"It's been better."
Ryan sat beside Mildred and began to eat. The soup was as good as any he'd tasted. When he was done eating it, he broke his roll into chunks and used it to soak up the broth. When he was about to bite into his tomato, a middle-aged dark-haired woman, heavy with child, sat in front of Mildred and Ryan.
"I don't think Purvis likes you much," she said.
"Is that his name, Purvis?" Ryan asked.
"Yes, Andy Purvis. He's the leader of our crew."
"Not much of a leader if you ask me," Mildred said, chewing on a piece of meat from her stew.
"I don't think he's going to forget what happened today. Be careful tonight. He'll be looking for you."
"Why? What will happen tonight?"
"We'll work the fields until a few hours before sundown when the white wags will come out to bring us back to the main house. In back of the main building we'll be able to wash ourselves and freshen up. Then we all go to the dining hall for dinner, which will probably be soup and stew again."
Ryan nodded, wondering if he might try the stew tonight.
"After dinner there'll be some sort of entertainment on the dining-hall stage."
"Entertainment?" Mildred's eyes widened. "What kind of entertainment?"
"You know, like in a gaudy house. Someone might do a strip dance. Sometimes the baron comes out and tells a few funnies, and one time he showed us a pre-dark sex vid. That was interesting."
"And you have these sorts of shows every night?" Mildred asked.
"Yes," she answered, as if Mildred had just asked a silly question.
"Why?"
"It's supposed to put everyone in the mood to rut."
"Is that what happens after?" Ryan asked.
"Yes, after the shows everyone who wants to rut pairs up, or you can go to the big room where a lot of people get together at one time."
"What if you don't want to rut?" Mildred wondered.
"If it's your time, like you said, no one will bother you. Or if you're not feeling well, you can take a room by yourself. Some people prefer that."
"So," Ryan said. "Sounds like we have an interesting night in front of us."
Mildred nodded. " Interesting is a good word for it."
"Anyway, if Purvis is going to try anything, it will probably be in the showers or during the entertainment."
"Thanks for the warning," Ryan said. "But why are you telling me this?"
Her eyes darted left and right, and she moved her head ever so slightly to see if anyone was near. "I don't like him. I don't like him at all."
"What's not to like?" Mildred quipped. "A man who beats women the way he does can't be all bad."
"No, he's dangerous. If he thinks you're a threat to his position as alpha male on the crew, he'll try and chill you any way he can."
"What about the sec men?" Ryan turned his head in the direction of the guards, who were all sitting on folding chairs that had come off the wag. They seemed unconcerned about the crew under their charge.
"They don't care about the men. It's the women who are valuable to the baron. Anyone hurts a woman, especially a breeder, they're chilled on the spot. Purvis is hard on the women in his crew, but none of us has ever stopped breeding because of it."
"What a prince," Mildred said.
"There's some worse overseeing other crews, but not many," she stated.
Just then the a sec man blew a whistle to let them know it was time to get back to picking fruit and pulling weeds.
"Just be careful, mister," she said. "He'll chill you if he has a chance."
Ryan got to his feet. "Not if I chill him first."
That put a smile on the woman's face. "I was sort of hoping that might be the case. You look like you've chilled people before. I bet you have, haven't you?"
"A few," Ryan said.
"All right," a sec man bellowed. "Stop yapping and get back to work."
Chapter Seventeen
"Stroke! Stroke! Stroke!" Sec chief Ganley cried as he kept the two boats on pace to reach their destination by dark.
While they had often spent entire days out on the water, they had never ventured so far out into the lake before. Neither had they ever paddled so hard for so long. When they reached the southern shores of the lake, they would be exhausted and would be hard-pressed to set up camp for the night. There was also a question of food. They had brought some with them, and there was plenty more they'd brought to trade, but after such a hard day, dried fish would hardly be a fitting meal. They could do with something fresh.
"Rhonda," he called, breaking the rhythm for just a moment.
A woman in his boat turned. "What?"
"Take the bow. If you spot anything in the water, spear it. We could use a decent, fresh meal tonight."
"Yes, sir!" she said with a smile.
The woman climbed up through the center of the boat and replaced the man who'd been stationed there with a blaster for most of the day.
Ganley watched her get settled, then tie one end of a rope to a ring on the blunt tip of her spear and the other end to the bow of the boat. Then she got into position, spear raised and ready to be thrown at anything that might swim by.
"Stroke! Stroke! Stroke!"
Ganley had called over four hundred strokes, and Rhonda's throwing arm hadn't wavered. Ganley had been impressed with her moves when he'd screened the volunteers, and he'd later found that there was no one better in the ville with a spear. And now he could see why. She was like a cat who would wait hours for a mouse to peek its nose out of a hole. The second it did, the cat would pounce and the mouse would never know what hit it.
"Stroke! C'mon, just a few more hours. Stroke! Rhonda will have us a supper like never before. Stroke!"
And then, as if the fish had been waiting for the proper introduction, Rhonda thrust her spear into the water.
The paddles stopped moving, and necks craned for a glimpse of the water in front of the boat.
"What is it?" Ganley asked.
"Sturgeon," Rhonda answered, pulling on the rope.
"Excellent!" Sturgeon was a large bony fish with five rows of bony plates down its back. They'd said that in predark times the fish's sucking mouth had been used to feed off the bottom, but now its wide mouth had adapted to the times and was used for scooping up dead fish floating on the top of the water. "How big?"
"Couldn't tell. Only saw one of its plates."
This far out there was no telling how big the sturgeon could get. The lake was big enough, and the supply of dead fish almost unlimited because of rad poisoning.
The crew on the boat waited as Rhonda continued to pull in the line. But before she got the fish to the boat, there were shouts and a commotion coming from the crew of the second boat How big was it? Ganley wondered. And at that moment, the sturgeon's enormous tail flipped up out of the water, rocking the second boat and throwing several of its crew into the water.
Seeing that, Rhonda began stabbing the enormous fish in the back, again and again. Blood began to spurt up from the back of the giant fish and into the boat. Several of the other crew drew their blasters. "No!" Ganley ordered.
Rhonda was leaning over the bow of the boat, moving her spear up the fish's body, and was now poised to strike its head. She reared back and plunged the spear deep into the sturgeon's brain.
The fish convulsed several times, throwing up a red froth under the other boat and hampering their efforts to pull it out of the water. Finally the giant fish was still and floating on the surface of the water. It was twenty-five-feet long, its bony ridges breaking the water like armor plates on a war wag.
"Tie off the tail!" Rhonda called to the other boat.
"We can't take it with us," Ganley said.
"I know that, but we have to eat." Rhonda tied off the snout and the giant fish was suspended between the two boats.
Rhonda secured her spear to the boat, tied a mesh bag to her waistband, then unsheathed her knife and dived in the water.
&nb
sp; Ganley watched her expertly cut more than a dozen steaks from the fish's tender underbelly and toss them into the boat. And then, she disappeared under the water for several minutes only to reappear with a smile on her face and a bag full of caviar.
Ganley couldn't believe he almost hadn't allowed the woman to come along on the trip.
"WHERE?" the Armorer asked.
"Across the bridge, on what used to be the American side," Clarissa said. "There's an old museum, the Niagara Aerospace Museum. It's in a shopping mall."
"An aerospace museum?" J.B. wasn't impressed.
"Yeah, it's got a lot of great stuff in it, like—"
"Like airplanes and helicopters."
"That's right."
"Even if those things could still get off the ground," J.B. argued, "none of us know how to fly an airplane."
"There's mostly that sort of stuff, and other things like training simulators and testing equipment, even some airplane and rocket engines."
"You mean to tell me, young lady," Doc interjected, "that in all this time no one, especially the local baron, has visited this museum and stripped away everything that might be of some value to someone trying to survive in the Deathlands?"
"The museum in the mall's been stripped clean, sure, but I know how to get to the museum's underground storage facility. That's where they kept all the spares, even moved a few of the museum's best pieces when the nukes started to fall. It's also where I stashed the wag I stole."
"What's there?" J.B. asked, suddenly more interested.
"There's an airplane that's got some pretty big blasters on it for one thing."
Jak eyed the young woman skeptically. "How you know, and not others?"
"Some of my mutie friends live under the mall, and they've made their home pretty secure."
"And why," J.B. asked, "will the muties just let us come in and take the stuff away?"
"Because I'm going to tell them what you're going to use it for, and…you're going to give them food."
"We don't have any food," Dean offered.
"No," J.B. said, "but mebbe we can get some on the way."
No one said a word for several long moments. Finally, Jak rose to his feet. "Let's go."
"I'm afraid we're going to have to put off our trip to the museum for a few hours yet," Doc pointed out. "Or at least until our guide, Sleeping Beauty, awakens to show us the way."
J.B. looked over at where Clarissa had been sitting. The young woman was now on her side, sleeping soundly after eating so much of the sedative-laden fruit.
"Mebbe it's for the best," J.B. said. "Give us a chance to recce the farm."
The Armorer got to his feet and stretched his legs. "Doc and Dean, stay here. Jak and I are going to see exactly what we're up against."
The old man nodded. Dean looked disappointed about being left behind, but nodded just the same.
"How much time before she wakes up, Doc?"
"Two hours would be my guess."
"Okay, then," J.B. said, glancing at his wrist chron. "See you in two hours."
THE WHISTLE BLEW about an hour before sunset and a series of white miniwags pulled up to where the crew was working in order to take them back to the main building for cleanup, a hot meal and the rest of the evening's activities.
Ryan joined Mildred so they could watch each other's back on the way in. He kept his eye on Purvis, too, making sure to always keep the man in front of him so there would be no surprises.
As they neared the wag, the woman who had befriended Ryan earlier in the day came up alongside Mildred. "Don't worry. He won't try anything until we get to the main building. There'll be sec men on other wags keeping an eye on everything. They like a peaceful ride in at the end of the day like the rest of us…" Her voice trailed off and she seemed to gasp for breath.
"Are you all right?" Mildred asked, putting out an arm to steady the woman.
"Tired is all," she responded with a strained smile. "I could use a warm meal and a good night's rest." Her smile turned into a grimace and she clutched her belly.
"You don't sound all right to me," Mildred stated.
"Oh!" she gasped, louder this time.
Mildred grabbed her with two hands. "What is it?" But she didn't need to hear an answer to know what was going on. There was a dark wet spot on the ground between the woman's legs, and greenish-brown water was running down the inside of her thighs.
A sec man came running. "What's wrong with her?"
Mildred eased the woman over to a tree and sat her in a squatting position to allow for the free flow of the fluid. "Her water's broke. She'll be having the baby in the next few hours."
"Why is she so dirty?"
"It's muconium staining," Mildred stated. "Her amniotic fluid is stained with a substance that's coming from the baby's digestive tract. It could be a sign that the baby is in some kind of distress."
"How do you know that?" the sec man asked, looking at Mildred strangely.
Mildred hesitated. She tried never to reveal to anyone that she was a medical doctor, since such people were worth more than blasters to barons and villes. If the baron here found out, she'd never be allowed to leave, or even be given the chance to escape. But if she denied her medical knowledge right now, this woman and her baby might both die a slow and painful death. "I know a little bit about healing," she admitted.
The sec man turned to the others. "This one's birthing. Bring another wag."
A couple of sec men took off in one of the white electric miniwags.
"They'll be back in a few minutes, to take you to the nursery." He turned to Mildred. "You're going with her."
Mildred nodded.
The woman let out another cry of pain.
Mildred placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry," she said, wondering what the woman's name was. "What's your name, sugar?"
"Jasmine."
"Don't worry, Jasmine," Mildred said. "It'll be all right."
J.B. AND JAK ARRIVED at the farm just before sundown. No crews were working the orchards at that time of day.
"Quiet," Jak said.
J.B. nodded.
The courtyard between the main building and the front gate was illuminated by several lights, turning the area from night into day. A couple of sec men on foot out by the gate and another few up in the lookout towers, which provided them with a view of the entire farm. Intermittently, lights would come on inside the orchards.
"Looking someone?" Jak asked.
"I think it's just a test," J.B. answered. "Make sure the lights work if they need them, but they probably don't need them all that much because of the fence."
The two friends moved in closer, and after just a few paces they could hear the faint hum of electricity. "Like I thought," J.B. said, nodding. "They keep the electricity on through the night to keep out the animals and muties. A couple of squirrelies inside the fence could ruin a whole crop."
"Worse for us?"
"No. The electricity shouldn't be a problem." J.B. said nothing more, but moved quickly and silently around the perimeter of the farm to the west side where he'd seen the power lines.
As he suspected, the high-tension wires that brought electricity to the farm were strung up at the top of several forty-foot poles. The wires were almost impossible to get at and would be difficult to cut. Regardless, the wires were a definite weak point in the farm's defenses and something they could take advantage of somehow.
"Problem?"
"Mebbe, mebbe not. At least now we know what we're up against."
"Have plan?"
J.B. shook his head. "Not yet, but I'll think of something once we know what kind of weapons we'll be using."
Jak nodded. "Think she tells true about weapons?"
"I sure hope so, because if she isn't, Ryan, Mildred and Krysty are going to be in there for a long time."
Chapter Eighteen
Ryan watched Mildred tend to the woman named Jasmine and knew he'd be on his own the rest of the nig
ht. He climbed onto the wag and took a seat near the back where he could keep Purvis and everyone else in front of him.
A full-figured blond woman with ample hips and even more ample breasts took the seat across the aisle from Ryan. "You rutting with anyone tonight, honey?" she asked.
"Yes, I am. Sorry."
"Aw, we could have a lot of fun together, honey." As she spoke she pressed her breasts together with her arms to create a long line of cleavage between them.
"Oh, I'm sure we could have."
"Mebbe another time, then?"
"Mebbe."
"I'll keep my motor runnin' for you."
Ryan didn't answer, but instead focused his attention on Purvis, who had just climbed onto the wag. He stared at Ryan a moment, then took a seat at the front among the sec men.
Outside, a smaller wag pulled up and Mildred and the woman got in. After a few moments they drove off, heading back to the main building at a good clip.
"Does your friend know what she's doing?" a voice asked.
Ryan turned and saw a man on the seat in front of him. "You say something?"
The man nodded. "I said, does your friend know what she's doing?"
"Who are you?"
The man looked around suspiciously. "I'm her mate. She's carrying my child."
Ryan looked closely at the man. He seemed genuinely worried about the woman bearing his child, which was probably a dangerous thing to be doing on this farm. "She's in good hands," he said. "So is the child."
"Appreciate it." A smile eased the tension in the man's face. "My name's Brody, by the way."
"Ryan." They shook hands then, Ryan's gaze locked once again on Purvis.
"He doesn't like you much."
"And I don't like him."
"You could use someone to watch your back."
"You're probably right."
"Consider it watched."
The wag started moving.
"Thanks," Ryan said.
IT WAS DARK by the time J.B. and Jak returned from their recce of the farm.
Axler, James - Deathlands 61 - Skydark Spawn Page 11