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Chains of Freedom

Page 7

by Selina Rosen


  "Why fight for the Reliance?" David asked. "Why not put down your weapon and join us?"

  The man rolled quickly into a sitting position. He looked at David. David had no weapon, but he did."Die, Rebel." He jumped up and ran at David.

  David wasn't ready. He managed to grab the hand that held the knife and keep himself from being stabbed, but he wound up on the ground with the soldier on top of him.

  The soldier smiled. He smelled blood—David's.

  They wrestled with the knife, but David realized that the man was much stronger than he was, and better trained. In a minute his strength would give out, and the man would stab him. David knew he wasn't going to get out of this through strength or skill. That left only one thing.

  "RJ! RJ!" he screamed, looking at an imaginary personage."Go ahead! Shoot him!"

  The man's head swung around to look and his grip slackened just for a second.

  A second was all David needed. He forced the knife back into its owner, and blood poured from the wound like water from a faucet. Quite by accident, David had managed to sever the man's external carotid artery.

  The soldier looked at David, a look of sheer terror on his face. He knew he was dying, and it was because he had fallen for one of the oldest tricks in the book. His limp, lifeless body pitched forward, landing on David like a bag of wet sand.

  David had to work at getting out from under the body. When he did, he couldn't hold what little lunch he'd eaten. He couldn't believe what he'd done. True, he had cut Cobal's dead hand free of the manacle, and he had shot the GSH with a rocket launcher sending him flying through the wall, but nothing had prepared him for this. Nothing could have. The man had looked at him as he died. David had seen his life drain from him. He was covered in the man's blood. It smelled sickeningly sweet; he'd never forget that smell. He watched where the blood pooled up in the dust at his feet as it dripped off his clothes, and then he threw up some more.

  He had hunted this man down, and he had killed him. Nothing could be the same now. The man had run, and he had chased him down and killed him. Why? Because RJ had told him to, that was why.

  RJ! RJ was still trapped under the chunk of car.

  He raced back as fast as he could, sighing with relief when he saw RJ sitting on a rock, rubbing her ribs, a pained expression on her face. He ran up to her.

  "How did you get out?" he asked.

  "Did you get him?" she asked, not looking up. If she had, the answer would have been obvious.

  "Yes," David said hotly.

  "Good," RJ replied.

  "Good," David repeated, sounding sick. "A man is dead." He looked around him in disgust. "A lot of men are dead."

  RJ's answer was to get up and limp over to the truck.

  "Don't you feel anything?"

  "Hungry." RJ sighed as she turned to face him. "We are fighting a war, David. It's us against the Reliance. This was partly your idea, if I remember correctly. These men fought for the Reliance. That made them our enemies. You can't win a war unless you kill the enemy. That's just one of the rules of this game."

  Logical. David gave her an angry look. How could she be so damned cool about the whole thing? People were dead, and the hard, cold fact was that his companion didn't give a damn as long as she got what she wanted. Sure, RJ had killed a lot of people, but that didn't excuse her complete detachment from the whole thing. David knew that no matter how many men he killed, he would never get used to it.

  RJ opened the doors to the truck, then smiled. She was apparently very pleased. "A shipment of the new Z-27 Laser sidearms."

  She looked at David. "So, now what do you say, David?"

  "I don't know if it was worth it," he said, looking at his blood-covered feet and the carnage all around them.

  RJ snorted angrily. "OK, Mr. Conscience. Why don't you jump on your high horse, ride up to the top of the cliff and get our equipment and the truck. I'm sure your conscience wouldn't allow you to dig through the pockets of these dead men and take all their units."

  David nodded and left gladly. RJ placed some charges at the bottom of the rubble pile, got behind the truck and detonated. She was good at this. A path was cleared wide enough to get their truck through.

  "God damn it, RJ! Tell me when you're going to do that!" David screamed from atop the cliff. "I might have been in the blast area for all you know."

  "Oh, bitch, bitch, bitch," RJ grinned. She went about the tasks of picking pockets, making sure the dead bodies stayed dead, and picking up the soldiers' fallen weapons. She had just finished when David arrived with the truck.

  "You sure you can load these crates?" David asked indicating her leg.

  "I'll have to, won't I?"

  "I could do it myself," David offered.

  "It would take too long. I'll be fine. When the convoy doesn't call in, the Reliance will send a reconnaissance team, and they'll no doubt be Elite. May even have a GSH with them."

  David had never worked so fast in his life. The truck bulged with its load. They covered it with a tarp.

  "Maybe we shouldn't take all of them."

  "Ah, you worry too much," RJ took a can of spray paint and started to paint her name on the roadway.

  "Do we have time for that?" David sounded worried and more than a little irritated.

  "Always," she said with a smile. Finished, she threw the spent can down, got in the truck and they sped off.

  "I still say we shouldn't have taken them all. It looks like we're carrying something we shouldn't be," David said.

  "Our first drop is close. We'll leave the top layer there. That should make us less conspicuous and get some weight off the axle." RJ obviously wasn't worried. She started to hum.

  David gave her a hard look, and she grinned.

  "OK, OK, I'll stop."

  "RJ, just how did you get free?" David asked curiously.

  "One of the alcohol tanks on one of the vehicles exploded. By a stroke of luck, the explosion pushed up the piece I was trapped under just enough so that I could get free." It was so absurd that he bought it without further question.

  RJ took a coin from her pocket and bent it over yet another link of chain. Coins on her chain, like trophies on a shelf.

  David shook his head and looked at the blood on his clothes.

  The Z-27 Laser sidearm was smaller and, unlike the bulky plasma blasters, had no kick. It was deadly accurate, and RJ was very pleased to have them to add to her hidden arsenals.

  David was surprised and impressed by the piles of supplies RJ had scattered across the countryside. In old mine shafts, under the floorboards of abandoned buildings and in holes in the ground covered with plastic tarps and tree limbs. Apparently she had planned to do more than raid supply trains long before she met him.

  By the time they returned to Alsterase, they had hidden all but one crate of the weapons.

  They struggled up the stairs with the crate.

  "I still say you're nuts," David whispered. "If we get caught with this crate of lasers . . ."

  "We're not going to get caught," RJ said as they struggled around a corner.

  "We're carting them around in broad daylight. Anyone could see us," David whispered back urgently.

  "How will anyone know what's in this box?"

  "Oh, I don't know, RJ," David said sarcastically, "but they might read the side of the box right here where it says 'Reliance Arsenal, Z-27 Laser sidearms'."

  "No one pays attention to what's written on a box," RJ said, shrugging it off. Just then, they met the manager. His immense bulk made it all but impossible to get up the narrow stairway.

  "Oh, how lucky for us! You're back!" he said flippantly."You'll be happy to know your room's just like you left it, no door, gaping hole in the wall, etc. So, what's in the box?"

  "Just what it says, Z-27 Laser sidearms," RJ answered.

  David squirmed. If he could have reached her then, he would have punched her in the mouth.

  "Yeah, sure, everybody's a wise guy." The manager g
ave her a patronizing laugh. "I'm telling you right now, if that's a dead body . . ."

  "What if it is?" RJ said, poking him in his fat stomach with a finger of her free hand.

  "I'm not cleaning it up," the fat man said heavily.

  "Our room is well enough ventilated that it shouldn't bother anyone."

  Turning to David, RJ continued in the same sarcastic tone, "Come on, honey, let's take Irving home." They continued their trek up the stairs.

  The manager shrugged and started back down.

  "Do you delight in making me squirm?" David spat.

  "Well, you are kind of cute when you do it," RJ answered with a smile.

  Finally, they reached their room and gratefully set the crate down. They looked around. As promised, their room was just as they had left it. Gaping hole in the wall, everything totaled, door gone. What David couldn't believe was that the bike was there, and seemed to be in one piece. He supposed they had gotten their bluff in. David ran and threw himself on the broken bed.

  "Guess there really is no place like home."

  Chapter Four

  They took the bathroom door and hung it in the front doorway. It was about five inches short, but beggars couldn't be choosers. Of course, this meant they had no bathroom door.

  RJ had just taken a shower and now she was drying off. David found himself watching her. Just for a second, he got an uninvited picture of those long legs wrapped around him, those breasts pressed tightly against his chest. He shook the thought from his mind, and made a conscious effort not to watch her.

  It had been an incredibly long time since he'd had a woman. Too damn long if he was looking at RJ. A woman should be soft, sweet, and gentle. Someone to be protected. Any woman who would break a man's neck with her bare hands and then eat a sandwich was not the girl for David.

  RJ started to dress. First she pulled on straight-legged black pants, then a white tank top. She pulled on her boots, strapped on her blaster, and then started wrapping the chain around herself. This time, she just wrapped it around her waist. David preferred this to the way she had been wearing it. She threw on her jacket.

  "Sure you won't change your mind and come with me?" she asked.

  "No, I think not." David rubbed his head. He still remembered catching the beer bottle with his skull and remembered stopping alongside the road so RJ could pull the stitches out.

  "I'll stay here and guard the lasers. Bring me something to eat."

  "OK, but I can't promise I'll be right back." RJ started for the door.

  "Why not?" David wanted to know.

  "Don't wait up." She grinned and went out the door.

  First she took the truck back to the exact spot where she had "requisitioned" it. Then she walked back the five blocks to the Golden Arches. It was just twilight, and the air was cool and filled with the smell of food being prepared. The smell from one restaurant was particularly sweet, and RJ decided to come back there to eat and get David's dinner.

  Whitey Baldor sat at a table with a brunette in his lap. He'd just eaten dinner, had a few drinks, and was planning to take this girl and do what he wanted with her. He couldn't have been happier. He didn't even notice the hush that fell across the bar till some jackass had the utter gall to sit at his table and flop his boots right next to Whitey's drink. He quit kissing the girl and looked up to see who had dared to interrupt his space.

  "You!" he said in disbelief.

  "Me," RJ smiled broadly.

  "Get up," Whitey ordered the girl in his lap.

  "But, Whitey . . ." she started to protest. Whitey dumped her on the floor.

  "What do you want?" Whitey growled at RJ.

  "Want?" RJ repeated innocently. She watched the dark-headed girl walk away in a snit. "I don't want anything. I've brought your truck back with a full tank of alcohol." RJ found the barrel of Whitey Baldor's gun pushed firmly against her head. "It pulls a little to the left, and it's not very good on fuel, but nothing that couldn't be repaired with a few minor adjustments."

  "I could blow your brains out right here Lady, crowd or no crowd. You're in Alsterase now. No one gives a shit. I could . . ." He cut his speech short. Something very cold, hard and sinister was nestled against his balls. He looked at RJ, who just smiled.

  "You might blow my brains out, Mr. Baldor, but not before your balls bounce off the far wall," she said, still smiling. She moved the pistol against him. "I don't see any reason that we can't talk civilly."

  "You got this thing about my nuts, don't you, lady?" Whitey withdrew his pistol, wiping the sweat from his brow as she took her weapon away from his privates.

  "Could I get a beer!" she yelled. She was quickly brought one. The usual bar noise started up again. The moment of tension was over. She sipped at the beer.

  "What do you want from me?" Whitey asked again with venom.

  "I think it's fair to say that we got off on the wrong foot," RJ said.

  "Your foot, my balls," Whitey said harshly.

  "Knee," RJ corrected with a smile.

  "Your brains for my nuts is looking better and better," Whitey hissed. "You made me look like a fool in front of the whole bar."

  "You did start it," RJ reminded him gently.

  "You stole my truck," Whitey continued.

  "I borrowed your truck. For which I am willing to pay you," she said with a crooked grin. Now she had Whitey's full attention. "Is there somewhere we could go?"

  Whitey was game. The owner, a personal friend (well, maybe not a personal friend, but someone who believed that Whitey could shove him into a beer bottle, butt first) had an apartment in the back of the bar. Whitey wasted no time in dragging RJ—under the watchful eyes of all the patrons of the Golden Arches—into the back room and shutting and locking the door.

  "OK, baby," he took off his shoes and flopped down on the bed."I'm ready to be paid."

  "Fine." RJ reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a laser pistol. She tossed the pistol onto the bed beside him.

  "What's this shit?" He picked up the weapon. He wanted the woman, not a damned laser. Then he noticed the design. He stood up. "This is the new laser Z-2-11!"

  "Z-27," RJ corrected.

  "Where did you get it?" Whitey asked.

  "I stole it—God! Men ask stupid questions."

  "It's very nice, but not exactly what I had in mind," he smiled."Let's call this laser the first installment." He reached out and touched the side of her face. It felt good, but she pulled away before he could get any further.

  "Let's call it payment in full," she stated firmly.

  "Does it have any trade-in value?" he asked hopefully.

  RJ laughed."Think of it this way. Sex lasts only a few minutes, but a good laser side arm is forever."

  "You only say that because you haven't been with me," he bragged. He knew from the look on her face that he wasn't going to talk her into anything. He didn't understand any of this. "Why?" He held up the laser. "I mean, you had already gotten away with it."

  "My friend and I have decided to take on the Reliance. Having done this, the last thing we need are more enemies."

  "You know, we could do wonderful things for each other," he said with a sigh.

  RJ laughed. "I'd better go."

  "No! Wait a minute," he jumped in front of the door. "If you walk out now, they'll know we didn't do it. I have a reputation to protect."

  RJ smiled.

  "If you could maybe make a little noise?"

  She grinned and nodded.

  "Thanks."

  She groaned. "Like that?"

  "A little louder. I don't think they can hear you." He went over and started bouncing on the bed. "So, tell me more about this suicide rebellion of yours."

  "Are you interested?" she asked.

  "It depends on what the membership package includes," he said with a smile.

  She groaned again.

  "Oh, that's much better; that does credit to our race."

 

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