The baron was circling the sec chief now, like an animal going in for the kill. "Say that last part again."

 

 Grundwold cleared his throat. "In the confusion, the outlander got away."

 

 "You let him get away."

 

 Grundwold said nothing.

 

 "You let him get away," the baron repeated.

 

 "Yes," Grundwold said, his shoulders slumping with the words.

 

 "So now an already dangerous man has even more reason to rally the slaves against us. He's already their hero, but now he's a symbol of their own imprisonment."

 

 Again Grundwold said nothing.

 

 "Isn't that right?" The baron pressed home the point.

 

 "He won't get away."

 

 "Isn't that right?" the baron repeated, not letting the sec chief steer the conversation away from the subject of his own failing.

 

 Grundwold lowered his head. "That's correct, Baron."

 

 "If you were in my position, what would you do with such gross incompetence?"

 

 Grundwold knew exactly what he'd do to a sec man who screwed up. He would demote him several ranks and give him the most menial job until he was aching to prove his worth again. But of course, that wasn't even close to the way the baron would handle such things. As a result, Grundwold said nothing, knowing it was a question he couldn't possibly answer correctly.

 

 "You can be sure I wouldn't send you to clean toilets," the baron said. "That might be your style, but it's not mine. You see, I happen to need a sec chief at the moment, more than I've ever needed one before. But I need a competent one."

 

 "Yes, Baron."

 

 "I believe you are a competent sec chief, Grundwold, so I'm going to give you another chance to find the one-eyed outlander."

 

 "Thank you, Baron."

 

 "But not before I impose a suitable punishment."

 

 Grundwold closed his eyes, knowing that suitable punishment from the baron could be anything from a slap on the wrist to the removal of a limb.

 

 "On your knees, Grundwold," the baron ordered. Then he turned to Norman Bauer. "My special crop, please, Number One."

 

 Norman Bauer, who had been standing by impassively, went to a cupboard high up on one of the walls in the office and took out the baron's "special crop." It was an electric cattle prod, thicker than his usual leather crop, and was fitted with rechargeable batteries. It could administer a powerful and painful electric shock with a single touch.

 

 Baron Fox circled the kneeling Grundwold, then touched the prod to his shoulder.

 

 Grundwold's body jumped as the room was suddenly bathed in the warm glow of electric blue. He groaned in pain as he tried to remain upright on his knees.

 

 "Repeat after me… 'Iwill catch the outlander.' "

 

 " 'I will catch the outlander,' " Grundwold grunted.

 

 Baron Fox touched the prod to Grundwold's hip.

 

 Grundwold's torso jerked sideways as all the muscles on his right side contracted.

 

 Then, as Grundwold lay on the ground struggling to catch his breath, the baron touched the prod to his thigh and watched the sec chiefs leg twitch and convulse with electricity.

 

 The sec chief screamed in pain.

 

 The office smelled of ozone and burning flesh.

 

 "Say it again," the baron said. "Louder this time, and with conviction."

 

 Grundwold's words were lost in a scream.

 

 The main building was quiet, except for someone screaming in pain in a distant part of the building. At this time of day there would be people and sec men walking the halls outside her room, and there would be sounds of the workday beginning outside.

 

 But there was none of that this morning.

 

 Krysty opened the door and found that there wasn't a sec man in the hallway. The building seemed abandoned, and she sensed it had something to do with Ryan. He was somehow in mortal danger, but was at least safe for the moment.

 

 She stepped into the hallway, closed the door to her room and set out to find Mildred. If something was going terribly wrong, they'd have a better chance of surviving if they were together.

 

 WHEN CLARISSA REACHED the entrance to the part of the hydro-electric tunnel she called home, there were still several muties waiting outside. They seemed happy to see her, and even happier still when she opened up a bag of leftover fish and uneaten scraps for them.

 

 "Gather the tribe," she told them as they ate.

 

 "Series?" one of the muties asked.

 

 He'd meant to say "serious," but it had come out wrong. Of course it was serious, but what was the best way to explain it to the triple-stupe brain-damaged muties so they would understand. "Yes," she said in the end. "Triple-big serious."

 

 The muties seemed to respond well to her words, but she decided they needed to be even more excited about what was going to happen.

 

 "Tonight. All you can eat."

 

 That did the trick.

 

 The muties cleaned up the fish scraps, then scrambled away to gather the tribe.

 

 "I DON'T SEE ANYBODY out working the orchards," Dean said as he crouched amid a tumble of weeds. "All I see is sec men walking up and down the rows between the trees like they're looking for something."

 

 "Someone," Jak said.

 

 Dean looked at Jak. "You think someone escaped?"

 

 Jak nodded. "Ryan."

 

 "But if no one's out working, how will we get a message to my dad, Krysty or Mildred?"

 

 "Don't know. Mebbe give signal."

 

 "What kind of signal."

 

 The albino shook his head. "Don't know yet."

 

 SEC CHIEF GANLEY brought the raiders to a rest atop a rise north of the ruins of the city that had been labeled Clifton Hill. From here they were able to see the waterfalls, what had once been Niagara Falls and, more importantly, the thriving farm complex. Behind the perimeter of a wire mesh fence was the wealth of breeding men and women that Reichel ville desperately needed to survive.

 

 "Is that the place?" someone behind the sec chief asked wearily. They had been carrying fish to offer in trade for hours over the rough terrain, and many were close to the point of exhaustion.

 

 "Yes, it is," Ganley answered.

 

 "It's fenced in, and there are sec men on patrol everywhere."

 

 It seemed madness now to think they could trade their meager fish for slaves, but that had been their plan from the start and Ganley was determined to try trading first. If he succeeded, they might be able to trade for breeders on a regular basis, and if he failed, then they would return to try to take what they couldn't get in trade.

 

 "I'll need two to come with me," Ganley said. "The rest of you can rest here until dark."

 

 Rhonda was the first to step forward, followed by several men.

 

 The sec chief put a hand on Rhonda's shoulder. "No women. They'd take you as a slave in a second. Besides, I need you here to lead the raid if I don't return."

 

 Rhonda looked disappointed, but understood.

 

 "Franz and Ruznicki," he said.

 

 The two men stepped forward and picked up the fish they'd be offering in trade.

 

 Ganley turned to the rest of the raiders. "If we're not back by dark… We hope we won't meet you on the last train heading west."

 

 And then they were gone.

 

  

 

 Chapter Thirty-Four

 

  

 

 Emon Kauderer walked the fence to the west and north of the main building. Along with the other sec men in his squad, he'd been walking the orchards all morning, searching them tree by tree for the one-eyed outlander. But as thorough as their search had been, there'd been no sign of him. It was if he'd simply vanished into the misty morning air.

 

 Grundwold was feeling the heat from the baron over it, too, and Kauderer hoped they found the outlander soon. If they didn't, then the sec chief would be chilled, enslaved or sold off at auction, and who knew which one of the sec men would take over. One thing was for sure, anyone who desperately wanted the job wouldn't be right for it; anyone good enough for the position knew enough about the baron not to want it For a moment Kauderer thought of putting his name in for consideration, but then thought of the fate of Grundwold hanging on the search for this one man, and thought it better just to be an ordinary sec man for a little while longer. The jack wasn't all that much, but the food was good. It wasn't all that tough a job, and he could rut as often as he liked with the skags in the sec men's lounge. It wasn't a bad life, all things considered.

 

 Suddenly Kauderer felt a sharp burning pain in his right leg. He looked down and saw a piece of metal embedded in the muscle of his thigh.

 

 Shouting in pain, he dropped his blaster and tore open his pant leg to get a good look at his wound. A leaf-bladed knife protruded from his flesh.

 

 Where in the rad-blasted Deathlands had it come from? Kauderer wondered. No one was in sight. Maybe he'd been caught flat-footed by the one-eyed outlander, sneaking up on him from a stand of trees, stabbing him in the leg and retreating again, as invisible as the wind.

 

 The blood was running freely down his leg now, and he was beginning to feel weak.

 

 Fillinger came up behind him and grabbed Kauderer's shoulders to steady him. "What's wrong?"

 

 "Been stabbed."

 

 "Where?" Fillinger asked. "By who?"

 

 "In the leg…by the outlander."

 

 "We better get you to the nursery. The healer there's pretty good with wounds. She'll fix you up."

 

 Fillinger summoned a few nearby sec men to take Kauderer away. Then he moved a couple of squads from the east side of the farm to the west.

 

 They'd be sure to find the outlander now.

 

 DEAN LAY CLOSE to the ground next to Jak about twenty yards from the fence surrounding the farm. "How can you be sure they'll know that's the sign?"

 

 "Knife," the albino teenager said. "Know leaf blade."

 

 "I still can't believe you got the knife through the fence, and hit the sec man in the leg."

 

 Jak nodded. "Good throw."

 

 "But the gap in the fencing couldn't have been more than six inches across."

 

 "Was enough."

 

 They remained behind long enough to see the sec man being taken away, then started back to the wag so they could make a report to J.B.

 

 "MILDRED?" Krysty called out, entering the nursery.

 

 The woman was nowhere to be seen.

 

 Krysty went back out into the hall and noticed the door across the hallway was open. It was the door to the armory.

 

 She approached the door cautiously, sensing something was amiss.

 

 Then the door suddenly sprung open and Krysty found herself at the wrong end of a Czech-built ZKR .38-caliber target pistol aimed directly at her head by one Mildred Wyeth.

 

 "Hello, friend!" Krysty said.

 

 Without a word, Mildred pulled Krysty into the armory and loaded her up with the several boxes of ammunition. "Bring them into the nursery."

 

 "What about our weapons?" Krysty asked.

 

 Mildred removed the tape covering the lock on the door, then closed and locked the door to the armory behind her. "I've already got all our blasters back."

 

 "Where are they?"

 

 "Safe in the nursery, until we need them."

 

 Just then there was a commotion on the stairs. Two sec men were carrying another who was bleeding badly from a wound on his leg.

 

 Krysty dumped the ammo boxes into an empty bassinet and covered them with a blanket.

 

 "Bring him to the table over there," Mildred instructed.

 

 They carried the wounded man, now unconscious, and lifted him on the table. "He was stabbed by the one-eyed outlander," the sec man on the right of the wounded man said. "You better be able to save him."

 

 Mildred ignored the threat and set to work, motioning for Krysty to stay in order to give her a hand.

 

 When the sec man protested, she said, "She knows how to prepare field dressings and clean wounds. Your friend can live with her helping me, or take his chances with me working alone."

 

 The sec man reluctantly nodded, and took a step back.

 

 Mildred cut away what was left of the man's pant leg and gasped audibly at what she saw.

 

 "That bad?" the sec man asked.

 

 "No," she answered. "He'll be fine."

 

 The sec man left the nursery a moment to inform the other sec men milling about in the hall.

 

 Krysty tied off the man's leg with a tourniquet, and Mildred gently pulled out the leaf-bladed throwing knife. "Well," she said, "either Ryan has done the impossible and finally learned how to throw one of these knives, or a certain teenage albino has just sent us his card."

 

 RYAN SHIVERED in the cold water of the tower. He'd been hidden for hours, listening to sec men come and go around him, most of them eager to chill him and collect the big jack being offered by the baron.

 

 But for all their efforts, they hadn't once tried looking in the water tower. There had been a few close calls, with sec men hanging around the base of the tower awaiting new orders, but Ryan had remained still, making no sound, and eventually the sec men were sent to some far corner of the farm.

 

 And then, twenty minutes earlier, there'd been some action. Judging by what he'd heard, Ryan figuredthat a sec man had been wounded on patrol. They were crediting Ryan with the deed, but that only made him smile. Ryan knew that it meant his friends were at work, either on the inside creating a diversion or on the outside preparing to break them out.

 

 It had been quiet around the base of the water tower for the past ten minutes, and if Ryan was going to get out of the tower before dark, now was the time to do it. After the sec man had been wounded, the bulk of the sec force had hurried to the western fence looking for him, leaving only a shadow force around the main complex. If he could make it to the slaves' quarters unnoticed, then he could spend the rest of the day there in warmth and comfort waiting for dark.

 

 Ryan lifted himself up to the top of the water tank and took a look over the rim. In the distance he could see the sec men patrolling the fence and searching the trees. There were a few sec men closer in, but they were headed west to join the search with the others.

 

 Ryan turned to scan the eastern stretch of the farm and spotted a pair of sec men walking the fence, looking more as if they were patrolling rather than searching. One last quick look around and Ryan was convinced that it was time to move.

 

 He lifted himself over the top of the tower and climbed down the ladder to the ground. His clothes had left a wet trail down the side of the tower and on the ground beneath his feet, but with any luck the midday sun would dry any tracks he left behind.

 

 The slaves' quarters were about fifty yards away, across a stretch of fine, tan-brown dirt. To the left were patches of grass and weeds that would cover his trail but would add another twenty-five yards to the distance he had to travel.

 

 He decided it was better to hide his tracks.

 

 But instead of running, Ryan walked slowly, almost casually, as if he, too, were looking for the one-eyed outlander. Hopefully, if anyone saw him from a distance, he would look like just another sec man out on patrol.

 

 He was halfway to the closest cabin when he heard voices shouting loudly.

 

 "Do you see him?"

 

 "I think so!"

 

 Ryan wanted to run or dive for cover, but he was out in the open. He heard no more voices, and he thought that he'd be hearing blasterfire at any moment, but no one fired a shot.

 

 He took another look and saw two sec men standing near the main building. They were pointing at something out past the main gate.

 

 "That's a mutie, you triple-stupe bastard!" one of the sec men said.

 

 "It could have been the one-eye."

 

 "Yeah, and I'm Baron Fox." Ryan picked up the pace slightly and reached the cabin without further incident. He put his hand on the doorknob and turned it. It was unlocked. Without another moment's hesitation he opened the door and slipped inside.

 

 "Who the—?" a man said.

 

 "Don't stop now, baby!" a woman urged.

 

 Ryan stood motionless inside the doorway as a man and a woman halted their rutting and lifted their heads to see who had just joined them.

 

 "Afternoon," Ryan said.

 

 The woman smiled. "It's the outlander."

 

 "Hey, they're looking all over the place for you," the man said.

 

 Ryan reached over his right shoulder to touch the hilt of his panga just in case these slaves thought about turning him in. "I thought I would hide here for a while. Till dark."

 

 The woman's facial expression turned coy, and she ran a hand over one of her full and heavy breasts.

 

 "You're welcome to join us if you like."

 

 "No, thanks," Ryan said. "I'll just wait till dark."

 

 "We heard something might be happening tonight. Something big," the man questioned. "Is that right?"

 

 Ryan was glad to hear it. Krysty and Mildred had done a good job of spreading the word. "You heard right."

 

 "Well, you're welcome to stay," the man said. "The sec men have already been here twice today."

 

 Ryan nodded. "Thank you."

 

 "Maybe we should help him," the woman said.

 

 "After."

 

 "All right."

 

 Then the couple turned and looked at him.

 

 "Don't let me interrupt you," Ryan said.

 

 They got back to rutting.

 

 Ryan took a look around the cabin and found that it was little more than a single room with a bed set against one wall and wash and toilet facilities against the other. He picked out a comfortable spot near the door and sat on the floor. Then he tried to rub out the cold ache the water had left in his legs, but his joints and muscles were still stiff and would need more time to recover.

 

 Luckily, several hours remained before darkness fell, and judging by the way the couple was going at it on the bed, they would be busy for the next little while, giving him enough time to rest and recover.

 

  

 

 Chapter Thirty-Five

 

  

 

 "Traders at the gate," the sec man said.

 

 The baron stood at the north window of his office watching the sec chief and his men search the orchards. "Where are they from?"

 

 "Someplace called Reichel ville. It's on the south shore of Erie Lake."

 

 "Are they armed?"

 

 "Yes."

 

 "With what?"

 

 "Remades and handmades."

 

 "Are there any breeders among them?"

 

 "No."

 

 "What have they brought to trade?"

 

 "Fish."

 

 The baron wrinkled his nose at the thought of fish, but knew that it wouldn't hurt to supplement his slaves' diet with an alternate source of protein. "Are the fish fresh?"

 

 "No, baron. Preserved with salt. Some are smoked."

 

 "And what do they want in exchange for their fish?"

 

 The sec man hesitated.

 

 "Speak up, I can't hear you."

 

 The sec man cleared his throat. "A breeder."

 

 Baron Fox laughed heartily. "A breeder, for salted fish?"

 

 "Yes, Baron."

 

 "Number One," the baron said to Norman Bauer. "Trade them some fruit and vegetables and send them on their way."

 

 Norman nodded and left the baron's office.

 

 The baron turned to the lone sec man left in the office. "Find sec chief Grundwold and tell him I want an update."

 

 WHEN THE COUPLE had finished rutting, the woman got up from the bed and walked naked across the room to the wash facilities, where she towel dried the sweat from her body and combed her hair. The man lay back on the bed and watched her.

 

 "So," she said, approaching Ryan, "what's happening tonight?"

 

 Ryan wondered if they could be trusted, but realized that if they were loyal to the baron they would have turned him in hours ago. "Some people will be coming to get me and my friends."

 

 "What people?"

 

 "Other outlanders."

 

 "An escape?" the man asked from the bed.

 

 "Yeah."

 

 "Can we come with you?" he said, sitting up.

 

 "I won't be taking anyone with me, but you'll be free to leave if you have the chance."

 

 He looked up at the woman standing in front of Ryan, and it was obvious that they had something more in common than just rutting.

 

 "What can I do to help you?" she asked.

 

 "I need you to let my friends know where I am."

 

 "Sure. Where are your friends now?"

 

 "One's a healer working in the nursery. The other is the redhead, and she's staying in the visitors' quarters."

 

 The woman nodded. "I can get to the nursery easy."

 

 "What's your name?" Ryan asked.

 

 "Debby. He's Maurice."

 

 "All right, then, Debby, here's what you need to tell her when you get there," Ryan said.

 

 A BREAKER HAD CUT OFF the electricity flowing through the main gate. Norman Bauer had stepped through the open gate to negotiate the trade, and it was still open.

 

 "We don't trade breeders for anything but blasters," he said, the ledger open in his hands. "From the looks of the remades you're carrying, you don't have anything we want. Not for a breeder, anyway."

 

 "We're from a small fishing ville," sec chief Ganley said. "All we have to trade is fish, and we need new breeders to keep the ville alive."

 

 "Not my problem," Bauer said. "You want to trade fish, we can give you some fresh fruit and vegetables for them."

 

 Ganley nodded. "If we bring blasters to trade next time, might we trade for breeders then?"

 

 Bauer was impressed. Obviously this was a man who understood the nature of trade. Established trade partners got better deals than new ones. "Your chances of taking a breeder back to your ville would be better, yes."

 

 "Then we'll take your fruit and vegetables now, and return another time for a breeder."

 

 The two men shook hands, exchanged goods and went their separate ways. The fish went straight to the cafeteria, where it would be included in the next meal. Most of the fruit, however, was dumped by the raiders while on the way back to camp, since it was too heavy to carry such a distance when they'd be needing all their strength and energy for the raid later that night.

 

 The raiders were sorry to see the sec chief come back empty handed.

 

 But the muties along the way were happy for the fruit, and now thought of the raiders as friends.

 

 DEBBY RETURNED to her cabin an hour later.

 

 "Did you find Mildred or Krysty?" Ryan asked.

 

 "I found both of them in the nursery," she said, handing a few fresh fruit to Ryan. "Thought you might be hungry."

 

 "How were you able to get there and back without arousing suspicion?" Maurice asked.

 

 "I told the sec men along the way I was having women's problems. They didn't seem too interested in hearing the details and let me through to the nursery."

 

 Ryan took a bite of an apple. "Did Mildred and Krysty tell you anything?"

 

 "They sure did. Mildred said to tell you they were healing a sec man who the one-eyed outlander cut with a leaf-bladed throwing knife." She said the last four words very carefully so as to not make a mistake.

 

 Ryan was confused for a moment, then understood that Jak was somewhere close by.

 

 "And Krysty wanted me to give you something."

 

 "What?" Ryan asked.

 

 "This." She pulled Ryan's SIG-Sauer from beneath her dress, and two full clips from the deep cleavage between her breasts. "She said you'd know what to do with it."

 

 Ryan took the blaster in his hand, quickly checked it over to see that it was in good working order and then stuffed the clips into his pockets.

 

 "And I guess she was right," the woman said.

 

 "Did she say anything else?" Ryan asked.

 

 "Yes. She said, 'See you after dark, lover.' "

 

  

 

 Chapter Thirty-Six

 

  

 

 J.B. sat on the hood of the wag, wiping down his Uzi. The .50 calibers and the cannon were in as good a working order as he could manage. The wag was running better now, too, but it was clear that one or more of its eight cylinders was dead, and there was no guarantee it would be running long enough to get them all out of the farm complex.

 

 They'd get in on the back of the wag, but getting out might just have to be done on foot.

 

 Just then Doc called out to him. "I believe Jak and young Dean are returning from their recce."

 

 "Are they alone?" J.B. asked.

 

 "Afraid not. Jak seems to have picked up a wild hare or some sort of squirrel."

 

 J.B. jumped down off the wag to meet the two youths.

 

 "There's something happening on the farm," Dean said excitedly. "There's sec men all over, but Jak sent a message to Dad. Man, what a message—"

 

 The information was coming too fast, and with too much noise for J.B.'s liking.

 

 He waved his right hand at the boy to cut off his words and turned to Jak. "What happened?"

 

 "Slaves all inside. Outside looks someone escape. Mebbe Ryan, mebbe not. Sec men on triple red. Stuck sec man in leg with knife. Send message to Mildred. No mistake. Tonight be ready."

 

 J.B. nodded.

 

 "I could have told you all that," Dean said, visibly disappointed.

 

 "I know, but I wanted the facts first."

 

 Doc interjected. "Quite often, young Mr. Cawdor, someone's life will depend on the rapid exchange of information. Although we have got plenty of time to go before sundown, it is still a good rule to obey."

 

 "All right," Dean said, dejected. "I'll make a note of it for next time."

 

 J.B. put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "C'mon, you can tell me all about it while Jak puts those squirrels on the spit."

 

 Dean's face lit up in excitement. "Well, there was only a six-inch gap in the fence and…"

 

 "FRUIT?" RHONDA ASKED, holding an apple in her hand.

 

 "Said they don't trade breeders for food," Ganley said.

 

 "But you told us that they send wag trains to the eastern villes all the time, trading breeders for all kinds of supplies. Not just blasters."

 

 "They do. I've seen them do it." The sec chief shook his head. "Felt to me like their trader was busy with some other problem right now and just wanted to get rid of us, quick as he could."

 

 "I got that impression, too," Franz said.

 

 Ruznicki nodded. "Me, too."

 

 "So," Rhonda said, "what do we do now?"

 

 "We wait for dark," Ganley said, pulling a peach out of the bag of fruit they'd brought back to the camp.

 

 "And then we take from them what they wouldn't give us in trade."

 

 CLARISSA RETURNED to the wag late in the afternoon. She was being trailed by a few muties, but they were hanging well back and seemed more concerned with the farm than following her.

 

 "Muties are ready?"

 

 "They can't wait to get inside," Clarissa said. "But there's something else you need to know about."

 

 "What's that?" J.B. asked.

 

 "Traders at the farm today."

 

 "We saw them," J.B. said. "Did their business and went away."

 

 Clarissa shook her head. "Not quite. There's more to the group than the ones trading. They're camped to the south of the farm."

 

 "What want?" Jak asked.

 

 "Not fruit—that's for sure. They dumped half of what they traded for on their way back to their camp."

 

 "That is strange," Doc commented.

 

 "The muties loved it," Clarissa said. "They've circled their camp waiting for more."

 

 Jak looked at J.B. "Call off tonight?"

 

 J.B. was silent a moment, noting that the sun was low in the western sky and less than an hour from sliding below the horizon. "No. There's no time," he said. "Ryan, Mildred and Krysty are expecting us tonight."

 

 "What about the traders?" Clarissa asked.

 

 "If they wanted more than fruit, my guess is that when our blasters light up the dark, they'll be on our side."

 

 THE SUN WAS ALMOST GONE from the day and the sky was streaked in a rainbow of fiery reds, glowing oranges and searing yellows. Flashes of greenish-blues cut between the hues like portals to another time.

 

 It was a beautiful sight, one few had the time to admire.

 

 For Grundwold, the setting sun meant he had failed. The one-eyed outlander was still hidden somewhere on the farm, and his chances of escaping the complex outright would improve with every minute of darkness.

 

 "Should I call back the sec men to guard the main building through the night?" Fillinger asked.

 

 Grundwold considered it, but knew he couldn't tell the baron that the outlander was still on the loose. And as long as he kept searching, he hadn't failed. "No more than a dozen men," Grundwold ordered. "Turn on the lights and leave the rest of them out there in the orchards."

 

 "But they'll be easy targets to chill for a single man in the dark," Fillinger stated.

 

 The sec chief realized he was putting his men at risk, but there was no other choice; the search had to continue. "If one of them gets chilled, then at least we'll know where the one-eye is."

 

 Fillinger was silent a moment, then said, "What about the baron. He'll want a report."

 

 "Find Norman Bauer," Grundwold said. "Tell him to send two breeders to the baron's quarters. That should keep him busy for a while."

 

 Fillinger nodded, then turned to carry out the sec chiefs orders.

 

 "Now," Grundwold muttered. "Let's go find the outlander."

 

 THERE WAS a single knock on the door before it opened.

 

 Ryan had been sitting on the edge of the bed and only had time to dive to the floor between the bed and the wall. His SIG-Sauer was in his hand and ready to fire, but he resisted the temptation to rise up with his blaster blazing. He'd be able to take out the first sec men, but there would be more coming through the door without another way out of the cabin.

 

 "What is it?" Maurice asked. "You've already been through here twice today."

 

 Ryan slid under the bed and looked out from beneath it through a slit in the overhanging sheets.

 

 The sec man had ignored Maurice's comment and was looking at Debby, who was still lying on the bed. "You," he said to her. "Let's go!"

 

 "Go where?" she asked, dutifully getting up from the bed and putting on a bathrobe. "What have I done?"

 

 "Nothing wrong," said the sec man. "You're going to see the baron."

 

 Debby looked over at Maurice with a pained expression, then at the bed where Ryan had been only second before. "Is it a celebration? Did they find the one-eye?"

 

 "Not yet."

 

 "Then why is the baron calling for me?"

 

 "Not the baron, sec chief Grundwold," the sec man said. "He wants the baron kept busy while we continue the search."

 

 "Oh, my pleasure," Debby cooed, in what Ryan knew were words solely for the sec man's benefit. She was in love with Maurice and he was in love with her, but they could never admit it. Not yet, anyway.

 

 "Let's go."

 

 At the door she stopped, turned back to face Maurice and said, "If you get busy tonight, please don't forget about me. Don't leave me behind."

 

 "Never," Maurice said.

 

  

 

 Chapter Thirty-Seven

 

  

 

 Baron Fox was lying back on his round, oversize bed, looking through another stack of predark hard-core skin mags. This one was calledDominas and featured naked and provocatively dressed breeders subjugating men in a variety of different ways.

 

 The baron turned the page and there were two women, one dressed in red, the other dressed in black, standing on a naked man. Each of the women wore spike-heeled shoes and the heels were pressing into the man's flesh, threatening to break the skin at any moment. In photo after photo they moved slightly so that their deadly shoes pressed against the man's arms, throat and face. In the last photo, the woman in black had taken her shoes off and was smothering the man with her stocking-covered feet. The man seemed to be turning red from lack of oxygen, but like in all the other photos, he had an enormous erection.

 

 Here were breeders acting as he would, as the baron. The men in the photos were the slaves, happy to be humiliated, punished, physically injured, by the wickedly evil breeders.

 

 The baron wondered if he might be able to experience such a thrill. It was unlikely, since he was the baron and if he let himself be dominated by any of his breeders, it would be looked upon as a sign of weakness. He'd been able to keep Grundwold in line, but if the man detected a weakness, he could use it to his advantage.

 

 Perhaps, the baron thought, he could subject himself to such breeders, and then chill them, so that they would take what they knew of the baron to the grave with them. It was certainly a possibility, one that would prevent Grundwold from learning that his baron could be controlled under the right circumstances. Just then there was a knock on the door. "Enter," the baron said. He'd been expecting Norman Bauer, but was surprised to see a sec man enter. "What is it?"

 

 "Breeders, Baron," the sec man said nervously.

 

 "I never asked for any breeders," the baron said, putting the skin mag aside for now and rising from his bed.

 

 The sec man let the two breeders enter the baron's quarters. They were attractive, perhaps on the heavy side, but good breeders. Good rutters, too, the baron admitted, as the larger one had visited him before. "Sec chief Grundwold sent them, sir."

 

 "What?"

 

 "He knows you've had a stressful day and could use some breeders to unwind."

 

 "He said that?" the baron asked, the anger rising within him.

 

 The sec man, obviously frightened of the baron, simply nodded.

 

 "He hasn't caught the one-eyed outlander yet, has he?"

 

 The sec man shook his head.

 

 "Triple-stupe fucker," the baron shouted. "And he thinks I'll just forget about his incompetence by sending me a couple of breeders."

 

 The sec man stood still and silent.

 

 The two breeders were trembling in fear.

 

 "I was hoping he'd show a little imagination in his search, but he's just as triple-stupe as the rest of you." The baron went over to a dresser and pulled open the top drawer. In one fluid motion his hand slid inside and came out with a blued steel 9 mm Luger blaster. He turned to the sec man. "Find the sec chief and tell him to meet me in the nursery."

 

 "Yes, Baron."

 

 "And find that redheaded gaudy slut of an outlander and bring her to the nursery, too."

 

 The sec man ran off to carry out the baron's orders.

 

 "If the sec chief can't find the one-eye, then maybe we can use his friends to draw him out."

 

 The two breeders remained.

 

 "You two wait for me here," the baron said. "I'll be back."

 

 THE SUN WAS GONE from the sky.

 

 The raiders had just finished building a pair of wooden ladders that would help them get over the fence and into the compound.

 

 "All ready?" Ganley asked.

 

 "Ready," the raiders answered in a jumble of voices scattered over several seconds. "Then let's move."

 

 J.B. TAPPED HIS FINGER on the key, waiting for word to come from the back of the wag that everything was secure and the rest of the group was ready to move.

 

 When Jak and Dean were in position behind the .50 calibers, Doc was in the wag's bed overseeing the cannon shells and Clarissa was riding shotgun with J.B.'s Uzi at the ready, J.B. grabbed hold of the wag's key and turned it.

 

 The starter motor turned over weakly, the engine sputtered and then stopped.

 

 "Want us to push?" Clarissa asked.

 

 "Not yet," J.B. answered. He turned the key again and the starter let out a series of slow protesting groans. The engine sputtered once more, but this time it suddenly roared to life.

 

 J.B. beamed proudly as the work he'd done on the engine over the course of the day had paid off. The engine was running more smoothly than it had in the morning, and he was confident it would keep running for as long as he needed it to.

 

 "Hang on!" he said, then put the wag into gear. The wag lurched forward.

 

 J.B. drove slowly in darkness, not wanting to try the wag's lights. If they worked, it would help with the driving, but it would make the wag a good target for the farm's sec men. As it was, all they had to shoot at was a sound in the darkness and such things were hard to hit at the best of times.

 

 Their plan was simple.

 

 They would use the 37 mm cannon to take out the farm's electric supply. That would shut off the lights, shut down the electric fence and generally create chaos within the complex.

 

 Then they'd use the weight of the wag to break through the front gate.

 

 Once inside the complex, Clarissa and Jak would head into the main building to look for Ryan, Krysty and Mildred. J.B. would select strategic targets for the 37 mm cannon, such as sec towers, wags and emergency electricity and lighting while Dean and Doc would use the .50 calibers to keep the sec force under cover.

 

 Depending on how the wag stood up, J.B. would stay with the wag they had, or they'd try to take one of the baron's wags from inside the barn.

 

 While all this was going on, Ryan, Krysty and Mildred would be working their way out from the inside of the complex, splitting the sec force, chilling sec men and distracting other sec men from the front gate.

 

 Add to that the muties, who would be streaming in through the gate and over the fence, taking out sec men and eating them raw, and the slaves themselves who would have been warned about what was coming and would be all too eager to escape or chill their former masters.

 

 Organized chaos, J.B. thought. He'd have preferred to sneak in with a precision strike, but the electric fence made that too difficult, and they had the firepower to go in with blasters blazing. So why not go with their strengths?

 

 And it was all going to start going down in less than five minutes.

 

 THE DOOR to the nursery burst open and Baron Fox strode in, a blaster in one hand and an electric cattle prod in the other.

 

 "Grundwold," the baron shouted.

 

 The sec chief stepped forward. "Yes, Baron."

 

 "You're no longer sec chief."

 

 Grundwold's mouth opened to utter words of protest.

 

 But the baron didn't give him a chance to respond. He raised his Luger and shot the man in the shoulder, sending him flying backward against a supply cabinet.

 

 "Anyone else have anything to say about Grundwold's demotion?" the baron demanded.

 

 No one said a word.

 

 Mildred moved toward the sec chief to see if he'd been fatally shot.

 

 "Leave him!" the baron ordered, then turned. "Fillinger!"

 

 "Yes, Baron."

 

 "You're my new sec chief now."

 

 "Yes, Baron!"

 

 "Take this fire-headed gaudy slut outside and have her walk the grounds in the lights of a wag. Put two sec men on her, a blaster trained on each side of her head. Tell the one-eye either he comes out of hiding, or we'll blow her pretty little head clean off her shoulders."

 

 "Yes, Baron!" he said with obvious glee.

 

 Mildred moved closer to the bassinet that held her blaster.

 

 "C'mon, Red, let's go for a walk," the baron said.

 

 Krysty remained where she was. Mildred inched still closer to the bassinet.

 

 "I said let's move."

 

 Suddenly a loud boom thundered from somewhere outside. Several glass containers in the nursery shook. Babies were awakened from their sleep and began to cry.

 

 The noise was followed by several seconds of silence.

 

 "Find out what that was!" the baron ordered.

 

 Sec men began running up the stairs.

 

 A second loud boom sounded, and then all the lights went out. The entire building was shrouded in inky darkness.

 

  

 

 Chapter Thirty-Eight

 

  

 

 J.B.'s first shot had missed the tall wooden pole that held the power lines bringing electricity into the complex. He adjusted the wag slightly, moved in closer and the second blast from the cannon cut the pole down better than any ax ever could.

 

 The pole had toppled slowly, and it took several seconds for the lines to snap and the lights to go out inside the complex. There would likely be reserve or emergency lighting coming on at any moment, but J.B. didn't wait around to find out for sure. He threw the wag into gear, circled back around toward the front gate and was now speeding toward the chain-link fence.

 

 "Hang on and cover up!" he cried.

 

 He expected spotlights to catch the wag as they headed toward the main gate, but the complex was still in darkness. Maybe there was no emergency lighting after all.

 

 The fence was in front of them.

 

 "Three, two, one!" J.B. counted down.

 

 The front of the wag struck the fence. The vehicle slowed; and for a moment it seemed as if they might be stopped dead in their tracks, but the steel gave way and they burst through the gate with plenty of speed.

 

 J.B. also expected to be under fire at this point, but the sudden plunge into darkness had caused confusion among the ranks of sec men. Many searching the orchards were now caught in the dark.

 

 As they charged across the courtyard, a sec man came out from around the corner of the main building. Dean saw him first, cutting the man down with a sweep of the .50 caliber.

 

 "Shorter bursts," J.B. shouted to Dean.

 

 "Sorry."

 

 J.B. slowed the wag rather than stopping it, deciding a moving target was much harder to hit than one that was standing still. "Go," he told Clarissa.

 

 She jumped out of the wag, followed by Jak.

 

 A moment later they were gone.

 

 J.B. turned the wag in the direction of one of the sec towers overlooking the courtyard and main gate. "Doc?" he said.

 

 "Ready when you are, Captain," Doc answered.

 

 J.B. pulled the trigger. The cannon let out a loud thud. The air around the wag smelled of cordite. Then the sec tower was suddenly without one of its legs.

 

 It slowly began to fall—toward the wag.

 

 "Uh, might I suggest that we move our vehicle to avoid an unhappy circumstance," Doc said.

 

 J.B. didn't answer. He was too busy trying to get the wag out of the way of the falling tower.

 

 WHEN THE EMERGENCY lights came on, the baron was gone.

 

 And so was Krysty.

 

 But there was little time to dwell on that with so many sec men in the room.

 

 In the dark, Mildred had retrieved her ZKR target pistol, and when the lights kicked in she was ready. She fired two shots at the sec men at the door to the nursery, hitting the first in the head, blowing a chunk of skull off the top of it. She caught the second in the throat, and he fell to the floor clutching at his neck in a futile attempt to staunch the flow of blood.

 

 Grundwold was still moaning in pain on the floor, trying to get to his feet despite the wound to his shoulder. Mildred lowered her blaster and put a round into his heart before he had a chance to get onto his knees.

 

 "What's going on in here?" asked the old woman, who up until now had been taking care of the newborns in another part of the nursery.

 

 "Liberation," Mildred said. "We're getting out."

 

 "These people don't know anything about freedom," the old woman told her. "I remember it, but most don't know any other kind of life. In fact, some even like it here."

 

 "Well, maybe now at least they'll have a choice."

 

 The old woman shrugged. "I suppose. Good luck to you. I've got children to tend to."

 

 Mildred reached down and took the Persuader 500 pistol-grip longblaster from the holster of the dead former sec chief. "Here," she said. "It might come in handy."

 

 The old woman took the blaster and hefted it in her hand. "It might at that."

 

 Then she picked up Krysty's Smith & Wesson from its hiding place and tucked it into the waistband of her jeans. Obviously Krysty had been taken hostage by the baron and his new sec chief.

 

 The two men might as well have signed their death warrants.

 

 WHEN THE FIRST BOOM sounded, Ryan thought it might mean that J.B. was near. When there was a second boom and the lights went out, he was sure of it. "That's it," he told Maurice. "Time to move." The two men left the cabin and headed for the main building.

 

 SEC CHIEF GANLEY had been first over the fence at the onset of darkness and was now helping others climb down from the wooden ladder.

 

 In the distance, something boomed like a cannon for the second time.

 

 The sound startled one of the raiders who was at the top of the outside ladder and crossing over to the one on the inside of the complex. The man faltered and was forced to reach out with his hand and grab at the fence. He screamed loud and shrill in anticipation of the electricity that was about to flow through his body.

 

 But nothing happened.

 

 "The fence is down," Ganley called out, realizing they'd just been given a lucky break. "Everyone over as quick as you can."

 

 Minutes later the raiders were roaming the orchard freely, hunting for breeders.

 

 HUNGRY MUTIES POURED IN through the broken front gate like water through a sluice.

 

 And when they realized the power was out, they began climbing over the fence, too, surging into the complex from all sides.

 

 In the eerily dim glow of the emergency lights, sec men raised their blasters at the charging muties, but hesitated when they saw how many of the hunger-mad creatures they were up against.

 

 Some sec men fired; others ran, as far as the front gate and beyond.

 

 Most ended up as meals for the starving mutants.

 

 The lucky ones were chilled quickly.

 

 The unlucky ones were eaten alive.

 

  

 

 Chapter Thirty-Nine

 

  

 

 Ryan left the cabin and, along with Maurice, ran to the main building. The sec men in the area didn't seem all too concerned with their progress as the thud of a large-bore weapon and the crackle of heavy-caliber machine blasters had them all scrambling for cover.

 

 As Ryan turned the corner on the building, a familiar flash of white caught his eye.

 

 "Jak!" he shouted.

 

 The spot of white reappeared in the blown-out hole where the front doors used to be. Jak waited for Ryan and when they met, the two shook hands.

 

 "Good see you," Jak said.

 

 "Likewise." Ryan nodded.

 

 Clarissa came up behind Jak. Maurice was standing by Ryan's side.

 

 "This Clarissa. Friend of muties. Helping us."

 

 "Maurice," Ryan said, gesturing with his head in the slave's direction. "Friend of mine."

 

 "There's the one-eye," someone shouted.

 

 Blasterfire suddenly began slamming into the wall behind them. They all dived for cover, scraping and cutting their hands on the shards of glass scattered around the building. Ryan found himself pinned behind a column supporting the building's second floor.

 

 Jak and Clarissa had also gained cover, but Maurice had been caught by the sec men's blasters. His body jerked as he was torn apart by rounds coming from somewhere high up and out of sight. He stood for several seconds, then finally fell to the ground a bloody mess.

 

 "He was going to take me to the nursery," Ryan said. "That's where Krysty and Mildred are."

 

 "I can take you there," Clarissa said.

 

 Ryan wanted to move, but they were still being pinned down by sec men on the roof of a nearby building.

 

 But just below the sound of blasterfire came the grinding of a wag engine, low at first, but growing louder by the second. Without warning there was a boom that shook the ground, followed by a small explosion.

 

 Men screamed, debris filled the air and the rain of blasterfire abruptly came to an end.

 

 "Lead the way!" Ryan told Clarissa.

 

 The three of them entered the building.

 

 RYAN, JAK AND Clarissa hurried down the steps, taking them two at a time. They all had their blasters at the ready, expecting a sec man to turn the corner on them at the bottom of the stairs and they'd have nowhere to turn.

 

 But they made it down without incident.

 

 "Left or right?" Jak asked.

 

 "Right," Clarissa answered.

 

 A crack of a blaster echoed from down the hall, and all three took cover against the wall of the stairwell.

 

 After several seconds of silence, a second shot rang out, followed by a groan and the sound of a falling body.

 

 J.B. was best at recognizing the sounds various blasters made and could sometimes even identify the type of ammo being used, but even Ryan knew enough to identify the sharp crack of a .38-caliber Czech-built ZKR. It was possible that a sec man was now using Mildred's target pistol, but the spacing of the single shots and their accuracy told Ryan all he needed to know.

 

 "Mildred," he called out in the direction the shot had come.

 

 "Who wants to know?" came the response.

 

 "Me, Ryan."

 

 She turned the corner, blaster raised in case it was some sort of trick, and smiled. "It's good to see you, Ryan, and I have to admit, I would have even been happy if it were Doc instead of you."

 

 "I'll have to tell him."

 

 "He'll never believe you."

 

 Ryan was done with small talk. "Where's Krysty?"

 

 "The baron took her hostage when the lights went out," Mildred reported.

 

 Ryan turned to Clarissa. "Where would he have gone with her?"

 

 "Depends what he wanted to do with her."

 

 Ryan thought about it for a second. "To get away?"

 

 "Then he'd go to the barn and try for a wag."

 

 "Then we head back outside."

 

 Ryan and Mildred began moving back up the stairs, but Jak and Clarissa remained where they were.

 

 "What's wrong?" Ryan asked.

 

 "Sister prisoner in basement," Jak explained. "Promised rescue for help."

 

 Ryan understood. "All right. You go with her, Jak. Mildred comes with me. If you're not outside in twenty minutes, we'll come back in looking for you."

 

 "Won't have to," Jak said. "Not be there."

 

 Without another word the two pairs went their separate ways, Ryan and Mildred heading up, Jak and Clarissa heading down.

 

 JUST OUTSIDE the nursery, Baron Fox escorted the two breeders from his office along the hallway. He'd given instructions to the new sec chief to use the redheaded beauty to convince the one-eyed outlander to leave the farm without destroying it completely. If it worked, wonderful, but even if it didn't, he'd be safe and in a position to reclaim the farm in no time.

 

 When he reached the dungeon, he found a sec man standing guard there.

 

 "Make sure no one comes down this hallway," the baron ordered. "No slaves, muties, outlanders… Not even any sec men. Understood?"

 

 "Yes, Baron!"

 

 Baron Fox pushed the breeders past.

 

 Farther down the hall and around a corner, the sec man heard a heavy door open, then close, and then the sound of a heavy mechanism locking into place.

 

 And then only silence.

 

  

 

 Chapter Forty

 

  

 

 The slaves opened the doors to their cabins.

 

 It was happening.

 

 The one-eyed outlander had spread the word that there would be something happening that night, a chance for escape, for freedom, and now it was happening.

 

 There were dead sec men everywhere, falling like ripe fruit at the end of the season. Blasterfire cut them down like axes, and their remades were being scooped up by slaves, the new masters of the farm.

 

 Muties were running through the complex, eating everything in sight, especially uniformed sec men.

 

 It was total chaos, and the slaves were never happier.

 

 Marguerite, a black-haired breeder who had given the baron six offspring in four years, could hardly believe her eyes. Slaves ran from cabin to cabin, some carrying blasters, some with tree branches, all with wild-eyed excitement in their eyes.

 

 "Come look, Joshua," she said, stepping out of her cabin. "They're chilling a sec man over there, doing him with his own blaster."

 

 Joshua, the man Marguerite had been rutting with the past six nights, stepped out of the cabin and joined her outside. About twenty-five yards away, four slaves were kicking and beating a sec man who'd been caught out in the orchards alone. They had shot him in the belly with his remade and were now taking great pleasure in torturing him before letting him die.

 

 "This means we're free," Joshua shouted.

 

 Marguerite shook her head and looked away. She was an older woman, well into her thirties, and had been a slave so long she feared her own freedom. Everything had been provided for her in the past, and she'd become comfortable with that. Being free meant fending for herself, feeding herself and finding her own way in life. The thought of it terrified her.

 

 "We can leave here," Joshua said. "Together. We could go to one of the eastern villes, maybe another barony. Whatever we do, we'll be doing it together."

 

 Joshua's words gave Marguerite confidence, reason to hope.

 

 Just then an arrow caught Joshua in the throat. Great gouts of blood began to pour from the gaping wound, and the fire that had been in his eyes just a moment before began to dim.

 

 Marguerite turned in time to have her face covered in a fine red mist, and her body streaked by the blood that was leaving Joshua's body like oil from a can.

 

 "What, where?" she asked in confusion.

 

 Joshua fell to the ground.

 

 "Who wants this one?" sec chief Ganley said.

 

 A dozen raiders stood behind him armed with a mix of blasters, bows and pikes.

 

 "I'll take her," a young man said, barely out of his teens.

 

 "What's going on?" Marguerite asked. "Who are you?"

 

 Ganley ignored her questions and pressed on, the rest of the raiders, save one, following him.

 

 "My name's Matthew," he said. "I've come from Reichel ville, a fishing village on Erie Lake not far from here."

 

 "What do you want?"

 

 "You," he said. "We've come for breeders, new blood for our dying ville."

 

 "I can give you offspring," Marguerite said.

 

 "Good," Matthew said, leading her into the orchards and the staging area they had set up on the other side of the fence. "I hope you can help me raise them, too."

 

 Marguerite was confused. "I'm not going to be a slave?"

 

 "No, not a slave. You're going to be my wife."

 

 JAK AND CLARISSA passed the nursery and rounded the corner to the dungeon, then stopped and backtracked around the corner again.

 

 A sec man stood guard in front of the door that led to the dungeon. He was armed with a 12-gauge pump-action blaster, and he looked determined not to let anyone get by him.

 

 "Must chill," Jak said in a whisper.

 

 Clarissa put her hand on Jak's arm. "No, we need him alive."

 

 "Why?"

 

 "My sister and the others are chained to the dungeon wall. We'll need keys to unlock and set them free."

 

 Jak nodded, then reached inside his coat for one of the leaf-bladed throwing knifes he kept hidden on his person. He balanced the knife in his throwing hand, mentally counted to three, then rolled past the corner into the hallway and came up onto his knees to make the throw. The knife sailed straight and true, catching the sec man in the right bicep and involuntarily forcing open his right hand. The blaster fell to the floor with a heavy clang, and Jak got to his feet, his huge Colt Python leveled at the sec man's chest.

 

 The sec man grabbed at his wounded arm with his left hand and tried to kneel to pick up his longblaster.

 

 "No," Jak said.

 

 "Give us the keys for the dungeon," Clarissa yelled as she came up behind Jak, "and he won't chill you."

 

 "Fuck you, you snow-headed mutie freak!"

 

 Jak squeezed the trigger and blew off part of the sec man's right foot.

 

 "Where are the keys?" Clarissa demanded.

 

 The sec man was too busy writhing on the floor and screaming in pain to answer.

 

 Jak pushed the barrel of the Python against the man's genitals.

 

 "Tell me where the keys are," Clarissa said softly.

 

 The sec man stared at Jak's big blaster in horror. "There's a master key in my right pocket." He fished inside his pants with a trembling hand and produced a key on a Lucite fob that had a picture of the falls on it in all its predark glory.

 

 Clarissa took the key from him. "Thanks."

 

 Jak raised the Python to the sec man's head. "Lose lot blood," he said to Clarissa. "Die anyway."

 

 She nodded.

 

 Jak looked at the sec man. "Not mutie."

 

 Then he pulled the trigger.

 

 RYAN AND MILDRED were back outside the front doors to the main building looking for Krysty and her captor.

 

 The courtyard was in shambles and utter chaos. The bloody remains of several sec men were strewed across the ground, several of them in the very circle Ryan had fought the day before. Muties ran through the compound, eating fruit, brandishing weapons and generally making up for years of hunger and near starvation.

 

 There were sec men still in the complex, but they all seemed to be trying to escape out the front gate, like rats jumping off a sinking ship. It was obvious to them all they'd lost the battle, and now they were just saving themselves.

 

 "Where are we going to find Krysty in all this?" Mildred asked.

 

 Ryan scanned the complex. "I know from experience," he said. "There are a hundred places to hide out in."

 

 "She could be anywhere."

 

 And then Ryan saw something, a familiar flash of titian hair, and he knew that their search was over.

 

 "You can stop looking," Ryan said, pointing. "She's found us. There."

 

 Mildred followed the line made by Ryan's finger. "That's the baron's new sec chief. Name's Fillinger."

 

 Fillinger stood on the roof of the main building with Krysty in front of him. Her hands were bound behind her back, and he had a large blued blaster pressed to the side of her head.

 

 "One-eye!" the sec chief called.

 

 Ryan looked up but said nothing.

 

 "I got something you want."

 

 Ryan said nothing to the man on the roof, but just under his breath he muttered to Mildred, "He's too far for me to try with the SIG-Sauer."

 

 Mildred gauged the distance, wind, the slight movements of the target and shook her head. "He's got Krysty too close. If I'm a fraction off, she's on the last train west."

 

 "I want to make a deal," the sec chief shouted.

 

 The last thing Ryan wanted was to make a trade or strike some deal for the lives of his friends. Trading blasters and goods for food and shelter was one thing, but trading humans for those same items was just plain wrong. But this wasn't just any human the sec chief was holding hostage; it was Krysty. His friend and lover. He'd listen to the man's offer, and try to figure out some other solution in the meantime. "I'm listening."

 

 "You leave now and take your friends with you— the fish traders, the muties, all of them."

 

 There were a few moments of silence. So far the deal wasn't sounding very good. "And?" Ryan asked.

 

 "And Red won't be chilled."

 

 "That's not much of a deal," Ryan said.

 

 "Best one you get, One-eye."

 

 "Let her go and we'll leave."

 

 The sec chief shook his head. "The baron wants her. We need to rebuild the breeding stock, and she's just what we need."

 

 "You sure you can't take him?" Ryan muttered.

 

 Mildred made a second assessment. "Sorry, Ryan."

 

 "If you don't let her go, there won't be a piece of this farm left standing by the time I'm through with it."

 

 "I'll take that chance," Fillinger said.

 

 "What are we going to do, Ryan?" Mildred asked.

 

 "I don't know."

 

 THE REICHEL VILLE raiders had made it all the way through the orchards and had taken a dozen slaves with them—nine of them women. The entire operation had gone easier than they'd expected, and they were about to leave with eight more than they arrived with.

 

 The ville would survive and flourish.

 

 As Rhonda led a party of six toward the large group of buildings at the far end of the complex, she was looking for something to give sec chief Ganley. He'd been a selfless leader to the raiders, and they had all expressed their wish to thank him in some way. A mate of his own would be a excellent show of gratitude, but what sort of woman would suit him?

 

 They turned the corner on the cabins housing the men and women living on the farm, and Rhonda caught sight of a sec man standing on the roof of the biggest building on the farm. There was a woman with him, a woman with the most amazing red hair. He seemed to be shouting down at someone on the other side of the building.

 

 "Dwayne," she said.

 

 "Yeah," came the response from a middle-aged man as he came up behind her.

 

 "That first night we camped out on the south shore of the lake, what did the sec chief say when we asked him what he'd like in a mate?"

 

 Dwayne thought about it a moment. "Uh, he said she'd have to be healthy, and that he always liked red hair. Red hair, or dark skin, one or the other."

 

 "Look up there." She gestured with a flick of her head.

 

 "That's red, all right."

 

 "Take two others up onto the roof. When we take the sec man out, you bring the redhead down to the staging area. We'll cover your back along the way."

 

 "Right."

 

 "As soon as we're on the other side of the fence, we're outta here."

 

 "WELL, ONE-EYE!" sec chief Fillinger said. "I don't see you leaving."

 

 "Can't leave her behind," Ryan said.

 

 "Sorry to hear that."

 

 "You chill her, there won't be a farm left to rebuild."

 

 "It's already gone to shit."

 

 "Let her go!" Ryan shouted, then turned to Mildred and whispered. "Take your best shot."

 

 Mildred raised her target pistol slowly, knowing that once the sec chief saw the blaster she'd only have a split second to take the shot.

 

 But then the sec chiefs body suddenly jerked to the right. The man let go of Krysty and stumbled to keep his balance.

 

 With several feet of darkness between the sec chief and Krysty, Mildred had no trouble marking the target. She raised her ZKR and fired off two rounds, catching the sec chief first in the chest and then in the head.

 

 But he didn't fall.

 

 Instead he turned away from Krysty and in the dim glow of the auxiliary lights, the arrow that had pierced his neck and shattered his throat became visible to the friends on the ground.

 

 "Let's get up there and grab Krysty," Ryan said, already running toward the main building.

 

 Mildred followed him, five steps behind all the way through the building and finally up the ladder that brought them to the roof.

 

 But when they got there, all they found was a dead sec chief.

 

 Krysty was gone.

 

  

 

 Chapter Forty-One

 

  

 

 J.B., Doc and Dean had taken up a position outside the barn where they'd been told the baron kept a LAV and a few transport wags. They had considered storming the barn and capturing one of the wags, but a dozen or more sec men had already gone inside and following them in would have brought on a firefight.

 

 So instead they parked the wag about a hundred yards from the barn doors with the cannon loaded and the .50 calibers aimed at the open door.

 

 "How many shells left, Doc?" J.B. asked.

 

 "Six," Doc answered. "Of differing quality from good to questionable."

 

 "How about the fifties?"

 

 "Six feet of belt on the back," Dean reported. "Four and a half on the front."

 

 A noise came from the inside of the barn.

 

 "Hear that?" J.B. asked.

 

 "If I am not mistaken," Doc said, "that's the rattle and thrum of a diesel engine, most likely made in the predark city of Detroit, or perhaps one of the smaller villes such as Flint or Pontiac."

 

 "Diesel, all right. Get ready."

 

 Doc and Dean manned the fifties. J.B. tightened his grip on the cannon's trigger.

 

 All at once the door to the barn was filled by a black LAV. It had four large wheels, a small compartment for a crew and a single blaster mounted on a pivot at the top of a conically shaped turret. It weapon was smaller than the 37 mm, and it was also pointed in the wrong direction.

 

 J.B. held back on firing until the LAV approached his line of fire. Leading the target by about a yard, he pulled the trigger and the front wheels of the vehicle were blown off their mounts. The LAV foundered, falling forward like a horse that just had its front legs pulled out from under it. The blaster began to swivel in their direction, but the LAV had come to a stop directly in J.B.'s line of fire. Still, the Armorer turned the wheel of the wag to the left and backed it up about two feet, bringing the LAV's turret directly in line with the cannon's barrel.

 

 "Doc, is it loaded?"

 

 In the back of the wag, Doc was busily making sure that the gun was loaded and wouldn't jam on the next round.

 

 "Doc?"

 

 "Do not wait for me, John Barrymore."

 

 J.B. pulled the trigger and the cannon thudded again, this time hitting the LAV's turret and shattering its blaster into a pile of hot steel.

 

 The top of the LAV popped open and sec men began to scramble out. Dean peppered them with .50-caliber fire, chilling two and sending the other running unarmed and empty-handed out of the complex.

 

 "Hot pipe!" Dean exclaimed.

 

 THE DUNGEON was little more than a damp, dark and musty basement. It housed water heaters, and electric heaters to keep the farm buildings warm through the winter, as well as filters and a few tables with seedlings being cultivated under banks of fluorescent lights.

 

 And six women were chained to the cinder-block wall behind them. All appeared to be in their third trimester and ready to give birth at any time.

 

 But unlike the well kept plants being cultivated under the lights, these women had been abandoned in the dark. Jak found a light switch that turned on a single bulb in an old ceiling fixture, and the women cringed under the dim light of the low-wattage light. The floor was cold and wet, stinking of feces and urine, and crawling with bugs that seemed to roam over the women's bodies with a purpose—as if the living beings were simply part of the terrain.

 

 Not surprising, the bodies of the women were covered with sores and scabs. Their flesh was pale white and pasty in texture, like the skin Jak had seen on hundreds of muties over the years.

 

 And then there were their eyes…

 

 They were full of fear, terrified that they'd be beaten, raped or otherwise abused. If the baron had brought women down to this place to break their spirit and obliterate their will to resist him, he had succeeded magnificently.

 

 These women were waiting to die as much as they were waiting to give birth.

 

 "Which one your sister?" Jak asked.

 

 Clarissa stared at the six women with a confused look on her face. "I'm not sure," she said, sounding afraid and just a little bit desperate.

 

 Jak wasn't surprised. These women barely looked human.

 

 "Melanie?"

 

 Jak didn't wait for one of them to answer. He began unlocking all the women.

 

 "Is that you, Clarissa?" the second woman from the end called out.

 

 "What's going on?" another woman asked.

 

 "What has happened?"

 

 "Who are you?"

 

 Clarissa lifted her sister off the damp and dirty floor. Her sister, Melanie, was unable to stand straight after months of crouching on the cold hard floor, but Clarissa bent to put her arms around her.

 

 "You came back," Melanie said.

 

 "I never left." Clarissa was near tears.

 

 "What?"

 

 "I stayed outside the farm, waiting for the chance to rescue you."

 

 "Who is he?" Melanie asked. By now the other five women were on their shaky feet, as well, and they all seemed to want to know the answer to that question, too.

 

 "This is Jak Lauren," Clarissa explained, drying her sister's eyes.

 

 Jak gave them a slight wave.

 

 "He and his friends have freed the slaves."

 

 "Free?" one of the women asked.

 

 Jak nodded. He pointed to the stairs leading out of the dungeon and then out of the building. "This way."

 

 THE MORNING SUN WAS just beginning to peek over the eastern horizon. It felt warm and comforting after a long, dark night full of chilling.

 

 In the growing light, Ryan and Mildred ran to the back of the building and could see several people running into the orchard, heading for the far corner of the fence.

 

 Most of them were out of range by now, but a few stragglers were still within their reach.

 

 "Can you take him down without killing him?" Ryan asked Mildred.

 

 Mildred took her shooter's stance and followed the running man's route closely. And then she fired a shot. The man stumbled, pitched forward, and then rolled up against an apple tree. He didn't get up.

 

 Mildred and Ryan ran to catch up to him. When they arrived, the man was backed up against the stump. Mildred's shot had torn up his left calf and broke a bone or two, but the wound wasn't fatal.

 

 "Who are you people?" Ryan asked. "Where do you come from?"

 

 The man didn't seem interested in answering. Mildred pointed her ZKR at the man's head, but that didn't seem to make any difference.

 

 "We're not sec men," Ryan said. "We've been fighting on the same side, against the baron." That seemed to catch the man's interest, but Ryan didn't have time to slowly win him over. He reared back and hit him square in the jaw with the back of his SIG-Sauer. "Your party captured one of our group. I want her back."

 

 The man was slow to answer, so Ryan prepared to give him another blow.

 

 "Wait," he said.

 

 "I'm waiting."

 

 "We're from Reichel ville. We needed breeders, new blood for the survival of the ville."

 

 "Where is Reichel ville?"

 

 "On Erie Lake. We've camped on the north shore of the lake, at Fort Erie. That's where the others are headed now."

 

 "How long ago?"

 

 "A few minutes, maybe more. I don't know. I got separated. They left without me."

 

 Ryan looked up at Mildred. "I'm going after them."

 

 "We could all go together," Mildred offered.

 

 "No time," Ryan said. "We have to go now."

 

 "Then I'm going with you, but we need to let the others know where we've gone."

 

 Ryan looked at the wounded raider. "I need you to do something for me."

 

 "A favor?" the man asked, through swollen lips.

 

 "Yes. I need you to let the others know where we've gone."

 

 "What if I do?"

 

 "Then you can tell them that Ryan Cawdor said they have to take you with them, to meet up with the others from your ville."

 

 "How do I know they'll do that?"

 

 "If you give them my name, they'll do it."

 

 Mildred nodded.

 

 "All right."

 

 Ryan and Mildred were gone without another word.

 

 WHEN JAK and the women reached the top of the stairs and stepped through the door leading out of the dungeon, the freed women took cautious steps into the hallway, as if they didn't believe they'd actually been emancipated.

 

 "You're free to go," Clarissa explained.

 

 "Where's the baron?" her sister asked.

 

 "Missing right now," Clarissa said.

 

 "We can't be free if he's still alive."

 

 "We're going to look for him."

 

 "Chill when find," Jak added.

 

 "I know where he's hiding," Clarissa's sister, Melanie, said. "There's a bunker at the end of this hallway. I heard someone go down that way a few hours ago. It has to be him."

 

 "Take me there," Jak said.

 

 The other women suddenly began moving in the other direction, not wanting any part of the baron, not even to see him get chilled.

 

 "Follow me," Melanie said.

 

  

 

 Chapter Forty-Two

 

  

 

 Ryan and Mildred jumped the fence and were on the raiders' trail, but weren't any closer to rescuing Krysty.

 

 Every mile or so, a straggler would fall behind the main group, fire several shots in their general direction and then disappear into the underbrush. The guerrilla tactics didn't give Ryan and Mildred the time or chance to fight, but were slowing their progress enough to let the group, and Krysty, slip farther and farther away.

 

 Currently they were pinned down behind an outcrop between two stands of trees. The trail wound to the left slightly, and the shots were coming from somewhere to the right.

 

 Ryan took his brass naval telescope from his coat and scanned the terrain in front of him, but he couldn't pick the shooter out of the shadows.

 

 "We know his general area," Mildred stated. "Let me see if I can come around from behind and flush him out."

 

 "Have to hurry," Ryan said.

 

 Mildred started to move, but Ryan held her back.

 

 "No, I'm going," he said. "You stay here and try to keep him pinned down."

 

 Mildred nodded.

 

 Ryan left without another word.

 

 He moved quickly through the trees and waist high weeds, making sure to keep some cover between himself and the direction the shots had come from, while always on the lookout for movement in the surrounding underbrush.

 

 Ryan raised the SIG-Sauer as he neared the spot where he judged the shots to be coming from.

 

 Mildred had been firing, as well, throwing a well spaced sequence of rounds at the shooter to keep him from moving off.

 

 When Mildred had fired her last shot and had to reload, Ryan focused on the forest before him, looking for any movement.

 

 As he'd expected, the shooter used the respite to return fire in Mildred's direction, and the blast from the muzzle of his weapon allowed Ryan to spot him. It was a young man, a kid really, not much older than Jak. It was a shame to chill the teenager, but Ryan had no choice. The shooter was keeping him from rescuing Krysty and had to be eliminated.

 

 Ryan squeezed off two shots from the SIG-Sauer, the first shot hitting the shooter in the shoulder, the second putting a tiny black spot in his left ear and blowing out a huge hole on the right side of his head.

 

 After several minutes of blasterfire, the area was filled with an odd silence. Mildred came over the top of the outcrop and approached Ryan in a more direct route than the one he'd taken to get to the shooter.

 

 "We've lost a few minutes," Ryan said.

 

 "Then let's not lose any more."

 

 They turned and ran along the trail. Ryan wasn't as good a tracker as Jak, but there seemed to be enough freshly trampled grass and weeds to indicate that the raiders had been through here recently.

 

 He hoped he was right.

 

 "THIS DOOR LEADS into the bunker," Melanie said.

 

 Clarissa checked it. "Locked."

 

 "Stand back," Jak told them.

 

 As the women complied, the albino teenager raised the guard's pump-action blaster and leveled it on the door's locking mechanism.

 

 The first shot mangled the door's handle.

 

 Jak pumped another round into the blaster's chamber and fired again. This time the lock was pushed inward, twisting it inside the door and away from the frame. Jak lowered the blaster and gave the door a push with his finger.

 

 It opened.

 

 He shouldered the longblaster and led the two women inside, his Colt Python at the ready.

 

 Stairs led down to a second, much heavier, door. They tried this one, and it was unlocked.

 

 Opening the door slowly, and silently, they stepped into a dimly lit room.

 

 The baron was in the room at the bottom of the stairs, lying on a satin-covered bed, in the company of two women. He was bound to the bed with lengths of nylon around his ankles and wrists. One of the women was sucking the baron's cock while the other one was straddling his head.

 

 Against one of the concrete walls was a wine rack that held upward of one hundred bottles of different wines. There was a refrigerator, walk-in freezer, stove, water stores and washroom facilities. A few blasters hung from racks on the walls, but the baron wasn't going to make any of those anytime soon.

 

 Someone turned on a light, and the two women looked up in surprise. The baron looked surprised, too, and tried for the Luger on the table next to the bed. His hand got close, but with his right arm tied to one of the bedposts, it was well out of reach.

 

 Jak raised the Python, making sure the baron's head was in his sights.

 

 "Don't chill him!" Melanie said, walking over the table next to the bed and picking up the Luger. "I want to do it."

 

 Jak looked at Clarissa. She nodded, and Jak lowered the Python and holstered it.

 

 "Get away from the bed and I'll let you live," Melanie told the two women.

 

 The two women scrambled off the bed.

 

 The baron said nothing.

 

 Melanie pointed the Luger at the baron's head. "Didn't expect to find yourself in this situation, did you, Baron Fox?"

 

 The baron shook his head.

 

 "At my mercy." Melanie paused and traced a line on Fox's body with the barrel of the Luger, starting from his right temple and moving down past his neck, over his chest and abdomen, and finally ending up between his legs.

 

 His erection was still there.

 

 "You find this exciting, don't you, you sick fuck!"

 

 The baron said nothing.

 

 "I bet you'd love for me to shove this gun up your ass and fuck you with it, wouldn't you?"

 

 The baron only smiled.

 

 "I knew it," Melanie said coyly. "But not yet."

 

 The baron's eyes closed as if the anticipation was too much to bear.

 

 "First I want you to suck on it." She raised the blaster and brought the barrel to his mouth. "Kiss it."

 

 The baron kissed the end of the blaster.

 

 "Now lick it."

 

 The baron did what he'd been told, seeming to enjoy what he was doing.

 

 "Now put your mouth over it and suck on it."

 

 The baron opened his mouth, and Melanie pulled the trigger.

 

 Gore and gray matter splattered on the wall behind the bed.

 

 The two women who had been rutting with the baron minutes before screamed.

 

 Melanie turned to Clarissa and Jak. "I'm done. Let's get out of here."

 

 RYAN AND MILDRED came to a rise in the terrain that gave them a good overview of the land in front of them. In the distance they could see a large body of water, which had to be Erie Lake, and which was obviously where the raiders were heading.

 

 But the lake was still several miles away, and they hadn't caught sight of the raiders for a long while.

 

 "Where do you think they could have gone to?" Mildred asked.

 

 "There," Ryan answered, pointing to the southwest. He drew his extended finger back and made a fist. "Fireblast!"

 

 He could see the members of the group clearly as they crossed a weed-infested, two-lane roadway. There were at least two dozen in the party, and in the center of them all was the unmistakable red hair of Krysty Wroth.

 

 "We're farther away from them now than when we started," Mildred stated.

 

 Ryan nodded. "The straggler we chilled was a good man. He led us down a different trail to give them the chance to get away."

 

 "We'll catch them," Mildred said.

 

 "If it's the last thing we do," Ryan vowed.

 

 THE JOB OF CLEARING sec men from the courtyard and securing it had been completed. J.B. had two shells of questionable quality left for the 37 mm cannon, and each .50 caliber had less than a dozen rounds. They still had plenty of ammo for their blasters, but it looked as if the firefights were over for now.

 

 J.B. had pulled the wag back to the main gate so they could cover any of the approaches and make sure anyone trying to get out wouldn't be cut down by any sec men still in the complex. They had been waiting at the gate for almost a half hour, but there was no sign of Ryan and Mildred, or Jak and Clarissa.

 

 "It might not be my place to suggest such a thing," Doc began, "but considering that none of our friendly forces have made their presence known to us, perhaps we should make a search of the grounds."

 

 "We could do it in a wag," Dean suggested.

 

 "I've thought of that," J.B. said, "but I just know that as soon as I move from here they'll show up."

 

 As if on cue, Jak, Clarissa and three women stepped through the front doors of the main building.

 

 "Ah, right on time," Doc said.

 

 As the group approached, J.B. kept his eyes fixed on the building. "Where's Mildred and Ryan?"

 

 "Went after Krysty," Jak said. "Not back yet?"

 

 J.B. shook his head. "All right, hop on back, we'll search the grounds for them."

 

 Jak helped Clarissa and Melanie onto the wag. The two women who had been in the baron's bunker wanted on, too, but Jak shook his head.

 

 Just then a weak voice could be heard saying a familiar name.

 

 "Ryan!" the voice said. "Ryan Cawdor!"

 

 J.B. turned to look at Clarissa. "Do you know this man?"

 

 "No," she stated. "Never seen him before."

 

 Dean was the first off the wag, his blaster drawn and pointed precisely at the center of the man's forehead.

 

 "Where is he?" Dean shouted. "Where's my father?"

 

 "Ryan, Ryan Cawdor."

 

 Dean looked as if he was getting angry, thrusting the blaster hard against the man's face.

 

 J.B. got out of the wag and ran around to where the man was standing. "How do you know the name Ryan Cawdor?"

 

 "He shot me with his blaster," the man said, "and told me to give you a message."

 

 "What's the message?"

 

 The man fell to one knee. "Said you would take me with you when I told you."

 

 J.B. looked at the others on the wag, then nodded. "All right, what's the message?"

 

 "I was a member of a raiding party from Reichel ville. We came for breeders and one of the ones we took was the redhead. Ryan Cawdor and Mildred went after them."

 

 "Where are they headed?"

 

 "We came here on foot, but our boats landed at Fort Erie, on the north shore of the lake."

 

 "How long since they went?"

 

 "Hour, mebbe more."

 

 "We can meet them there," Clarissa said.

 

 J.B. stood up. "What do you mean?"

 

 "We drove through Fort Erie on our way here," she said. "We can get there in the wag and beat Ryan and the raiders to the shore. We can be waiting for them when they arrive."

 

 J.B. considered it.

 

 "Do you think this jumble of bolts and metal is fit to make the journey?" Doc asked.

 

 J.B. looked at the wag. It had taken some hits, was leaking radiator fluid and the brakes were gone. The engine was running rough, too, but they had enough fuel and everything else seemed to still be in working order.

 

 "Yeah," he announced. "We can make it."

 

 "Hot pipe!" Dean said, leading a cheer from the rest of the friends.

 

 "Doc and Jak, get this guy onto the wag!"

 

 "We should take them, too," Clarissa suggested. "The women will come in handy."

 

 J.B. was silent a moment, thinking. "Good idea."

 

 Jak and Doc put the raider on the back of the wag, then helped the two women on, as well.

 

 "After you, ladies," Doc said, bowing his head.

 

 The two women smiled and looked at each other. " 'Ladies,' he said," one of them echoed Doc's words.

 

 Jak and Doc climbed up onto the back of the crowded wag.

 

 "Hang on, everyone," J.B. shouted. "It's going to be a bumpy ride."

 

 He put the wag in gear, and they were off.

 

  

 

 Chapter Forty-Three

 

  

 

 Ryan and Mildred had made up their lost ground. They were directly behind the group now, and could begin picking off members of the party the next time they stopped for rest.

 

 And that would be coming soon, since the air had become filled with the smell and feel of a large body of water close by. They had to be within a mile of Erie Lake, and if Ryan and Mildred were going to make a try for Krysty, they'd have to do it soon.

 

 If the raiders made it to their boats, who knew when Ryan might see her again?

 

 "Maybe we should head straight for the shore and wait for them there," Mildred suggested. "I can take them out one at a time as they come out of the woods."

 

 "That wouldn't stop them from hurting Krysty," Ryan countered. "We'll wait for them in their boats. If they don't turn over Krysty, we'll fill them with holes."

 

 "The boats, or the raiders?"

 

 "Both."

 

 "Now, that's a plan," Mildred quipped.

 

 Just then a twig snapped somewhere to their left. It sounded like a patrol, or perhaps a straggler had doubled back again to give the rest of them a better chance to reach their boats.

 

 Ryan moved cautiously in the direction the sound had come from.

 

 Mildred took his right flank, the ZKR out in front of her.

 

 There was a second movement. The leaves on the branches of a sickly looking tree just ahead trembled as if something had passed beneath them.

 

 And then another branch flicked unnaturally, this time closer to the two of them.

 

 They dropped to their knees and readied for a firefight.

 

 "Dad?"

 

 The voice was familiar.

 

 "Millie?"

 

 Ryan looked at Mildred.

 

 "It sounds like Dean," she whispered.

 

 "A trick?"

 

 "I doubt it"

 

 "Dean!" Ryan said.

 

 "Over here."

 

 They made their way over to where they thought the voice was coming from, but still kept their weapons ready.

 

 And then they came to a slight clearing and Dean was indeed there, looking well. Doc was also there, and Jak was just returning from a recce in the other direction.

 

 "How did you get here?" Ryan asked.

 

 "Wag," the boy said. "Only way to travel."

 

 "Ah, my dear Ryan, and dearest Mildred, how good to see you," Doc said.

 

 "I hate to admit it," Mildred responded, "but I'm glad to see you, too, you old bag of wind."

 

 "Is Krysty with you?" Ryan asked. There would be plenty of time for proper greetings later.

 

 "No," Jak answered. "Still waiting for raiders."

 

 "Then let's get moving."

 

 SEC CHIEF GANLEY USHERED the raiders past, counting heads as they went. There were thirty-one now, significantly more than the number that left Reichel ville a couple of days before, but of those thirty-one, ten were new blood. Not bad considering where those ten had come from, and what they'd had to do to get them.

 

 Now it was just a simple matter of getting into their boats and paddling across the lake to the southern shore. Once they were there, they could spend a day or two recovering from their trip and getting to know the new members of the ville… especially the redhead.

 

 Ganley would never have taken a breeder for himself, but it was testimony to the amount of respect his raiders had for him that several of them went out of their way to acquire this gift. She was beautiful—gorgeous was probably a more apt description—and she was strong willed, feisty and in excellent physical shape. Unlike the other freed slaves, the redhead didn't seem to be so enthusiastic about living in Reichel ville, but she'd come around. Once they reached the south shore, the sec chief would have the time to charm her.

 

 She would learn to appreciate him, especially when she saw the reception he'd get on their return to Reichel ville. Once they left camp on the south shore it would be just a single day's journey to the ville, where there would be a hero's welcome for the victorious sec chief and his band of fearless raiders.

 

 It was all so close to him, he could taste the sweetness of the triumph on his tongue.

 

 The boats were less than a hundred yards away.

 

 Past that, open water.

 

 Just then, blasterfire cut a line in the sandy shore in front of the raiders. Fountains of dirt rose up from the ground, sending them all running and jumping for cover.

 

 The burst lasted just a few seconds.

 

 It was followed by silence.

 

 Then came a voice.

 

 "You have something we want!"

 

 Ganley looked around, wondering what it could be.

 

 RYAN LET THE WORDS linger in the air for a few moments, then repeated them. "You have something we want!"

 

 "What is it?" came the reply.

 

 "The woman with the long red hair. She's one of us, and you're not going to Reichel or any other ville until you hand her over."

 

 "Fuck you!" a voice said, different from the first.

 

 "We captured her like the others. She's coming with us," another voice said.

 

 Ryan was losing his patience, but he didn't want to give the task of trading for Krysty's life to anyone else. "We have two women here who want to join your group. We'll turn them over to you for one of ours."

 

 There was silence for a long time.

 

 "If you don't agree to this trade, we have a cannon pointed directly at your two boats. If I don't hear the word 'yes' from you in the next five seconds, the weapon'll make sure none of you'll be going home."

 

 "One!"

 

 "An offer they can't refuse," Mildred muttered under her breath.

 

 "Two!"

 

 A moment of silence.

 

 "Three!"

 

 "Yes! Yes!" shouted several people in the group.

 

 Doc helped the two women and the raider down from the back of the wag.

 

 And then Krysty appeared out of the bushes.

 

 "Go!" Ryan told the two women and the raider.

 

 They passed Krysty along the way.

 

 A man stepped out onto the beach. He looked to be the raiders' leader. "We'll be on our way now."

 

 Ryan nodded.

 

 The rest of the raiders hurried past the man to the water. The two women were welcomed into the group and then directed toward the waiting boats.

 

 Krysty ran toward her friends, falling into Ryan's arms, where she held on to him for a very long time.

 

  

 

 Epilogue

 

  

 

 They kept the cannon trained on the boats until they were out of range, and then out of sight.

 

 The companions offered to take Clarissa and Melanie to a ville on the east coast, but they wanted to go back to the farm, where they thought they might have a chance to make something of their lives, especially now that Baron Fox was gone.

 

 "I've got my sister back now, thanks to you," Clarissa said, riding in the back of the wag, "and I think I can look after her just as well on the farm as I can anywhere else. There's food and shelter there, medical facilities, electricity, clean water…and a lot of my friends will still be there."

 

 "It will be a different place now," Mildred said, "but I think you'll be able to make it."

 

 "Good fighter, smart leader," Jak said.

 

 "You could stay with us, Jak," Clarissa suggested shyly, smiling.

 

 The albino teenager considered the offer, then shook his head. "Had wife, child once. No more for me." He looked at the others in the wag. "Stay with friends."

 

 "I understand," Clarissa said. "Anyway, I'll have a niece or nephew to take care of in a little while."

 

 "I wouldn't be surprised if you have one of each to contend with," Mildred said with a smile. "Girl, you are ready to pop!"

 

 They all laughed at that.

 

 Overhearing the friendly banter, Krysty leaned closer to Ryan and put her head on his shoulder. "Strange, huh?"

 

 "What is?" Ryan asked.

 

 "Life."

 

 "What's strange about it?"

 

 "Well, even here in the Deathlands, where death and destruction are a part of the everyday routine, life still finds a way to carry on."

 

 THEY SAID THEIR GOODBYES and turned the wag around. A little less than half a tank of fuel remained. It wasn't enough to get them anywhere significant, but it could at least get them someplace safe to spend the night.

 

 They could all use a little rest before moving on to the nearest redoubt.

 

 The Falls ville was a good bet. If nothing else, they could take the time to admire the falls. Although a mere trickle compared to what it had been in predark days, the flow of water was still pretty impressive.

 

 J.B. shifted the wag into gear and headedout.

 

 WHEN THE WAG was gone from the farm complex and he was sure the outlanders wouldn't be returning, Norman Bauer stepped out of the shadows of the woods across the road from the front gate.

 

 He climbed onto the road and stood there waiting with his ledger under his arm until three sec men came out of the woods to join him.

 

 He looked up at the sign that read Fox Farm. It had been riddled by blasterfire and the secondF was about to fall from its perch.

 

 He'd be changing it anyway.

 

 Bauer ville suited the place best anyway. After all, that was the name of the man who'd really been running the complex these past few years.