“I have salves and ointments,” Doc said, “antibacterial lotions for preventing infections, and antibiotics for inflammations and diseases that do occur in spite of the best efforts.” The tubes and vials lay spread out across the blanket, each clearly marked by the Red Cross emblem and military markings. Doc held up a short, wide-mouthed blue jar. “There is even some topical anesthetic, good for dental problems, as well as limited invasive surgeries.” He turned to face Liberty again. “As you can see, sir, I have quite a selection of valuable merchandise.”
“Stuff you got,” Liberty admitted, “is worth a lot of jack.”
Doc grinned, but Ryan felt like a fist was squeezing his insides. His breath came shorter and clearer, the adrenaline pumping through his system. It was coming down to it.
“A man in my position,” Doc said, “likes to hear that as an opening comment from a potential buyer.”
“Where did you get this stuff?” Liberty demanded.
“Scavenging,” Doc replied. “This area is still rocked by the occasional quake.” The companions knew that from an earlier jump to the region. “My friend and I stumbled across a subterranean site that must have been heretofore undiscovered, possibly covered over, then pushed to the surface by tremors like a boiling pocket of pus.”
“And you got lucky enough to find it?”
“My dear sir,” Doc said, “it was bound to be found by someone.”
Liberty shifted his attention to Ryan. “That the way you’re gonna tell it, One-Eye?”
“Mebbe.” Ryan faced the man directly. “If I was of a mind to tell it.” He knew the gang leader didn’t believe him. A larcenous gleam colored the man’s eyes. “I came here to deal, not dicker. If you’re not interested enough, reckon we’ll push on.”
“I’m interested,” Liberty said. “I’d be more interested in knowing where you got this.”
“That would be stupe,” Ryan said. “If we told you where, you could go get your own. You wouldn’t need to buy what we got to offer.”
Liberty waved a hand toward the covered blanket. “So if I buy this, you’d tell me where you found it?”
Ryan shook his head slowly. “I’d sell you the location.”
Liberty laughed. “You saying there’s more?”
“Mebbe.”
“And how am I supposed to trust you?”
“I think that was my question just a short time back,” Ryan said. “We’re here. We could have let your people ride on past us.”
“Wrong. We cut your sign almost two hours ago. Trailed you here.”
“If you’d have followed it back instead of following us,” Ryan said, “you’d have found that trail dropped off into the edge of nowhere in one of the streams through this area. Look all you want. You won’t find where we came from.” Jak had seen to that, then made sure the other companions had arrived in the present location without leaving a trail, as well.
“You think you’re a canny son of a bitch, don’t you?” Liberty asked.
“I’m a man,” Ryan replied, “still standing in my own boots and making my own way.”
“A bullet changes all of that,” Liberty replied.
“Changes it for any man,” Ryan countered easily. “I’ve spent a few cartridges myself, permanently changing the thinking of some folks.”
“What do you want for this, old man?” Liberty directed his question at Doc, but he didn’t take his attention from Ryan.
“How much of it?” Doc asked.
“All,” Liberty said. “All of it.”
“We want some ammo as an exchange,” Doc answered.
And Ryan knew things were about to go down now from the slight shifting Liberty exhibited, from the way the younger man’s eyes narrowed. Perhaps if Liberty had been a little older, more experienced than just killing muties, he would have settled for trading. But Liberty wasn’t going to play it that way.
“Ammo?” A crooked grin lighted the man’s face. He smoothly raised the Winchester from his knees and aimed it at Ryan. “Goodbye, One-Eye.”
Chapter Two
Jak knew death as an intimate experience. It measured in heartbeats, from the last one to the next one that didn’t come. A man trained in killing knew which heartbeat to act on. He waited patiently.
Breathing easily, he ran a hand down the front of his camo vest. His fingertips avoided the sharp bits of metal sewn into the cloth to prevent man or beast from wanting to get too close to him. More metal bits studded his pants, providing an offense, as well as a defense.