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about them?” Mildred pointed at the other two.

      “Didn’t seem to have much on them,” Tully said. “And they weren’t too hungry, either, for some reason. Only took a couple of bites. Don’t know why.”

      “Stress, or whatever parasitic creature was in that woman, may explain part of it,” Mildred said. “I wouldn’t mind taking a closer look at her if I got the chance.”

      “Not now,” Ryan said. “We’re all pretty strung out. We also need to get some rest—” and talk about what we should do, he casually signed to the rest “—before figuring out what to do next, okay?”

      They shared the scavvie farmers’ meager rations—a couple of mouthfuls of relatively fresh bread and dried meat—and used a self-heat tab found on the still-unconscious man to make a cup of watery broth for Doc. Within a few minutes, the two, along with Doc, were fast asleep, leaving the rest of the group free to talk. Even so, Ryan moved them all out into the hallway, finding a vantage point where he could keep an eye on the sleeping scavvies and the jumpsuited man, as well.

      The conversation was brief and to the point. “Not a convoy of wags loaded with ammo and trade goods, but it’s a damn sight better than nothing,” J.B. said.

      “Besides, do we have much of a choice?” Krysty asked. “With the mat-trans gone, it could be a couple hundred miles or more to the nearest redoubt. At least if we go with these people, we have a shot at finding wherever the others are coming from, mebbe even locate a redoubt of their own. Solve a couple problems at once.”

      “Exactly,” Ryan replied. “Our low ammo and supplies are major problems, so we might as well stick with these folks and see what we can see. At the very least we’ll get fed, and if things go our way, we could get a hold of a lot more than that.”

      “Maybe when he wakes up in a few hours, we can ask him about where he came from.” Mildred yawned. “Don’t know about you folks, but I’m dead on my feet. I’m going to take advantage of the relative peace and quiet here and sack out.”

      “Works for me,” J.B. said. “Watches?”

      Although tempted to let everyone get some shut-eye, Ryan knew all too well the potential folly of trusting folks they’d just met. “Two-hour spans. I’ll take the first, Jak second, Krysty third, Ricky fourth.” He nodded at the three sleepers in the next room. “They shouldn’t give any trouble, but even so, don’t get too close. Everybody get some rest while you can. Jak, I’ll wake you when your turn comes.”

       Chapter Nine

      Though surrounded by the hot, baking plains and the searing dust storm, for some reason Jak dreamed of his home, deep in the swamps of what had been Louisiana long, long ago.

      It wasn’t a true dream, just a series of disjointed images and sounds...trickling water...a snake slithering through the deep forest...and perhaps a slaughtered animal being dragged toward a ville for butchering.

      It was this last sound that caused the albino’s eyes to pop open and blink to see Ryan standing over him. “Time, huh?”

      The black-haired man nodded. “Heard some scuttling earlier—there may be a rat around here. Keep your eyes open.”

      Jak rolled his eyes. “No shit. Why not teach me suck eggs, too.”

      As the albino got up and stretched, Ryan walked over to Krysty, curled around her protectively and was asleep in seconds.

      Jak watched the sleeping couple for a moment, wistfulness passing over his scarred features. The land they were traveling through reminded him of the area around the farm he’d stayed on for a few months with his wife, Christina, after leaving the companions. Those had been good times—until she and their baby girl had been killed and the homestead contaminated by a bunch of rad-blasted crazies. With the life he’d built in ashes, Jak had rejoined the companions, and been with them ever since.

      But that didn’t mean he didn’t mourn the loss of his wife or daughter, or envy those in the group who had found love. Granted, he was happy for them, but at the same time, he wondered if he’d ever get the chance to know real love again, like what he’d had with Christina.

      A slight rustle in the dark room, near the body of the dead woman, attracted Jak’s attention, and he glanced over at her. Night had fallen outside, rendering the room and outer hallway so dark that they’d left a small flashlight on for visibility. It was dim, but more than enough for Jak to see the entire room as if it were high noon.

      As he looked more closely at the woman’s body, he saw the jacket Mildred had placed over her head and chest had slid off. Something gleamed wetly in the light, and the albino walked over to check it out.

      Her stomach had deflated over the past few hours, and now the corpse looked like any other normal dead woman. Well, not quite. Jak leaned closer to see what looked like some kind of shiny mucus ringing her mouth. “What...” He leaned over to see the trail of thick slime dripping down the side of her dead face and onto the floor...as if something had come out of her mouth and left it behind.

      A throwing blade appeared in Jak’s hand as he looked along the glistening trail to the nearest person—the still-sleeping guy who had taken the scavvies hostage.

      But as Jak peered closer at the man, he realized he wasn’t just sleeping—his entire body was twitching, as if he was being shaken or something. As the albino took a step closer, he realized that the trail ran not only to the man’s body, but whatever had come out of the dead woman had actually slithered onto him. Jak wrinkled his nose at the thought, even as he leaned down for a closer look at the sleeping man.

      That was when his eyes snapped open.

      At the same time, his hand shot up and grabbed Jak around the throat—or tried to. Jak, however, had been fighting since he could walk, and evaded the clumsy grab with ease. His blade flicked out in return, and the man drew back three bleeding fingers.

      The albino took a step back as the man sat up, then rose to his feet. All trace of his earlier hysteria was gone, replaced by an intense stare at the white-haired teenager.

      Jak stared back at him. “Best sit, if know what good for ya.”

      The man cocked his head as he regarded Jak. “Current subject appears to be result of massive mutations in parents, resulting in abnormal skin, hair and eye appearance. Given the typical genetic weaknesses inherent in offspring of mutations, subject is deemed not suitable for implantation. Recommend rejoining the rest of the primary group for debriefing and complete physical examination.” He flexed his fingers, which had already stopped bleeding.

      “What say ’bout me?” Jak asked. The man didn’t answer, but stepped to the side, apparently intending to go around him. The albino moved over to block his path. “Not goin’ anywhere—”

      This time the man moved fast—so fast that even Jak was caught off guard. He slammed an open palm into the smaller man’s chest, knocking him back several steps. Hitting the wall, Jak rebounded and came at him again, cutting him off before he reached the door. “Fucker!”

      “What’s going on, Jak?” Ryan asked.

      “Slime trail from dead woman,” Jak replied, not taking his eyes off his opponent. “Went this guy. Tried grab me. Said nonsense, now tryin’ leave. ’Bout show him that’s bad idea.”

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