Prodigal's Return by James Axler

Author:James Axler
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Speculative Fiction Suspense
ISBN: 9780373626106
Publisher: Gold Eagle
Published: 2011-09-06T04:00:00+00:00

“That’s sure enough,” Ryan said, thoughtfully rubbing his jaw. Privately, he wanted to help the travelers. The poor bastards were getting slaughtered. But without a good reason, he simply couldn’t risk the lives of his friends. Kin helped kin was the only unbreakable law, and the travelers were strangers.

“Cougars and sandhogs are tough combo to beat,” J.B. said slowly.

Just then, the rear wooden door of a wag slammed open and out raced a group of travelers firing blasters and crossbows. As some of the coldhearts turned that way, the running people yanked out some lengths of curved wood, and whipped them forward hard.

Ryan was astounded. Boomerangs? He hadn’t seen those oddball weapons in many years! The desire to leave was strong in him, but the need to know more about these coldhearts was even greater.

Whizzing along low and fast, a boomerang slammed into a coldheart, knocking him off the sandhog. He hit the ground, clutching his belly, blood gushing between his fingers. On the ground nearby, the ’rang lay sparkling in the sunlight, the edge clearly studded with chunks of broken glass.

“Nice,” Jak whispered, smiling widely.

Without a driver, the sandhog continued onward, splashing through the shallow pond to roll into a campfire. Hitting the logs, it toppled over into the flames.

The other coldhearts veered away from the travelers as the cougars attacked. The man fell, burying his knife into the throat of one cat, and the woman was mauled across the belly by the other, her guts slithering out like greasy ropes. But as she fell, she drew a squat blaster, the barrel composed of a dozen smaller barrels held together with iron rings. As the cougar leaped for her throat, she fired, and all twelve barrels discharged together. Slammed aside by the barrage, the cougar limply fell, minus its head. Then the first cougar attacked her from the side, and she died screaming under the fangs and sharp claws. In perfect harmony, the sandhog exploded into flames, sending out a spray of loose parts that rattled harmlessly against the wooden sides of the wags.

More travelers dashed out, heading for the teams of horses, their hands full of axes. As they started cutting away the dead animals, a swarm of coldhearts came howling down the slope of the hollow, screaming, and whirling petards over their heads.

The travelers in the wags cut loose with thundering volleys of blasters, arrows as thick as swarms of bees. Most of the coldhearts were hit, but not a man fell. Reaching the floor of the hollow, the coldhearts released the ropes of the petards. The small jugs lofted high to gracefully descend through the smoky air and crash into the top of a wooden Conestoga. But there was no explosion, only a burst of some watery substance that dripped into the louvered slots. Almost instantly, the people inside the wag stopped shooting and went deathly still.

The travelers working to free the horses suddenly started to wobble, then lay down.

“Poison! These bastards want the wags intact!” Krysty snarled.

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