Part 9 (1/2)
”I'm Rollins, out of Freedom Mall. I head up the sec operation there.”
”Mall?”
”Mall. Freedom is completely enclosed,” he replied. ”Didn't you know that?”
”No. We just thought it was a fancy ville.”
”'Fancy' isn't the right word. Who are you?”
”Ryan Cawdor. Mebbe you can answer a few questions about the men on the ground there.”
Rollins took a look. ”Seems to me like you found Mike and Ike.”
”Wrong. They found us. Tried to get the drop on us for our blasters and jack. Some kind of s.h.i.+tty welcoming committee. You came along just in time. We were debating whether to waste a bullet on them.”
”Rather you not do thatwaste a bullet, I mean. We've had them hiding out, looking for stickies,” Rollins said.
”That's the tale they shared with me. Thought it was bulls.h.i.+t,” Ryan retorted.
”Some of us still think it's bulls.h.i.+t,” J.B. added.
”No, it's true. They were up there looking,” Rollins insisted. ”Not the spot I would have chosen, but I'm not them. We got worried when they hadn't radioed in with a report.”
”Comm units were off when they came falling out of the tree,” Ryan observed.
”Standard operating procedure. A live radio unit could give them away.”
”Is it standard operating procedure to go jumping down on stickies when you're outnumbered four to one?” Krysty demanded.
”Not hardly. They sure as h.e.l.l weren't supposed to try and take them on alone,” the leader replied. ”If you give the two men to me, I'll see to their punishment.”
”What is this? Grade school?” Mildred said with a sneer. ”Take away their blasters and armor and make them stand in a corner in a pointy hat with no chocolate milk at recess?”
Rollins looked at Mildred blankly. ”Don't know rightly where you're coming from, ma'am, but these two are my men. My responsibility. I'll take care of them.”
”We're keeping their ammo,” Ryan said matter-of-factly.
”All right. We'll deduct it from their pay,” the sec man said. ”Being on this road, and the end of daylight upon us, I suppose you were heading for Freedom?”
Ryan nodded. ”The thought had crossed our minds.”
”Then let me offer an escort,” Rollins replied. ”You're close, but the more people on the trail, the safer the trip. These boys have horses somewhere. They can walk in, and you and some of your party can ride, if you know how.”
”Riding's not a problem.”
”Mebbe not. But something is, the way you're looking me over.”
”We're invited into Freedom, just like that.” Ryan's tone was as friendly as he could make it, despite his suspicions.
”Just like that,” the tall sec man replied.
”Your baron won't mind?” Krysty asked.
The big sec man chuckled. ”No baron in Freedom, ma'am. There's Mr. Morgan, but he keeps a low profile. He's a behind-the-scenes type of leader. We're all answerable to him, but you'll never see his face unless things go bad for you once you're inside.”
”Don't guess we'll be meeting him, then,” Ryan said.
”Freedom is nothing but people, stores, food and s.l.u.ts. A fully functioning ville under one roof. You got jack to spend? Creds? Metals and stones?”
”Yeah,” Ryan answered. ”We got jack. Stuff to trade, too.”
Rollins nodded his bald head. ”Then you got an invite. Visitors with jack and useful items are always welcome to Freedom.”
Chapter Ten.
After some quick debate, Ryan and Krysty had taken the reins of the disgraced sec men's horses. Dean rode behind Ryan, and Krysty saddled up with Doc. Jak, Mildred, Alton Adrian and J.B. chose to follow on foot. The two beaten Freedom sec men were allowed to plod along in the lead, where a watchful eye could be kept on them.
Rollins had told the truth. The Freedom Mall was close by. The mall came into view long before they actually reached the single, imposing entrance. A ma.s.sive construction of the most redbrick anyone had ever witnessed in a single location, with inset panels of tan fieldstone, the architectural beast seemed to have thrust itself upward into the hilly surroundings from a sea of black asphalt.
All of Ryan's group had seen malls like this before. In Mildred's case, being a former resident of the late twentieth century, she had actually shopped inside quite a few before being placed in the long sleep of cryonic suspension. A wallet of credit cards with her name embossed on the faces was probably still tucked away inside her purse in a hospital storage locker somewhere.
Ryan's most recent memory of a mall near this size was the leveled remains of the SkyHi Mall back at Bear Creek Ridge in Colorado.
Unlike Freedom, which gave off the air of being as solid as a hunk of s.h.i.+ning, freshly hewn stone, the SkyHi facility had been hit hard by quakes and severe weather, causing entire walls to cave in upon the once s.p.a.cious and well-appointed interior.
That had been many long months ago. The group had been staying in Jak's former homestead in New Mexicountil an interruption saw Dean kidnapped and Ryan forced to go after the boy alone in a desperate attempt to bring him back alive. Ryan had engaged the mat-trans unit to make a long jump high up the North American continent to Canada, where his old foe Major-Commissar Gregori Zimyanin had taken command of a series of slave mines.
The baron had stolen the boy to use as bait to lure Ryan into a final confrontation that only one of them would survive. The final battle had nearly taken them both down, with Zimyanin ultimately falling to his death.
However, Ryan had never seen the body to make sure. Major-Commissar Zimyanin had a particular habit of coming back from the dead. When pressed, the one-eyed leader would admit he still wasn't sure Zimyanin was truly wormfood. Coldhearts like the major were d.a.m.n hard to chill, and even harder to bury.
”Parking lot looks clear. No junk cars, no wreckage or plant growth,” Doc observed with a note of pleasure in his best baritone voice.
”Yeah, this place is positively tidy,” Ryan added dryly.
”We keep it cleared,” Rollins said. ”First order of business each spring is to repair the lots. We towed the wags out years ago. Mall management prefers the areas around the perimeter to be un.o.bstructed.”
”What about that mess?” Dean piped up, pointing at a melted, blackened ma.s.s of metal and plastic as they headed for the front entrance.
”That's new, boy. With all of the recent stickie attacks we've been having, our group has been working overtime keeping the areas clean. Drives the stickies crazy. There's nothing close to burn, so they have to drag in their own s.h.i.+t to set on fire. Pieces of furniture. Small engine motorcycles. Old dried-out lumber. They even trailer in larger objects from time to time to light up Freedom's nightlife.”
”They were probably looking for stuff in the old hospital when they came upon us,” Alton said quietly to J.B and Mildred as they listened to the conversation from the rear.
”Stickies do love their fireworks,” Ryan agreed. ”I've even seen them set each other ablaze when they're really worked up.”
Rollins laughed. ”Right! Right! Believe it or not, one of the crazy b.a.s.t.a.r.ds actually figured out how to use a catapult. A G.o.dd.a.m.n catapult! Don't know where they got the b.a.s.t.a.r.d thing. Used to be an outdoor theater presented in Old Salem where they'd reenact ancient history and stuff. Mebbe it came from there. Anyway, they were flinging flaming s.h.i.+t up on the roof of the mall for a few weeks. Made for some long nights for all of the mall sec men, but at least we could see it coming from a mile away in time enough to dodge.”