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"I mean it, Ryan," she said quietly. "I'm going to live. Not just for me. For"
"For what?" he asked, puzzled.
"For reasons. Real special reasons."
"That doesn't affect me."
She smiled. "That's where you're real wrong, Ryan. Real wrong."
"Still got to stop you."
"Why?"
"Man gives his word to his partner."
"Macho shit."
"Maybe."
"I'm going. Easy or hard, I'm getting out of here."
Ryan half lifted the Ruger, then lowered it again and slid the pistol back
into its holster. Sharona Carson smiled, bolstered her own gun and stepped in
close. She kissed him once, very lightly, on the cheek.
"Thanks, lover. Won't forget it. Won't forget you. Take care now. See you
again one day."
There was a burst of sparks as the end wall fell, bringing down a sizable part
of the roof. The woman swung her leg over the saddle of the Norton and kicked
the motorcycle into life. Other than the blaster, it looked as if she wasn't
taking anything with her.
Ryan stood back and watched the woman leave. The roar of the engine was
engulfed by the noise of fires all around them, and nobody else saw the
two-wheel wag leave the ville.
Ryan knew that he would never see her again. He also knew that he'd never
forget her.
Two hours later, in the flushed light of full dawn, Sharona Carson braked the
Norton and eased it to a stop. She was nearly sixty miles southwest of what
remained of the once-proud ville of Towse. The road had been rough, and she'd
twice been lucky to dodge attacks by bands of marauding Indians. Now she
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Deathlands - Time Nomads hefted the bike up on its rest and stretched.
Behind her, just visible as a gray smudge of smoke, fast disappearing into the
clear morning sky, was
Towse. By now she guessed that the Trader would have pulled out in convoy,
moving north. The unburied corpses of Baron Alias Carson and his sec-forces
would already be attracting the vultures and the ravening packs of coyotes.
Ryan Cawdor was gone from her life, forever.
Before trucking on toward the far west, the woman sat down with her back
against a boulder. The rock, chilled by the night, was just beginning to warm
under the sun's heat. She felt a wave of sudden nausea and clasped both hands
to her stomach.
Sharona had known almost from that first thrusting moment.
The sickness passed and she stood again, giving her past one final look before
climbing once more onto the chromed Norton.
She gave a secret smile and patted her stomach, utterly content in the
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certainty of the new life and who its father was.
Sharona rode away from her past into her uncertain future.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
"WELCOME BACK, LOVER."
A blur blocked out the ceiling light. Someone stood over him, and a hand
stroked his forehead. Red hair.
A voice calling him "lover," that he thought he recognized.
"Sharona?" he tried to say, but his mouth and throat were still numb and
wouldn't respond to his vocal bidding.
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Deathlands - Time Nomads
"Don't try and talk, lover. You've been triple-sick. Relax."
He blinked. The voice was a woman's, and she had red hair. Ryan felt obscurely
proud of himself for working that out.
"Hun? That you?"
"Did he call you 'honey?'" Mildred asked, leaning anxiously over her patient.
"I don't think Ryan ever called me that," Krysty replied. "You don't think
something's happened to his brain, do you?"
The black woman looked away. "I don't know, Krysty. All I know is that Ryan
ate some poisoned food that gave him what I think was botulism. As far as I
could tell, he was off to shake hands with the widow maker. His breathing and
pulse were about as low as they can go without nailing the box down."
Ryan could hear the second voice, but he couldn't see who was speaking. He
tried to move his head, but the effort was too great. The words came filtering [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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