by James Axler
“I was inside,” she stated.
J.B. looked at her skeptically.
“About a year ago my family was part of a wag convoy heading east to a new ville my uncle was starting up in Roads Island. But when we came through here, Baron Fox’s men captured my family and brought us all to the farm. My mom didn’t last long. She put up a bit of a fight, but since she was old and couldn’t get heavy anymore, she was sent to the sec men’s lounge for the stupe bastard’s entertainment. She didn’t last long there, and died just a few weeks after we were captured.”
Clarissa paused to let out a sigh and take another bite of her apple.
“My dad was an older man and found the orchards hard work. When he learned about what had happened to my mother, he went mad and attacked a group of sec men with a stick. They chilled him before he could strike a single blow. After that, I knew I couldn’t stay on the farm, so I tried to escape. It took me three tries, but I finally did it by dressing up in a sec man’s uniform, stealing a wag and driving it through the front gate. I’ve been living on the outside for about eight months now.”
“Why stay here?” Jak asked. “Not go away?”
Clarissa looked sad. “My sister’s still inside. She resisted the baron a lot more than I did, and she ended up in the dungeon. She was heavy when I got out, and she might be ready to birth in a few weeks. After I escaped, I wanted to leave, to get as far away as I could, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Knowing I’m on the outside waiting for her is probably the only thing that’s keeping her alive in there.”
“Try save her?”
Clarissa shook her head. “No, what could I do by myself?”
“What about the muties?” Doc asked.
“They wouldn’t be much help in an attack. Throwing rocks and tearing things apart with their teeth is about all they’re good for. If I could get them inside the complex, they might do some damage, but I can’t get them past the fence.”
“That’s not what I meant,” J.B. said. “They let you live with them without them hurting you?”
“Yes.”
“And even now, they aren’t attacking us.”
“That’s because I don’t want them to. You see, I feed them whatever I can spare.” She threw the cores of her apples and pears off into the bushes. “They consider me a sort of savior.” She threw back her head and ran her fingers through her dirty blond hair. “There isn’t anything they wouldn’t do for me.”
“Do you think if you told them to attack the farm, they’d do it for you?” J.B. asked.
“Attack the farm?”
“We’re not leaving our friends inside,” J.B. stated.
“But that would be crazy. There’s only four of you, and that place is like a fortress.”
“That, my dear girl,” Doc piped up, “is why we can use all the help we can get. Mutie or otherwise.”
“You could help us, too.” J.B. leaned in closer to her. “You know your way around the farm and could lead us to where we want to go.”
Clarissa said nothing but looked to each of the friends in turn.
“We could get your sister out along with our friends,” J.B. suggested.
“You four are serious, aren’t you?”
“I have been a part of this group a long time, young lady,” Doc announced, “and I can assure you beyond a shadow of a doubt that we take such matters very seriously.”
“Okay, but even if I help you and convince the muties to come along for the ride, you’re still going to need more weapons to break in to the place, and to break out.”
“Some heavier blasters would be nice,” J.B. said.
“A few grens would be useful in causing diversions too,” Doc mused.
“More ammo,” Jak said.
“And a wag,” Dean added.
“Yes, and a wag,” J.B. echoed.
“If you had some of those things, you really think you could free my sister and your friends.”
“Other slaves, too,” Jak muttered.
“Okay.” She nodded, as if she’d just taken a step from which there was no turning back. “I know a place where we can find some of the things you need.”
Chapter Sixteen
The crew broke for lunch, which was served in the orchard off the back of a rebuilt electric wag that had burners and coolers and all sorts of things to help prepare food and keep it hot or cold as required. Ryan was given the choice of vegetable soup or some sort of meat stew. He decided on the soup, since he knew that the vegetables were grown on the farm but he couldn’t be sure where the meat for the stew had come from.
The man in the greasy clothes behind the food counter spooned out the soup into Ryan’s oversize mug, then put a large bread roll on the tray beside it. Farther along, an overripe tomato was put on his tray and finally an empty glass, which could be filled up with water from one of the spouts that extended off the end of the wag.
Ryan filled the glass, drank and then filled it a second time. He turned to find Mildred. She was sitting in the shade under one of the peach trees, eating the stew. Ryan joined her.
“How’s the food?” he asked.
“Had better. Had worse,” she answered.
“How’s your back?” Ryan leaned backward to ease the pain in his lower back. He was in terrific physical shape, and his muscles were as taut as iron bands, but nothing could have prepared him for hours of being hunched over and looking for weeds. He’d get used to the work eventually, but he wasn’t planning on being there long enough for that.
“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 predark 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.
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.