“Nothing to say, Sherlock?” Rikki said.
The fourth member of their would-be Warrior quartet had been staring out his side of the SEAL, his deerstalker cap pulled low. “Only that we are being followed.”
* * *
Eleanor did the same as everyone else. She stiffened and glanced over her shoulder out the rear but saw only the flat plain with its sparse vegetation and occasional boulders. “I don’t see anything.”
“Me either,” Crom said, “and I’ve got eyes like a hawk.”
“I’m partial to glass, myself,” Sherlock said.
“Eh?” Eleanor said. She could tell that Rikki-Tikki-Tavi was studying Sherlock in the rearview mirror.
“I don’t see anything, either,” the older Warrior said.
“There are two of them,” Sherlock said. “They’re hiding behind the large boulder approximately a hundred yards behind us, on this side of the SEAL. They broke out of the trees about half a minute after we did. I expect if you slow down, sir, and keep a close watch, one or the other will give itself away.”
Eleanor shifted in the seat and watched intently as the SEAL lost speed. The boulder in question resembled a spear-point in shape and was wide at the base. Suddenly a furry, cat-like head poked out, stared at them, and pulled back. “What was that? A mountain lion?”
“A mutation derived from Puma concolor stock, I should imagine,” Sherlock said. “When you see the whole creature, you’ll agree.”
Eleanor thought of something. “Hold on. How did you know they were back there? I didn’t see you ever look behind us.”
“Mirrors, fair lady,” Sherlock said.
“Explain,” Rikki-Tikki-Tavi said.
“Certainly, sir,” Sherlock said, and removed his deerstalker. Holding it so they all could see, he pointed at several small reflective squares attached under the cap’s rim. “These are mirrors, strategically placed so I can see anything that comes at me from any direction. With a lot of practice they have proven quite effective.”
Crom gave out a belly laugh. “Aren’t you the tricky dude.”
“Remarkable,” Kanto said.
Eleanor would never have dreamed up such a thing. “You’re quite clever, Sherlock,” she complimented him. To her amusement, his cheeks colored ever-so-slightly.
“It’s nothing, really,” Sherlock said.
Rikki-Tikki-Tavi spoke up. “You saw them and didn’t tell us?”
“I was waiting to see if they kept following,” Sherlock said. “They pose no threat, what with us in the SEAL.”
“From here on out,” Rikki said, “each and every one of you will inform me right way of anything out of the ordinary. I don’t care what it is or whether you think it’s a threat or not. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Kanto said.
“You got it,” from Crom.
“As you wish,” Eleanor said.
“If I did wrong, I apologize,” Sherlock said.
“Mistakes are how we learn,” Rikki said, increasing speed again. “And yes, we’re safe enough in the SEAL. But we’ve only come about a mile from the Home. What if those things decide to stick around? They might attack a foraging party.”
Sherlock, plainly crestfallen, said, “I didn’t consider that.”
“No harm done,” Rikki said, “because we’re going to take care of the things ourselves.”
* * *
Crom was eager to show the others what he could do. Leaning forward, he said to Rikki, “Let me out and I’ll deal with them. The rest of you can sit in here where it’s safe.”
“I don’t need protecting,” Kanto said.
“Me either,” Eleanor said.
“Never said you do,” Crom responded. “But I’m the best shot with a rifle. Stop, and I’ll put those cats down and we’ll be on our way.”
“With that .50-caliber of yours, yes, you could drop them at a distance,” Rikki said. “But the others will get out and support you. You’re to work as a team, remember? As you would if you were part of a Triad.”
“Sure,” Crom said while thinking that the day he needed backup would be the days cows learned to fly.
“Here we go, then,” Rikki said, and applied the brakes.
The SEAL had barely stopped when Crom was out the door and ran around to the rear. Throwing himself flat, he unfolded the bipod on his .50-caliber and stretched out with the stock pressed to his shoulder. He loved his rifle. According to the Family’s records, it was made by a company called Harris way back in the 1990’s, and was in perfect condition. The magazine held five rounds. He worked the bolt to feed a cartridge into the chamber and was about to put his eye to the scope when he noticed three long shadows.
Kanto, Eleanor and Sherlock were ringed behind him, Kanto with his autorifle leveled, Eleanor with her longsword in the ready position, and Sherlock leaning on his cane.
“Watch and see how it’s done, people,” Crom said. He focused his scope on the boulder Sherlock had mentioned just as two creatures came bounding around it and streaked toward them.
“Man, they’re fast,” Kanto said.
The pair were flowing side-by-side over the ground. Crom chose the one on the left and tweaked the amplification on his scope. It was if he were right in the creature’s face. The head resembled a mountain lion’s but one eye was higher than the other and it had a short snout instead of nostrils. Its body was at least ten feet from nose to tail tip, and was covered with sores and pus-oozing pustules.
“You might want to cover yours ears,” Crom said. Centering the crosshairs, he took a deep breath and held it. He lightly curled his finger to the trigger and was on the verge of squeezing when the mutates unexpectedly separated, one weaving left, the other right, almost as if they knew what he was about to do.
“Better hurry,” Eleanor said.
The things had already covered half the distance. At the speed they were moving, the creatures would reach them incredibly quick.
“Yes, you really should,” Sherlock said, pointing with his cane. “Because here come two more.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Rikki-Tikki-Tavi had stayed in the SEAL to assess how well the four worked together. Combat skills were essential to being a competent Warrior but so was being able to get along with others, with your brothers and sisters in arms. Meshing well, performing as a unit, was just as essential. He stayed in the SEAL to give the four free reign. It was a risk, he knew, and he was ready to intervene should it prove necessary.
When the creatures behind the boulder burst into view, Rikki marveled at their speed. If the trainees didn’t take swift action, the mutates would be on them in no time.
Still, Rikki stayed put. The four trainees should be able to hold their own against two mutates. No sooner did that thought cross his mind than movement in the woods to the north alerted him to two more of the creatures. Bounding into the open, the beasts sped toward the SEAL. His window was down, and he was about about to call out and warn the recruits when Sherlock spotted the new threat.
Crom hadn’t taken his eye from the big .50’s scope. “Cover me!” he shouted, and fired.
The boom of his rifle was like a cannon.
The head of one of the onrushing mutates exploded. Momentum sent the thing into an ungainly tumble and sprawl. Its mate didn’t slow, didn’t even look over. It just kept coming, its fangs bared.
Kanto and Eleanor moved to put themselves between the new pair and Crom.
Strangely, Sherlock stayed where he was.
Crom was trying to fix a bead, moving his rifle to track the second creature’s movements.
The new pair were halfway to the SEAL. Kanto leveled his AR70 and cut loose but his rounds fell short, kicking up dirt in front of them.
Eleanor, instead of resorting to her machine pistol, suddenly ran toward the creatures. Planting herself, she raised her sword on high and uttered a piercing cry.
“You’re in my way!” Kanto shouted. “I need a clear shot!”
Sher
lock still hadn’t moved.
Rikki put his hand on the latch, intending to leap out and help. He saw Crom still trying to center his sights on the other creature but the thing was moving much too fast. Crom must have realized the futility of it and jumped up, unlimbering his war axe as he rose. He uttered a loud shout of his own and tensed his arms to swing just as the mutate sprang.
At the same instant, Sherlock finally sprang into action. With a flick of his wrist, he yanked on the handle of his cane, whipping it up and out, revealing that it was actually a sword cane. He let the shaft drop even as he shifted his grip on the sword and threw the blade as if it were a spear. Flashing past Crom, the sword caught the leaping mutate in the chest, piercing deep. The next moment, Crom’s war axe crashed down on the thing’s skull.
The other two creatures were almost on Eleanor. Kanta had jerked his AR70 to his shoulder but still didn’t have a shot.
Sherlock spun, his hand darting under his tweed overcoat. Taking several quick steps to one side, he threw what appeared to be a small glass ball at the onrushing mutates. Or, rather, at the ground in front of them. There was a flash of light and a muted crump sound, and smoke spewed, filling the air.
The creatures ignored it and plunged on through, only to lurch up short and begin to hack and wheeze.
“Now, Eleanor!” Sherlock shouted.
She didn’t need the urging. Her longsword arced once, arced twice, and with each swing a severed head thudded to the earth. Green blood sprayed, spattering every which way.
Eleanor stood over their twitching bodies, looked at her longsword, and smiled.
Rikki climbed out of the SEAL.
“We did it!” Crom exclaimed. “Four of the suckers, and we kicked their butts!”
“Wrathbringer cut right through them,” Eleanor said proudly. “Did you see?”
Rikki slammed the door and put his hands on his hips. “I’ll tell you what I saw. I saw mistakes. Crom, you should have gone down on a knee instead of lying flat. You can’t move as quick when you’re on the ground. Kanto, you fired from the hip when you opened up instead of taking aim. No wonder you missed.”
“Sorry, sir,” Kanto said. “It won’t happen again.”
“I can steady my rifle better when I’m prone,” Crom said. “Isn’t that more important?”
Rikki pointed at the creature lying near Crom’s feet. “Fat lot of good it did you.”
“What about me, sir?” Eleanor said.
“Is your pistol broken?” Rikki said. “Why did you let the other two get so close when you could have brought them down sooner?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “I’ll tell you why. You wanted to use Wrathbringer. You’re so fond of that sword, you put yourself at heightened risk.” He sternly finished with, “A Warrior can prefer one weapon over another. That’s natural. We all have our favorites. But in combat, in a fight to the death, you use the weapon that will get the job done best, not your favorite all the time.”
Eleanor averted her gaze. “You’re exactly right. I apologize, and humbly beg your forgiveness.”
Sherlock hadn’t said a word. He stood patiently waiting, his hands folded.
“As for you,” Rikki said, “you did everything exactly right.”
“What?” Crom said.
“Sherlock held himself in reserve, ready to back the rest of you up,” Rikki said. “He threw his sword at just the right moment, then bought Eleanor the seconds she needed with.....” He paused. “What was that thing you used? A smoke bomb of some kind?”
“A gas bomb,” Sherlock said, “of my own making. I’ve studied every text our library has on chemical warfare and was able to concoct a solution that makes it hard to breathe. I reasoned it would slow them enough that Eleanor could dispatch them.”
“Thank you,” Eleanor said.
“Well done,” Rikki said, and clapped Sherlock’s shoulder. “Now collect your sword cane and we’ll be on our way.”
“Right away, sir.”
Crom was wiping his war axe on the body of the dead mutate. “I can’t believe you think he did better than us.”
“Is that pride talking?” Rikki said.
“I went into action first,” Crom said. “Maybe I didn’t do what you would have done but I dropped one of them and would have stopped the other without any help from Mr. Perfect.”
Rikki was disappointed. Expert shot or no, expert woodsman or no, Crom displayed an unfortunate lack of maturity. Unless he showed improvement in that regard—-unless he grew up fast—-his dream of becoming a Warrior was in jeopardy.
Rikki turned to climb back in but stopped when Sherlock said his name.
“You might want to look at this. It’s most unexpected.”
Sherlock had squatted and was bent low over the neck of the mutate with the crushed skull. Running his fingers into the loose hair, he said more to himself than to them, “How marvelously intriguing.”
Rikki went over. “What is?”
“Would you believe,” Sherlock said, moving the creature’s hair to show what he had found, “that these nightmares are wearing collars?”
“Impossible,” Rikki said, and squatted beside him. Mutates were savagery incarnate. Their sole purpose in life was to kill, kill, kill. But a thin wire encircled the severed stump. Attached under the neck was a triangular tag made of hard plastic or a similar substance.
Incredulous, Rikki plucked at the wire. He tapped the tag and mused aloud, “I wonder what this does?”
“My surmise is it’s either a tracking mechanism or a controlling device,” Sherlock said.
“No one can control mutates,” Crom said. “I’ve run into more than my share on my hunts. They’re the most fierce things out there.”
“Obviously someone controlled this one long enough to put the collar on it.” Sherlock said. Rising, he went to the nearest of the pair Eleanor had beheaded, and probed with his fingertips. “Another wire,” he said, exposing it. “Another tag.”
Rikki shook his head in bewilderment. “Who would do such a thing?” he marveled. “Who could do such a thing?”
“Whoever it is,” Sherlock said, “possesses considerable technological expertise.”
“Just our luck we came across them,” Kanto said.
“Or was it?” Crom said. “How do we know whoever was controlling those things didn’t sic them on us?”
Rikki gave a mild start. The idea hadn’t occurred to him. Maybe, just maybe, whoever controlled the creatures had been spying on the Home, seen the SEAL depart, and sent the pack after it. “Good thinking, Crom.”
“Nice to know I can do something right,” Crom said.
Sherlock was examining the last of the mutates. “Yet another collar,” he said. “I agree with you, Crom. Your assessment is more than plausible. We all saw how fast these things were. Were I to hazard a surmise, I would say they are a genetic mix between a mountain lion and an African cheetah. Which is absurd, I realize. But not if they were genetically engineered. And certainly no more bizarre than the collars they’re wearing. Yes, Crom, a most perceptive insight.”
“Well, thanks, dude,” Crom said.
Rikki saw that Crom was greatly pleased. Secretly, he wondered if Sherlock had done it on purpose.
“We’re off to a strange start,” Eleanor said.
Sherlock slid a hand into an inner pocket of his tweed coat and produced needle-nose pliers. “I would like to take one of these collars with us so I can examine it in the laboratory when we return. Is that all right, sir?”
“Go for it,” Rikki said. He appreciated being asked. The more he saw of Sherlock, the higher his estimation rose.
Presently, they were underway.
Rikki studied them as he drove. Kanto seemed to be brooding. Crom had taken a cloth from a hip pouch and was wiping down his .50-cal. Eleanor was using a whetstone on her longsword. Sherlock, after reaching into another inner pocket, was examining the collar with a magnifying glass.
Rikki was pleased their fir
st clash had gone so well. Their mistakes aside, they had slain the mutates. He’d been hard on them for their own good, and would continue to ride roughshod to keep them on their toes.
Soon the plain came to an end. Dense forest spread ahead, a mix of evergreens and deciduous trees, not all of which were in existence before the Big Blast. Radiation and other toxins had transformed the plant world as well as the animal kingdom.
Rikki had been through these woods before. The Warriors used this route whenever they traveled south in the SEAL. A residue of broken limbs and crushed plants showed where the vehicle had plowed its previous course. On the lookout for obstacles like fallen trees and for wild beasts and other mutations, Rikki came to a clearing he remembered. Glancing right and left, he started across.
“Look out!” Eleanor yelled.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Rikki-Tikki-Tavi tromped on the brakes. He half-expected another mutate or some other abomination. Instead, a familiar gleaming form was hovering directly in their path.
“A.l.v.i.s?” Kanto blurted.
“We almost hit it,” Eleanor said.
“What’s that robot doing here?” Crom said.
“Technically, A.l.v.i.s is a synthezoid, not a robot, per se” Sherlock said.
“Technically,” Crom said, “Ask me if I care.”
“There is a considerable difference.”
“All that counts is that it’s not human.”
Rikki shifted the SEAL into Park.
A.l.v.i.s continued to hover, its red eyes glowing bright. Lower down on its bullet-shaped housing, its tiny lights blinked.
“Stay put,” Rikki said. Opening his door, he slid out. Instinctively, his hand went to the hilt of his katana. Like Crom, he was never entirely at ease around artificial lifeforms. In the many weeks A.l.v.i.s had been at the Home, he’d only talked to it on a few occasions. “A.l.v.i.s?” he said as he came around the front of the SEAL.
“Affirmative, sir,” A.l.v.i.s chirped. “Forgive my abrupt appearance. It was imperative I reach you before you had gone too far.”
Synthezoids Endworld 30 Page 7