“Interesting, if true,” Amanda said softly. “And, yes, I can see by the expression in your face, sir, that it is true. The Beast of the Wheel is no more?”
“You could say that, yes.” Then Ryan added, “Although whether a machine can truly die is beyond me. But it will never work again. That’s for bastard sure.”
“Excellent,” the blonde purred excitedly. “Indeed, more than excellent. Superb. Then you can claim a triple reward from my father, the ward. First for rescuing me, another for killing the Beast and for slaying six of the Sons.”
“Fine. Always need supplies,” Ryan said.
“And what would you wish?” she asked with a smile. “Name it. Perhaps a yule, with servants and a thousand acres of land?”
“Had a bigger spread than that already”‘ Ryan said gruffly. “Left it behind.”
“Really?” She seemed surprised, and regarded him more closely. “You are from a barony?”
Ryan scowled. “Was.”
Amanda demurred. She wasn’t quite sure how to handle this situation.
These were unusual people. They helped a strange woman in distress, yet didn’t take her themselves, even when she offered. The conclusion was obvious. They had women of their own, which meant there was more than just the two of them. Perhaps an entire yule, or a roving band.
Past the trucks, she could see they were nearing the ramp that led to the roadway. From here it would be simplicity to start her bike and roar away. But she bad no wish to leave their presence. Not yet. If they had truly slain the Beast of the Wheel, they were a force to be reckoned with.
Stopping amid the last row of vehicles, Ryan whistled twice, then proceeded.
Amanda gasped as an enormous tank came into view, its curved hull bristling with weapons. Standing alongside the behemoth was an old man in a frock coat holding a cane, and a stocky black woman with hair resembling snakes, blasters in their hands. On the ground, a pair of legs stuck out from underneath the armored chassis.
“The beast!” Amanda screamed, drawing her weapon.
“No!” Dean cried.
Diving for cover, Doc and Mildred went into the weeds as the MAC-b sprayed bullets across the hull. As the legs on the ground retracted fully under the vehicle, Ryan knocked the machine pistol out of the woman’s grip with the stock of the Steyr. Her blaster fell with a clatter, and Dean put his foot on top.
“What are you doing?” she screamed. “That is the Beast! It has murdered hundreds of my people!”
“This is our tank.”
“Yours?”
“Everybody okay?” Dean called out, picking up the MAC-b, never taking his sight off the so-called lady.
Mildred and Doc rose from the weeds, both of their weapons pointed straight toward the barefoot beauty.
Ryan opened and closed his hand twice in the all-clear signal. “And how is Charles?”
“Charles is fine,” Mildred said, responding correctly. Neither of them relaxed, but their barrels were no longer pointed directly at the blonde on the bike.
Arm in a sling, Jak appeared in the doorway. “We fine, too.”
“Good, and how are the-” Ryan started to say repairs, but looked at the furious woman. “How is the hunt going? Find those snake eggs yet?”
“Nearly,” J.B. said from under the vehicle. “And I gather we have a guest?”
“Guest? Prisoner, you lying scum!” Amanda spit in unbridled fury. “So you are the masters of the Beast!”
Ryan shook his head. “This is another vehicle.”
“You lie!”
“Why?” Dean asked.
“As a trick to get the ransom!” she stormed. “Or to get past the ville defenses and kill my people. But it won’t work! You’ll get nothing from me. I’ll never talk!”
His patience clearly at an end, Ryan’s face got hard, so Dean asked quickly, “What do you know of the Beast? Do we resemble the craft In any way?”
Confused, Amanda paused, conflicting emotions playing across her bruised face. “Well, no,” she admitted hesitantly. “Not really. It is known to have metal treads and you have wheels.”
“Anything else?”
She studied the vehicle closely. Its dull gray hull was battered and damaged, the radio antenna only a short nub, something metallic bad melted on the rooftop, rivulets of cooled steel dangling down like silvery icicles, and there were scorch marks where burning fluids had washed over the vehicle from stem to stern. The reports of her spies told how nothing seemed to mark the mirror black bull of the Beast.