Sooner Dead (Gamma World) - Mel Odom [103]
And she knew how much she would miss Stampede if something happened to him. She closed her hand and hoped that would erase the guilt. It didn’t.
“I know, Red.” Stampede’s voice was soft. “I don’t know what Pardot has in mind for Scatter, but I’m sure it’s not good.” He took a breath and let it out. “So are we going to do this thing?”
Hella rode Daisy toward the intersection while Stampede loped behind her, using the mountain boomer’s massive bulk to break the path for him. Branches lashed Hella’s head and shoulders repeatedly. She lowered her head and peered under the uncertain protection of her arm, though occasional branches made it through her defense. Thankfully she kept everything out of her eyes, but her cheeks stung, and she’d gotten a bloody lip.
Even moving as quickly as they could, they arrived too late. The ambushers rushed their trap, moving down to intercept the expedition ahead of the tall hill where the zeppelin pilots had chosen to approach from. The aircraft moved slowly. With darkness gathering, lights flared to life around the gondolas. The expedition had set up some of the camp, mainly the medical tents and food supplies. Evidently they intended to leave some of their equipment behind and had wanted to make sure everyone was taken care of and fed before the rendezvous.
“The hill.” Stampede raced ahead of Daisy then scrambled up a rocky promontory that overlooked the ambush area and sat adjacent to the zeppelins.
Hella guided Daisy up the incline. The mountain boomer’s long claws dislodged small avalanches of rocks and uprooted young trees and brush. Hella pulled the lizard up short, stopping her twenty meters from the site she knew Stampede would choose as their stand. Daisy snorted in protest, certain she was in a race with Stampede.
“Not now, girl. Down. Lie down.” When the mountain boomer did as she instructed, Hella patted Daisy on the neck then slid her rifle free and threw on an extra ammo rack from their supplies. She leaned into the incline and ran up the hill to join Stampede.
He already lay prone, rifle aimed at the ambush area where muzzle flashes and lasers winked like fireflies. The harsh reports of the weapons were muted and indistinct. He took up trigger slack and fired. “First we help out; then we try to scare the aircraft off. Leave the expedition stranded here. If they get Scatter into the air, we’ll never see him again.”
Hella didn’t respond. She found a good area for her rifle and sighted in. The range finder revealed that the distance to the targets was five hundred eighty-three meters. Her rifle was calibrated out to eight hundred meters. Stampede could shoot and kill at more than twelve hundred meters.
His rifle banged loudly again.
Sighting in, Hella dialed the night scope into play and watched as the world turned into myriad shadings of green. The hardshells stood out against the ragtag armor worn by the ambushers. She sighted on the head and shoulders of one man and squeezed the trigger. Not waiting to see the results of her shot, she moved to the next target.
Before she could squeeze the trigger, the new man suddenly leaped into the air, and flames jetted from his feet. His hair caught on fire, and flames blazed in his hands. He opened his mouth and spit a conflagration over the hardshell in front of him.
Wreathed in flames, the hardshell jerked back and tried to beat the fire from his body. He managed only a few stumbling steps before the heat, burns, or the lack of oxygen claimed him.
“That’s Silence.” Hella struggled to pull the pyrokinetic into her sights, recognizing the profile. “Trazall is behind the ambush.”
“Find the roach if you can.” Stampede slammed a fresh magazine into his weapon. “Kill him when you do.”
Hella squeezed the trigger