James Axler Deathlands 052 Zero City

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here, the reason soon painfully obvious. A hundred feet down was a sluggish
yellow river reeking of sulfur and other chems.
"Must be runoff water from the desert," Krysty guessed. "We already knew they
got bad acid rain here."
"Now how the hell do we get across this?" Mildred asked, clutching her med
kit.
"We don't," Jak said, jerking a thumb to their left.
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Nearby, the great arches of steel were all that remained of the predark bridge
crossing the river. A wide road led to paved ramp extensions that ended in
melted gobbets of cooled metal only feet from the embankments. An identical
section stood on the other side of the river. But the center span of the
bridge was completely gone. Worse, two more smashed bridges were visible
upriver, hundreds of severed steel cables dangling limply into the brackish
flow of the polluted river.
"Well, if we dive in, the fall wouldn't hurt us," Mildred said, sounding half
serious. "But nobody could live for long in that water. Plus, there's no way
to climb up the other side. Those support pillions are thicker than the
Hummer."
"Mebbe after they took the cars, the people smashed the bridges," Dean
suggested.
"And permanently cut themselves off from all the material on this side?
Doubtful," Ryan said, rubbing his jaw. "I think if we follow the shoreline for
long enough, we'll find how they get across."
"Mebbe fly like muties," Jak said.
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Resting the longblaster on her shoulder, Krysty merely arched a fiery eyebrow
at the unsettling suggestion when a piercing scream of terror sounded from
their left, followed closely by the telltale rattle of autofire.
"That was a child," Mildred said, aghast.
Ryan agreed, and friend or foe, combat was always something that should be
investigated. The next minute it might very well be coming their way.
"Silent probe, single-yard spread," Ryan ordered, drawing his pistol and
starting forward at an easy run.
Chapter Six
Clutching a headless doll, a small girl was running madly down the sandy
street, her long hair flying in the wind. She slowed to glance over her
shoulder to see if the monsters were still after them.
"Keep running!" her father screamed, dropping to one knee and discharging a
handblaster at the pack of wolves chasing them. The weapon banged in smoke and
sparks, and a store window down the street exploded into pieces.
Cursing the inaccuracy of his blaster, the man turned and ran, trying to
reload, but paper and lead balls dropped from his fumbling hands. His wife ran
without pausing, a small crying bundle held tight in her arms.
Straight ahead, the road angled into the ground and ended at a tiled wall with
two huge openings. The left side was crudely bricked solid, ivy growing up the
stones to show the age of the work. But the left side was open. Two large
wooden doors swung aside, exposing a brick-lined tunnel extending into the
darkness. Two gigantic machines of some sort bracketed the tiled wall and
formed an impressive barricade. In front was a sandbag wall topped with
twisted coils of barbed wire. Behind the sandbags
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were three men in predark uniforms, two in military fatigues, the third
dressed as a policeman. The soldiers were frantically working nim-rods to
charge their muzzle-loading rifles. The policeman was notching a barbed arrow
into a crossbow made from the spring leaves of a car.
"Here!" the policeman screamed, taking aim at the family with his weapon.
"This way! Keep coming!"
"Don't look back!" added the short private, locking back the hammer on his
museum-piece rifle.
The other private leveled his rifle and fired. The long-blaster thundered like
a bazooka, volumes of smoke exploding from the barrel almost hiding him. But
no yelp of pain came from the snarling animals so very close behind the
runners.
Turning, the father fired again, and the lead wolf yipped in pain. Shoving his
blaster into a pocket, the elderly man then ran for all he was worth, losing
items from pockets at every step of the way.
Almost losing the doll in her arms, the girl reached the wall of sandbags and
stopped looking for a way past the obstruction. The tall policeman reached out
to grab her arm and brutally hauled the child over.
She gasped in pain and landed sprawling on the side, losing her toy. The short
private scooped it up and thrust it back into her tiny arms as he shoved her [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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