James Axler Deathlands 041 Freedom Lost

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Any thieves entering these stores with stealing on their minds found
proprietors hidden inside armed and waiting for whatever threat might come
bursting through their doors. Crazed human or crazier mutie, they didn't care.
Try to infringe on what was theirs, and a person would be cut down in a hail
of blasterfire.
At the multiplex, Doc, J.B. and Mildred had learned of the crisis when the
movie had been stopped in midreel. Mildred hadn't minded the interruption in
the least.
The humor of
Dawn of the Dead was being totally lost on her, as well as on Doc, although
J.B. seemed to be greatly enjoying himself.
The angry audience had taken offense and was ready to lynch the projectionist
until Boston from the box office came out with news of what was happening
outside.
Now the three friends were struggling to make their way through the teeming,
panicked masses. The looting of the many mall business establishments had
already begun, an unstoppable wave of shrieking lust for food, clothing and,
best of all, material possessions.
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"By the Three Kennedys!" Doc bellowed, raising his voice to be heard over of
the cacophony of the mob. "These ignorant fools are raiding their own
henhouses!
Can they not see they are assisting in the destruction of their own
sanctuary?"
"They don't give a damn, Doc," Mildred replied sadly. "They just don't care. I
haven't seen the likes of this since the 1992 L.A. riots. Tomorrow there might
be some remorse mixed in with twinges of guilt, but tonight is wilding time.
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The time of the unleashed collective id."
"Don't quote Freud to me, Doctor. Sometimes a cigar is a cigar, and sometimes
a pack of wolves is a pack of wolves," Doc retorted, using his sheathed
swordstick to beat and jab a clear path through the milling mass of people.
"Watch it," one unruly mass of muscle and leather spun and bellowed at Doc.
"Poke me again, and I'll jam that toothpick up your skinny ass."
"Better men than you have tried, sir," Doc bellowed back.
J.B raised his M-4000 scattergun. "Keep moving, friend, or I'll clear a path
the old-
fashioned way," the Armorer intoned. "Right though your gut."
The talking mass of muscle looked at the twin barrels, snorted and continued
on, allowing the trio to pass unmolested down the annex area to the entrance
of the satellite mall-sec headquarters. As official members of the sec team,
each knew the entry code. Doc took the honors, beeping in the series of
numbers to command the door to unlock.
No sliding pneumatic doorways here. After the door popped open and swung
inward on the hinges, it remained that way until pulled tightly closed and
left sealed for the next visitor who needed access to the sec area.
What the friends found inside were two faces belonging to their fellow sec
men, two men armed with M-16 autoblasters leveled right at them as they
entered.
"Come on in," Ike said, a turbanlike white bandage wound around his head.
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"Always good to see friends," Mike echoed.
"REPORT, AND KEEP IT short," Rollins hissed into the hand comm unit.
Around him his remaining backup man and Ryan and the others cast nervous eyes
into the darkness around the roof of Freedom Mall.
"The roofs on fire over here. Going up fast," the frightened voice replied
through the unit. "And we're pinned down by high-powered blasterfire. Can't
get through the access hatch. Where'd they get the blasters, sir?"
"Where doesn't matter. Dealing with it is. Regroup your party. You'll have to
move over and above to get to where we are. We've secured this end. In fact
we'll try and meet you halfway if possible. Rollins out." The big man
terminated the communication and returned the radio to his belt.
"They need backup," Ryan said.
"I know."
"Is it possible to go from one end to the other by roof?" Krysty asked.
Rollins leaned down to tighten a lace on his combat boots. "That's the idea.
We'll use the stickie fires to guide us."
Ryan took off at a measured sprint, Jak and Krysty both at his heels.
STILL IN A CROUCH, Rollins followed Ryan's lead. Both men stayed low until
reaching the outcropping of the built-up skylight area used to provide natural
lighting to Freedom during daylight hours. Ryan continued to squat, his knees
protesting from being forced to support his full body weight for so long.
Each of them held their breath, waiting, listening for any type of noise to
come.
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Rollins had attempted another communication with Jameson's sec team, but had
gotten nothing back in the way of an answer but static.
Ryan eased out of the crouched position and turned to look beyond the elevated
skylight edge. The air was still. He looked down through the skylight and saw
even more fires burning within Freedom, along with looting and destruction
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from a panicked populace. The unmistakable smell of smoldering embers and
burned bodies hung in the dead air.
"No sign of anything out there. Inside is another story," Ryan whispered.
He turned to Rollins, who was also standing. The man had removed the radio
from his belt once more. He turned down the sound of the device before
thumbing the Send button.
"This is Rollins. Anyone else on this frequency?"
Silence.
"Dammit, Jameson, answer me!"
"You didn't say 'please,' Mr. Rollins," a new voice said, distorted by a poor
connection linking the two units.
"Who the fuck is this?" Rollins demanded.
"Does it matter? No, wait, stop. Don't answer that. I'm sure you'll make a
point of yammering on and telling me it does. I'll make it quick since I've
got a mall to take over. All of your sec boys on the roof of the south side of
Freedom are dead.
We used their heads for some extra burning fun. My new friends have been
showing me all sorts of clever ways to kill a norm. Hair burns quick if you
pour on some black powder or charcoal fluid."
"Jameson! Where are you?" Rollins demanded, talking over the bragging voice.
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"Can't help you there, buck. I don't know which one of those crummy excuses
for a norm was the late Mr. Jameson."
Ryan took the radio from Rollins and asked a question of his own. "Like the
man said, who is this?"
"I know that voice! How's it hanging, One-eye?"
"Why don't you meet me and find out?" Ryan replied, surprised at hearing the
old nickname.
"Sorry. Can't do that. I'm not on the roof anymore. None of my stickies are on
the roof. Like me, they're already down and inside the mall."
Ryan listened closely. The voice sounded oddly familiar somehow, but he
couldn't place it.
"See you there!"
RYAN HEFTED his SIG-Sauer in a two-handed grip as they came upon the rooftop
massacre. The sec squad on this end of Freedom hadn't been able to repel the
invaders nearly as effectively as Ryan's team. Five men and one woman were [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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