The building was darkened and still, all the more obvious in the light and confusion surrounding.
“Guess that’s seen to that,” Downey remarked. “Let’s go and get that mother nuke, my friend.”
J.B. grunted his assent, and they left the shelter of the tin shack to enter the fray.
KRYSTY FOUND herself alongside Rankine and Bodie. The rangy sec man was striding through the mayhem with ease, firing off shots from his .303 Lee Enfield and then swinging the stock to club Sunchildren out of his path.
“Impressive dude, eh?” Bodie panted in Krysty’s ear, the exertion showing on his fat face. He was using his blaster sparingly, a Tekna knife like the Armorer’s clasped in his other pudgy hand. “Me, I’m not really much of a fighter. Always get nerves, you know? Talk too fuckin’ much, like I am now. Nerves, y’see?”
Krysty raised her blaster and took off the top half of an advancing stickie’s head with one shot. There were still a few of the stickies that had been in Sunchild’s attack party at the ville, and they were now robed like the other Sunchildren—although instantly identifiable from their tiny eyes, needle-sharp teeth and splayed sucker fingers, as well as their almost bizarre lack of hair.
Bodie whistled. “Nice shootin’, babe.”
The titian-haired woman turned to him. “Don’t call me ‘babe.'” Then added, “Look out!”
Distracted by his nervousness and the finely muscled female fighting machine at his side, Bodie hadn’t noticed a robed Sunchild come flying at him from his unprotected left-hand side. He was turned toward Krysty, and although her cry had made him turn, it wasn’t quick enough. The mutie was on him in a flying leap, bellowing wordlessly as he clawed at the sec man, attacking even while still in midair.
The two hit the hard-packed earth with a thud that drove the air from both their bodies. Krysty couldn’t blast the mutie as he and Bodie were too entwined, so she grabbed a handful of robe and flesh from near the mutie’s neck and heaved upward.
The muscles in her arms stood out, and the cords on her neck grew taut. Her flaming hair whirled wildly with a life of its own as the mutie flew back in the air.
While he was still above the ground, she had leveled her Smith & Wesson blaster, putting a slug into his soft chest.
“Wow!” Bodie exclaimed. “That was something else!”
Krysty shook her head in amazement. “Just be careful unless you want to be chilled. I won’t be beside you all the time,” she added, chucking his chin as though he were a child.
Before Bodie had a chance to say much else, Krysty had disappeared into the fray, leaving him to watch his own back.
DOC HAD BEEN one of the last to hit the floor of the valley, picking his way down carefully so that he wouldn’t fall and either chill himself or be a burden for any well-meaning Raw dweller who was close.
He needn’t have worried. When he reached bottom, Mildred was waiting for him, using her ZKR to pick off approaching muties.
“By the Three Kennedys! Could it be that you are awaiting mine own humble presence?” Doc muttered as he righted himself.
“Well, I figured a crazy old buzzard like you may need some nursemaiding,” Mildred said.
“Less than graciously put, my good woman, but nonetheless I appreciate the sentiment.”
“Then stop talking and let’s get moving,” Mildred said quickly. “I figure it would be best for all concerned if you and me got to that nuke first, seeing as we’re the only ones present who may have some idea of the tech.”
“If Harvey is that close to Jenna, then he’ll know of the technology involved,” Doc replied. Then, as Mildred spared him a glance, he added, “Although I agree that such a thought only reinforces your point.”
They began to move into the main body of Samtvogel. By the time that Doc had descended, the battle had moved inward, the advancing force pushing back the surprised Sunchildren until they were almost entirely contained to the central clearing, around their sacrificial altar—and, more importantly, the totem-decorated nuke.