Shatter Zone. James Axler
Читать онлайн книгу.
hell can that be possible? You can’t carry a bucket of light! he pondered.
Glancing down, John felt his gut tighten at the sight of no shadows on the ground, not even behind the rocks set around the crackling fire. Experimentally, he tilted a boot, and there was no shadow underneath. That was impossible. Mother-nuking flat-out impossible. Light had to come from somewhere. Air didn’t fragging glow! He paused at that. Actually, yes, it did, but only at the bottom of blast craters thick with rads.
Looking for his brothers, John saw Robert standing over by the truck with the loaded crossbow in his hands, the bald man’s eyes darting about madly. Alan was walking toward the horses…
John blinked and looked again. No. Alan was backing away from the horses, and there was an outlander strolling toward them!
The fellow was slim and pale, and his hair was slicked down flat to his head, the soft face as smooth as a young girl’s. The outlander was wearing some sort of white outfit, kind of like a robe that draped from his shoulders down to the silvery moccasins. Oddly everything he wore was spotlessly clean, damn near looked brand-new. Now, that was weird enough, but even more bizarre was the fact that the outlander didn’t have any weapons. There wasn’t a sign of a blaster, blade or a bomb. Yet he was smiling broadly as if he had just won a big hand of poker in a friendly ville.
“Feeb,” Alan whispered, raising both knives.
“Loon,” Edward retorted, leveling his wep.
“Hello, Rogans,” the outlander said with a friendly wave. “My name is Delphi, and we should talk.”
“Frag that,” Robert snorted, frowning at the use of their family name. “Take him!”
Grunting in acknowledgment, Edward instantly fired, the arrow from the crossbow flying straight for the outlander. But a few feet away from the man, it smashed apart in midair, as if hitting a brick wall. The broken pieces tumbled to the sand.
What the nuke? With a snarl, John raised his blaster and cut loose with both barrels, just as Alan jerked his hands forward. But the spray of birdshot and the knives impacted the same invisible barrier around the outlander and ricocheted away.
“Done yet?” Delphi demanded, impatience flashing in his silvery eyes.
This damn mutie is laughing at us, John realized in cold shock. Laughing at the Rogan brothers! As if we were children playing games!
Just then a large rock slammed onto the shield, or whatever it was, around the outlander, and shattered into pieces. Breathing heavily from the exertion, Edward stared at the stranger more in puzzlement than fear.
“Let me know when you’re done,” Delphi said, sounding annoyed. “We have business to discuss.”
Muttering a curse, Robert threw the pipebomb. It landed behind the pale outlander and detonated, the blast throwing out a death cloud of sand, pebbles and iron shrapnel. The entire grove of cactus shook, dropping a hundred pieces of fruit, and just for a single moment there was clearly defined shape around the outlander, some sort of glass ball or transparent sphere. Then the force of the blast faded away, the rolling noise echoing into the open desert.
Not glass, John realized, squeezing his weapon in frustration. But some kind of shield. There was an invisible wall as hard as iron around the newcomer. Was this some form of mutie mind power or predark tech? His bet would be for tech. But there was no way to be sure.
“Enough,” Delphi said, making a gesture. A blue light engulfed Edward and the big man dropped to the ground as if poleaxed.
Rushing over to the sprawled form of his brother, Robert saw that the huge chest was still rising and falling. His brother was only knocked out, but Robert had no doubt that the outlander could have aced Edward if he wanted. Shitfire, the outlander could chill them all at his whim.
“What…who are you?” Alan asked in a strained whisper. His hands flexed as if reaching for more of his hidden knives, but no blades came into sight.
Tilting his head slightly, Delphi gave a half smile as if enjoying a secret joke. “I have already told you my name,” he said in an even tone. “And as of this moment, you now work for me.”
“Yeah?” Robert growled, notching another arrow into the crossbow. “What if we don’t wanna?”
Turning slightly, Delphi stared hard at the big man. “You have no choice,” he replied, making a gesture at the horses.
Lashed to the bumper of the predark truck with knotted lengths of old rope, the three animals shook violently all over, then slumped to the ground with red blood gushing from their slack mouths. The brothers stared in horror at the chilled horses and slowly turned back to Delphi. The outlander was still smiling, the expression tolerant, almost amused. It sent a shiver down their spines.
“Don’t fret about your beasts. You shall receive exemplary compensation for this assignment,” Delphi continued smoothly, tucking his slim hands up the loose sleeves of his robe. “Transport, reconnaissance, heavy ordnance…”
Having no idea what half of those words meant, John said nothing, his fingers aching to reload the longblaster, but knowing it would be seen as a sign of fear. Forcing his hands to obey, the elder Rogan rested the weapon casually on a shoulder. In any negotiation, especially when the other fellow held all the blasters, a man had to stay cool and calm. If all you had was words, then try not to use any. That always threw off the other fellow and helped even the balance a little.
Chuckling softly, Delphi seemed to be extraordinarily pleased by the lack of action for some reason, as if a pet had done a particularly clever trick and deserved a treat.
“Okay, you got our attention,” John stated, taking a step forward. “What’s the job, Whitey?”
“Something has been lost,” Delphi said, anger crossing his pale face for the first time.
“And ya want us to find it.” Alan snorted in disdain. “Easy enough. What is it that you’re looking for?”
“Salvation,” Delphi growled as a strange humming filled the air and white mists suddenly appeared to engulf the four coldhearts. “Salvation!”
Clawing for their weps, the Rogan brothers felt themselves drop into the ground, as the desert disappeared, replaced by an infinite panorama of burning stars.
TWO HOURS LATER the companions were halfway through their inspection of the redoubt.
Starting at the bottom, the companions did a fast recce on the humming nuclear reactors behind the thick walls of unbreakable glass, although Mildred sometimes called it Plexiglas. Then came the life support rooms, where the hundreds of pumps and filters kept the base clean, warm and uncontaminated from the radblasted hellzone outside the redoubt.
Everything was functioning normally and seemed to be in perfect working order. But all of that changed once the companions reached the storage and barracks areas. On that level, the redoubt was as bare as the last one they had visited. Every room, every closet, was completely empty. Even the beds in the barracks were devoid of mattresses and pillows. There wasn’t a pencil in a desk drawer or a roll of wipe on the toilet.
“If the last redoubt never got its supplies delivered or was stripped clean,” Ryan muttered, walking along a corridor, “then this one was still being built.”
“You can load that into a damn blaster,” J.B. agreed, his fingerless gloves tight on the Uzi machine gun. Some of the sections seemed unformed and still rough along the edges. It was just little things, doors out of plumb, keypads off kilter, details that nobody would ever notice, unless they had been in a hundred other redoubts.
Pausing at the next closed door, the companions took combat positions. With Jak keeping cover, Krysty pushed open an unlocked door. The walls were unpainted, and in the next room the floor was only bare concrete, without even linoleum tiles in place.
“Never seen so much nothing,” Jak drawled angrily, the heavy Colt staying tight in his grip.
“I