[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
everyone had thought totally dumb. Then he dived for cover, hitting the floor
and crawling toward his bed and weaponry; knowing, as he did, that he was
likely to be too slow.
He glimpsed feet. They were scrabbling and running everywhere. As he rose,
squinting around the bottom of his bed, he took in at a glance what was
happening.
Quint and Rachel still stood near the doorway, firing their blasters from the
hip.
Quint was cackling with maniacal laughter, and Rachel's face was frozen in a
rictus of savage hatred. Bullets skittered off the wall, striking sparks from
the row of lockers.
"Ice 'em!" J. B. Dix shouted from across the room.
"Talk's fuckin' cheap," muttered Ryan, trying to reach the hem of his long
coat; he wanted to drag it from his bed and get at the SIG-Sauer P-226.
Another burst of fire exploded along the floor, only inches from his
outstretched hand, making him retreat. Then he had the coat and then the
pistol, knowing immediately from its weight that it held the full complement
of fifteen 9-mm rounds in the mag.
As he maneuvered into position for a clear shot, he heard a piercing scream
and saw Lori fall in a tangle of flying red clothes, crimson smearing her
face.
"Fireblast!" he cursed, seeing that Quint had moved behind the lockers, only
the heavy muzzle of the submachine gun protruding. Rachel had also taken cover
behind a bed, cackling her delight at having shot her own great-niece.
He could see only a couple of his own group. Finnegan was crawling toward his
bed, after his new model 92 Beretta, hanging in its holster from the bedframe.
And Hunaker.
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Her cropped green stubble of hair gleamed in the overhead lights. Hun was
marvelously athletic, with exceptional strength and agility. Her own Ingram 9
mm was on the floor, resting against the television. Ryan's eye was caught for
a moment by the picture on the screen of a naked couple in bed a thin-faced
man and a beautiful woman with long dark hair.
Making her move, Hun dived into a forward roll, then reached for the blaster.
She was straightening when Rachel saw her. The crone hobbled a step sideways,
screeched a warning to her husband-brother, then opened up with a burst of
continuous fire that ripped into the crouching girl.
Hunaker was hit across the chest, the bullets unzipping her clothes and skin
and flesh. She was thrown sideways onto her back. The gun fell from her
fingers. She tried to get up again but fell forward in a crouch, her head
between her knees, coughing up blood.
"Fuckin' bastard!" screamed Okie, moving toward the dying woman.
"Get back!" ordered Ryan, seeing that Okie would be cold meat for Rachel. But
the harridan was too busy laughing at her success. She shouted to Quint, "Done
the green bitch, Keeper! Done the& "
Ryan held the stamped steel pistol in his right hand, steadying his aim with
his left. Engraved along the top of the barrel in tiny italic script were the
words, Schweizerische Industrie-Gesellschaft
, J.P. Sauer & Sohn, Eckenforde.
He aligned the leaf front sight with the vee of the back, centering it on the
crowing old woman. He squeezed the trigger three times in rapid succession.
Blood appeared among the tatters of leather that hung about Rachel's body. Her
cap with its tawdry glass beads went flying from her matted gray hair,
rattling in a corner of the room. Her arms flung out as though she was trying
to stop a runaway horse, and she took three tottering steps backward. She sat
on a bed behind her, then rolled onto her side and remained still.
Kicking on the floor, hands to her face, Lori was screaming on a single
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01.0.html (103 of 179) [12/24/2004 11:18:20 PM]
d9
monotonous note that grated at the nerves. J.B. and Hennings had both got hold
of their guns and were opening up on Quint, keeping the malevolent old man
cowering behind his makeshift metal barricade. Finnegan had also got hold of
his blaster, and Okie had managed to reach her own bed, taking up the M-16A1
carbine.
There was no sign of Doc at all.
Hunaker was moaning only five paces from where Ryan crouched, his warm pistol
in his hand, awaiting a chance to waste the Keeper. A lake of blood was
spreading slowly from beneath the girl, seeping over the floor.
There was a momentary lull in the fighting. On the television, a kitten [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl fopke.keep.pl
everyone had thought totally dumb. Then he dived for cover, hitting the floor
and crawling toward his bed and weaponry; knowing, as he did, that he was
likely to be too slow.
He glimpsed feet. They were scrabbling and running everywhere. As he rose,
squinting around the bottom of his bed, he took in at a glance what was
happening.
Quint and Rachel still stood near the doorway, firing their blasters from the
hip.
Quint was cackling with maniacal laughter, and Rachel's face was frozen in a
rictus of savage hatred. Bullets skittered off the wall, striking sparks from
the row of lockers.
"Ice 'em!" J. B. Dix shouted from across the room.
"Talk's fuckin' cheap," muttered Ryan, trying to reach the hem of his long
coat; he wanted to drag it from his bed and get at the SIG-Sauer P-226.
Another burst of fire exploded along the floor, only inches from his
outstretched hand, making him retreat. Then he had the coat and then the
pistol, knowing immediately from its weight that it held the full complement
of fifteen 9-mm rounds in the mag.
As he maneuvered into position for a clear shot, he heard a piercing scream
and saw Lori fall in a tangle of flying red clothes, crimson smearing her
face.
"Fireblast!" he cursed, seeing that Quint had moved behind the lockers, only
the heavy muzzle of the submachine gun protruding. Rachel had also taken cover
behind a bed, cackling her delight at having shot her own great-niece.
He could see only a couple of his own group. Finnegan was crawling toward his
bed, after his new model 92 Beretta, hanging in its holster from the bedframe.
And Hunaker.
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%2...olocaust%20-%20Laurence%20James%2
01.0.html (102 of 179) [12/24/2004 11:18:20 PM]
Page 56
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
d9
Her cropped green stubble of hair gleamed in the overhead lights. Hun was
marvelously athletic, with exceptional strength and agility. Her own Ingram 9
mm was on the floor, resting against the television. Ryan's eye was caught for
a moment by the picture on the screen of a naked couple in bed a thin-faced
man and a beautiful woman with long dark hair.
Making her move, Hun dived into a forward roll, then reached for the blaster.
She was straightening when Rachel saw her. The crone hobbled a step sideways,
screeched a warning to her husband-brother, then opened up with a burst of
continuous fire that ripped into the crouching girl.
Hunaker was hit across the chest, the bullets unzipping her clothes and skin
and flesh. She was thrown sideways onto her back. The gun fell from her
fingers. She tried to get up again but fell forward in a crouch, her head
between her knees, coughing up blood.
"Fuckin' bastard!" screamed Okie, moving toward the dying woman.
"Get back!" ordered Ryan, seeing that Okie would be cold meat for Rachel. But
the harridan was too busy laughing at her success. She shouted to Quint, "Done
the green bitch, Keeper! Done the& "
Ryan held the stamped steel pistol in his right hand, steadying his aim with
his left. Engraved along the top of the barrel in tiny italic script were the
words, Schweizerische Industrie-Gesellschaft
, J.P. Sauer & Sohn, Eckenforde.
He aligned the leaf front sight with the vee of the back, centering it on the
crowing old woman. He squeezed the trigger three times in rapid succession.
Blood appeared among the tatters of leather that hung about Rachel's body. Her
cap with its tawdry glass beads went flying from her matted gray hair,
rattling in a corner of the room. Her arms flung out as though she was trying
to stop a runaway horse, and she took three tottering steps backward. She sat
on a bed behind her, then rolled onto her side and remained still.
Kicking on the floor, hands to her face, Lori was screaming on a single
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%2...olocaust%20-%20Laurence%20James%2
01.0.html (103 of 179) [12/24/2004 11:18:20 PM]
d9
monotonous note that grated at the nerves. J.B. and Hennings had both got hold
of their guns and were opening up on Quint, keeping the malevolent old man
cowering behind his makeshift metal barricade. Finnegan had also got hold of
his blaster, and Okie had managed to reach her own bed, taking up the M-16A1
carbine.
There was no sign of Doc at all.
Hunaker was moaning only five paces from where Ryan crouched, his warm pistol
in his hand, awaiting a chance to waste the Keeper. A lake of blood was
spreading slowly from beneath the girl, seeping over the floor.
There was a momentary lull in the fighting. On the television, a kitten [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]