Deathlands 087 - Desolation Crossing by James Axler

Author:James Axler [Axler, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-07-31T22:26:05+00:00

“And what, mebbe, he’s really going to be doing when we get to our destination,” Krysty added.

THE ARMORER HAD BEEN on the point of leaving the armored wag and heading back to check on Ryan and Jak when he had heard Doc’s voice come through the comm receiver.

He turned, half his attention on the trader and half on wondering if there was a way he could chill the receiver before someone said something that would cause a problem. He’d had every intention of sharing his concerns with his friends, but only when he’d made sure that the comm mics were removed from both Jak and Ryan. The tech was so small that it was easy to forget it was there, especially as the noise of the convoy had rendered it useless for so long.

What he heard next just proved that he was too late. If Ryan and Jak had been alert enough to realize that their mics were still live, then Mildred and Krysty had just simply forgotten about them.

The words were damning. J.B. stood in the middle of the wag, watching the impassive faces of both LaGuerre and Eula.

“Good to know what your people think of me,” LaGuerre said over the relayed conversation, his tone amused. “Of course, they’re only agreeing with what you think, right?

And they’ve got a point. I work my people hard, and then we play hard. That’s how we get ahead and stay there. If your people don’t want to take those risks, then you know what the hell you can do. But I’d say neither of us has a choice.”

J.B. listened, but as he did so his attention was focused on the woman. LaGuerre was a coldheart, but he was also obvious. He had no real guile. Eula was different. She was the one who J.B. - that all of them - had real cause to watch. She had guile in plenty, and the masked motivation to drive it.

“Go and talk to them, tell them what the hell you want,”

LaGuerre continued. “Man, what you gonna do? Stay out in the middle of this pesthole with no transport? Or carry on with me and hope for the best?”

He was right. Their options were less than zero.

J.B. turned and left the wag, feeling Eula’s eyes burning into him, making his way to the rear of the convoy. The cabs of the two large containers were empty, their drivers making the most of the opportunity to stretch their legs and piss in peace. The same was true of the crews of the other two wags, taking advantage of downtime that would be brief but welcomed for its unexpected appearance.

His approach had an urgency that made the others look up. Maybe - just maybe - it would stop anyone else from saying something they would regret. As he drew near, J.B.

tapped his cheek. He was greeted by puzzled expressions until Jak reached up to his own face, touching the mic and cursing softly as he realized they had been overheard.

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