by James Axler
“What do you think they did with J.B., Doc and Dean?” Mildred asked, her voice masked by the throaty rumble of the wag’s diesel engine.
“I think they’re fine,” Ryan answered. “The sec men left the building after they got Mildred, so they all probably got a good night’s sleep.”
“How long do you think it’ll be until they come after us, lover?” Krysty asked.
“Couple days, mebbe,” Ryan said. “They’ll need to come up with a plan.”
“So we should just relax and make the best of things for the next little while.”
“Yes.” Ryan nodded. “And try to figure a way—”
Ryan’s words were cut off by the butt of a longblaster that caught him square in the jaw.
“No talking until you see the baron, Cyclops!” said the sec man riding in the back of the wag. He raised his blaster again and moved to strike a second blow, but Ryan—with his hands still bound behind him—managed to get out of the way in time, and then put a boot into the man’s midsection. He pushed as hard as he could, sending the man back into his seat, where he hit the wooden bench with a thud.
He got up again, intending to strike Ryan, when the wag began to slow, then came to a full stop.
“Get them ready,” someone called from the cab of the wag. “Baron Fox is waiting.”
At the mention of the baron’s name, the sec man relaxed his stance. Ryan was curious about what the baron might be like considering that the mere mention of his name could put fear into one of his sec men’s eyes.
The wag jerked forward again, and when they were past a heavy steel fence, the gate closed behind the wag, securing them inside the compound.
Ryan figured he wouldn’t have long to wait before he and the baron met face-to-face.
After a short drive the wag pulled into a barn that was full of barrels, bushel baskets and jars. There were remnants of a couple of wags, but they looked as if they’d been stripped for parts. Off to one corner stood an electrical transformer and rows and rows of what looked like batteries. Other items crowded the end of the barn closer to them, everything from farm tools to barrels of diesel and oil, garden tools and power generators, everything a farming operation might need to produce food and keep it guarded until it could be traded for other useful items.
At the other end of the barn was a collection of seven miniwags. These were small, two-man vehicles that ran on electricity. Each of the seven was currently attached to a wall-mounted box that was more than likely the source of electricity that kept the miniwags’ batteries charged.
“I wish J.B. could see all this,” Ryan muttered under his breath as he eased himself off the end of the wag’s flatbed onto the dirty, straw-covered floor of the barn.
A half-dozen sec men ringed the three friends. The rest made their way out of the barn, their mission having been completed. That surprised Ryan since most of the sec men he’d known would have hung around to hear some words of compliment from the baron, but these men obviously weren’t interested in that.
Just then, a small door opened up at the far end of the barn and a man—most likely the baron—entered the building. He was followed by a second man, unarmed, who remained several steps behind and carried a large black book under his arm.
The baron was dressed in a shiny, multicolored bathrobe and wore an equally shiny pair of black boots. He was also smoking a pipe. The man looked pleasant enough, Ryan thought, but if he’d learned anything over the years, it was that looks could be very deceiving, especially where barons were concerned.
“How many men did you lose?” the baron asked, looking over the three friends as if he were inspecting cattle at auction.
One of the sec men stepped forward. Ryan figured him to be the sec chief. “Just the one. This one chilled him,” he said, pointing his blaster at Ryan.
“That why you brought him here?”
“No, sir. If we chilled him, he might have awakened the rest. He—”
The baron nodded as if he weren’t interested in what else the sec chief had to say about Ryan. His attention was suddenly drawn to Mildred. He walked over to her and examined her more closely. After being pushed around and getting on and off the wag with her hands tied behind her back, her clothes had become disheveled and her shirt had opened halfway down her chest. The baron put a hand on her cheek, gauging the texture of her skin and pulling her lips back to examine her teeth.
“Nice,” he said. “Very nice.”
Mildred jerked her head away from the baron’s touch, and the man laughed.
“Spirited, too, I see. I like that. I like that a lot.” He lingered in front of Mildred for a few moments, putting a hand on her neck and letting his fingers roam down her chest, under her blouse and over one of her breasts.
Mildred didn’t move. Instead she stood by impassively, letting the baron squeeze her breast and tweak the nipple. But when he finally looked her in the eye, she said, “You better be enjoying that, mister, because you’re going to be paying the price for doing it.”
The baron withdrew his hand from her breast, seemingly unsure what to make of the dark-skinned woman. And then he laughed. “Oh, that’s good. I like that,” he said. But then just as quickly, the humor was gone from his voice. His eyes narrowed and he moved in closer to Mildred’s face. “I wonder if you’d be just as courageous with a red-hot angle iron shoved up your ass.”
Mildred said nothing, wisely deciding not to press her luck with so many armed sec men around.
The baron moved down the line to Ryan, standing in front of him for long time while his eyes moved up and down his frame. “So, you chilled one of my sec men.”
Ryan said nothing.
The baron turned his head slightly to the side. “What’d he do it with?” he asked the sec chief.
“Bastard big knife,” the sec chief said. “Cut his belly wide open the second we woke him up.”
The baron nodded, obviously impressed. He reached over and flipped up Ryan’s eye patch. Instead of being disgusted by the empty socket, the man seemed intrigued by it.
The baron replaced the eye patch and puffed on his pipe. Then he reached between Ryan’s legs to fondle his genitals.
Ryan wanted nothing more than to put his knee into the man’s groin and then stomp on his neck as he flopped around on the ground, but he knew it would be the last move he ever made. So instead of fighting back, Ryan followed Mildred’s lead and did nothing.
“Hmm,” the baron said. “You just might prove to be a useful addition to my operation.” He took his hand away and ran his fingers through Ryan’s hair. “Ruggedly handsome. You wouldn’t have any problems finding a breeder to rut with, would you?”
The baron moved on to Krysty.
“Ah, saved the best for last, I see.”
He stepped in front of her, then did a slow walk around her so that he could appreciate her from all angles. There was a wide smile on his face.
“I knew she was attractive from afar,” the baron said, “but I had no idea…”
Krysty’s sentient hair was curled tightly around her head and shoulders, and the rest of her body looked just as uncomfortable with the baron’s attention.
“The possibilities…” the man muttered. There was a fire alight in his eyes.
He stood there in front of Krysty for the longest time, simply looking at her body.
The sec men seemed to be getting tired of just standing around. Finally the sec chief asked a question. “What do you want us to do with them?”
The baron turned to Ryan and Mildred and said, “Put these two in gen pop, working the orchards.”
“And the redhead?”
“Take her to my quarters and make her comfortable,” the baron said. “I’ve got something special in mind for her.”
Chapter Twelve
Two boats full of raiders, blasters and fish shoved off from the southern shore of Erie Lake before the sun was at its highest point in the sky. Sec chief Ganley took the navigator’s position o
f the first boat, since he was the one in charge of the mission and it was only right that he take the lead. Later, when they were out of view of the people of Reichel ville who’d gathered to send them off, he would take his turn paddling, just like everyone else.
The plan was to travel along the southern shore of Erie Lake until dark, then make camp for the night and set out the next day on the second leg of their water journey. Then, sometime on the second day, they would land at the old garrison that guarded the mouth of the river there.
Another night’s rest and they’d make the final part of their journey overland, heading straight north until they hit upon their destination. Ganley wasn’t happy about having to travel so far overland, but it was easier and safer than risking the river and the treacherous falls at its end.
“Stroke…stroke…stroke…” the sec chief called out, keeping a steady pace.
Despite the extra passengers and the load of dried fish, the boats were making good progress. Perhaps they wouldn’t be spending as much time on the water as he’d thought.
J.B., JAK, DEAN and Doc left the hotel, slightly burdened by Ryan’s, Krysty’s and Mildred’s belongings. J.B. had wanted to leave the bags of fruit behind, but Doc insisted that they take the food with them. Even though the fruit had been tainted by some sort of drug, Doc thought that he’d be able to make use of at least one bag during their trip.
J.B. didn’t press the matter. If the old man wanted to take the fruit, then he was free to carry it himself.
The four friends moved slowly through the ville’s blasted core. While they were always on the lookout for anything of value that they could use, especially now that they had to rescue the others, it was clear the ville had already been picked clean by local barons, travelers and muties. Plenty of useful items were likely still hidden away inside the ville, but they didn’t have time to search blindly through dozens of homes and buildings looking for needles in haystacks.
As they walked past the large high tower that overlooked the falls, J.B. stopped to look up at the great concrete needle.
“What are you thinking?” Dean asked.
“That there was someone up there yesterday watching us enter the ville.”
“Think someone there now?” Jak asked.
“Don’t know.”
“Want find out?”
J.B. thought about it, then said, “Yeah.”
They headed toward the tower and entered through the smashed entryway. The little shops inside had been cleaned out of the most useful items, and only little trinkets bearing pictures of the falls remained. Dean picked up a few and stuffed them in his pockets.
Jak checked out the routes to the top. The elevators weren’t working, but the stairs were clear. There were no signs of any sec men guarding the base of the tower, which meant that the top would likely be clear, as well. “Take stairs,” Jak said when he’d finished his recce.
J.B., Dean and Doc followed the teenager into the stairwell. They had gone up three flights when Jak suddenly stopped and turned.
“Muties,” he said to the friends behind him.
J.B. looked up the twisting staircase and could see three of the thin, spiderlike creatures standing on the stairs above them, unmoving and seemingly wary of the friends.
“Let’s blast them,” Dean suggested, always eager for a fight.
“No,” J.B. commanded. “We can’t shoot around corners, and there’s no telling what kind of ricochets we’ll get off this concrete.”
“Want go back down?” Jak asked.
“Mebbe,” J.B. said.
“But you would very much appreciate getting a good lay of the land from the vantage point offered by this magnificent tower, correct?” Doc asked.
“Yeah, a good recce of the area would be real helpful.”
“Then might I try something I have in mind that I think will rid us of these muties and get us to the top of the tower without firing a shot.”
“I’m open to suggestions, Doc,” J.B. said.
Without another word, the old man took several steps toward the top of the tower. The muties backed away from him, matching his movements step for step and keeping the distance between them constant. When he reached the next landing, Doc stopped and put about a dozen pieces of fruit on the floor, then rejoined J.B., Jak and Dean.
“What now?” Jak asked.
“Patience,” Doc said. “Give them a minute.”
But seconds later the muties were coming down the stairs and tearing savagely into the fruit.
“Let us go,” Doc said, leading the way.
The friends had their blasters at the ready as they passed the feeding muties, who were so ravenous they didn’t stop eating to even look up as they passed.
In seconds the four companions were again hurrying toward the top of the tower, the sounds of hungry muties fading slowly behind them.
“What about on the way down?” J.B. asked.
“I think we shall find them rather cooperative at that point,” Doc answered.
“They’re just going to let us pass?” Dean questioned.
“No, I suspect they will all be quite fast asleep by then.”
MILDRED AND RYAN WERE led out of the barn by three sec men. Two of the white electrically powered mini-wags were waiting for them.
“Get on the back of the wag,” a sec man ordered.
The two friends climbed up onto the wag with their backs to the driver. The other two sec men got into the second wag and when the driver pulled away, they followed.
“Where do you think they’re taking us?” Mildred asked Ryan.
“Probably to work the fields with the rest of the slaves,” Ryan answered.
“What do you think they’ll do with Krysty?”
Ryan shook his head slightly. “Don’t know.”
“She’ll be all right. She can take care of herself.”
“It’s not Krysty that I’m worried about.”
“Who then?” Mildred asked.
“The baron. I’m worried Krysty will chill him before I get the chance to do it.”
They continued to roll past the trees. Ryan tried to gauge how fast they were traveling so he could get an idea how big the farm was, but he stopped trying after a while. There was no point to it. Fox Farm was a huge operation, probably growing enough fruit and vegetables to supply several eastern villes.
The wags began to slow, and Ryan craned his neck to have a look around. People were working in the trees, picking fruit under the watchful eyes of even more sec men. Others crawled over the ground on all fours pulling weeds from the earth between the trees. These people were also watched closely by sec men, and every once in a while one would get a blaster butt slammed into his back or thigh.
“Get out!” the sec men in the second wag ordered when the miniwags came to a stop.
Ryan and Mildred got off the wag and stood with their hands still bound behind them. A sec man overseeing the workers approached, pulled a knife from a scabbard on his belt and cut them both free.
“Start picking!” the sec man in charge of the work detail shouted.
Ryan and Mildred headed toward the trees that were being picked by the rest of the crew and started working themselves, trying to keep busy while they attempted to figure out how things worked out in the fields.
At the edge of the stand of trees a sec man and a woman were having what looked like a rather heated discussion. Suddenly she dropped down on her knees in front of him and for a moment it looked as if he were going to chill her with his blaster. But instead of shooting her, he shouldered his weapon and began unbuttoning his pants.
The workers had stopped picking fruit and were now watching the woman provide the man with a sexual favor.
“Keep working!” another sec man shouted.
Slowly the pickers went back to doing their job. Ryan and Mildred began picking fruit like the others, but Ryan was still able to watch the couple out of the corner of his eye.
The sec man had pulled
out his cock and the woman had taken it in her mouth. He was thrusting against her, holding her head roughly in place. The rest of the workers had gotten back to work as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.
When the man was done, he pushed the woman away and did up his pants. She walked back toward the others, a resigned expression on her face.
“What kind of place is this?” Mildred asked.
“Don’t know,” Ryan answered. “But before we know for sure, let’s just get busy picking fruit.”
WHEN THEY REACHED the top of the tower, J.B., Jak, Doc and Dean spent a few minutes admiring the view. Even though Mildred had said only a small amount of water was flowing over the falls, they were still an impressive sight.
But more important than the view of the falls was that they were better able to see Fox Farm from the top of the tower, and could get an idea of its layout. It was located on the northwest corner of an intersection between two roads that had long ago been overgrown with weeds. The farm had to stretch a mile or more in each direction because the far northern corners of the fence were just visible from their vantage point.
Two large buildings stood near the front gate of the complex where the friends had traded for fruit. Set back from the gate was a large rectangular two-story building, which seemed to be the focal point. A tower rose from its center, allowing the sec force to oversee a large portion of the farm. If they were going to rescue Ryan and the others, they would definitely have to take the main building. If nothing else, the tower would have to be knocked over because one or more sec men positioned inside would be able to cover the entire farmyard with a carpet of blasterfire, taking down everything in its path.
Behind the main building were rows and rows of trees that stretched to the north. The shapes and sizes varied, and in between a few of the rows were patches of brown soil that were probably used for growing vegetables.
To the left of the orchards were two rows of tiny cabins where either the sec men or farmworkers lived.
“A lot of places to hide once we’re inside,” J.B. said.
Jak nodded in agreement. “Have to fight house to house. Tree to tree. Many sec men get chilled.”
