[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
the rapid arrival of the three invaders took them by surprise. They managed no
more than nine or ten ill-aimed, desperate rounds before the hail of lead from
the Uzi, the SIG-Sauer and the Czech target revolver cut them down in the
sewers.
Two at least were only wounded, but there was no time now to worry about
chilling them. Speed was the essential element in Ryan's plan. Lose that and
all was lost.
THE TWO MUTIES STOOD side by side, uncertain how their star prisoner had freed
herself from the strong chain, and the mewling boy as well. They'd heard
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d17 Fury's Pilgrims the warning bells going and had just caught the sound of
shooting. There was obviously a rescue bid under way.
But where and who?
"Better chain the bitch-god again," said one of them, moving to lean over
Krysty.
"Yeah. I'll "
Her words died in an explosion of staggering pain in her lower back, a
ferocious blow that knocked her to her knees, the gun dropping from her
fingers to clatter on
It didn't clatter.
"Why?" she gasped.
Dean had catfooted behind her and struck her with all of his wiry strength, a
brutal double-fisted, clubbing blow, aimed at the woman's kidneys. The boy
twisted around like an eel to snatch up the dropping Browning.
"Why the fuck not?" he gritted, shooting her through the side of the head.
The other guard, bending over Krysty, started to turn.
But the unconscious figure at her feet had grabbed at her ankles, a weak,
feeble effort that she was easily able to break free from.
But the half second's delay was enough for Dean to shoot her through the side
of the neck.
The powerful handgun's booming explosion filled the basement, making Krysty
wince from its violence. It threw the second mutie guard across the room,
stumbling over the flailing corpse of her colleague.
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d17 Fury's Pilgrims
Dean hesitated, waiting until he was sure that both the women were dead or
dying. He bolstered his own blaster, also collecting his favored
turquoise-hilted knife from the waistband of one of the fallen women. The
short-barreled Smith &
Wesson 640 that they'd stolen from Krysty was also retrieved and stuck into
his leather belt.
"Well done," she breathed. "Ryan'll be real proud of& of you."
"You helped, "he said.
"Sure."
"Can you stand?"
"Try me, Dean. Give me your hand and& and I'll see."
"HELLFIRE AND BLOODY sodding bastard slumgullion! Rat's piss and llama crap!"
"Something wrong, Doc?" Michael blinked awake, wondering for a moment where on
the good earth he was, then recognizing the chron-control suite.
"Wrong? Wrong? Something wrong? I sometimes wonder, Emily, whether the
Lord contrived to overlook you when it came to the handing out of the supply
of brains. Of course something is wrong, woman! Something is always wrong."
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Michael stood, rubbing at his eyes. "What's the time?"
"What's the time, Mr. Wolf? How little Rachel liked to play that game. The
time is late. The cock hath crowed thrice. And I can find no way around this
wretched time delay."
"What's that do?"
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d17 Fury's Pilgrims
Doc still wouldn't look directly at the young man, speaking, instead, to the
far side of the big room. "I had hoped to set up all the temporal and spatial
coordinates by now, then utilize a short delay before the system becomes
operational and the jumps begin."
"Short?"
"Fifteen minutes. No more. Simply enough for me " he paused, " for to us
climb into the capsules and ready ourselves."
"So, why doesn't that work? You can still get us home, can't you?"
Though Michael was aware in his heart that it didn't somehow seem quite so
important now. Nil-Vanity was no longer the attractive fortress it had been
all his life. In the past couple of days he'd seen new sights and experienced
a dazzling, stupefying range of new experiences.
Not all pleasant, by any means.
But all challenging.
"We can still get home. It's the place, Emily, where they always have to take
you in, is it not? But there is a persnickety glitch in the system. I can set
it to make the chron procedure, but I can't reduce the countdown below two and
a half hours. I
can set it for ten seconds, but that's really nowhere near long enough. Then
the numerals leap up to one hundred and fifty minutes."
"That's all right, isn't it? We can wait and watch the clock ticking on down.
Then get ready when it gets to the last ten minutes."
"Yes, we can, can, can. Can you do the cancan, can you?"
"So, why not do that, Doc?"
The note of exasperation still rode high in the old man's voice. "That's what
I'm
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d17 Fury's Pilgrims doing, for Christ's sake!"
"So, it'll be two and a half hours and then we're history."
"No. Look at the countdown clock on the wall. It's already running."
Michael glanced up. The clock was rectangular, nearly three feet long by
eighteen inches high. It showed days, hours, minutes, seconds, tenths of
seconds and hundredths of seconds, the latter section a blur of movement.
But it was currently at two hours and twenty-three minutes.
And some seconds.
DEAN LED KRYSTY through the basements and cellars of old Chicago. As they
moved cautiously and slowly along, they passed through the jagged holes, feet
wide, where passages had been knocked from building to building, constructing
the Midnites' maze.
The boy was following the noise. Once or twice there was gunfire, but mostly
it was the flow of movement from the chalk-faced muties. Running past in ones
and twos, all of them were heading in roughly the same direction.
They made sufficient noise for him to lead Krysty, unresisting, into side
culverts and ancient drains, waiting in the dank, trembling stillness until
they'd gone by.
"Feeling stronger," she said.
"Can you walk some on your own, Krysty? Want to try it?"
Page 131
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"Soon."
There was the sound of a firefight, with the unmistakable rippling of the Uzi
on full-auto.
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Pilgrims.html (275 of 287) [1/3/2005 12:24:50 AM]
d17 Fury's Pilgrims
"Getting closer," Dean said, trying to encourage Krysty as well as himself.
"Soon be back with the others."
DEAN'S RUN OF GOOD LUCK evaporated three or four minutes later.
He had stopped at a multiple junction, trying to ease Krysty's weight a
little, when he heard the cold voice from his right, emerging from one of the
black caverns.
"Rats are running right up to us, sisters." It was Billy, her Ruger Blackhawk
steady on him. The hugely tall Jackie smiled vaguely at him at her side,
holding an indeterminate little .22, a chromed Saturday-night special, in her
hamlike fist.
Completing the trio of leering harpies was the pockmarked Laurie, two of her
array of derringers drawn and cocked.
"Let us go," Dean said.
"No way, cockling."
"Let him go and I'll come back with you," Krysty offered weakly.
"Reckon you've blown your chance, sweetheart." Billy grinned. "Blown it right
out of your fucking fat ass."
"We got friends coming," Dean protested, trying to calculate his chances of a
clear shot.
"Too late," Laurie said. "Way too late."
And the shooting started.
Chapter Forty-Six
file:///C|/3226%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20E...Deathlands%2017%20-%20Fury's%20 [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl akte20.pev.pl
the rapid arrival of the three invaders took them by surprise. They managed no
more than nine or ten ill-aimed, desperate rounds before the hail of lead from
the Uzi, the SIG-Sauer and the Czech target revolver cut them down in the
sewers.
Two at least were only wounded, but there was no time now to worry about
chilling them. Speed was the essential element in Ryan's plan. Lose that and
all was lost.
THE TWO MUTIES STOOD side by side, uncertain how their star prisoner had freed
herself from the strong chain, and the mewling boy as well. They'd heard
file:///C|/3226%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20E...Deathlands%2017%20-%20Fury's%20
Pilgrims.html (271 of 287) [1/3/2005 12:24:50 AM]
d17 Fury's Pilgrims the warning bells going and had just caught the sound of
shooting. There was obviously a rescue bid under way.
But where and who?
"Better chain the bitch-god again," said one of them, moving to lean over
Krysty.
"Yeah. I'll "
Her words died in an explosion of staggering pain in her lower back, a
ferocious blow that knocked her to her knees, the gun dropping from her
fingers to clatter on
It didn't clatter.
"Why?" she gasped.
Dean had catfooted behind her and struck her with all of his wiry strength, a
brutal double-fisted, clubbing blow, aimed at the woman's kidneys. The boy
twisted around like an eel to snatch up the dropping Browning.
"Why the fuck not?" he gritted, shooting her through the side of the head.
The other guard, bending over Krysty, started to turn.
But the unconscious figure at her feet had grabbed at her ankles, a weak,
feeble effort that she was easily able to break free from.
But the half second's delay was enough for Dean to shoot her through the side
of the neck.
The powerful handgun's booming explosion filled the basement, making Krysty
wince from its violence. It threw the second mutie guard across the room,
stumbling over the flailing corpse of her colleague.
file:///C|/3226%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20E...Deathlands%2017%20-%20Fury's%20
Pilgrims.html (272 of 287) [1/3/2005 12:24:50 AM]
d17 Fury's Pilgrims
Dean hesitated, waiting until he was sure that both the women were dead or
dying. He bolstered his own blaster, also collecting his favored
turquoise-hilted knife from the waistband of one of the fallen women. The
short-barreled Smith &
Wesson 640 that they'd stolen from Krysty was also retrieved and stuck into
his leather belt.
"Well done," she breathed. "Ryan'll be real proud of& of you."
"You helped, "he said.
"Sure."
"Can you stand?"
"Try me, Dean. Give me your hand and& and I'll see."
"HELLFIRE AND BLOODY sodding bastard slumgullion! Rat's piss and llama crap!"
"Something wrong, Doc?" Michael blinked awake, wondering for a moment where on
the good earth he was, then recognizing the chron-control suite.
"Wrong? Wrong? Something wrong? I sometimes wonder, Emily, whether the
Lord contrived to overlook you when it came to the handing out of the supply
of brains. Of course something is wrong, woman! Something is always wrong."
Page 130
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Michael stood, rubbing at his eyes. "What's the time?"
"What's the time, Mr. Wolf? How little Rachel liked to play that game. The
time is late. The cock hath crowed thrice. And I can find no way around this
wretched time delay."
"What's that do?"
file:///C|/3226%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20E...Deathlands%2017%20-%20Fury's%20
Pilgrims.html (273 of 287) [1/3/2005 12:24:50 AM]
d17 Fury's Pilgrims
Doc still wouldn't look directly at the young man, speaking, instead, to the
far side of the big room. "I had hoped to set up all the temporal and spatial
coordinates by now, then utilize a short delay before the system becomes
operational and the jumps begin."
"Short?"
"Fifteen minutes. No more. Simply enough for me " he paused, " for to us
climb into the capsules and ready ourselves."
"So, why doesn't that work? You can still get us home, can't you?"
Though Michael was aware in his heart that it didn't somehow seem quite so
important now. Nil-Vanity was no longer the attractive fortress it had been
all his life. In the past couple of days he'd seen new sights and experienced
a dazzling, stupefying range of new experiences.
Not all pleasant, by any means.
But all challenging.
"We can still get home. It's the place, Emily, where they always have to take
you in, is it not? But there is a persnickety glitch in the system. I can set
it to make the chron procedure, but I can't reduce the countdown below two and
a half hours. I
can set it for ten seconds, but that's really nowhere near long enough. Then
the numerals leap up to one hundred and fifty minutes."
"That's all right, isn't it? We can wait and watch the clock ticking on down.
Then get ready when it gets to the last ten minutes."
"Yes, we can, can, can. Can you do the cancan, can you?"
"So, why not do that, Doc?"
The note of exasperation still rode high in the old man's voice. "That's what
I'm
file:///C|/3226%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20E...Deathlands%2017%20-%20Fury's%20
Pilgrims.html (274 of 287) [1/3/2005 12:24:50 AM]
d17 Fury's Pilgrims doing, for Christ's sake!"
"So, it'll be two and a half hours and then we're history."
"No. Look at the countdown clock on the wall. It's already running."
Michael glanced up. The clock was rectangular, nearly three feet long by
eighteen inches high. It showed days, hours, minutes, seconds, tenths of
seconds and hundredths of seconds, the latter section a blur of movement.
But it was currently at two hours and twenty-three minutes.
And some seconds.
DEAN LED KRYSTY through the basements and cellars of old Chicago. As they
moved cautiously and slowly along, they passed through the jagged holes, feet
wide, where passages had been knocked from building to building, constructing
the Midnites' maze.
The boy was following the noise. Once or twice there was gunfire, but mostly
it was the flow of movement from the chalk-faced muties. Running past in ones
and twos, all of them were heading in roughly the same direction.
They made sufficient noise for him to lead Krysty, unresisting, into side
culverts and ancient drains, waiting in the dank, trembling stillness until
they'd gone by.
"Feeling stronger," she said.
"Can you walk some on your own, Krysty? Want to try it?"
Page 131
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"Soon."
There was the sound of a firefight, with the unmistakable rippling of the Uzi
on full-auto.
file:///C|/3226%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20E...Deathlands%2017%20-%20Fury's%20
Pilgrims.html (275 of 287) [1/3/2005 12:24:50 AM]
d17 Fury's Pilgrims
"Getting closer," Dean said, trying to encourage Krysty as well as himself.
"Soon be back with the others."
DEAN'S RUN OF GOOD LUCK evaporated three or four minutes later.
He had stopped at a multiple junction, trying to ease Krysty's weight a
little, when he heard the cold voice from his right, emerging from one of the
black caverns.
"Rats are running right up to us, sisters." It was Billy, her Ruger Blackhawk
steady on him. The hugely tall Jackie smiled vaguely at him at her side,
holding an indeterminate little .22, a chromed Saturday-night special, in her
hamlike fist.
Completing the trio of leering harpies was the pockmarked Laurie, two of her
array of derringers drawn and cocked.
"Let us go," Dean said.
"No way, cockling."
"Let him go and I'll come back with you," Krysty offered weakly.
"Reckon you've blown your chance, sweetheart." Billy grinned. "Blown it right
out of your fucking fat ass."
"We got friends coming," Dean protested, trying to calculate his chances of a
clear shot.
"Too late," Laurie said. "Way too late."
And the shooting started.
Chapter Forty-Six
file:///C|/3226%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20E...Deathlands%2017%20-%20Fury's%20 [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]