American Death Orbit by Ryder Stacy

Author:Ryder Stacy [Stacy, Ryder]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Action & Adventure
ISBN: 9780821724583
Google: NHSwAAAACAAJ
Amazon: 0821724584
Goodreads: 1251598
Publisher: Zebra
Published: 1988-09-01T00:00:00+00:00

Sixteen

If someone upstairs had been messing with them for the last few days, he suddenly seemed to give the Strike Force a break. For once they were away from the wretched bloodsuckers’ village, and their hearts had settled down to at least a modicum of normality, they made good time.

The land grew quite flat as they got more northward and Rock thanked his lucky stars for that. They didn’t need any more problems before they reached the site of the Dynasoar spacecraft. His main concern—other that the mission itself—was McCaughlin. The man’s condition wasn’t changing one way or another. He rode along all strapped down to the back of the ATV pale like a corpse. But he was clearly alive, if breathing in shallow gasps.

Every six hours or so, when Rockson called a rest, the doc checked him out, gave him more intravenous antibiotics and glucose as there was no way to get him to eat anything.

The man was in a coma, total and complete. The wound seemed to stop oozing blood but it didn’t really look like it was healing either, remaining swollen and purple all over his whole side and stomach.

Dr. Michaels believed that the drugs the Vampyre queen had squirted into him in preparation for the egg-laying had actually put his body into a kind of suspended animation. Which was good in that at least his metabolism would have slowed down. But neither Rock nor the doc had any illusions about the long-term prognosis. The human body couldn’t take that much shock and abuse without a whole room of life support systems to help it along. Fat chance. But then again, Archer’s skull had been stove in with an ax once, and he still lived.

So Rock prayed every night when they stopped and made camp in a protected area. Prayed to the gods that be that they’d give the overfed bastard a chance. If cats had nine lives, Scotsmen should have at least two. Although, if he started to think about it for very long, which he didn’t, Rock knew that the guy had already used up quite a few of those “get out of death” cards in the past.

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