Devil Riders by James Axler

Author:James Axler
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Action & Adventure, General, Regression (Civilization), Science Fiction, Adventure, Men's Adventure, Fiction
ISBN: 9780373625734
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2003-01-02T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Throwing the gearshift into neutral, Krysty quickly killed the ignition and let the wag coast along until braking to a full stop in the lee of a small dune.

"Get sharp, people!" Ryan commanded. "Those things could be hot on our ass." Climbing down from the cab, he checked the clip in his blaster. Four rounds remained, and he had two more loaded clips.

Wearily, the rest of companions climbed off the big vehicle and spread out behind it with their blasters at the ready. However, they knew there were no more Molotovs, and only three implo grens remained. A couple had been lost in the tumultuous fight through the salt flats, and their ammo reserves were low.

If the bugs returned, the implo grens were the first line of defense, then blasters, and after that, they would be reduced to knives and running.

After checking under the chassis for any unwanted passengers, Ryan, Krysty and J.B. went to the front of the wag, and Ryan flipped up the hood with the others covering him in case a bug was waiting inside. But the engine was clean of insects, only some scattered bits of fibrous black material and thick streamers of oily smoke.

"Burned through a fan belt," J.B. said, lifting a piece for inspection, then dropping it and blowing on his singed fingers. "Two of them, in fact. Look down there."

Leaning on the nuke battery, Ryan could see the damage, and agreed it wasn't from the Molotovs. Just old belts that shredded under the strain. "It was running hot before the bugs appeared," he added.

"This wag is dead."

"Can we fix it?" Krysty asked, looking between the two men. "Cobble something together with our belts, or rope, or something?"

"Mebbe," Ryan replied sullenly, the lack of sleep wearing on his nerves. He felt constantly angry, and the throbbing of the gash on his forehead was affecting his judgment. "Hell, I don't know. All our boots laces tied together wouldn't take the strain. We could buckle some belts together, but they wouldn't fit. Too wide."

"And what rope we have is too thick," she added.

"We could loosen the weave, but that could take a hell of a lot of time."

"And the longer we sit still, the closer they get."

"Well, we're sure as hell not going to walk six hundred miles."

"Might have to."

"And mebbe not. Now it could just be this heat, but I got a crazy idea," J.B. said slowly, tilting back his fedora. "Might work, might not, but I'll need a really sharp blade, the best we got."

"Mildred, bring a scalpel!" Ryan called, motioning the woman over.

"To fix a wag?" the physician replied, coming their way.

"What are you planning to do?"

"J.B. has a plan," Krysty replied, stepping back to give the others some more space to work.

Reaching into her satchel, Mildred pulled out a small canvas bundle. The scalpel was really only an box cutter blade from a high school art department, but it was the sharpest, thinnest blade they owned.

"Whatever you're planning is going to ruin the edge,"

Mildred stated, passing over the blade.

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