Child Of Slaughter. James Axler

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СКАЧАТЬ eyes flicked to one side, and he hesitated. It was then Doc knew that no matter what the mutie told him, Ryan and company had acquitted themselves well, as always.

      “We put them in their place,” Exo snapped. “They’ll think twice before coming after us again.”

      Secretly, Doc exulted. He knew Ryan and the others well enough to know that if they were still breathing, they’d never stop coming after the muties who’d kidnapped their friend.

      “Now get up.” Exo stuck the lollipop back in his mouth and waved Doc’s swordstick overhead. “Stop sitting there like some kind of whipped dog.”

      Doc struggled to his feet. When he got there, he felt wobbly and paused to steady himself. “It is hard not to, when one is whipped to the point of unconsciousness.”

      Exo glared at him, and Doc thought he might get beaten again, but then the glare turned into a broad grin. “Ha!” Exo clapped Doc hard on the back. “You really know how to make me laugh, Doc! Even with a faulty memory, you still crack me up.”

      Doc winced. Exo had struck his back on a particularly sore spot. “Glad to hear it.” Though Exo had beaten him with a vengeance just a short time ago, Doc made an effort to behave in a congenial way. Trapped as he was, weaponless and without allies, he knew it would be better to play along with the moods of his captors instead of resisting.

      Just then, another mutie—part of the rank and file—ran up and chattered in Exo’s ear. Exo nodded without smiling and waved him aside. “Let’s get moving.” He met the mutie messenger’s gaze and gestured in Doc’s direction. “You’re his babysitter, starting now.” A sneer curled his lips. “Anything happens to him, you die.”

      As Exo walked away, the new mutie stepped up to Doc, looking tense. “So.” He had a longblaster slung over his back on a leather strap; when he swung it around, Doc saw that it was a Winchester. Unlike most of the weapons carried by the hodgepodge mutie army, the Winchester was in pristine shape. The walnut stock gleamed as if it had just been polished. “I’m not happy about this.”

      “What is your name?” Doc lifted an eyebrow.

      “Ankh.” The mutie jabbed the point of the Winchester at Doc. “And if I had my way, I’d just as soon shoot you on the spot and leave you here.”

      Doc frowned. “And why is that, if I may ask?”

      “Because I know.” Ankh jabbed again. “Out of this whole gang of morons, I seem to be the only one who knows.”

      “Knows what?” Doc asked.

      Ankh leaned closer and lowered his voice. “That you’re no more Dr. William Hammersmith than I am.”

      Doc swallowed hard. He had the distinct impression that the only reason he was still alive was that the muties thought he was Hammersmith. If Ankh had an inkling of his true identity, how much longer could Doc expect to live?

      “That’s right,” Ankh said. “I can see right through you.”

      Doc toyed with various options and decided to play dumb, at least for now. “I do not understand. Perhaps you are the one who’s mistaken.”

      “Do you want to escape Exo and never come back, whoever you are?” Ankh asked.

      “Call me Doc. And yes.”

      Ankh nodded. “Then, we both want the same thing.” He looked both ways, then leaned closer. “And if you don’t force me to kill you, mebbe we’ll manage to get what we want.”

      Doc locked eyes with Ankh, taking his measure. Ankh’s eyes were dark brown, almost black, and very steady. Whatever his true intentions might be, he seemed reasonable on the surface. Doc decided he might just be his best chance for survival and escape.

      “Never let it be said that I prefer, as a rule, dying over living another day.” Doc bowed his head slightly. “You have my attention, friend Ankh.”

      “Friend? I have no friends. Not anymore.”

      Doc nodded.

      “I can turn an alliance with you to my advantage,” Ankh said. “But make no mistake, I can turn your death to my advantage, as well.”

       Chapter Twelve

      It was late afternoon by the time Ryan and his companions ended their sweeps of the area, satisfied that the muties had moved on. Whatever the muties’ objective, other than slaughtering the outlanders, they seemed to have given up on it.

      The companions—and Union—gathered at a predetermined rendezvous point a mile up the lava channel. The forest of spikes was thinner there, giving them a clearer view of the surrounding hills and flats.

      From what Ryan could see, at the moment, there wasn’t a mutie in sight. He and the others knew better than to think they could truly relax, but at least they could take a breath, reload their weapons and assess the situation.

      “Too bad muties gone,” Jak said. “Was just getting started.”

      “Speaking of, where in the nuking hell did they go?” J.B. took off his fedora and wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. “Place was swarming with them, and now they’re all gone.”

      “Just like before,” Mildred added. “When they took Doc.”

      Ryan, who’d been checking on Krysty, looked in Union’s direction. Though she’d brightened up briefly once before, when she’d gone off with Jak to shoot muties, she was back to her taciturn self. Though she stood at the edge of the group, close enough to hear every word, she didn’t react or participate. She just kept staring into the distance as a light breeze fluttered loose strands of her blond hair.

      “Union.” Ryan said her name loudly to get her attention. “You seem to know something about this place.”

      Union’s eyes slid toward him for a moment. She made a movement that might have been a shrug, but it was hard to say for sure. Then she went back to staring into space.

      Ryan shook his head at Krysty, then turned away from her. “Hey! I’m talking to you!” He walked over to stand in front of the woman, blocking her view of the landscape. “How about helping us out here?”

      When she looked at him, her eyes were glacial. “I already did, didn’t I? Or don’t those muties I killed count?”

      Ryan let the remark pass without comment. “You seem to know a few things about this place. The Shift, you called it.”

      This time, her shrug was plain to see. “What about it?”

      “For starters, where did the muties run off to?” Ryan asked. “It was like they just disappeared.”

      “How should I know?” Union smirked as if his question had been a stupid one. “They could be just about anywhere.”

      “How so?” Ryan asked. “Some kind of underground tunnel system, maybe?”

      “I СКАЧАТЬ