James Axler - Black Harvest

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Shockwaves of atomic destruction turned 22nd-century America into a hell zone, but in the ruins the human spirit remains unconquerable. Daily survival depends on raw courage and a deadly aim, and with his warrior band Ryan Cawdor roams the forbidding new frontier known as Deathlands, determined to unlock its secrets….Emerging from a gateway in the Midwest, Ryan senses trouble within the well-fortified ville of a local baron, whose understanding of pre-Dark medicine may be their one chance to save a wounded Jak. But while his white coats can make the drugs that heal, the baron knows the real power and money is in the hard-core Deathlands jolt. And where drugs and riches go, death shadows every step, no matter which side of a firefight you stand on…. In the Deathlands, tomorrow is never just another day.

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“No offense, Katz, but I’d like to be a little more sure than just probably. Do you mind if I work on him a bit first before you give him the drugs?”

“If you think you know what you’re doing, then great. Easier for me.”

“I’ll need a few things.”

“Like I said before, anything you need, I’ll see that you get it…as long as we have it here in the ville, of course.”

Mildred nodded. “I’ll need a good strong needle.”

“We’ve got plenty of those.”

“Some thread or fine string, some boiled water and maybe a few sterile cloths.”

Katz shook his head. “Not a problem.”

“And then when I’m done, you can give him the antibiotics.”

“What about a painkiller?” Katz asked.

Jak looked at Mildred.

Judging by the look in the teenager’s eyes, he could use some.

“Maybe a small dose of morphine for now, just to see how he reacts to it.”

Katz nodded. “Sure, whatever you say.”

“WE HAVE FOUR ROOMS for guests,” Robards said, opening the door to one of them. “I’m sorry we don’t have more, or larger, or better rooms for you, but the baron isn’t in the habit of hosting so many people at one time.”

“This is fine,” Ryan said, wondering what Robards was talking about. The rooms were better than anything they’d seen in months.

“First-class accommodations!” Doc exclaimed. “Five star!”

Robards smiled, and nodded. “Very well, then. The baron will be meeting with you in an hour. Spend the time as you wish.”

The sec chief turned and walked back down the hallway in the direction they’d just come, leaving Ryan, Krysty, Doc and J.B. to examine their new surroundings.

The walls along the hallways outside their rooms also had stress fractures and cracks in them. It was possible that the only parts of the building that were cracked were the inside walls and outside bricks, and that the interior steel superstructure was undamaged, but that was unlikely. While the building would remain standing for as long as they’d be staying there, a single large blast in the right place and the whole thing might come down like a house of cards.

“Think it’s safe?” Ryan asked J.B.

“Been standing for a hundred years, so it should be safe enough for the next few days.” J.B. lifted the brim of his fedora and ran a hand over one of the cracks in the wall. “I wouldn’t want to be a permanent resident, though.”

Ryan nodded. “We’ll leave as soon as we’re resupplied.” Then he continued inspecting their living quarters.

Their rooms were small and dark with sturdy wooden beds topped with mattresses made of dried corn husks and covered with old, but clean, blankets.

“Hey! There’s a bed in here,” Krysty said. “I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve slept on a bed.”

Meanwhile, Ryan and J.B. were busy examining the rooms for booby traps and locks. There was no evidence of either, which meant they couldn’t lock their doors, but they wouldn’t be locked into the rooms by their hosts, either.

“Impressions?” J.B. asked.

“Looks good so far,” Ryan stated.

“Too good, you think?”

“It crossed my mind.”

“Gentlemen, I, too, am astounded by our good fortune, but how many times have we rescued damsels in distress only to have that noble act of extrication be punished by imprisonment, threats of death and bodily harm or simple misfortune? Is it so inconceivable that for once in this forsaken hell of a land there might be someone who is actually grateful for our good deeds and wants to thank us with a reward that is actually in line with the magnitude of our deed.”

J.B. looked strangely at Ryan.

Ryan glanced over at Doc and smiled. “I think he might have a point.”

“Mebbe, but I’m still being cautious. In Doc’s time there might have been people who were friendly like this, but I haven’t seen many in the Deathlands. My guess is that the baron wants something from us, and it’s not the pleasure of our company.”

“So we’ll be on alert and no one goes anywhere alone, or without a blaster.”

J.B. nodded.

“Sage advice, my dear Ryan,” Doc said. “In the meantime, I am going to take full advantage of the amenities. I want to be well rested for the reception.”

“You expecting Eleander to be there, Doc?” Krysty asked.

“You read my mind, Krysty. What an absolutely charming gift you have.”

Ryan stepped into the room he and Krysty would be sharing.

In the second room, Doc lay down on the large bed in the middle of the room, the only bed in the room.

J.B. cleared his throat.

“If there’s something caught in your throat, John Barrymore,” Doc said, “I believe there is water in that jug on the table over there.”

“Mildred will be back soon.”

Doc looked at J.B. a moment, then glanced down at the bed he was lying on. “Oh, right,” he said. “I shall take one of the other rooms.”

J.B. nodded his thanks.

Doc stepped into the third room that had a single large bed—just a tad smaller than J.B. and Mildred’s—and closed the door behind him. Then he lay down on the bed and fell asleep with thoughts of the lovely woman Eleander swirling through his head.

SEC CHIEF ROBARDS caught up with Baron DeMann when the baron returned from his visit with the prisoner.

“How is my old friend Desmond?” Robards asked.

“He’s in terrible shape,” the baron responded with a smile. “I think I’ll let him live a little longer…till he begs me to let him die.”

“It’ll be a lesson for the rest of the men,” the sec chief commented. Then added, after a pause, “We have visitors.”

“Yes, I saw the wag come in. Who are they?”

“Outlanders. They happened upon Eleander and Moira down at the river.”

“The river! What were they doing down there?”

Robards hesitated, knowing that telling the truth would likely warrant punishment from the baron, but also knowing that the truth couldn’t be avoided. “Moira says she asked Eleander to take her swimming. They had planned to be back before anyone realized they were gone.”

The baron abruptly stopped walking and turned to face the sec chief. “How did they get out?”

“I have men checking on that.”

The baron nodded. “Were they really swimming?”

The sec chief nodded. “Moira said it was her idea.”

“Do you believe her?”

The sec chief shrugged. “No, but they were naked, and in the water. They had no provisions with them other than two remade blasters.”

“Perhaps they were using the outing as a test of the walls and of your sec force’s brand of security.”

Robards was silent, knowing there was nothing he could say in his own defense.

“Obviously you failed.”

More silence.

“But even though they got outside the ville undetected, they can’t leave. They need to be close to the ville for the rest of their lives.”

Robards waited for the baron to punish him for being so careless with the ville’s security.

“Eleander must be punished,” he said at last.

“Thank you, Baron,” the sec chief said, acknowledging the order. Then he said, “When the outlanders came upon them, the two women were about to be raped by a gang of muties.”

“Muties? You’re supposed to take care of them as well.”

“We did our usual sweep, Baron. They must have found new places to hide, or these scum were new muties.”

The baron sneered, obviously disappointed with his sec chief’s performance. “So these outlanders saved them?”

“Chilled the muties like they were chilling flies.”

“Then I suppose we owe them a debt of thanks.”

“I’ve conveyed as much to them.”

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