[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
As the sec men climbed from the wag and started to gather wood for the
campfire, Brandon heard an odd thunder in the distance. Glancing at the sky,
the sec man saw purple clouds, laced with fiery orange and crackling with
sheet lightning.
Nothing unusual there. Yet the noise got steadily louder, and the blues moved
toward the APC, grabbing their rifles and checking clips.
"Davies, take me 25 mm," Brandon ordered. "Tell us if you see anything!"
The man popped into the LAV and started up the short ladder to the turret when
men on horseback galloped into view from the valley below. The riders were
half hidden by their mounts, but the sec men could still see the males were
stark naked and heavily covered with scars in decorative patterns. Their long
golden hair was streaming wildly, and the newcomers had wide Oriental eyes and
dark skin.
Bandoliers of ammo crossed their broad chests and blasters rode at every hip,
yet they carried long spears in their hands.
"Fucking coldhearts," the lieutenant said, calmly drawing his handcannon. "Ace
them and take the blasters."
The sec men cut loose with their Kalashnikovs, the rounds hitting man and
beast with little effect. A blue cursed and rummaged for a box of grens, when
the top turret of the LAV-25 rotated to point the 25 mm cannon at the
horsemen. The electric Gatling whined for a moment, building speed, then cut
loose with a roaring staff rod of destruction. Riders and horses exploded into
grisly bits as the high-explosive shells tore through their flesh. The first
line of the riders vanished in the brief salvo.
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20...0Reckoning%20-%20Nick%20Pollotta
%201.0.html (145 of 286) [12/24/2004 11:28:15 PM]
d3
With amazing precision, the other barbs reared their horses, walking them
about on hind legs, then started to gallop away from the armored war wag.
Page 82
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"Again," the lieutenant ordered, laughing and bolstering his piece.
The Gatling roared, and half a dozen more of the riders were blown to pieces
under its furious assault before the rest made it to the safety of the ridge
and disappeared.
"Won't be seeing them again." Brandon laughed, rubbing his hands. "Now, how
about that coffee?"
Suddenly, a row of riders rose from behind the hill, their long spears soaring
into the air before cresting their arc and descending toward the sec men with
fearful accuracy.
The blues scattered, but it was too late. One caught a spear in the shoulder,
the lance going completely through and burying itself to the hilt in the soft
soil
Another was caught through the boot, a third in the hand, his longblaster
smashed to pieces.
Trying to step out of the way of the falling missiles, Michaels was hit in the
mouth, the barbed lance going straight down his throat and out his ass,
impaling the man like a pig on a spit. Still horribly alive, the blue lashed
his arms about feebly, unable to scream with the wooden shaft completely
filling his torn and bleeding gullet. A steady stream of red trickled out,
forming a puddle around his boots.
Cursing vehemently, the lieutenant fired from me hip, blowing Michaels's head
off and the grisly corpse stopped moving.
"Chill those motherfucks!" Brandon yelled, and the LAV-25 rolled to the crest
of the hill. The silent riders were galloping madly along the valley plain
below, way beyond the range of the ineffective Kalashnikovs.
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20...0Reckoning%20-%20Nick%20Pollotta
%201.0.html (146 of 286) [12/24/2004 11:28:15 PM]
d3
A soft electric whine heralded the roar of the 25 mm cannon, coming to deadly
life again, spraying annihilation onto the distant coldhearts. The ground
behind the horsemen churned with explosions as the armor-piercing rounds hit
the soil and detonated. The noise and spray urged the barbs on, but the
Gatling swept over the riders, killing the men and animals indiscriminately.
Only a single rider made it to the trees and disappeared from sight. The sec
man at the Gatling drilled a couple of short bursts into the greenery, then
stopped wasting ammo.
Standing on the hilltop, Brandon fired a few rounds from his blaster at the
escaping killer, then slapped in a fresh clip. Turning, he saw the carnage of
his squad three badly wounded, one dead. As Brandon watched, the sec man with
the lance through his shoulder snapped off the shaft and gritted his teeth as
he pulled himself loose. Blood gushed from the wound, and he stuffed in a
dirty piece of cloth. The other men pinned by the lances did the same,
painfully freeing themselves by sheer determination. Only Michaels stayed in
the same position, the remains of his head lolling to one side as his arms
swung loosely from the gentle wind blowing over his upright corpse.
"Who were they?" Brandon demanded, breathing heavily. "Who the rad-blasted
fuck were those guys!"
A sec man dropped the empty clip from his AK-47 and slammed in a fresh
magazine. "Barbs," he replied angrily. "I heard tell of them as a kid.
Outlanders that ride the Kentucky plains, chilling everybody."
"Cannies?" a private asked, a friend bandaging the wound in his shoulder.
The corporal scratched under his cloth cap. "Nope. They just ace you. Don't
take blasters or food. Don't rape the women. Just kill folks, is all."
Brandon stayed on the hilltop, watching the valley below for any signs of more
barbs. "Why didn't they use those blasters?" he demanded, puzzled. "Give them
a better chance at least. They lost more men than they chilled."
"Those are just trophies from aced foes," the private explained slowly, as if
in disbelief. "They never use the blasters. Just those spears. Or so I heard."
Page 83
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20...0Reckoning%20-%20Nick%20Pollotta
%201.0.html (147 of 286) [12/24/2004 11:28:15 PM]
d3
"Guess it's true," another man stated, wrapping his bloody hand.
From the turret, Davies swung the cannon aside. "You mean they save blasters
like we do ears and dicks?"
"Yep."
"Outlanders," the sergeant stated gruffly. Grabbing a lance, he yanked it
loose from the soil. The weapon was over eight feet long, the barbed spearhead
made of steel that shone like winter ice in the sunlight. "Fresh steel," he
muttered. "These crazies can make new steel and use spears?"
"Lances," Brandon corrected, finally turning away from the forest. "That's no
spear."
The sergeant inspected the weapon curiously. "What's the difference, sir?"
Brandon took it from him and pointed. "A spear has a head. This wep is sharp
from the grip to the tip. A lot more deadly."
"Yeah, I saw that."
After stripping the healer of his blaster, gun belt and boots, the sec men
boarded the LAV-25 and drove away in silence. As the wag dwindled into the
distance, a lone man rose from the tall grass near the still-warm corpse. He
was breathing hard, and his muscular chest was coated with a sheen of sweat.
With knife in hand, the outlander stared hatefully at the escaping iron box.
But the barb wasn't overly concerned, because he knew the ways of the fat
norms. Confident in their own safety, they would stop at night and make a
campfire to cook food. They would sleep in woven cloth, with only one or two
inside the box with its chilling machine. The men inside would be the first to
die, then all the rest.
Scooping up a handful of earth, he stuffed his mouth full and swallowed the
rich dirt. Life renewed filled his body, and on foot the scarred warrior began
to chase after the machine people. In his mind, he was already wearing their
blasters.
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20...0Reckoning%20-%20Nick%20Pollotta
%201.0.html (148 of 286) [12/24/2004 11:28:15 PM]
d3
RICH SMELLS of roasting meat permeated the kitchen of the Tennessee redoubt,
four of the sixteen ovens radiating waves of heat. Wearing an apron, Krysty [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl rafalstec.xlx.pl
As the sec men climbed from the wag and started to gather wood for the
campfire, Brandon heard an odd thunder in the distance. Glancing at the sky,
the sec man saw purple clouds, laced with fiery orange and crackling with
sheet lightning.
Nothing unusual there. Yet the noise got steadily louder, and the blues moved
toward the APC, grabbing their rifles and checking clips.
"Davies, take me 25 mm," Brandon ordered. "Tell us if you see anything!"
The man popped into the LAV and started up the short ladder to the turret when
men on horseback galloped into view from the valley below. The riders were
half hidden by their mounts, but the sec men could still see the males were
stark naked and heavily covered with scars in decorative patterns. Their long
golden hair was streaming wildly, and the newcomers had wide Oriental eyes and
dark skin.
Bandoliers of ammo crossed their broad chests and blasters rode at every hip,
yet they carried long spears in their hands.
"Fucking coldhearts," the lieutenant said, calmly drawing his handcannon. "Ace
them and take the blasters."
The sec men cut loose with their Kalashnikovs, the rounds hitting man and
beast with little effect. A blue cursed and rummaged for a box of grens, when
the top turret of the LAV-25 rotated to point the 25 mm cannon at the
horsemen. The electric Gatling whined for a moment, building speed, then cut
loose with a roaring staff rod of destruction. Riders and horses exploded into
grisly bits as the high-explosive shells tore through their flesh. The first
line of the riders vanished in the brief salvo.
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20...0Reckoning%20-%20Nick%20Pollotta
%201.0.html (145 of 286) [12/24/2004 11:28:15 PM]
d3
With amazing precision, the other barbs reared their horses, walking them
about on hind legs, then started to gallop away from the armored war wag.
Page 82
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"Again," the lieutenant ordered, laughing and bolstering his piece.
The Gatling roared, and half a dozen more of the riders were blown to pieces
under its furious assault before the rest made it to the safety of the ridge
and disappeared.
"Won't be seeing them again." Brandon laughed, rubbing his hands. "Now, how
about that coffee?"
Suddenly, a row of riders rose from behind the hill, their long spears soaring
into the air before cresting their arc and descending toward the sec men with
fearful accuracy.
The blues scattered, but it was too late. One caught a spear in the shoulder,
the lance going completely through and burying itself to the hilt in the soft
soil
Another was caught through the boot, a third in the hand, his longblaster
smashed to pieces.
Trying to step out of the way of the falling missiles, Michaels was hit in the
mouth, the barbed lance going straight down his throat and out his ass,
impaling the man like a pig on a spit. Still horribly alive, the blue lashed
his arms about feebly, unable to scream with the wooden shaft completely
filling his torn and bleeding gullet. A steady stream of red trickled out,
forming a puddle around his boots.
Cursing vehemently, the lieutenant fired from me hip, blowing Michaels's head
off and the grisly corpse stopped moving.
"Chill those motherfucks!" Brandon yelled, and the LAV-25 rolled to the crest
of the hill. The silent riders were galloping madly along the valley plain
below, way beyond the range of the ineffective Kalashnikovs.
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20...0Reckoning%20-%20Nick%20Pollotta
%201.0.html (146 of 286) [12/24/2004 11:28:15 PM]
d3
A soft electric whine heralded the roar of the 25 mm cannon, coming to deadly
life again, spraying annihilation onto the distant coldhearts. The ground
behind the horsemen churned with explosions as the armor-piercing rounds hit
the soil and detonated. The noise and spray urged the barbs on, but the
Gatling swept over the riders, killing the men and animals indiscriminately.
Only a single rider made it to the trees and disappeared from sight. The sec
man at the Gatling drilled a couple of short bursts into the greenery, then
stopped wasting ammo.
Standing on the hilltop, Brandon fired a few rounds from his blaster at the
escaping killer, then slapped in a fresh clip. Turning, he saw the carnage of
his squad three badly wounded, one dead. As Brandon watched, the sec man with
the lance through his shoulder snapped off the shaft and gritted his teeth as
he pulled himself loose. Blood gushed from the wound, and he stuffed in a
dirty piece of cloth. The other men pinned by the lances did the same,
painfully freeing themselves by sheer determination. Only Michaels stayed in
the same position, the remains of his head lolling to one side as his arms
swung loosely from the gentle wind blowing over his upright corpse.
"Who were they?" Brandon demanded, breathing heavily. "Who the rad-blasted
fuck were those guys!"
A sec man dropped the empty clip from his AK-47 and slammed in a fresh
magazine. "Barbs," he replied angrily. "I heard tell of them as a kid.
Outlanders that ride the Kentucky plains, chilling everybody."
"Cannies?" a private asked, a friend bandaging the wound in his shoulder.
The corporal scratched under his cloth cap. "Nope. They just ace you. Don't
take blasters or food. Don't rape the women. Just kill folks, is all."
Brandon stayed on the hilltop, watching the valley below for any signs of more
barbs. "Why didn't they use those blasters?" he demanded, puzzled. "Give them
a better chance at least. They lost more men than they chilled."
"Those are just trophies from aced foes," the private explained slowly, as if
in disbelief. "They never use the blasters. Just those spears. Or so I heard."
Page 83
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20...0Reckoning%20-%20Nick%20Pollotta
%201.0.html (147 of 286) [12/24/2004 11:28:15 PM]
d3
"Guess it's true," another man stated, wrapping his bloody hand.
From the turret, Davies swung the cannon aside. "You mean they save blasters
like we do ears and dicks?"
"Yep."
"Outlanders," the sergeant stated gruffly. Grabbing a lance, he yanked it
loose from the soil. The weapon was over eight feet long, the barbed spearhead
made of steel that shone like winter ice in the sunlight. "Fresh steel," he
muttered. "These crazies can make new steel and use spears?"
"Lances," Brandon corrected, finally turning away from the forest. "That's no
spear."
The sergeant inspected the weapon curiously. "What's the difference, sir?"
Brandon took it from him and pointed. "A spear has a head. This wep is sharp
from the grip to the tip. A lot more deadly."
"Yeah, I saw that."
After stripping the healer of his blaster, gun belt and boots, the sec men
boarded the LAV-25 and drove away in silence. As the wag dwindled into the
distance, a lone man rose from the tall grass near the still-warm corpse. He
was breathing hard, and his muscular chest was coated with a sheen of sweat.
With knife in hand, the outlander stared hatefully at the escaping iron box.
But the barb wasn't overly concerned, because he knew the ways of the fat
norms. Confident in their own safety, they would stop at night and make a
campfire to cook food. They would sleep in woven cloth, with only one or two
inside the box with its chilling machine. The men inside would be the first to
die, then all the rest.
Scooping up a handful of earth, he stuffed his mouth full and swallowed the
rich dirt. Life renewed filled his body, and on foot the scarred warrior began
to chase after the machine people. In his mind, he was already wearing their
blasters.
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20...0Reckoning%20-%20Nick%20Pollotta
%201.0.html (148 of 286) [12/24/2004 11:28:15 PM]
d3
RICH SMELLS of roasting meat permeated the kitchen of the Tennessee redoubt,
four of the sixteen ovens radiating waves of heat. Wearing an apron, Krysty [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]