The trees over their heads blotted out most of the sky, but to Alec it seemed to have turned gray.
Smoke?
Then there was a roar like far-off thunder. But instead of grumbling into silence, it grew, it increased, louder and louder until the truck itself began to vibrate.
“The shuttle’s taking off!”
Alec stood up full height and strained for a glimpse of it through the heavy foliage. A flash of silver roared by overhead, and then the thunder diminished, dimmed, grew fainter and fainter until…
The monstrous crack of a sonic boom split the air. Alec had never heard it before, but he smiled despite the shock and pain. “They’ve made it. They’re on their way.”
“Good.” Russo bobbed his head happily.
Kobol’s going back to the satellite. He could return to the settlement and be with my mother in another few days. Even sooner, if he pushes it.
Russo put a big arm on Alec’s shoulder.
“Listen!” he whispered urgently.
The soft .popping sound of a mortar firing.
“Stop the truck.”
It stopped. The mortar sounds came again, off to their right. Somewhere in the thick foliage. The trail they were following curved in the opposite direction.
“We have to leave the truck,” Russo whispered.
He checked the action of his rifle. It moved smoothly, with a deadly-sounding click-click.
Alec bent down over the driver’s rearview slit.
“Stay here and stay buttoned up. If anybody bothers you, fire the laser by remote control.”
“Right,” came the muffled reply from inside the armored cab.
Alec swung his machine pistol off his shoulder.
It was an ugly, short-muzzled weapon with a long magazine built into the handgrip and a wire brace that could be rested against shoulder or hip.
Russo was already on the ground, poking at the bushes alongside the truck. Alec jumped down beside him.
“Got your safety off?” Will asked.
Looking down at the gun, Alec saw that it wasn’t. Red-faced, he flicked the catch with his thumb.
Russo grinned at his embarrassment. “Don’t want to run into some strangers without being able to say hello right away.”
They started into the brush, walking crouched over, Russo in the lead. The foliage was thick and scratched at Alec’s face, arms, legs. The mottled sunlight made his neck burn even more now that he was bent over. Insects droned everywhere, and within a minute Alec felt itches and stings he’d never known before. It didn’t seem to bother Russo at all, so Alec fought down the urge to swat and scratch.
The popping sounds were getting louder, more frequent.
“They’ve got a lot of ammo,” Russo whispered over his shoulder. “Using up their whole winter’s production in hopes of getting your stuff.”
“I hope they haven’t hit any of the trucks,” Alec answered.
“It’s the trucks they’re after,” Russo said. “If one of those gangs can grab off a truck or two, they’ll run merry hell through the countryside — until the laser runs out of fuel or the truck breaks down. Those trucks of yours are like Christmas presents for them.”
Alec nodded with new understanding.
“And your other weapons, of course. Everybody likes to get nice new guns.”
Barbarians, Alec told himself. They’re all nothing more than barbarians.
They flattened out onto their bellies and crawled under some tangled low-lying vines.
Suddenly Russo hissed, “Freeze!”
Alec stayed absolutely still. He could feel his heart pounding, feel the ground slightly moist and yielding underneath him, feel the damp heat soaking into his body. He was sweating, beads of stinging salt dripping into his eyes.
Russo slid back alongside him, whispering, “Up in that big tree, at the top of the ridge…”
Alec lifted his head, making his burned neck hurt anew. In the tallest tree, standing out against the sky, its enormous arms spread widely, newly leafed and bright green, a man was crouching on one of the lower branches. He held a pair of binoculars to his eyes.
“Spotter,” Russo whispered. “The mortars must be within shouting distance of him.”
“Let’s get him!”
Russo put a hand on Alec’s shoulder. “If we pot him before we know exactly where the mortars are, all we’ll be doing is warning the mortar crew. Come on, follow me.”
Slowly, quietly, slithering like snakes, Russo led Alec down away from that spot. They started to make a wide circle of the area. After several minutes, Alec realized what he was doing. He’s swinging around behind the spotter. Behind the mortars.
It took at least a quarter-hour, Alec judged. He didn’t get a chance to look at his wristwatch, they were too busy moving. Finally Russo got cautiously to his knees, looked around, then rose to his feet. They were on the reverse slope of the ridge now, standing in waist-high brush. The big tree that the spotter was using was barely visible; only its crown poked above the ridge line.
“Are you sure that’s the same tree?” Alec asked.
“They all look alike.”
Russo said, “Not after you’ve been here a while.”
“All right. Now what?”
“Now we take a couple of deep breaths, then run like hell for that tree. Shoot the spotter as soon as we see him and spray the mortar crew when they come into sight.”
“You’re sure they’re there?”
Nodding, Russo said, “Yep. Although I haven’t heard any firing for the last few minutes. They might be packing up to move out.”
Alec looked down to check his gun.
“Ready?” Russo asked.
“Yes.”
“Okay…” The redhead sucked in a deep breath. “Now!”
They dashed up the remaining few meters of waist-high brush, Russo in the lead. At the top of the ridge Alec saw him bring his rifle up to armpit level and squeeze off a three-round burst. The i sudden noise of the gun made him jump, despite himself.
Something fell from the tree, a blur that Alec noticed out of the corner of his eye because now he was at the top of the ridge and there were eight men frozen in mid-motion, dismantling the mortars. The tubes and bipod supporters and a half-dozen remaining shells lay scattered around them as they looked up, some crouching, some standing, one of them ridiculously mopping under his chin with a red cloth.
For a split instant Alec saw it all displayed in front of him. Then the men dived for their weapons. Alec felt himself firing his machine pistol. It kicked and clattered in his hands. Sprays of dirt sprouted in the midst of the startled men.
Four of them jerked backward immediately, arms flung crazily and mouths open. Two others seemed to stagger, reach for the guns that were resting on the ground, then fall over. Another pair dived for the brush and started scrambling downslope, away from Alec and Russo.
Alec realized he’d been firing from the hip, spraying the area with bullets. He straightened and brought the gun to his shoulder, sighting carefully at the nearest of the fleeing men.
Russo tapped him on the shoulder. “That’s enough, let them go.”
“But they…”
“Good God, man, what do you want? We’ve killed seven men and got their mortars and personal weapons. What else?”
For the first time, Russo seemed annoyed. Not angry, but annoyed the way a parent gets upset with a naughty child.
Alec put his pistol down. “How do you know they’re dead?”
Looking at the bodies sprawled below them, Russo answered, “If they’re not now, they will be soon.”
Slowly he walked down to the scene. Under the big tree the spotter Jay unmoving, blotches of red welling over his body, his legs crumpled beneath him, his face contorted. Alec turned and looked at the six men near the disassembled mortars. His stomach heaved.