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The engine coughed and died mere feet away from the snarling creature, but
continued rolling. The safety cage slammed into the mutie, crushing it against
the nuke-proof door of the redoubt with a sickening crunch. Howling in pain,
the bleeding creature clawed at the metalwork, struggling wildly.
"Not dead? Try this!" Jak yelled, and fired his Colt Python directly into its
exposed brain, pink goo splattering onto the door and rocks.
Convulsing, the mutie jabbed the barbed tip of its scorpion tail through the
openings of the cage. Struggling to undo the lock of the cage, Jak dropped his
empty blaster and slashed at the creature with a knife. It shook the wreckage
in unbridled rage, and, incredibly, began to shove the motorcycle off its
trapped form.
"Cover fire!" J.B. shouted, emptying the shotgun as more pink brains blew out
of its smashed skull.
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Only a second behind, Doc lunged forward, skewering the beast through the
chest, then twisting his sword, so the blade opened wide the wound. Emerald
blood poured from the gash, quickly slowing to a trickle. A tail lashed at the
old man, and he nimbly ducked out of the way, slicing off the barbed tip.
A crackling sound could be heard from the distant line of trees, withered
leaves raining to the ground by the thousands.
Climbing on the wreckage, Krysty and Mildred emptied their blasters at the
creature, as Dean got Jak loose. They hastily retreated, and seconds later
Ryan crashed into the beast with another bike. A wash of greenish blood
vomited out the mutie's mouth, and Ryan fired his handblaster at the beast.
Ichor pouring from a dozen wounds, the mutie spit sticky phlegm at the
one-eyed man and demonically tried to rise again.
Grinding gears, Ryan rolled the bike backward a few yards, then hit the
throttle and slammed into the creature again, driving the safety cage of the
first bike into its body, dicing the mutie into pieces. Legs and claws
wiggling, it began to reform once more, but it was pinned helplessly to the
"Stay close!" Ryan ordered, wriggling past the bikes and managing to reach the
keypad. It was covered with greenish blood, so he wiped the alphanumeric pad
clean with a bare hand and tapped in the entry code.
Avoiding the claws and whipping tail of the mutie, which were stretching for
them, the itching humans waited impatiently as the massive doors cycled open,
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the brown grass sweeping closer by the second.
"In!" Ryan commanded, and squeezed through the widening crack. As the last
person rushed through, the one-eyed man keyed the sequence that would close
the door.
Cutting away from the mouth of the access tunnel, just as a safety precaution,
paused as he looked over the garage of the underground base. It seemed cleaner
than he remembered from their last visit, and there were tools on the walls.
Dimly, he recalled the place had been completely stripped, but they had been
in so many
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Axler,_James_-_Deathlands_47_-_Gaia's_Demise redoubts it was easy to get them
confused occasionally.
"By gad, I hate Tennessee," Doc spit, bolstering his nearly spent LeMat.
"There are always traps of some kind at this accursed redoubt!"
"Check your ammo," Ryan said, checking his own blasters. The Steyr was out,
SIG-Sauer down to six rounds.
"Out," J.B. snapped. "Haven't got a thing left."
Scowling, Dean dropped his clip and slapped it back in the butt of his
"Four rounds."
"One round," Mildred stated, patting her pockets. She had six speed loaders
for her target pistol, but none of them held a single bullet. Just the casings
she used for combat reloading.
"Same here," Krysty said, closing her revolver, then added, "You want to drop
that now, or are you keeping it as a souvenir?"
Jak stared at her, confused, then saw a ropy length of forked tongue clenched
tight in his grip. In disgust, he threw it away and wiped his fingers clean on
his pants.
The teenager started to speak when alarms cut loose all over the base, bells
clanging, and Klaxons howling in deafening volume.
"Fireblast! There must be leakage through the armor somewhere!" Ryan cursed,
looking about quickly. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but then microwaves
were invisible. "Head for the mat-trans chamber!" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]


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