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Mildred noticed Jak reaching for one of his leaf-bladed throwing knives and put her hand out to stop the teen from doing anything foolish.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” she said, “but we’re outlanders who came across a group of muties who were about to rape and chill two of this ville’s women.”
“Which women?”
“Eleander and Moira.”
The man stopped mixing herbs and turned to face Mildred. For a moment, he just looked at her and Jak in turn, then he said, “My name’s Katz. I run the ville’s pharmacy, so if there’s anything you need, I’ll see that you get it.”
Mildred was startled by the sudden change in the man’s attitude, but was glad he’d come around because now Jak would be less inclined to chill him where he stood.
“What are you preparing for him?” Mildred asked, doing her best to sound curious, but not reveal any of her medical knowledge.
“An antibiotic for the wound,” Katz said, “and a painkiller to get him through the night.”
Mildred was confused. “Aren’t you going to fix the hole in his shoulder?”
“I’m what you’d call a chemist,” Katz shrugged. “If he takes these medications long enough, he’ll probably recover from his injury.”
“No offense, Katz, but I’d like to be a little more sure than just probably. Do you mind if I work on him a bit first before you give him the drugs?”
“If you think you know what you’re doing, then great. Easier for me.”
“I’ll need a few things.”
“Like I said before, anything you need, I’ll see that you get it…as long as we have it here in the ville, of course.”
Mildred nodded. “I’ll need a good strong needle.”
“We’ve got plenty of those.”
“Some thread or fine string, some boiled water and maybe a few sterile cloths.”
Katz shook his head. “Not a problem.”
“And then when I’m done, you can give him the antibiotics.”
“What about a painkiller?” Katz asked.
Jak looked at Mildred.
Judging by the look in the teenager’s eyes, he could use some.
“Maybe a small dose of morphine for now, just to see how he reacts to it.”
Katz nodded. “Sure, whatever you say.”
“WE HAVE FOUR ROOMS for guests,” Robards said, opening the door to one of them. “I’m sorry we don’t have more, or larger, or better rooms for you, but the baron isn’t in the habit of hosting so many people at one time.”
“This is fine,” Ryan said, wondering what Robards was talking about. The rooms were better than anything they’d seen in months.
“First-class accommodations!” Doc exclaimed. “Five star!”
Robards smiled, and nodded. “Very well, then. The baron will be meeting with you in an hour. Spend the time as you wish.”
The sec chief turned and walked back down the hallway in the direction they’d just come, leaving Ryan, Krysty, Doc and J.B. to examine their new surroundings.
The walls along the hallways outside their rooms also had stress fractures and cracks in them. It was possible that the only parts of the building that were cracked were the inside walls and outside bricks, and that the interior steel superstructure was undamaged, but that was unlikely. While the building would remain standing for as long as they’d be staying there, a single large blast in the right place and the whole thing might come down like a house of cards.
“Think it’s safe?” Ryan asked J.B.
“Been standing for a hundred years, so it should be safe enough for the next few days.” J.B. lifted the brim of his fedora and ran a hand over one of the cracks in the wall. “I wouldn’t want to be a permanent resident, though.”
Ryan nodded. “We’ll leave as soon as we’re resupplied.” Then he continued inspecting their living quarters.
Their rooms were small and dark with sturdy wooden beds topped with mattresses made of dried corn husks and covered with old, but clean, blankets.
“Hey! There’s a bed in here,” Krysty said. “I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve slept on a bed.”
Meanwhile, Ryan and J.B. were busy examining the rooms for booby traps and locks. There was no evidence of either, which meant they couldn’t lock their doors, but they wouldn’t be locked into the rooms by their hosts, either.
“Impressions?” J.B. asked.
“Looks good so far,” Ryan stated.
“Too good, you think?”
“It crossed my mind.”
“Gentlemen, I, too, am astounded by our good fortune, but how many times have we rescued damsels in distress only to have that noble act of extrication be punished by imprisonment, threats of death and bodily harm or simple misfortune? Is it so inconceivable that for once in this forsaken hell of a land there might be someone who is actually grateful for our good deeds and wants to thank us with a reward that is actually in line with the magnitude of our deed.”
J.B. looked strangely at Ryan.
Ryan glanced over at Doc and smiled. “I think he might have a point.”
“Mebbe, but I’m still being cautious. In Doc’s time there might have been people who were friendly like this, but I haven’t seen many in the Deathlands. My guess is that the baron wants something from us, and it’s not the pleasure of our company.”
“So we’ll be on alert and no one goes anywhere alone, or without a blaster.”
J.B. nodded.
“Sage advice, my dear Ryan,” Doc said. “In the meantime, I am going to take full advantage of the amenities. I want to be well rested for the reception.”
“You expecting Eleander to be there, Doc?” Krysty asked.
“You read my mind, Krysty. What an absolutely charming gift you have.”
Ryan stepped into the room he and Krysty would be sharing.
In the second room, Doc lay down on the large bed in the middle of the room, the only bed in the room.
J.B. cleared his throat.
“If there’s something caught in your throat, John Barrymore,” Doc said, “I believe there is water in that jug on the table over there.”
“Mildred will be back soon.”
Doc looked at J.B. a moment, then glanced down at the bed he was lying on. “Oh, right,” he said. “I shall take one of the other rooms.”
J.B. nodded his thanks.
Doc stepped into the third room that had a single large bed—just a tad smaller than J.B. and Mildred’s—and closed the door behind him. Then he lay down on the bed and fell asleep with thoughts of the lovely woman Eleander swirling through his head.
SEC CHIEF ROBARDS caught up with Baron DeMann when the baron returned from his visit with the prisoner.
“How is my old friend Desmond?” Robards asked.
“He’s in terrible shape,” the baron responded with a smile. “I think I’ll let him live a little longer…till he begs me to let him die.”
“It’ll be a lesson for the rest of the men,” the sec chief commented. Then added, after a pause, “We have visitors.”
“Yes, I saw the wag come in. Who are they?”
“Outlanders. They happened upon Eleander and Moira down at the river.”
“The river! What were they doing down there?”
Robards hesitated, knowing that telling the truth would likely warrant punishment from the baron, but also knowing that the truth couldn’t be avoided. “Moira says she asked Eleander to take her swimming. They had planned to be back before anyone realized they were gone.”
The baron abruptly stopped walking and turned to face the sec chief. “How did they get out?”
“I have men checking on that.”
The baron nodded. “Were they really swimming?”
The sec chief nodded. “Moira said it was her idea.”
“Do you believe her?”
The sec chief shrugged. “No, but they were naked, and in the water. They had no provisions with them other than two remade
blasters.”
“Perhaps they were using the outing as a test of the walls and of your sec force’s brand of security.”
Robards was silent, knowing there was nothing he could say in his own defense.
“Obviously you failed.”
More silence.
“But even though they got outside the ville undetected, they can’t leave. They need to be close to the ville for the rest of their lives.”
Robards waited for the baron to punish him for being so careless with the ville’s security.
“Eleander must be punished,” he said at last.
“Thank you, Baron,” the sec chief said, acknowledging the order. Then he said, “When the outlanders came upon them, the two women were about to be raped by a gang of muties.”
“Muties? You’re supposed to take care of them as well.”
“We did our usual sweep, Baron. They must have found new places to hide, or these scum were new muties.”
The baron sneered, obviously disappointed with his sec chief’s performance. “So these outlanders saved them?”
“Chilled the muties like they were chilling flies.”
“Then I suppose we owe them a debt of thanks.”
“I’ve conveyed as much to them.”
“Good, give them some jack and send them on their way.”
Again the sec chief hesitated. It was the best he could do to let the baron know that he didn’t exactly want to follow the order.
“What is it?”
“I’ve offered them a place to stay for a while. And you’ll be meeting them in an hour at a reception.”
The baron sighed. “I don’t want to waste my time with outland garbage.”
Robards lowered his head. “Your feelings on the subject are well known, Baron, but I would like to keep this group close by for the next few days.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, for one, I’d like to test my men against them.”
“Yes, I suppose that might be fun. I’ll see if it can be arranged. What else?”
“The leader of the group is somehow familiar to me. I’ve sent a man to Indyville to check on something for me. He should return in a day or two.”
The baron looked at his sec chief with an inquisitive eye. “All right, Robards. I trust your judgment enough to let you play this out. But, in the meantime, would you mind telling me what all this is about?”
“I’d rather not until I’m sure. Could be right, could be wrong.”
“Will I like what you have to tell me if you’re right?”
Robards shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Then don’t tell me until I need to know.”
Chapter Five
Ryan lay back on the cot watching Krysty strip to the waist. There was dirt and grime on her skin, darker on her arms and shoulders, lighter but still present on her back, belly and breasts.
“No running water in here, lover,” she said, running her hands gently over her body. “But they did leave us a few jugs of water, washcloths and a washbasin big enough to stand in.”
“Very kind of them,” Ryan said, admiring the firm shelf of Krysty’s chest and the perky nipples placed high on each breast. The Deathlands had made her body hard, but it was hard and sculpted in all the right places.
“Would you like to wash my back?” she asked, slipping out of the rest of her coveralls, exposing her exquisitely shaped buttocks, and powerful thighs and calves.
Ryan knew that if Krysty felt comfortable enough here to wash up, then they were probably safe for the next little while. Ryan too felt safe for the moment, and he also knew that the feeling wouldn’t last. It was best to take advantage of the moment and enjoy it while it lasted.
“How could I say no?”
He got up from the bed and approached Krysty from behind. She gathered her fiery red hair in her hands and pulled it forward around her neck and away from her shoulders to expose the base of her neck and top part of her back.
Ryan picked up a washcloth and dipped it into the lukewarm water. After squeezing out the excess water, he dragged the damp cloth across Krysty’s shoulders and watched as the dirt and dust of the day flowed away, leaving her smooth, unblemished, and clean skin behind.
“Mmm.” She sighed. “That feels good, lover.”
Ryan said nothing in response. Instead, he rinsed the washcloth and continued bathing Krysty, moving down her back, over her buttocks and inside her thighs.
And then she turned so he could do the front.
Ryan started at her neck and shoulders again, moving slowly down her body, spending extra time on her breasts, enjoying the way her nipples responded to his touch, and that of the water. Next came the reddish thatch of hair between her legs, which she parted slightly to give him better access to her legs.
“You’re right, lover,” Ryan said. “This does feel good.”
“Your turn now,” she said, smiling.
Ryan stripped down, keeping the SIG-Sauer and Steyr within arm’s reach. The water felt cool on his skin, and Krysty was careful to wipe gently over his scarred flesh to make it feel more like a lover’s touch than a bath.
“Does that feel good?” she asked.
Ryan didn’t answer at first.
Instead he turned around and let her see the aewas having on him.
“Oh, lover,” she breathed.
Ryan took Krysty in his arms and carried her to the bed.
THERE WAS a knock at the laboratory door.
Eleander was hard at work in the lab, making insulin for an East Coast baron with diabetes.
“Just a minute,” she said, trying to free her hands to open the door.
But before Eleander could answer it, the door burst open and Sec chief Robards was standing in the doorway. There was a look of evil on his face, as if he intended to hurt someone.
Someone like her.
“What is it?” Eleander cried, shrinking from the doorway. “What do you want?”
The sec chief took a few steps forward, pushing her backward and forcing her to crawl away from him, but running out of room in the tiny lab.
“You know why I’m here,” he said.
“We were swimming, I swear.”
“A good story for the outlander trash, but not good enough for me, or the baron. We know you were testing possible escape routes.”
“No, that’s not right,” Eleander insisted. “Moira just wanted to get away for a little while, just the two of us, alone. How could I refuse her?”
“You’re supposed to have an escort anytime you leave the ville. You know that as well as anyone.”
“And with the way your sec men look at us, who will protect us from them?”
The sec chief’s hand came out of nowhere, hitting her hard on the cheek and knocking her off her bed. The flesh stung, but the sec chief was too good at administering beatings to ever let a mark show on her face.
“After so many years, I still can’t believe you need to learn your place here,” Sec chief Robards said.
“I’m a chemist, and Moira’s mother—”
“All of which means nothing to me.” Robards grabbed her arm.
“No, please don’t…” And then she cried out, “I’m sorry,” even though she hadn’t done anything wrong.
The sec chief laughed. “Oh, now you’re sorry. Your little adventure made a fool out of me in front of the baron.”
“It was never meant to. I only wanted to spend some time with my daughter.”
But the sec chief was no longer listening. He reached into a pocket on the thigh of his pants and took out a tiny syringe.
Eleander saw the needle and cried out, “No, please… I’ll cooperate. Whatever you want.”
But it was too late to change her mind.
The sec chief jabbed the needle into the base of her neck.
Almost instantaneously, Eleander’s body went limp.
Robards tossed the needle aside and removed his belt.
“Teach
you to fuck with me,” he said, as he delivered the first blow.
MILDRED WYETH MADE one last check on Jak’s wound. Although it wasn’t much more than a flesh wound, there had been some tearing to the muscle tissue that had to be repaired before she could close up the hole in his shoulder.
Luckily, Katz had been able to provide her with a local anesthetic that deadened the area enough so that Jak wouldn’t be in too much pain while she worked. He’d jerked his body a couple of times when she hit a nerve, but there were no major problems considering where they were and the conditions the surgery had been done under.
Jak wanted to sleep now, but Mildred wanted to join up with the others before letting him doze off. In a few hours his shoulder would feel as if it had been hit by a gren, and by then he’d be a lot harder to move.
Mildred turned to Katz. “I came here with Jak and four others. We’re supposed to be guests of the baron—can you take us to where my other friends are staying?”
“I’d be happy to,” Katz said. “Anything you need.”
“Thanks.”
“They’re probably in the old sec men’s quarters in the baron’s mansion. I’m going there anyway.”
Mildred helped Jak to his feet and together they exited the building and started walking down a dirt road that knifed its way between rows of small clapboard houses and large steel shacks.
“You do good work,” Katz said as they walked.
“Thank you,” Mildred answered.
“Mebbe you were a healer once?”
“I know some.”
“Bet it comes in handy out there in the Deathlands.”
“Couple of times.”
“You know, if you’re tired of being an outlander, and mebbe wanted to settle down somewhere, I know the baron would be thrilled to have someone like you around.”
Jak, who had been struggling to keep pace, let out a slight laugh.
“You think?” Mildred said.
“Oh, I know it.”
“Well, I’ve had similar offers before, and I’ve always turned them down. I’m not much of a healer really. More like a dabbler.”
“A good one.”