Remember Tomorrow by James Axler

Author:James Axler
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2007-03-25T16:00:00+00:00

NIGHT IN DUMA WAS different to day only in the amount of light that was artificially generated. Oil, generator-powered incandescents and old salvaged neon lights cast a series of conflicting glows and shadows across the sidewalks and roads of the ville. Unlike the farming-oriented villes or those that had to be careful of their resources, Baron Xander had built Duma into a ville that was possibly one of the richest across the Deathlands. By attracting convoys and making it a meeting and trading point for them, and by schooling his subjects in the art of draining every last drop of jack from the convoy teams while they were in the ville, Xander had found a way of keeping the wealth of the convoys within the boundaries of his fiefdom.

And the best way to get jack from a convoy team was by offering brew, jolt and pussy—mebbe not in that order.

Along the crisscrossing main streets of the ville, which were broken only by the blacktop that ran through the center, virtually every building offered all three—at a high price. There was no cost-cutting or free enterprise in Duma, no bargains to attract the customers. They would come anyway and Xander set the prices, which weren’t to be tampered with.

The teeming streets were full of drunk and high people, the women competing to take in patrons. The drunker the better. That way they could get them in and out quickly, making way for the next paying “guest.” The noise, smoke and stink of sweating, drunken humanity was almost overwhelming. But if this was to be his new home, then J.B. figured he’d better get used to it.

By that time of night, he was also getting less attention than he had earlier in the day, as the people around were too drunk and too absorbed in their own interests to care. The Armorer and the sec man slipped into a bar.

“Best drink around here. Icepick don’t mix too much shit in with the brew, try to make the alcohol last longer. And he does the best moonshine in the whole of Duma. Swears it was something that was in his family way before the nukecaust. ’Course, he’s also full of shit, so I wouldn’t trust that part. Drink will blow your head off, though.” Esquivel grinned as they settled themselves at the bar.

“Sounds good to me,” J.B. agreed, as the sec man ordered for them.

When the glasses, filled with a grayish brown spirit, were in front of them, J.B. picked his up and turned around to cast an eye over the bar. It was full, most of the patrons either standing by the bar or sitting around a handful of tables that were scattered across the small floor. Chairs backed into one another and it was easy to see that the later it got and the drunker and more stoned the patrons became, the more likely it was for fights to break out. Most of the trade seemed to know one another and were clustered into small groups around the tables, arguing and laughing loudly by turn.

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