James Axler Deathlands 055 Shadow Fortress

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wind, so we can outmaneuver them on land."
"Get moving!" Glassman ordered. "And prepare a Bird. One warning shot and
they'll surrender quick enough."
"Ryan will never surrender," Mitchum stated in a growl, throwing the wag into
gear. "We ace the bastard, or he escapes. There is no other choice."
Visions of his family before a firing squad, Glassman opened his mouth to
speak, then shot a glance at the thing in the sky. Desperately, he tried to
cook up any kind of a plan to capture the flying machine, and nothing came to
mind. He was down two men already. How could you trap a bird in flight? The
only way he knew was with another flying machine. Lacking that, all he could
do was chill the outlanders.
A great and terrible calm flowed over the officer as he realized this failure
meant the death of his wife and child. Then his temples pounded with the
knowledge that if they had to die, then so would the accursed Ryan and his
crew!
"Prepare every Firebird we have," Glassman stated, feeling oddly detached from
the world, as if he were watching this happen to somebody else. "We'll blow
them out of the bastard sky and feed the fish their bones. Now move these
wags!"
"Aye, aye, sir," the navvy replied hesitantly, and commenced readying the
entire pod of deadly missiles.
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D4
"Time to die, traitor," Mitchum said, baring his teeth in a feral snarl as he
began racing down the cracked length of predark asphalt.
Chapter Four
Page 25
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A cool breeze wafted from the wine-dark sea over the aerial craft, the ropes
creaking as its speed remained constant.
The balloon, now called
Pegasus, as
Mildred finally decided to name the craft, had leveled off at four hundred
feet and sailed effortlessly along with the thick jungle spread over the
landscape below like a lush green carpet. Here and there a craggy rise of bare
rocks broke the cover, and to the west was the shiny flat expanse of the
nameless lake, edged by the quagmire full of muties.
The churning ribbon of blue cut a path through the trees, and as the
Pegasus
sailed above the river, it abruptly descended to merely two hundred feet, and
angled away from the winds to unexpectedly begin to follow the rushing waters.
Disturbed by this, Ryan started to cut away another weighted bag, but Mildred
stopped him.
"Not necessary," she explained, "The cool air above the river forms a low-
pressure zone that makes us drop a little. Nothing to be concerned about. Once
we reach the sea, the
Pegasus will go right back up and catch the high winds again."
"Hope so," Ryan replied curtly, holding on to the support ropes. "Because
Cascade is built on a waterfall, this river could feed that."
"Heading in the right direction," J.B. added, checking his compass.
"Better do a recce," Krysty suggested, trying to listen for any hints of men
or machines. But the endless rustle of the leaves masked sounds coming from
the ground.
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D4
"No prob," the Armorer said, reaching into his shoulder bag to extract a
short, fat, brass can.
Sliding the antique telescope to its full length, he swept the landscape. The
storm clouds were thin in the sky, admitting a wealth of silvery moonlight,
the jungle turning black in the reflected illumination. No birds were in
flight, no campfires visible. Other than the burning wreckage they had left
behind, the entire valley was peaceful.
Then tiny jots of yellow flickered into existence to the south. Following the
river, J.B. adjusted the length of the telescope and brought into focus the
outline of a predark bridge with a small ville built on top. The shore at one
end was sealed off with some form of bamboo wall, tiny figures moving along
the top. Beyond the bridge was more forest, partly masked by great clouds of
mist.
"There's a ville dead ahead," he reported, struggling to hold the telescope
steady against the rhythmic rocking of the rope basket. "Seems to be a
waterfall just beyond. Must be Cascade."
"How picturesque," Doc rumbled in amusement. "A city on a waterfall."
Mildred added, "Pretty slick if they know anything about building
waterwheels."
"Fireblast," Ryan cursed, throwing his weight to the left to try to stop the
rope basket from turning. The trick worked and the craft settled. "No wonder
there are so many bastard wags in the area. Cascade was only a few miles away
from the crashed plane. We were right on top of the baron's troops." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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