Deathlands 074: Strontium Swamp

by James Axler

  It was the last thing the recce party needed. There was no way they would be hit by the first volley, but as it forced the crowd to part, it gave the sec party chasing them an easier path…and a clearer shot.

  “Jak, find a side street soon,” J.B. gritted.

  The albino hunter had an inkling that he understood what the Armorer had planned—it was no more than he would have done himself—so he complied as soon as possible. A narrow street on the right would start to double them back toward the dormitory building that concealed their escape. Jak took the right turn, and the others followed.

  The street was almost empty, the human traffic being confined mostly to the main drag, and it was lit by five electric lamps spaced the length of the street. J.B. raised his mini-Uzi as he ran, with the blaster set to short bursts, and hit the lamps with chattering SMG fire that shattered them. For good measure, he took out the vid unit that stood on one lamppost, silencing the flow of drivel about the mightiness of Dr. Jean.

  Ryan grinned. The darkness marked their path, but would make it harder for the sec party to draw a bead on them.

  But J.B. hadn’t finished. Jak led them onto another thoroughfare, cutting across to a side street almost diagonally opposite. As they ran across, cutting through the crowd and pushing people out of their way, J.B. dropped back so that he brought up the rear of the recce party. He turned on his heel and fired above the heads of the crowd, taking out some of the lights and plunging a portion of the street into darkness. Lowering his arc of fire, he also took out some of the startled pedestrians. Whether he chilled or merely injured them was of no significance to him. What mattered was that, as they went down, the street erupted into panicked chaos.

  J.B. turned once more on his heel and raced to catch up with the others. As he suspected, there was no return fire from the street behind him. From the behavior of those in the square, he had deduced that they were unused to any blasters being used in the ville except by the sec force, and as Dr. Jean’s mind-control techniques worked so well, that was probably a rarity. So to actually fire into them would cause panic and confusion rather elicit return fire, and the more panic and confusion, the harder it would be for the sec to follow them.

  Now all they had to worry about was another sec force intersecting them…and the small matter of finding their way back to their own way out of the ville.

  The vid screens on the street corners were now filled with images other than those relating to Dr. Jean: they were filled with images of the recce party running through the streets. A voice exhorted the people to help the sec force stop these intruders, who were already responsible for chilling innocent citizens—with which the screens lit up, repeating images of J.B.’s spray ‘n’ pray fire into the crowd a few moment before.

  So everyone in the ville would now be on their tails, and it certainly answered the question about whether Dr. Jean had surveillance camera tech. In turn, this would make attaining their exit safely all the more difficult.

  They had no time to take in any more of their surroundings. The streets became a blur of artificial light, people and moving buildings. No time now to make a proper recce, they had seen enough before this, anyhow. Now all they had to do was get the hell out. Ryan had no idea where they were headed, he could only trust to Jak’s instinct.

  The albino cut across more streets, this time firing to left and right of him with the Colt Python, clearing a path before him. The recce party was now using its handblasters to clear a path, zigzagging the sporadic and random bursts of fire that spit past them. Some of the residents were alert enough to react when the recce party burst past them, and drew their blasters to fire on them, but the fire from the running men was enough to deflect their aim. And now, after seeing the vid broadcasts as they took flight, they had no illusions that they could proceed without being noticed.

  All that mattered now was to get back to the exit tunnel down the sewer. And only Jak could guide them.

  Ryan wondered where the hell they were going. They had headed off the main drag and were running hell-for-leather down a series of back alleys that ran behind the old buildings that faced onto the main roads.

  Suddenly, Jak stopped and halted them with a hand. They pulled up short, all gasping for breath, LaRue and Prideaux almost sobbing as they gulped the air into their lungs, every breath catching painfully in their throats. They had run down at least four intersecting alleyways, and they had no idea where they were. In the distance, they could hear shouts and the sounds of commotion. They could also hear wags rumbling in the ville, transporting sec men to the last known locations to mount a search of the area.

  So much for keeping the recce mission low key.

  “Why stopped?” Ryan gasped.

  “Lost them for while, and no cameras. Look.” Jak gestured upward, and Ryan could see that there were no vid screens and no posts on which cameras could be mounted.

  “That’s okay so far,” Ryan panted, “but what—”

  “Ryan, we left the screens behind a while back. And I’ll tell you something else…” The Armorer indicated to one side of the alleyway. It was a brick wall, with a four-story building behind it.

  Ryan allowed himself a laugh. “Fuckin’ A—you did it, Jak. And they won’t be able to find our escape route. Let’s get to it.”

  In their exhausted state, the twelve-foot wall was more daunting than it would have been ordinarily. Jak went up first, given a lift by Ryan and J.B. Once up, he laid himself down and extended an arm to LaRue while Ryan and J.B. assisted him to scramble up. After a struggle, he was on the wall.

  “Shit—weak link, Jak. Get started on the cover,” he gasped heavily and almost incoherently. Jak slapped the bald man on the shoulder to acknowledge what he was saying, and leaned down to help Prideaux up while LaRue lowered himself to the ground on the other side and ran across to the cover over the sewer access.

  Prideaux was able to ascend with greater ease, and was soon over by his fellow fighter, helping him to remove the cover. The fat man dropped into the sewer, sliding down the ladder.

  Back by the wall, Ryan had lifted himself up and clapped Jak on the shoulder. “Go—I’ll help J.B.”

  The albino nodded and slipped down onto the ground, moving like a silent white shadow over the ground to the open sewer access.

  Ryan reached down for J.B., and the Armorer grabbed at his hand and tried to scramble up the wall. His feet lost their purchase on the wall, and with a curse he fell to the ground on the wrong side of the wall. Looking to his left and right, he could see nothing, but the sounds of pursuit were closing in.

  “Dark night, why do I always have to take it last,” he hissed at Ryan, pulling himself to his feet and taking a running jump at the wall. He gained enough height, and grabbed at the top of the wall. He felt Ryan’s iron grip on his wrists, and the one-eyed man hauled up his old friend.

  “Because I know I can trust you to get it right,” Ryan grinned as J.B. made the top of the wall safely.

  “Well, thanks,” J.B. replied, not bothering to keep the sarcasm from his voice. “I’ll bear that in mind next time I’m being shot in the ass.”

  The two men dropped down and ran across the yard in a crouch. Ryan waved J.B. down first, ignoring the sly grin the Armorer gave him as he entered the tunnel. Ryan paused and took a good look around before he followed. The yard was quiet, there was no sign of any cameras or anyone who could catch sight of them. At least they wouldn’t be followed from this end.

  He lowered himself into the tunnel, feet groping for the ladder, and pulled the metal access cover over the hole as he retreated into the dark of the narrow ladder shaft.

  By the time he had secured the cover and descended the ladder to the bottom, the concrete pipe was lit by the two torches, which the swamp dwellers had retrieved from where they had safely stashed them on the way out. They had waited in the dark until J.B. had reached bottom, then used his flint lighter to fire up the torches. They were giving off a strange hybrid smell, where
the sewage water they had used to extinguish them mixed with the alcohol that had soaked into the rags. The burning effluent and the alcohol produced a roasted smell of indefinable unpleasantness, and also reduced the flame from its previous bright yellow and orange to a purple-blue.

  “Fireblast, what are those people eating and drinking to make it like that?” Ryan said, pointing to the torches.

  “Who knows, but we need a better light than that,” J.B. said, shaking his head. “You got any more of that alcohol?”

  LaRue frowned. “Aw, man, you gotta be kidding. I’m gonna need that to get me back home.”

  “We don’t get a good light, then we’re not gonna get home,” the Armorer replied, gesturing for the bald swamp fighter to hand over his canteen.

  LaRue looked at Prideaux, who indicated his agreement with a brief nod. Sighing heavily, LaRue got out his canteen, took one last swig and poured the remains over the burning torches, which Prideaux held at arm’s length. Both flared brightly, causing the recce party to wince at the sudden brightness, and then settled into an orange-and-yellow flame that was possibly brighter than before. Gobbets of flaming alcohol hissed and whooshed as they dropped from the torches into the effluent.

  “More like it. Let’s haul out as fast as we can,” Ryan said.

  They trawled their way through the sewer, back the way they had come, until they reached the point where the broken pipe began to slope up. As they reached it, Ryan stayed them with a gesture.

  “So far, so good. Now we need to check this out.”

  “Let me,” Jak murmured. “Fresher than you.”

  Ryan nodded. Certainly, the albino hunter looked less tired than the rest of them, and was moving with much more ease. But more than that, he had the hunting instincts to know if there was anyone watching at the top of the pipe, or a sec patrol roaming nearby, he would be able to hear and track it. The last thing they wanted was to give away their position before they were clear of the ruined city.

  Having arranged to signal his return with a bird call he sometimes used on such operations, Jak left them waiting at the bottom of the pipe. LaRue and Prideaux waited anxiously, barely able to control their nerves. They were exhausted and strung out, could hardly wait to put as much distance between themselves and the Lafayette stronghold of Dr. Jean as possible. By contrast, although they were also exhausted, Ryan and J.B. felt strangely calm. They had seen what the mad baron had to offer, and they had trust in Jak to find them a safe passage back into the bayou.

  They didn’t have to wait long. The call sounded softly, but still jarring in the total silence of the pipe, before the albino picked his way down.

  “No sec outside. If got radio, then outside patrols not tracking back. Can hear noise inside ville walls, but figure still looking for us there.”

  Ryan gave a short laugh and shook his head. “Same old shit. So arrogant in their position that they can’t figure how we could get out. Fuck ’em, let’s use that time they’ve given us.”

  The recce party climbed out of the broken sewer pipe, squeezing themselves out into the narrow alleyway where the access was hidden. Moving swiftly and silently, realizing that they were, to all intents and purposes, alone in the ruined city but not wishing to make their presence obvious, they made their way by the shortest route to the outskirts of old Lafayette, passing through the ruins of West Lowellton.

  They paused at the point were the swamps began to reclaim the ruined suburb.

  “Okay, we need to keep it real cool and look for the sec patrols,” Prideaux muttered, still keeping his voice low, even though the surrounding area seemed deserted. “If we’re lucky, we can make it through without encountering any of them.”

  “Do you know the routes they take, and how regular their passes are?” Ryan questioned.

  Prideaux shrugged. “Not really. We don’t go near enough to make notes, you know what I’m saying? How about you, LaRue? Ever noticed anything like that?”

  The bald fighter tugged on his beard and thought about it for a moment. “Dunno. Tell you one thing, though, they all seem to move out from their wags in a clockwise direction, spiraling, and they keep quiet the whole time. Ain’t no help, I know, but all I’m saying is that we’ve got to be real careful.”

  Jak frowned. “No noise and no scent. Got to be ready to blast anything moves out there.”

  There was a moment’s silence as the problem hit them in its entirety. There was no way they could plan to move around the worst of the patrols. All they could do was to quite literally trust to blind luck.

  It wasn’t the greatest of prospects.

  J.B. looked up at the night sky. It was starting to lighten with the encroaching dawn. “Mebbe we’ll be all right,” he murmured. “Sun should be up in about an hour, and if they come back during the day, then as long as we avoid the main paths, we should be okay. We can hear the wags, if nothing else. Other thing we need to watch is if they’ve got a radio system working in those wags.”

  Ryan understood immediately, even though Prideaux and LaRue looked a little confused. “Let’s hope that they think we’re still in the ville,” he said with a mirthless grin. “Otherwise we’re gonna be running an obstacle course in a blindfold.”

  “Given the choice, I think I’d rather take that right now,” J.B. replied wryly. “Let’s haul ass.”

  Ryan agreed, and the recce party headed out into the swamplands, keeping close and moving in single file. They kept to the lesser used and little known paths that had been cut by the swamp dwellers during Dr. Jean’s rule. These were disguised and ran in oblique patterns to lead anyone who may stumble upon them away from the hidden settlement. Only rebels like Prideaux and LaRue knew when to diverge from them and hit other paths that had been cut.

  If the sec from the walled ville of Lafayette ever stumbled across these paths, it would be by accident, and they would have little idea of their true use. However, the recce party still proceeded with triple-red caution, knowing that at any moment they could cross paths with the undetectable sec patrols.

  They moved swiftly and in silence, as they had on the outward leg. There was no sign of any life on the return leg, no clue as to where the sec patrols may be, and so everyone felt the tension build on them, exacerbated by the still-oppressive atmosphere that hung like a tangible fog over the bayou. Nerve-endings jangled and heart rates exceeded the exertion of the trek.

  They were well into the swamp, and skirting around the area where the swampies had gathered, when Jak stayed them with a gesture.

  “Listen—in distance,” he whispered in reply to Ryan’s questioning glance.

  They could hear the rumble of a wag and the whine of its engine as the gears ground to cover the uneven turf and mud of the swamp. Listening closer, there were other wags whose engine notes were farther away, but could be heard blending into the overall sound.

  “Guess that settles that—they’re on their way back. About time, too,” J.B. added, looking up at the lightening skies above the canopy cover of the trees.

  “Yeah. It’ll make getting home just that bit easier,” LaRue said with an audible relief in his tone.

  They relaxed, but not that much, as there were still other dangers that could spring at them, they resumed their journey through the swamp. With the sec patrols safely on their way back to the walled ville of Lafayette, there were only natural hazards that stood in their way.

  By the time the sun had broken over the horizon, they had skirted the treacherous quicksands and bogs within the swamp, moved past any wildlife that could have posed a threat, and avoided any roving hunt parties of swampies. They were almost home.

  Home… Jak found himself thinking of the settlement in that way. Not because of the actual place, but because of the people in it: not just Marissa—although she was a part of it—but all of them. They were bayou people like himself, and ones who had opted to take the rough path rather than give in to the mad Baron Dr. Jean.

  Yeah, home sounded good.


  They reached the settlement and were escorted in by scouts who patrolled the area at all hours, protecting the hidden position of the ville. Waiting for them were the elders of the settlement, including Marissa and Beausoleil, as well as Krysty, Doc and Mildred. Marissa was eager for them to make an immediate report, but Beausoleil could see that they were exhausted after their mission. He overruled her, asking Mildred and Krysty to take them away and make sure they were fed and rested before any further action was taken.

  All five of the recce party were grateful for that. It would give them time to recover, and also to think about what they had seen in the ville. For all of them had very different ideas about what should be done.

  “NO! I CAN’T BELIEVE you’re saying that. What are you, some kind of fuckin’ stupe coward? You… Ah, I can’t believe that Jak would have anything to do with you!”

  Almost spitting out the last sentence with disgust, Marissa turned on her heel and stormed toward the door of the hut. Prideaux rose and cut off her retreat, grabbing her by the shoulders.

  “Hey, princess, wait and hear what everyone has to say. You can’t go around saying shit like that about people just ’cause you don’t like what they say,” he added as she pulled herself away, eyes flashing.

  “I’ll say what the fuck I like,” she shouted, aware suddenly of how stupe she was making herself sound, like a petulant child. “Shit, Ryan, I didn’t mean—”

  Ryan dismissed her apology with a gesture. “Doesn’t matter. It’s only words in the heat of the moment. Doesn’t change what I think.”

  “Didn’t think it would,” she snapped back, eyes suddenly afire once more.

  Her anger had been caused by Ryan’s considered conclusions about attacking the walled ville within the ruins of old Lafayette. After the recce party had slept for a few hours, eaten and bathed so that they felt more awake, they had convened with the elders of the settlement for a debriefing. The whole population knew what the recce party had been for, but were to be told the details after the five-man party had been able to put their views individually in counsel.