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little tremor of fear every time he hit the bridge.
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Over the chasm, they headed onward through the storm. Wallace wanted a fresh
supply of body parts, and Murphy had a blood lust to quell. The unfinished
business with Cawdor and his people was still eating at him. Hell, he might
even find them there, if they'd managed to avoid getting chilled by the
outsiders. The thought of it made him feel warm inside.
The wags were now careering through the brush where the mutie squirrels lived.
The evil little critters evinced a certain death wish. Their territory was
being invaded again, and they didn't like it.
The wags rattled and thumped as the bodies of the squirrels hit the sides,
high-
pitched squeals of pain and anger, fury and death penetrating the canvas-and-
metal shell. Small rips appeared where the most tenacious of the creatures
managed to get its jaws into the sides of the wags.
"Those little fuckers never learn, do they?" Bailey commented.
"They certainly don't, son," Murphy replied impassively. "Stupe bastards'll
probably make themselves extinct at this rate. But you've gotta admire their
guts, Bailey."
"Something like that, sir." Bailey coughed, fighting to keep control of the
wag as the wheels skittered on bloody corpses.
"It's okay, Bailey. We'll soon be past the brush and into the homestretch. And
that's where the action really begins." Murphy unholstered his blue 9 mm
Beretta and kissed the barrel.
That had never failed him yet.
JAK WAS SQUATTED on a mound of earth just past the last beacon fire, now
damped down for the daylight hours. Dean was with him. While Jak was still and
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impassive, staring into the storm, Dean was itchy and fidgety, unable to
settle.
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"I'm still not sure what the hell it is we're supposed to be keeping a lookout
for,"
he complained. "Nothing can move out there, not in that."
"Not want stay, not stay," Jak commented quietly. "Not forcing you."
"I know," Dean replied, struggling for the right words. "I kind of don't want
to, but feel like I should."
"Why?"
"Because you feel like something's going to happen."
Jak turned to Dean, and for a moment there was a hint of suspicion in his red
eyes.
"Not a doomie," he said tersely. "Just bad feeling. Not know what, why."
"Not just you," Dean said. "Krysty's had a weird feeling today. I heard her
tell
Dad before he went to see that bastard Abner. Krysty doesn't get bad feelings
for nothing."
Jak didn't reply, but now he knew why Ryan had picked today to find out when
Abner was actually going to act. The bad feeling returned to him, intensified.
It wasn't a doomie feeling, not like those Krysty had.
No, this wasn't a doomie feeling. It was more the kind of gut tension you got
before a fight. The feeling that a chilling was in the air.
Jak returned to his vigil, Dean settling in beside him. Both of them ignored
the wind and dust that stung their eyes, keeping watch for the slightest sign
of activity.
Such as flurries of dust where there were previously none.
"Over there," Jak said pointing, squinting to try to get a better look.
Dean followed the line of Jak's bony white finger, not quite believing what he
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No, more than one. He counted four of them.
"I don't believe it," he whispered. "Four wags?"
"How they cross chasm?" Jak murmured.
"That's what I'd like to know," Dean replied.
That shook Jak from his reverie. He hadn't realized that he was thinking
aloud. In one graceful, fluid movement he rose to his feet, placing a hand on
Dean's shoulder.
"You keep watch."
"Yeah, you go and fetch Dad and the others. They need to see this," Dean said.
"Already there," Jak replied as he disappeared like a wraith.
Dean kept his gaze locked on the wags as they careered through the dust
storms.
At that speed it wouldn't be long before they were at the ville.
JAK SPED through the twisting lanes and paths that comprised the streets of
the ville, making his way to the adobe hut where his companions were still
billeted.
Their training of the ville dwellers hadn't led Abner to give them better
accommodations. Then again, looking at the sty in which the baron lived,
perhaps there wasn't anything better.
When Jak reached the entrance to the hut, he could hear J.B., Mildred and
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Krysty talking about the possibility of making a mat-trans jump without being
physically sick at the other end.
The albino burst into the adobe shack, his sudden appearance causing surprise
that turned to a crackling, palpable tension as his body language communicated
his urgency.
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"War wags coming. Counted four. Dean still watching. Where's Ryan?"
"With Abner, last I knew," J.B. told him, reaching for his Uzi and the M-4000,
checking their load and readiness for action.
"I'll get him," Krysty said, heading for the doorway and passing Jak. "You get
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