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prefer you think that course of action over." An ugly grin of superiority curled Hub's lips. "Two of us. You're outgunned." "There may be two of you, but I'm betting I'm not outgunned." Hub snarled wordlessly and took a menacing step forward, poking the barrel of his blaster hard into the pit of Kane's stomach. "You want to bet your life on that, asshole?" Kane back fisted the barrel away with his right hand, and sprang forward to head butt the man in the face. Zit's voice rose in a frightened shout as Hub staggered against the wall. A length of dark pipe clattered to the floor as he lifted both hands to staunch the flow of blood from his nose and split lips. Pivoting on his right foot, Kane kicked his left leg up so the toe of his boot caught the underside of the long barrel in Zit's hand, sending the weapon spinning upward. Page 48 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html Kane flexed his wrist tendons and the electric motor droned, but the Sin Eater didn't pop into his hand. The big man shambled erect. Baring blood-filmed teeth, Hub roared in rage and started toward him, reaching for his throat. As Kane stepped back, the holster's actuator's finally slapped his Sin Eater into his hand. Rather than shooting Hub, he chopped at his left hand with the flat of the frame. He heard the crunching of knuckles, but the man was already in so much pain from a broken nose and split lips that the blow was hardly more than a twinge. He pounded a right into Kane's body, just below the heart. Kane swallowed a grunt of pain and staggered against the edge of the propped-open door. Hub rushed for him, and Kane rolled aside, grabbing a handful of coveralls and using his momentum to pitch him out the door. The man's hands flew instinctively out to catch himself, but Kane kicked his feet out from under him. He fell facefirst to the ground and before he could rise, Kane crashed the barrel of his Sin Eater against the back of skull with an ugly crack of bone colliding with metal. Hub's body seemed to turn to rubber and collapsed bonelessly on the wet ground. Kane whirled as Zit charged out of the building. Unlike Hub, she wasn't running a bluff with a piece of pipe. Her blaster was real, even if it was home forged. She shrieked, "You chilled my sweet Hub!" He wanted to point out to her that it would require a hell of a lot more than a blow on the head to chill her sweet Hub, but she didn't give him the opportunity. The explosion that erupted from the muzzle of the gun wasn't quite as loud as a bomb going off, but it didn't miss by much. Kane felt his eardrums compressed by the concussion and his body shook to the jolt. A tongue of flame and a blinding ball of smoke gouted from the bore. DOMI AUTOMATICALLY DROPPED into a crouch atop the slab of concrete as the cries of fear grew louder. She ignored the bell, focusing on the closer sounds. Her Combat Master came out of its holster in a smooth practiced motion and she held it in a double-handed grip, her left hand cupping her right. Several voices shouted at once, men, women, children or a combination. It was hard to say. Within seconds a group of figures came into view from around a heap of vine-covered bricks. Panting and stumbling along was a quartet of outlanders.-She was able to see one woman, a girl really, among them. She kept looking fearfully over her shoulder, and the weak sunlight reflected off something on the side of her neck. The distance was too great for Domi to ascertain what it was. It was instantly obvious that the ragged people were terrified and in the last stages of exhaustion. They were followed around the pile of bricks by two more figures. Domi's heart skipped a beat and then began to thud frantically. At first glance, it appeared the outlanders were prodded along by thin black shadows with no faces. She realized a moment later the pursuers were attired in one-piece uniforms of such a deep black it almost looked as if they wore shadows. But it was their faces, or rather their lack of faces, that caught her eye. In their hands were rods with little silver knobs that flashed at the tips. The woman tripped over a piece of stone and dropped to her hands and knees, her head bowed and her shoulders quaking as if she were trying to be sick. One of the shadow men poked with her with the silver-tipped baton. The woman didn't move. She didn't make any attempt to struggle as she was heaved upright, standing between the two faceless men who each held her by an arm. Moving on impulse, almost without thought, Domi leveled her handblaster and swiftly brought the shadow man on the woman's left into target acquisition. Fifty yards was long range for a hand-blaster, but she had made more difficult shots. When the ebony figure was framed within the Combat Master's sights, she adjusted for elevation and windage, then she squeezed the trigger three times. The big automatic blaster bucked in her hands, sending out booming shock waves Page 49 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html of ear-shattering sound. The first .45-caliber bullet hit the man directly in the center of his featureless face. He catapulted backward, releasing the woman, who dived to safety. The second round struck the other shadow man in the torso, tearing through the black skin amid a spouting of blood. He went over backward. The third shot ricocheted off the pile of bricks with a keening whine and a spray of red dust. The outlanders scattered, running in all directions. Only the girl remained, gazing in Domi's direction, her eyes big and shocked in her hollow-cheeked face. Domi felt a pang of pity for her, knowing she'd spend her young life in a struggle just to exist or, if she went to one of the villes, in sexual servitude to a Pit boss. Once she was worn out or lost her appeal, she'd be killed or thrown out with the rest of the refuse. It didn't happen to Domi, but only because she'd struck first. The girl climbed to her feet, gathering a ratty blanket around her shoulders. Domi watched her scuttle away into the ruins. She had no inclination to run after the girl to try to convince her she was a friend. Nor was she inclined to climb down from her perch and examine the faceless corpses. Although she knew they were men in suits, they awakened in her a superstitious dread, rekindling old folk tales told around campfires about soul-stealing demons, gibbering ghosts and night-gaunts. As she recalled, those were the worst. They never spoke or laughed and never smiled, because they had no faces at all to smile with. "Stupe," Domi muttered, embarrassed by her regression to childish fears. She returned her attention and energy to climbing the pile of rubble. She dug her lingers into narrow niches and pulled herself nimbly upward, bracing herself with footholds. She climbed recklessly, clawing and kicking her way up. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |
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