Tainted Cascade by James Axler

Author:James Axler
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2011-03-25T16:00:00+00:00

BRAKING THEIR motorcycles to a halt on top of a hill, the Pig Iron Gang turned off their engines to conserve fuel, then looked down into a lush, green valley.

Most of the landscape below was filled with Tickle Belly Lake, the ridiculous name coming from an expanse of naturally carbonated water, which most people had never seen or even heard about before. Incredibly, animals and muties detested the fizzy stuff and avoided the entire valley as if it was a glowing rad crater, which just made the bubbling waters ever more attractive to thirsty people. The rest of the landscape was thickly covered with gigantic mutie pines trees, some of them with trunks thicker than a person could spread his or her arms, and even on the hill the gang caught the woodsy smell of pine sap and green nettles.

Curving along the shore of the noisy lake was Redstone ville, the high walls made entirely of wood, the exterior bristling with sharp nail points. The buildings inside the wall were in excellent condition, the former mobile homes now permanently anchored with a dense cover of adobe bricks.

Parked just outside the ville was a massive war wag, the armored chassis bristling with rapid-fires. Steel shutters covered the windows and tires, and the spiked roof was frothy with coils of concertina wire, the razor-sharp lengths glistening in the afternoon sun. But much more importantly a tall pole jutted from the top of the war machine, the flag fluttering from the top bearing the very simple design of a circle with a diagonal line cutting through it, the symbol of a non-combatant, a trader.

There were some folding tables and chairs alongside the war wag, and the armed occupants of the formidable transport were doing business with the ragged locals, buying and selling whatever was available: food, black powder, old boots, new leather and the like. Plus, a lot of small items carved out of the local pinewood: rifle stocks, knife handles, belt buckles, hair combs, bowls, spoons, drinking mugs and anything else the locals thought would bring a fair price from travelers coming to drink from the effervescent waters of Tickle Belly Lake.

“And there he is, right on schedule,” Petrov said, smiling in frank relief, his arms resting on the handlebars.

“Good thing, too,” Charlie stated. “Baron Ronson would never sell us shine again, not after the last time.”

“There was nothing wrong with those tampons!” Rose snapped defiantly. “They’re perfect for deep bullet wounds.”

“True, but I hear she was just a little pissed that we had used most of them already,” Thal said with a hard grin.

Rose snorted. “Well, we had to test the merchandise, didn’t we?”

“Not all of it, no.”

“Hey, buy your own underwear, as the ancients used to say.”

“The phrase was ‘buyer beware,’ and that’s why we’re only dealing with the trader and not the ville,” Petrov stated, opening his full canteen to empty it onto a bush. Screwing the cap back on, he slung it over a shoulder, then kicked the big twin-V8 engine alive.

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