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[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] great sigh, opening her eyes and smiling at him. "I shall enjoy dining with that fast boy, outlander," she said. Ryan simply nodded, moving away to congratulate Michael on his victory. Mandeville was on his feet, struggling to readjust the beaming, good-natured mask. "A surprise, there, friends. But more for Jericho, I believe. Now, let us go to the butts for the shooting." Chapter Twenty-Five file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Ja...-%20Deathlands%2020%20-%20Cold% 20Asylum.html (137 of 213) [12/29/2004 6:16:57 PM] Deathlands - Cold Asylum The shooting range was actually outside the fortified walls of Sun Crest. It lay a quarter mile to the east, across the wooden bridge over the narrow river and through a copse of elegant silver birches to an open area that had been painstakingly cleared from raw forest. The rifle butts ran for a full half mile, ending in a high bank of sandy earth. A number of round, colorful straw-padded archery targets stood ready. "I can't hardly believe that this is Kansas, bloody Kansas," Doc muttered. "Granary of the world. Wheat from sunrise to sunset." "More like northern Montana or Washington State," Mildred agreed. "Endless forests." Guiteau had deliberately fallen in to walk with Ryan. It was noticeable that the sec presence was much greater once they were outside the ville, all carrying their standard Armalites. All of them were alert. "Never seen the like of that breed kid of yours," the sec sergeant commented. "Not a breed. Think he had a Crow grandfather. Wouldn't think about calling him a breed, Guiteau." "Where'd he learn to fight like that?" "Don't know." Ryan wasn't about to get himself tangled up in the complex realities of time trawling. "Jericho never had a chance. Like a spitball up against a gren launcher." "Man shouldn't have tried to blindside the boy." Guiteau laughed. "You can sure as shit say that again, Cawdor." They were near a row of seats set out along a raised dais at one end of the butts. "Archery first?" "Yeah. You outlanders don't have anyone who can put six from six in the gold, have you?" Both J.B. and Ryan were a lot better than adequate with either longbow or crossbow, but it seemed a good idea not to lay every card down on the table. "Guiteau!" "Coming, Baron." He paused a moment. "Letting that ball-of-fire kid chill Jericho might turn out one of the worst moves you ever made in your life, Cawdor." Krysty caught the last words, registering the venom that lay beneath them. Page 90 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html "What was that about, lover?" "Guiteau shooting his mouth about how Michael could've made a bad move for us." file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Ja...-%20Deathlands%2020%20-%20Cold% 20Asylum.html (138 of 213) [12/29/2004 6:16:57 PM] Deathlands - Cold Asylum "He didn't have to chill the jailer." Ryan sniffed. "Mebbe. I'd have done it in his place." THE ONLY SURPRISE in the archery came when one of the young bedroom servants beat a bearded sec man in the shoot-off, scoring two golds, three inners and an outer with her last six shafts. The man stalked angrily off, the mocking shouts of his fellows and the watching crowd ringing in his ears. Twice Ryan had glanced along the row of seats to where Marie Mandeville had insisted on Michael Brother being next to her. For the first time since they'd encountered the woman, she was showing animation, talking in a low urgent voice to the teenager, constantly laying her hand on his arm. Or on his thigh. Baron Mandeville ignored his daughter, but Harry Guiteau was also keeping an eye on what was happening. J.B. TOOK THE STEYR RIFLE from Ryan, who hung on to the Uzi while he competed in the long-gun target shooting. "Like taking candy from a baby," he said, his eyes glinting behind his glasses. When it came to anything linked to weapons, the Armorer wasn't often wrong. It was like taking candy from a baby. The three sec men who reached the last round to go against J.B. were the best of the mediocre bunch. All of them handled the targets at fifty and one hundred paces without any trouble, slamming bullet after bullet from their immaculate Armalites into or very near to the bull. "Want to come in, outlander?" Mandeville shouted, much of his good humor restored. "I'll wait until it gets harder, thanks, Baron. I could spit at the target at this range." The Father Christmas smile disappeared like September frost off a meadow. file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Ja...-%20Deathlands%2020%20-%20Cold% 20Asylum.html (139 of 213) [12/29/2004 6:16:57 PM] Deathlands - Cold Asylum Once the range went up to two hundred and fifty yards, the cracks started to appear. At the announcement of the progression to five hundred paces, J.B. stood and slowly made his way to lie down alongside the maroon-uniformed sec men, wrapping the sling on the rifle around his forearm for extra stability. Guiteau nudged Ryan. "You got some of the best blasters I ever saw, Cawdor. That a legacy from your days with the Trader?" "Some are, some aren't. It's been awhile since Trader took his last walk, you know, Guiteau." "Sure. What was it the Indians called him? Oh, yeah. 'The Man Who Walks without Friends.' You and Dix think of him like that, Cawdor?" "That was a name given Trader by those who weren't his friends. He had some good friends." He paused. "And he didn't have many enemies." "Not many enemies?" A disbelieving grin split the grizzled sec sergeant's face. Page 91 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html "Alive." J.B. never allowed the shooting to be anything approaching a contest. The Steyr SSG-70, firing the uncommon 7.62 mm full-metal-jacket round, had the powerful Starlite night scope and a brutally efficient laser image enhancer. Working the bolt action with fluid ease, the skinny Armorer pumped all ten rounds into a group less than a hand's span across, each hit being greeted by a wave of the green flag by the servants acting as markers at the far end of the butts. None of the sec men got more than half their shots on the target. They all stood, but J.B. lay still, looking up at them. "What's happening?" "You won, outlander," one of them grunted ungraciously. "Beat us out of sight." "We not going on to the half mile?" "No fucking point, is there?" Mandeville gave the signal to Guiteau, who clapped his hands together. "Let's hear it for John Dix, winner of the long-gun shooting." The applause was scattered and hesitant. None of the workers from the ville wanted to seem too enthusiastic in supporting the victory of any file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Ja...-%20Deathlands%2020%20-%20Cold% 20Asylum.html (140 of 213) [12/29/2004 6:16:57 PM] [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |