Borderlands: Unconquered by John Shirley Read Free Book Online Page A

coulduse.”
    “Yeah, about that—use doing what, now?”
    “Hunting Eridium crystals—on the hoof.”
    “On the hoof! Oh, you mean crystalisks? I’m up for anything but what I’ve been getting, which is hammered on the noggin. Man, my head’s killing me. First they smash bottles over it, and then she cracks me on the brainpan with her gun.”
    “Yeah, uh, you think that mining camp’s around here?”
    “We’re there! Don’tdrive into that pit!”
    Roland just managed to veer around a mining pit, the outrunner careening along the upper edge to the trestle-like structures of the mining camp.
    “I don’t see anybody around,” Mordecai pointed out. “Could be bandits took the place down. You gotta shield on?”
    “Yeah, but it’s not switched on. You?”
    “Nah, I’m short on gear. That’s why I need work. I gotta replenish—whoa,look out!”
    Brick was suddenly there in front of them, scowling—an enormous, muscle-bound, brick shithouse of a man, standing in the cone of light from an electric lantern hanging from a mining trestle. Roland hit the brakes; the outrunner skidded, but it ran into Brick—that is, into Brick’s outstretched hands. The big berserker skidded back a little, then dug in his heels and stopped the outrunnercold. Then he dusted his hands and shookhis head disapprovingly. “Roland, you’re a, whatta they call it, a reckless driver.”
    Roland looked at the front of his outrunner. “You dent my vehicle up there? You did , didn’t you!”
    “I’ll dent your fool head!” Brick said, his voice a volcanic rumble. “I nearly took you out with a rocket launcher. We’ve been under siege by the second division of thatcrazy goddess woman for two days.”
    “I didn’t see any troops around here.”
    Brick rubbed his massive jaw thoughtfully. “Could be they got the word to go after easier pickings. I must’ve killed thirty of the bastards.”
    Roland shut off the outrunner and got out, Mordecai following. Bloodwing yawned and tucked its beak under a leathery wing for a snooze.
    Brick looked the same as ever, with a facethat seemed carved from stone, all heavy angles, just a crew-cut fuzz of hair on his close-shaven head, powerful bare arms. He wore an armored vest and fingerless gloves decked out with spikes and bolts—the same kind of bolts on his heavy boots. Around his neck was a chain, and the pendant on it was the mummified paw of a dog, Brick’s beloved hound Priscilla, now gone to its maker. He had a lengthof pipe tucked through his belt; it seemed as if he’d been carrying that chunk of pipe around for years. How many heads had beenstove in by it? Slanted across his broad back was a strapped-on rocket launcher. Brick loved explosives. And he could be an explosive himself, in a way—he had a berserker state of mind he went into, seemed to make him something both more and less than human. Roland hadnever faced it and never wanted to.
    Brick looked Mordecai over. “You! I remember you .” He said it as if remembering the time someone slipped skag droppings into his beer.
    Roland smiled. “Mordecai’s a pain in the ass sometimes, but he can shoot, Brick. He can take out the left nut of a Primal at thirty yards.”
    “Why’d anyone want to shoot off a nut when they can blow off a head?” Brick asked.“Makes no sense.”
    As was often the case, Roland wasn’t sure if Brick was kidding. “He’s also a good hunter. That’s something I’m going to need. So Brick, I was thinking that—”
    “You want me to shoot ’em, Brick?” came a familiar female voice behind him.
    Roland turned his head very slowly, not wanting to startle anyone into shooting, and looked over his shoulder. Daphne was standing behind him,with a pistol in each hand, one pointed at the back of Roland’s head, the other at Mordecai’s.
    “I knew she couldn’t stay away from me,” Mordecai said dryly.
    “Why shoot us?” Roland asked.
    “Because,” she said, her arms unwavering as she