by James Axler
“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 night. 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.
“Just in time,” Doc greeted them. “Our sleeper has just recently awakened.”
Clarissa stretched her arms and legs. A few yards away, the muties were also rising from their fruit-induced sleep. “What happened? One minute I was talking to you, and then the next I was fast asleep.”
“The fruit,” Doc explained, “which came courtesy of Fox Farm, seems to have been laced with some sort of sedative.”
“And you gave it to me to eat, knowing that?”
“You were hungry,” J.B. stated. “It wasn’t lethal, and we didn’t have anything else to give you…or your friends, to eat. Besides, it was either that or chill you.”
She looked at the Armorer for a long time, probably wondering if he was kidding or serious. “I believe you would have, too,” she said at last.
J.B. remained silent.
“This museum you spoke of,” Doc said. “Is it close enough to travel to in the dark, or should we find some other accommodation for the night?”
“Not a good idea to be out at night.”
“Know safe place?” Jak asked.
“Sure.”
“Okay, we’ll rest up tonight, and tomorrow we’ll hit the museum.”
J.B. turned to Clarissa. “Lead the way.”
MILDRED WAS LED into a well-lit and very clean room in the basement of the main building. A row of beds stood against each wall, ten to a row, twenty beds in all. All but four of the beds were empty.
Sitting at one end of the room at a desk was an old woman who had to be in her sixties. She was gray haired, hunched over and the knuckles of her hands were gnarled with arthritis.
“Two at once,” the old woman said when Mildred brought Jasmine into the nursery.
“No,” Mildred said. “I’m just here to help her.”
“You a midwif
e?”
“No, not exactly.”
“Healer?”
“Sort of.”
“Oh well, welcome, then. I could use the help. What’s her story?”
“Her water’s broke and she’s had some muconium staining.”
“Is that like dark water?”
“Yes.”
“She may be overdue, then.”
“That’s right.” Mildred had wondered if the old woman would be in the way, but it was obvious that she’d delivered plenty of babies in her time and knew what she was doing.
“Here, honey,” the old woman said, taking Jasmine’s hands and placing them on her nipples. “Touch them, twist them and pull on them for the next little while.”
“What will that do?” Jasmine asked.
Mildred wondered about that, too, but then remembered that nipple stimulation released the hormone oxytocin, which caused the uterus to contract. But how did you go about explaining that to a woman born and raised in the Deathlands?
“It will help make the baby come out,” Mildred said, deciding the simplest explanation was best.
The old woman nodded her approval, then turned to Mildred. “Now, help me get ready.”
Mildred smiled. There’d been so much chilling in her life recently, it would be wonderful to help bring some new life into the Deathlands.
“My pleasure,” Mildred said, rolling up her sleeves.
“DINNER’S SERVED in twenty,” the sec man shouted as the crew exited the wag. “Show starts in an hour.”
“The showers are this way,” Brody stated.
“What if I don’t want a shower?” Ryan asked.
Brody shook his head. “Everyone’s got to go through. The baron likes his people to be clean when they rut. Protection against disease, healthy offspring and all that. Besides, the water’s hot, and it’ll make you feel good after a day working in the orchard.”
Ryan entered the large room where both men and women were getting undressed. About half of the women were noticeably heavy, and all the men looked fit and healthy.
Brody gave Ryan a plastic crate with the name of a predark dairy imprinted on the side. “Put your clothes in the crate. You can get them washed if you want, or you can put them on again after your shower. Up to you.”
Although his clothes could probably do with a wash, he decided he’d put them on again. If they went into the wash, there was no telling when or if he’d get back the same clothes.
Ryan stepped into the shower. Brody stood off to the side, keeping an eye out for Purvis while Ryan washed up. The one-eyed man was grateful for the chance to wash the blood, dust and grime from his body. He put his head under the water, which was both fresh and warm thanks to the farm’s unlimited supply of water and electricity, and let it flow over him like a river.
As he soaped up and rinsed for the last time, Ryan caught sight of Purvis at the exit to the showers. He decided to ignore him for the time being, knowing that the man wouldn’t do anything while so many slaves were still in the showers with them.
But with Purvis standing there and looking for a fight, the others rinsed off quickly and left, leaving Ryan and Brody alone with him.
Purvis was as tall and as muscular as one might expect from the dominant male of a work crew. He also looked as if he’d been in a few fights during his time on the farm. Several of his teeth were missing, his nose was caved in and there was a bite-sized chunk of flesh missing from the outside of his right thigh.
“Your time has come, One-eye,” Purvis said, taking a couple of steps into the shower.
“He doesn’t want any trouble, Purvis,” Brody argued. “He doesn’t know how things work on the farm, that’s all.”
Ryan decided to say nothing for the moment, giving Purvis the chance to back out of this without getting hurt.
“You got that right, Brody. He don’t know shit about what he’s got himself into.”
“He made a mistake is all,” Brody reasoned. “He was thinking like an outlander, not like a slave. Forget it this time, and it won’t happen again.”
There was a slight grin on Purvis’s face. He was obviously enjoying hearing Brody talk.
But Ryan didn’t like it at all.
“No, it will happen again,” Ryan said. “It will happen every time you beat on a woman, Purvis, or anybody else who’s done you no wrong.”
“You’re all talk.” Purvis took a few steps closer.
“I’ve been called a lot of things,” Ryan said, “but never that.”
The big man hesitated. He gestured to Brody. “I don’t like the odds.”
Ryan nodded. “Get out of here, Brody!”
“But—”
“Get out!”
Brody left without another word.
“Pack your bags, One-eye,” Purvis said. “You’re about to board the last train west.”
Ryan said nothing, too busy assessing the situation to waste time on more talk. The water was still running in the showers. It helped drown out their voices so the sec men couldn’t hear them, but it also made the floor of the shower very slippery. Purvis was a head taller than Ryan and probably outweighed him by fifty pounds. So if Ryan was to have any chance against the bigger man, he’d have to move fast, strike first and strike hard.
“C’mon, One-eye, I’m waiting.”
Ryan crouched, pushed off from the wall and slid across the smooth tiles of the shower floor. He struck Purvis’s legs while still moving at a good clip, and the big man toppled, landing hard on his shoulder.
Before the man had time to recover, Ryan was on his feet again. He kicked out with his right foot, catching the side of Purvis’s head with his heel. The blow seemed to have little effect on the downed man because he managed to get to his feet as if he’d received little more than a tap on the shoulder.
“You’re fast,” he said. “I’ll give you that.”
Ryan decided if it worked once, it might be worth trying again. He knelt, got onto his hands and swung his feet out in a wide arc, taking Purvis’s feet out from under him again. This time the big man fell backward, landing hard on his back and striking his head on the hard, wet floor.
Purvis seemed to be in pain so Ryan moved in to take advantage. But when he got close, Purvis reached out and grabbed the one-eyed man’s feet, pulling him off the floor. Ryan managed to break his fall with his hands, but still landed heavily on the tiles, smacking the right side of his face hard enough to see bright sparks of pain flashing behind his eye.
After his heavy falls, the big man was slowly getting stronger, and Ryan knew that if he managed to get close, it was possible that he would be smothered in his grip.
A crowd of slaves had gathered at the entrance to the shower, but there were still no sec men in sight, which meant that only one of them would be walking out of the showers alive.
Ryan backed away from Purvis until his back touched one of the shower room’s tiled walls.
“You can’t run from me, One-eye.” Purvis grinned, taking the move as a sign of weakness.
But in truth, Ryan was merely putting as much space between himself and the big man as he could. A second later he was off running, leaping through the air and throwing his shoulder and all of his body weight into Purvis’s chest.
There was a large whoosh as Ryan knocked the air out of the man’s lungs, and then a hard smack as Purvis fell backward with Ryan on top of him.
Purvis gulped for air.
Ryan took hold of the man’s head and kept slamming it onto the hard tile floor until the back of his skull was crushed. Blood leaked onto the shower floor.
He let go of the big man’s ruined head and looked over to the shower entrance. The slaves were gone and in their place were two sec men. They didn’t look all that surprised to see a dead man lying on the shower floor. If Purvis was anything special, you sure couldn’t tell from the sec men’s expressions.
“What happened to him?” one of the sec men asked.
“Slipped on some s
oap,” Ryan answered.
“Second one this month,” the other sec man commented.
Chapter Nineteen
“Are we there yet?” Dean asked. The sun had set, and the boy was feeling tired.
“Almost,” Clarissa answered as she led them up-river to some unknown destination.
“Patience, my dear boy,” Doc said. “If the woman leads us to a safe place in which to spend the night, the peaceful rest we will receive will be more than worth the walk.”
“There it is,” she said, pointing off into the distance. “Just behind that rise.”
The companions continued on, followed tirelessly by a group of muties, like seagulls trailing behind a ship hoping to catch something churned up by the ship’s wake.
When they reached the rise, J.B. stopped abruptly and grabbed Clarissa by the arm. “There’s nothing here,” he said, taking another look around. “If you double-cross us, it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”
“No double cross. You wanted someplace safe, so I’m bringing you to my home, or at least the place I’ve been living these past few months.”
“But there’s nothing here.”
“Nothing on the surface, but there’s plenty underground. Follow me.”
Again the friends placed their trust in their female guide. When they reached the bottom of the rise, they came upon a concrete kiosk in the middle of the field.
“This looks like the place where we arrived,” Dean whispered to Jak.
“Same, but different.”
There was a door on one side of the kiosk. Clarissa opened it and gestured to the four friends. “After you, boys.”
“What’s this?” J.B. asked.
“An entrance to a water tunnel.”
“That leads where?”
“To one of the power plants downriver,” Clarissa answered. “I can’t be sure which one, since most of them aren’t operating anymore and to find out I’d have to walk some five miles in the dark. I figured it’s not that important.”
J.B. followed the other three friends inside. “What about the muties?”
“They’re content to wait for me outside at the entrance until I reappear in the morning.”
“I must say that is an excellent security measure,” Doc said.