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file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/James%20Axler%20-%20Deathlands%20015 %20-%20Chill%20Factor.html "In water," one of them said, its pendulous breasts swinging beneath the Page 60 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html filthy sacking. "In water," the leader repeated, shaking its head from side to side. "Water, water, water& " they chorused. "Black water takes and black water gives!" the leading trackie shrieked. They began a rhythmic stamping, feet slapping on the rock, back and forth. Behind the tumbled boulders, Ryan and Kate pressed together low, backs against the stones. The SIG-Sauer was drawn and ready while the young woman gripped Ryan's honed panga. "Take and give. Take and give!" The chanting went on, louder and louder, finally beginning to fade away, the noise of the feet also quietening. Still Ryan and Kate kept motionless, not daring to risk a glance along the quay. At last there was silence. He felt the girl stirring and laid a warning hand on her arm. The river, racing by only a yard away from them, was making enough sound to cover any approach by the muties. Ryan waited, counting his own pulse, reaching four hundred before he decided to chance a move. He shifted sideways, managing to keep under cover, and cautiously lifted his head above the barrier. To see a crude iron spear thrusting straight at his face. file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Ja...20Deathlands%20015%20-%20Chill% 20Factor.html (121 of 289) [12/30/2004 2:02:43 PM] file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/James%20Axler%20-%20Deathlands%20015 %20-%20Chill%20Factor.html Chapter Twenty-One There wasn't even time to squeeze the trigger on the blaster. All Ryan's reflexes allowed him to do was to push the automatic pistol at the jabbing spear, getting the barrel between two of the prongs, deflecting the thrust away from his face. His brief look at the trackies had led Ryan to figure them for physical weaklings, which made the demonic power behind the attack even more disconcerting. The trackie pushed with such force that Ryan was barely able to hold him off, the spear lunging in, knocking him backward. Kate yelped as Ryan and the mutie toppled into her, squeezing her into the narrow space at the extreme end of the jetty, inches from the river. The pistol was stuck between the points of the trident, twisting Ryan's wrist sideways, making him gasp with pain. "Bastard norm!" the trackie shrieked, its goggling face pressed close to Ryan's. Its breath was foul, stinking of ancient, rank fish. Its free hand, slightly webbed, clawed toward the man's eye. "Bastard mutie," Ryan retorted, kicking out and upward, feeling the satisfying thud of the steel-toed combat boots grinding into the creature's groin. The next few seconds held the familiar insanity of a lethal fight. Ryan grabbed at the trackie's left hand, ripping the coarse cloth of the sleeve, feeling the sinewy strength of the corded muscles. It spit at him, slimy saliva running down his cheek. file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Ja...20Deathlands%20015%20-%20Chill% 20Factor.html (122 of 289) [12/30/2004 2:02:43 PM] file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/James%20Axler%20-%20Deathlands%20015 %20-%20Chill%20Factor.html There was a flash of bright metal, and he felt the whisper of sliced air against his skin. The mutie jerked in his grasp, and he saw its face open like a peeled orange. The white skin and flesh parted under the hacking blow from the cleaver. Its right eye was cut clean in half, bursting into a pinkish jelly. Page 61 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html "Got him!" Kate gasped, heaving the eighteen-inch steel blade clear of the splintered cheekbone. "Watch out for others," Ryan panted. The trackie had rolled sideways, letting go of its long spear, both its hands reaching toward its ruined face. Not wanting to waste bullets, Ryan drew his own thin-bladed skinning knife. The wounded mutie was turned away from him, crouched over, showing the back of its neck. It was the easiest of instant kills for an experienced knife man. Ryan picked his spot, precisely where the skull joined the spine, and thrust the narrow blade in as hard as he could. Sliding the delicate point perfectly into the narrow gap, severing the spinal cord and killing the trackie instantly. To make sure, Ryan jerked his wrist from side to side as he withdrew the knife, but the albino creature was already down and done for. In its last dying spasm, it kicked the spear toward the edge of the jetty and the dark water. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |