James Axler by Deathlands 87 - Alpha Wave Read Free Book Online Page A

and over the wall, the soles of his boots barely glancing off the wooden surface as he sprang up it, just quiet tapping sounds to mark his passing. He dropped to the other side, landing in a crouch, his weight distributed evenly. Then, without a second’s hesitation, he was running again, his flowing mane of hair a snow-white streak cutting through the darkness.
    He focused on the lights approaching across the dusty plain, flaming red and satanic. When he turned his head he could just barely make out the sounds, as well, carrying uncertainly across the flatland with nothing to amplify their echo to his ears. Most of all, however, he felt its approach, heavy on his booted soles, a tremor through the dirt, rumbling across the land.
    “A TRAIN?” J.B. repeated.
    Doc looked around the crowded room, wondering how much of this they wanted to announce to the strangers around them. He stood with J.B. and Ryan near the back of the crowd, close to the lone entry and exit door.
    “That is what the man told me,” he explained, gesturing with his hand that they keep the volume of their conversation low.
    “It’s not the first time we’ve come across one,” Ryan reminded him.
    “Yeah, I know, but you’ve got to build tracks and grease points, there’s a shed-load of maintenance with just the physical upkeep of those tracks, let alone finding or building an engine to run on them.” He whistled softly. “It takes some doing.” The companions had seen trains operating before, but they were rare in the fractured landscape of the .
    The three men stood in silence, each turning over the prospect in his mind. Finally, Doc spoke. “What if they are using the old tracks, prenukecaust. Could that be done?”
    J.B. adjusted the spectacles on his nose, wiping away the sweat that had pooled under the nose clips. “It’s possible, Doc. Usually it was the transport links that were the first to go, targeted by the Reds.”
    “When we got here,” Ryan stated, “you said that this place had avoided much of the bloodshed and bombing.”
    J.B. nodded. “Never been here myself, but I heard that North Dakota got mostly passed over. Too far north, I guess, and nowhere near the big conurbs. Weather got scragged, of course, but that’s all over .
    That’s global.”
    Suddenly the crowd surged, clapping and cheering, and the three men turned to watch the action in the sunken arena. The darker-coated dog had just sunk its huge teeth into the neck of the dog with the white blaze.
    White blaze made a whimpering noise, a nasty choking sound coming from his throat as specks of blood amassed around his opponent’s fangs. He tried to pull away, but the other’s jaws were locked tight, unwilling to release him. The dark furred dog pushed the sharp claws of its left forelimb into the other’s chest, tipping him over, still clinging to his neck with powerful jaws.
    J.B. turned away from the action, leading the way to the door. “Looks like you lost your bet, Ryan,” he said.
    THROUGH THE WINDOW, Mildred watched the red lights getting larger as they closed in on the ville. There were more of them now, and she could see that they made up some kind of pattern across the front of a large, dark shadow, low to the ground, with numerous wispy lights trailing behind. The shadow was moving steadily toward the ville, not especially fast, just steady, relentless.
    A moving speck caught her eye, lightly colored against the night-dark sand. Jak. He was running an intercept path across the plain, torso held low to make him less visible, a smaller target. He ran with considerable speed toward the red lights.
    The flames of hell danced in those lights, Mildred was sure of it.
    THE GROUND ALL around Jak was vibrating now, shuddering as the monstrosity lumbered toward the ville. He narrowed his eyes as he ran toward it, trying to see past the bright glowing spots that covered its leading face.
    A vast shadow plowed relentlessly onward behind those crimson spots,