by James Axler
Grumbling and sighing, the kids jumped down from the wagon and quickly scattered. “No news about our missing companions yet?”
Krysty shook her head as she climbed up into the back.
“I trust from your expressions that not all is well in Kansas?”
“Not really.” Krysty lowered her voice. “The natives are restless. Just stand with us, and be ready to run if we have to.”
“Oh, dear.” Doc grabbed the lapels of his frock coat and held them like a sideshow carnival barker. “I stand ready to assist any way I can.”
“Just stand next to us and look dignified for right now,” Krysty replied. “You both ready?” They each nodded. “Let’s do this.”
She turned to the rest of the people around them, all of whom had clustered around the back of the wagon. Elder Chreis stood next to it with his hands raised, trying to keep the crowd from bombarding them with questions, but lowered them at a nudge from Krysty. “It’s all right, Elder.”
She then raised her voice to address the crowd. “I understand that many of you are upset and frustrated about what happened last night. This won’t be much consolation, but the rest of my group and me are just as concerned about our missing people—all of them, yours and ours alike—”
“Even since Bough gave you control of sec, everything’s been going wrong!” yelled a man in the crowd.
“Is that so?” Krysty replied. “It seems to me if we hadn’t been around, you folks would be missing three more people, who instead were saved by us from being carried off.” She took a breath before plunging ahead with her next statement. “You also might have been missing the entire Bough family, instead of simply mourning the loss of Elder Bough. Not to mention how badly last night could have gone if we hadn’t been here. Who knows how many people might been taken if not for us—”
“You were the ones who had us set up camp next to the spring,” another person shouted. “The flood could have killed all of us!”
“Now, just a minute!” Krysty said, raising her voice loud enough to be heard, but not shouting the other man down. “That spot had everything we needed at the time—water, and a defensible location in the event of an attack. Now, this isn’t your first time out in the world. We all know how unpredictable the weather can be. Obviously if we’d known the storm would have been that bad, we would have taken better precautions. But the fact remains that the enemy did try to use it as cover, which would have happened anyway, and if not for the flood, things might have been a whole lot worse, since that was what really broke up their attack.”
Now Elder Chreis stepped forward. “There is no doubt that we have suffered more tribulations in the past few days, from the loss of Elder Bough to the flood and this latest assault by these people. In Elder Bough’s wisdom, he saw fit to put the vote to all of us before we took these folks on, and indeed, I don’t think anyone here can truly speak against their helpfulness and willingness to stand with us against the scourge of those who are stealing our people. In the elder meeting this morning, it was agreed that we would be willing to put their continued assistance to a vote if you all wish it.”
There was a lot of grumbling among the people, but no one was shouting at them anymore, which Krysty took as a good sign.
“I’ll call for the vote!” The woman they knew as Sister Saea pushed to the front of the crowd. “But first, I want to hear what you plan to do about these people. They have to be stopped once and for all, and our people have to be rescued!”
A chorus of agreements and shouts of approval rose in answer to her words, and Krysty nodded once the noise had died down. “On that, you and I are in complete agreement. It is very obvious that these marauders are going to keep coming after you and us until they have gotten what they wanted—apparently, to have every single one of us under their control.”
The muttering and conversation turned nervous and fearful. “I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of letting them call the shots all the time. I want to— No, I’m going to strike back!”
She turned to J.B. on her left and Doc on her right. “Even missing our two people, we can do a lot, but we could do so much more if all of you would stand with us.”
“But there is only so much we can do!” a man shouted. “We have all taken a sacred oath to not spill blood for any reason.”
“But that does not remove you from defending what is yours!” Doc’s voice startled Krysty. Before she could say anything, he continued, “For does not the Good Book say in Psalms, ‘For he will deliver the needy who cry out, the afflicted who have no one to help. He will take pity on the weak and the needy, and save the needy from death. He will rescue them from oppression and violence, for precious is their blood in his sight’?”
No one knew quite what to make of Doc’s pronouncement, although Krysty saw several people make the sign of the cross over their bodies.
Doc stepped forward now, his rich baritone easily carrying over the crowd. “In that particular verse, David was praying on behalf of King Solomon, that he would rule justly and wisely. But the ‘he’ I am referring to is each and every one of you.” Doc pointed into the crowd, his finger seeking out anyone who was looking at him.
“It is easy to lay down your arms and trust that the Lord shall provide,” he continued. “Indeed, perhaps he did provide us to assist you in your time of need. But—” Doc paused, letting the silence build, making sure every eye was following him “—does not the Bible also say that the Lord God helps those who help themselves? For surely you do not count on the Lord to miraculously till your fields and plant your seeds and harvest your crops. No, for while you indeed pray for a bountiful harvest, it is you who provide the labor to make your crops grow and your fields plentiful. It is you who has undertaken this journey to find a place to live and raise your families free from oppression and fear. And now it is up to you—each and every one of you—to defend what you have—your families, your neighbors—from those who would seek to take everything that you hold dear from you.”
Doc drew himself up and stared out over the crowd. “Make no mistake, people of the Silvertide collective. We are all in this together. And either we shall all stand fast against this pernicious evil that seeks to destroy us, or we shall divide, and in that division will be our undoing. Now, what say you all?”
Recognizing when an opportunity had been handed to him on a silver platter, Chreis stepped forward. “All those who wish to have Sister Krysty, Brother John, Brother Theophilus and the rest continue to aid us, speak now.”
The chorus of “ayes” was deafening.
“Any opposed?” Chreis asked.
No one said a word.
“The motion is carried!” Chreis said to another round of cheers.
“That’s all well and good!” Saea cried out when the celebration had died down. “But how are we to stop them?”
Krysty opened her mouth again, but this time another voice spoke before she could. “Got an idea that, if we all work really hard, could swing the odds back in our favor.”
She turned to see J.B. step forward now. “It’s going to take a lot of hard work, and if we want to make it happen, we’ll have to get started right now, so we can be ready for them when they return tonight.”
“How do you know they’re coming back tonight?”
“Simple. They’ve struck at us the past two nights but haven’t gotten what they wanted. Now they’ll see us as being demoralized from the flood, and their somewhat successful attack yesterday. A wise leader would follow up that strike with another one, figuring that we’ll still be recovering from their last attack. But we won’t.” Now J.B.’s intent gaze scanned the entire crowd. “Instead, we’ll be ready for them—all of us.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Three hours later, J.B. sighted down the barrel of the M4 carbine he’d come to consider his over the past coup
le of days. He had considered using Ryan’s Scout longblaster for this, but its ten-round magazine and bolt action would be more hindrance than help in what they were about to do, so he’d stuck with the M4 auto rifle.
His target was a patch of ground about fifteen yards across by the same distance long, at the bottom of the thirty-foot cliff he was lying on. At the far end of the dusty clearing was a bottleneck formed by two cliffs that time had either pushed to within a few yards of each other or worn down the small ravine in between. Steep, nearly unclimbable walls rose into the air on the left and right sides of the hole. The box canyon in which they’d set up their ambush provided ample room for everyone who needed to be there.
“Come on, Jak...shouldn’t be too hard to find some of them,” J.B. muttered. For the fifth time in as many minutes, he checked the rest of his impromptu firing squad.
On his left lay Ricky and Krysty, each aiming an M4 at the killing space below. On his right was Tully, also in a prone shooter’s position, waiting for their prey to take their bait and stampede in.
“You good?” J.B. whispered to Tully.
“Yes, Brother Dix,” she replied, managing to conceal most of her impatience. “I remember everything you taught me.”
“It’s just that this is your first time firing this kind of weapon, so I just want you to be comfortable, that’s all.”
“I’ll be comfortable once Jak’s out of that ravine and back up here,” she replied. Her cheeks flamed red as the import of her words struck her.
Although J.B. noted what she’d said, he didn’t comment beyond a simple, “Me, too. While we’re waiting, let’s go over it one more time. Where’s your firing selector?”
“Single shot. No need for full auto, since we’re in minimal danger from them, and I’ll be aiming every time.”
“Good. How will you select your targets?”
“I’m covering the right side with you. Krysty and Ricky have the left. I’m to wait until you give the word or shoot, whichever comes first. We’re trying to make it easy for the ropers to get the bodies up and clear before they’re taken back by these things.”
“Very good.” J.B. meant it, too. He’d rarely had a student who had picked up the basics of both shooting and tactics so quickly. “What are you aiming for?”
“The head if possible, to preserve the body, but if one of them gets on Jak, I’m to take it out only if you or the others can’t—biggest danger is shooting too close to a friend. If a bullet hits the chest, there’s enough other usable parts so it won’t go to waste. Ride the recoil back, then pick another target as soon as possible and shoot. Repeat until I have to reload, or there’s nothing left to kill.”
“Excellent.” A clatter of rocks sounded in the distance, although J.B. couldn’t see what made the noise. “Get ready.”
“Been ready since we got up here,” she replied, snugging the butt tighter into her shoulder. J.B. did the same, sighting down his barrel just as Jak burst out of the narrow pass, his white hair fluttering in the wind as he pumped his skinny arms and legs for all they were worth.
Following about three steps behind him was a furiously chittering mass of burrow-bugs, their quadruple sets of rear legs churning up dust as they boiled out of the defile after their sprinting prey.
“Hold...hold...” J.B. said, wanting to make sure that Jak was out of the line of fire. “Now.”
The four longblasters cracked as one, and the first trio of bugs all went down with holes in their heads or upper chests. The rest swarmed over them, only to be cut down by the second volley. However, the tide of gray-green monsters continued pouring out of the far end of the clearing.
“Think they’re going to try to pyramid up here, too?” Krysty asked between methodical shots into the teeming mass below.
“If they do—” J.B. took another bug’s head off with a well-placed shot to its throat, the hole spurting green-black ichor as the beast went down under the pounding feet of his fellows “—I’ve got a little surprise for them this time.”
Jak scrambled up over the edge of the cliff and scooted next to Tully, breathing hard from his exertion. He pulled up the rope he’d used to climb the cliff, just in case. “Hot damn! Think fuckers still pissed off from last time.”
“Get on your longblaster and start taking them down,” J.B. said, squeezing off shots every two seconds like clockwork. “The ropers are getting started, and we want to give them plenty to work with.”
From the left and right sides of the cliffs, lariats began sailing down onto the dead burrow-bugs. The lasso wielders targeted the bodies that had fallen close enough to the walls that they could be pulled up without attracting too much attention from the other bugs. Once the loop was tight around them, teams started hauling the bugs up the cliff walls and moving them out of the way so more could be grabbed. Soon, several bodies were being hauled up at a time.
“At the rate they keep coming, we’ll have enough in no time,” Ricky said.
“Yeah...better keep that surprise handy, just in case,” Krysty said as she reloaded her carbine and continued shooting.
“I’ve got it, don’t worry,” he replied. The longblaster team was dividing its fire now. Krysty, Ricky and Jak were shooting into the milling mass at the bottom of the cliff, while J.B. and Tully were still concentrating on bringing down bugs near the left and right walls.
“From my count, the collectors have gotten at least fifteen bodies,” Tully said. “How much longer should we keep firing?”
“I think we’re just about done here,” J.B. said, pleased at her foresight. “Keep the bugs busy until this last round’s been retrieved, and then we’ll quit.”
Krysty, Ricky, J.B., Jak and Tully fired a few more rounds into the roiling mass of burrow-bugs, just enough to keep them off the last few bodies being hauled up by the collective people on each side. The Armorer reloaded his carbine, then stood and watched the tide of gray-green below.
“Looks like they don’t have the numbers to take us on like at the plateau,” Krysty said as she rose to stand next to him.
“Mebbe, but I don’t even think they know we’re up here,” J.B. replied. “Once Jak disappeared and we killed the first few that saw him climbing, it was like the rest didn’t know where to go or what to do except grab the new food right in front of them.”
His observation was correct. The bugs had stopped coming in through the ravine at the other side and were now carrying off the rest of their slain brethren. Once the other bug bodies had vanished from sight, it was as if they had never even existed in the first place.
“So what was your surprise?” Krysty asked. “More plas-ex?”
J.B. shook his head. “Better.” Removing his clenched hand from his pocket, he revealed two small grens. “One high-ex, one implo. They were on the three we chilled from the truck.”
“They’ll come in handy,” she observed.
“One way or the other,” J.B. agreed.
“Think we got enough?” Ricky asked as he also stood and stretched.
“If Tully’s count is accurate, there should be more than enough for what we need,” J.B. said. “Let’s go find out.”
The shooting party headed toward the group on their left, which was the one closest to the encampment. They had brought up ten carcasses all by themselves. J.B. sent the kids over to help the other group, which had lassoed eight bugs. Altogether, there was plenty to go around.
“This is either going to be one of the best ideas you’ve ever had, or the craziest, J.B.,” Krysty said as they helped stack the bug bodies on the back of a wagon.
J.B. thumped on the chest plate of a particularly large burrow-bug with the butt of his M4. “By the time the night’s over, we’ll know the answer to that. But there’s still a lot of work to do before we find out.”
* * *
BACK
AT CAMP, Jak enjoyed the adulation he received at dinner from the rest of the collective. He had to tell the story about how he had lured the burrow-bugs into the killing ground at least three different times, with men, women and children all hanging on his every word. Remembering Ryan’s warning, he kept the bragging to a minimum, just saying he did what he had to do and giving plenty of credit to the shooting group as well as the lasso wielders. “Was group effort. Everybody not work together, we not succeed.” His willingness to risk his life to get the group what they needed, as well as his relative modesty about doing it, had done much to alleviate the previous bad blood felt by the collective, and Jak caught appreciative glances being cast his way by both Krysty and J.B.
That evening’s dinner was being served in shifts, with everyone who wasn’t making food or eating working on creating their surprises for the kidnappers. Since Jak had performed one of the most dangerous jobs in the entire operation, J.B. had given him the rest of the day off, telling him to get some rest, especially since they were most likely going to be up most of the night.
And that had been his plan, at least at first. Jak had been awake for the past twenty hours, what with being in on the fight the previous night, then surviving the flood and helping search for survivors, then watching over the rest of his group while they’d braced the collective about staying on to finish their job. And although he had what often seemed like bottomless reserves of stamina, even Jak found himself yawning as he headed toward the truck to get some shut-eye.
But as he neared it, he saw a folded slip of paper with his name written on it under the windshield wiper. Unfolding it, he read the contents with a widening grin.
