Resistance: A Hole in the Sky by William C. Dietz

Author:William C. Dietz
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9780345522955
Publisher: Del Rey
Published: 2011-08-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU ASK FOR

Tuesday, November 3, 1953

South of Tank Town

Capelli had been crucified. The cross consisted of a post from which the U.S. Route 81 sign had been removed—and a length of two-by-four scrounged from a nearby barn.

It was a little past noon. That’s what Capelli figured anyway, as the sun inched across the cloudless sky, and his shadow swung towards the east. His arms were tied to the crosspiece and about five feet of clothesline had been wrapped around both the upright and his legs.

Capelli had been there for hours by that time and he was cold. Very cold. Eventually, assuming that this day passed as the last two had, Bam-Bam and Inkskin would arrive with some hot soup.

Unless a group of Hybrids happened along, that is. Then, if there were more stinks than the circus performers could handle, the Chimera would be allowed to kill him. But if there were only two or three Chimera, Alfonso would pop up and stun one of the ’brids with a bolt from his crossbow. Meanwhile, Bam-Bam and Inkskin would cut the rest of the stinks down.

Once they had captured a replacement for El Diablo the circus would be back in business. And, according to Inkskin, Capelli was already slated to fight the new Hybrid. Without a knife.

Capelli attempted to generate some body heat by flexing his muscles. The result was a little bit of warmth. It was a small victory, but it made him feel better nevertheless. The afternoon wore on.

It was mid-afternoon by the time Alfonso, Bam-Bam, and Inkskin emerged from their various hiding spots and wandered out onto the two-lane highway. There hadn’t been any traffic, Chimeran or otherwise, which meant the effort to capture a stink would resume the following morning. Unless Ringmaster Jack decided to pull up stakes and go looking for another site, that is.

All three of the circus performers were carrying canteens and blankets in addition to their weapons, and Capelli figured that at least a couple of them had been napping. The clown’s makeup was badly smudged, which made him look even more sinister than usual. “What a waste of time,” Bam-Bam complained, as he loosened a knot. “You couldn’t draw flies, much less a Chimera.”

There was no point in answering, and Capelli didn’t as loops of rope fell away. His arms were next, and as Capelli lowered them, Inkskin was there to reattach his collar. Except that as the tattooed man opened the device, and was about to clamp it in place, a high-velocity bullet blew the top of his head off. The report was like an afterthought.

Capelli felt something warm wash across his face as all of the strength went out of Inkskin’s body and he collapsed. There was a momentary clatter as both the collar and the guard’s weapon hit the pavement.

And then Capelli’s training kicked in. He was already in motion, sprinting for the side of the road, when a slug snatched Bam-Bam off his feet. With a thump, he landed facedown on the white line.

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