Axler, James - Deathlands 40 by Axler James

Author:Axler, James
Language: eng
Format: epub

Chapter Fifteen

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Jak Lauren couldn't read, write or cipher very well, but he excelled at calculating the odds.

He came out of his handspring in time to see J.B., Mildred, Krysty and Doc writhing under the com-bined energy assaults of four metauh staves. He watched as they slumped unconscious, J.B.

tumbling limply out of the chariot, his beloved fedora falling to the dust.

Though shouting, running pandemonium ruled the plaza, Jak was able to focus on several sights more or less simultaneously, all of them occurring within heartbeats of one another.

Ryan spun in the direction of the chariot at the precise instant a giant of a man, like a bronze statue given life and mobility, stalked out of the press of the milling Incarnates. The V prongs of the silver rod in his hand thrust toward the one-eyed man's back. A shout of warning rose in Jak's throat, but before it left his lips, Ryan crashed heavily to the ground, to lie motionless on his face.

Three animal-helmeted men turned savage eyes on him, and Jak saw three more racing to flank him.

Ryan had long ago impressed on him the importance of counting bullets in a firefight, and he knew he had only four rounds for six rapidly moving targets.

Jak pivoted on his heel, put his head back and started to run. He heard a deep voice shout, "Take him alive!"

"Easy to say, stupe," Jak whispered.

A raging chorus of orders and counterorders erupted behind him. He raced across the plaza, feel-ing as if his feet scarcely touched the ground. He ran down the narrow side lane that J.B. had fol-lowed, then up a narrow alley hardly wide enough to accommodate his slight frame. The much larger Incarnates would find it difficult and painful to ne-gotiate.

Emerging into a broad street, he spotted a stone stair leading to the roof of a building. He loped up the steps, taking three at a time. Though he was the smallest in stature of his companions, except for Dean, he was the fleetest of foot and arguably had the deepest reservoir of stamina.

Running at full sprint across the flat surface of the roof, he took an alleyway yawning before him in a single leap. He misjudged the distance of the adja-cent building, came down too low, fumbled his one-handed grip on the edge, scraped skin from his wrist and pulled himself onto the other side. He dashed across the top of the building and jumped over an-other alley, down a few feet to a tiled rooftop.

Only then did he pause to look back and catch his breath. Though the early-morning sun wasn't even at midpoint in the sky, the blazing heat and the exertion had already drenched him in sweat. His shock of white hair was a soaking mass, and salty, stinging trickles slid into his eyes. He considered removing his camouflage clothing, not only because of its weight but because there was nothing in sight to use as decent cover. At any rate, his white skin and ruby eyes couldn't be disguised.

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