“For a what?” she asked. “For a woman?”
“For such a pretty one, at least.”
“A woman’s got to protect herself. There are a lot of bad people out in the Deathlands.”
“I’ve seen a few of them.”
“But when they brought me here, they took my blaster from me.” Krysty drew the zipper a little lower, exposing her full breasts enclosed in a lacy bra. “I know I can’t ever have it back, but I’ve been wondering what they might have done with it.”
“Oh, it’s likely in the armory with the others,” the sec man said, licking his lips like a dog. “They brought all the outlanders’ blasters down there. I’ve seen some of them. Quality stuff.”
“The other sec men haven’t taken them for themselves yet?” Krysty said breathlessly.
“No.” He shook his head. “Everything that comes into the farm like that belongs to the baron. He’ll probably have a shooting contest in a few days to see who deserves to have the best blasters. Then the rest of us will upgrade with blasters being used by more senior sec men.” He looked at his remade .22. “Maybe I’ll have to give up my crippler for a man-stopper.”
“Where is the armory?”
“Down in the basement of this building. It’s right next door to the nursery.”
“And who has keys to it?”
“Baron Fox, of course.”
“Of course.”
“Sec chief Grundwold does, too. And the armory’s quartermaster, of course.”
“No one else has a key?”
“There might be a few others.” He shrugged. “The lock’s mostly to keep people from wandering into the room by mistake. The door’s not all that strong, so if someone really wanted to get in, all they’d have to do is break down the door.”
Krysty nodded, sat up straight in her chair and began zipping up her top. “That was a great breakfast,” she said, smiling. “But the company was best of all. Will you be bringing my lunch?”
“I could try and get the duty if you like.”
“Oh, yes, I’d like that very much.”
“Consider it done.”
“See you then.”
The young sec man smiled as he lingered in the room, finally bumping into the door frame on his way out.
REMOVING THE 37 mm cannon from the nose of the P-39 was proving more difficult than J.B. had thought it would be. The engine was behind the pilot’s seat and drove the propeller by way of a long extension shaft. That allowed the nose of the aircraft to house the cannon, firing directly through the propeller hub, along with a pair of .50-caliber machine blasters sitting in the top part of the nose. The blasters had been easy to take out, but the gearing and shaft driving the engine proved to be an obstacle to the removal of the cannon.
“How’s it coming, J.B.?” Doc asked.
“I don’t think we’re going to be raiding the farm tonight, Doc.”
“Stubborn,” Jak observed, coming up alongside Doc.
“That’s a good word for it.”
Doc rested an arm on the plane’s wing. “Is there anything we can do to help?”
“Something to eat would be nice. And a warm cup of coffee sub.”
Doc, Jak and Dean all turned to look at Clarissa.
“Are you boys good with those blasters?”
Doc sighed. “Must you ask?”
“Okay, then, do you like fish?”
“Haven’t had any for a while,” J.B. said.
“Well, there’s a spot below the falls where you might be able to shoot some for dinner.”
“Shooting fish in a barrel?” Doc asked.
“Something like that.”
“Doc stays with me,” J.B. commanded. “You two go with her. We’ll need enough to get us through today and tomorrow.”
Jak and Dean followed Clarissa out of the underground garage.
“And Jak…” J.B. called out.
The albino turned.
“I don’t want to hear anything about the ones that got away.”
Jak unholstered his .357 Magnum Colt Python. “No worry. Fish not escape.”
WITHOUT PURVIS LOOKING over the crew, work in the orchards was almost pleasant for Ryan and Brody. They were pulling weeds again, but no one was pushing them hard, since most everyone’s thoughts were on the afternoon’s contest.
At morning break, an older man approached Ryan, standing over him and Brody as they drank some much needed water.