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They were only a few paces from safety, directly be-hind them. J.B. opened up
with the Uzi, aiming into the mouth of the tunnel where they knew the
con-cealed guns were covering them. Ryan dropped to a crouch, running in a way
that Doc had once remarked greatly reminded him of someone called Groucho,
though he'd never explained why he thought that was highly amusing. As he
darted back toward Krysty and the others, Ryan snapped off two rounds from the
SIG-Sauer, trying to pick off the scurrying figure of the General. But both
missed.
Blasters chattered from the far side of the garage, bullets howling and
ricocheting off the raw stone, but nobody was hurt. Ryan and J.B. landed
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together in the passage, rolling between Krysty and Mildred, who stood holding
the Steyr, unfired.
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"Why didn't& " J.B. began, answering his own question as he scrambled hastily
to his feet. "Course. Me and Ryan were in the way."
There was more shooting from the hidden Kalashnikovs, but the aim was wild.
Since the first burst of shots from the Colt Python, Jak's blaster had been
si-lent.
"What in the name of perdition is happening out there?" Doc asked.
" Jak," Ryan replied. "Must've worked around be-hind them somehow. Gave us the
break we needed."
"Where did the General go?" Krysty asked. "I lost sight of him in the
confusion."
"Hidden door on the side opposite the wag." J.B. peered around the corner of
the passage. "Can't see a thing. Woman's gone as well."
"Now what?" Mildred handed the Steyr back to Ryan. "Still a standoff?"
"No." Ryan grinned. "Not with Jak Lauren behind them. I know the kid well
enough. Nothing'll stop him in a maze like this. General said he had nine men.
How many rounds, J.B., fired by the Magnum?"
"I counted four. Or five. Not certain. Jak's not the best shot in Deathlands,
but I'd guess he could have sent three or four off to buy the farm."
Ryan considered. "I'm triple anxious about Dean. Reckon the General's likely
sent some of his force out back to loop around. We have to get this over
quickly."
"Two of us could go through the caverns and out into the Visitors' Center."
Krysty ran her fingers through her tightly coiled red hair.
"Take too long. We must be close to the rear exit." Ryan glanced around. "Once
we clean them out, the wag'll be the fastest way."
"Listen." J.B. held up a hand. "That's Jak at work again. Hitting them from
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Axler, James - Deathlands 22 - Rider, Reaper behind."
There was a cry that could have been pain, fear or anger. Or all three. It was
noticeable that the silk-fearing rattle of the Kalashnikovs seemed to have
ceased.
Ryan looked at the Armorer. "Worth moving in?"
"Could be. Run a feint and see what happens. Draw any fire if there's any fire
there to draw. But they've seen the General doing a runner out the side.
Captain jumping first off a sinking ship doesn't do a lot for the confidence
of the remainder of the crew. Know what I mean?"
There wasn't a whole lot of choice.
Ryan sniffed. "Now, friends. I'll go right, toward the other main exit from
here.
J.B. goes for the wag. Full red power all down the line. You three wait and
see what happens. We get chilled, you'll know there's no hope of getting out
that way.
So you go back through the caves and out to Dean and the horses. If they're
still there. If we make it, then you all come at once. Mildred for the wag.
Doc as well.
Krysty follow me. Ques-tions? No? Count of three. One and two and three!"
THE NAVAHO PONIES WERE more restless than the horses of the Anglos.
But Jesus and Carlos were patient, moving slowly, setting down each foot with
infinite care, avoiding the sharp snapping of a dry branch.
Now they were in among the line of tethered animals, pushing past them,
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whispering Mexican endearments, pausing to blow up the nostrils of a spirited
black gelding, quietening the animal. They could still see the sleeping boy as
they worked their way closer and closer.
The last animal they had to get past was tied a little way off from the rest
of the line, a large mule with mean eyes and cocked ears.
"Take care of him, Jesus," Carlos warned in a breathless whisper. "Son of a
bitch has a face like a devil."
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