Killing Ground by James Rouch Read Free Book Online Page A

didn’t find it easy to cope with Carrington’s laid-back manner. ‘I said we want to keep moving.’
    ‘Quickest way would be to lay down a firestorm. But that depends on how much ammo we’ve got to waste, and even then there’s always something that gets missed. Or maybe aimed fire. Clarence could take out everything we could see with single shots, but it’d take longer.’
    There was sense in both suggestions, but Revell was forced to take into account another factor. He shook his head.
    ‘It’s tempting, but the way that scout car was operating we’ve got to reckon the Reds are interested in coming this way. We can’t take out what might be the only decent roadblock likely to slow them.’
    Lips pursed in thought, Carrington again examined the road, and the nature of the ground around it. ‘There’s another option. That Merc bounced a good way. I’d say there is a fair chance that we’d be all right as far as that. Just past it there’s about the only section I’ve seen that we’ve got a chance of scrambling up without resorting to rock-climbing techniques.’
    ‘That still leaves us in the middle of a minefield.’
    ‘Maybe not, Major. From the way it’s laid I’d say this load of nastiness was emplaced in a hell of a hurry. If I’m right, then they wouldn’t have had time to do the mountain goat bit and do the higher slopes. Once that climbable section is cleared we can scoot around the rest. That’s the best I can offer.’
    ‘What do you need?’ There was no decision to make. They had no choice.
    That was underlined by a stray shell from the barrage constantly passing high overhead. Tumbling far off course, it plummeted down among the trees of a distant hillside. A mushroom of grey-streaked black smoke soared above the treetops. The reverberation carried clearly and its echo took seconds to die away.
    ‘Just someone to follow and improve the route markings I make, as we haven’t any tape.’
    ‘Take Taylor. And as we haven’t got tape, get a few rolls of bandage off Sampson, to mark the worst places.’
    Glad to be lightened of his pack for a while, Taylor otherwise showed no emotion; not so Sampson. It took an order from Revell to get him to surrender four large rolls of cellophane-wrapped bandage.
    As the medic handed them over he scowled at Taylor. ‘You get yourself blown up, you’re going to be sorry you laid these in the dirt.’
    Scanning every inch of ground before taking a step, the pair started off. Through the crater and its litter, past a scorched door torn from the Estate, they edged forward. A slim silver pen lay among sodden scraps of paper. Carrington ignored it and knew his follower would do likewise.
    Both had seen too many men killed or maimed in the course of mindless or even pointless looting. In the Zone the art of mine warfare and booby-trapping had reached new heights of ingenuity and calculated frightfulness. But never before had either of them seen such lavish use of the weapons. Well-sited and concealed, a dozen assorted mines spread out over a half kilometre of road could stall an armoured column for hours, unless they were determined to press on regardless of the casualties. Here at a glance they could identify three times that number.
    They were nearing the Mercedes. Waves of fierce heat and smoke swept over them with an eddy of wind trapped between the hills. They froze as the acrid cloud bit into their eyes arid blinded them, not moving on until they had blinked them clear of tears.
    Several of the automatic anti-tank launchers stared from among the lower heaps of boulders and from among sparse clumps of firs. Carrington knew that the little logic boxes bolted to each tube would be registering their progress, electronically gauging what they were by shape, size, infra-red signature or any one of a whole host of methods. Right this instant they would be crossing at least one beam, maybe sonic or laser. Or perhaps the careful impact of their steps was being