“Mebbe the last time of his life. I lost sight of him near that stream.”
Ryan went and peered outside into the still night. “Nothing stirring.” J.B. joined him. “Then we wait.”
“WHAT DO YOU MAKE IT?”
Ryan angled his chron toward the faint beams of moonlight that still filtered into the ruined tower. “Little after three. Eight minutes past.”
“How long we wait for him?”
“Dawn, I reckon. That street gang was so jolt-crazed that they might decide to come after us again at first light. Wouldn’t want to hang around any longer than that.”
“Think Trader’ll make it here?”
Ryan steepled his fingers, resting his chin on them. “Who knows, J.B., who knows? Years ago we’d both have backed Trader to run naked through an army of stickies and come out the other end without a scratch.”
“Not now, Ryan.”
“No. Not now. Sure the old man’s still tough. Look at Abe’s stories about him. Taking out all of that posse in the night to rescue him.”
“If we wait for dawn, do you think Abe might come looking for us?”
Ryan hadn’t really thought that one through. “Guess he might. Could be we go before dawn.”
THE LITTLE GUNNER WAS a few miles away from them, dozing in the back of the glass-lined hearse. When he’d seen the raging chem storm moving across the center of the ville, he’d abandoned plans to sleep outside.
The heart of the storm hadn’t come that close, but the noise and light had spooked the animals. He’d gotten up twice to check that they were still secure, tightening the line between the trees and taking the extra precaution of putting hobbles on the horses’ forelegs.
There had been a few dashes of rain, streaking the polished glass, but there was little of the fury that Abe had watched over Seattle.
“Hope those three get good and wet,” he’d muttered, grinning, to himself. “Teach them to leave me on my own.”
But now he was awake again, getting out of the back of the hearse to relieve himself. He unbuttoned and stared across country toward the ville, turning as one of the horses moved restlessly. Abe realized that he could actually see the line of horses, though they were still faint and indistinct.
“Shit a brick!” he exclaimed, “dose to dawn already, and they ain’t back.”
He finished urinating and did up his pants, whistling softly through his teeth. “Ryan said if dawn came on the third day Looks like being me to the rescue again.” But not even Abe was convinced by his own tone of voice.
“HOW MUCH LONGER, Ryan?”
The one-eyed man was just outside the broken door to the big tower, head on one side, straining to listen. “Sure I heard dogs, far off. Wonder if the gang’s still out there, mebbe hunting Trader. Could be he’s wounded.”
“Wouldn’t want to be the one bent down to cut his throat,” J.B. commented. “Even a dying Trader would bite your face off and spit it in the dirt.”
Ryan turned back. “Just a touch of light from the east. If we’re going to Abe, then we should move on.” He paused. “What was that?”
“What?”
Both of them stood together, with blasters ready, staring into the blackness that lurked down the steep hill from their hiding place.
“Someone coming.”
J.B. was so close that their shoulders brushed. “Walking crook.”
The sound of a limping man’s footfalls reached them, as did the noise of labored breathing.
“Trader?”
“Soon know.”
The voice was high and strained, but instantly recognizable. “Yo, inside! Anyone there?”