Sooner Dead (Gamma World) - Mel Odom [16]
Riley looked somber. “Where are the people that did this?”
“Where are the monsters, you mean. People didn’t do this.” Hella turned her face up into the light rain and let it cleanse her. She shook her head. “They’re holed up somewhere. They’ll eat and drink what they’ve taken then stake out their next target and repeat this.”
“Unless they’re stopped.” Stampede brought over a new body and heaved it onto the ground at Riley’s feet. “Not all of them got away.”
The body on the ground looked humanoid, but genetically its ancestry could be tracked back to an armadillo. The creature had two arms and two legs, but it also had an abbreviated tail and a shell that shielded it from shoulders to mid thigh. Lizardlike hide, crusty and dense, covered the male from head to toe. The hide was dark brown and ochre, and the shell was slightly lighter and had a greenish cast. The broad face was too wide, and the mouth curved cruelly. Ill-fitting leather clothing covered it, pants, a vest, and wide boots.
“What is that?” Riley unconsciously lifted his machine pistol in both hands.
“Dead now.” Stampede kicked the corpse, which rolled loosely. “It’s a Sheldon.”
“I don’t understand the reference.” The face shield hid Riley’s lack of understanding, but Hella heard the confusion in his amplified voice.
“Maybe they were armadillos before the collider broke down and mutated them into something near human.” Stampede grabbed a fistful of the black leather vest and yanked the dead creature over onto its back. “Or maybe they stepped out of a ripple a hundred years ago and set up shop here. They’re strong-arms, sometimes hiring out to protect caravans, and they’re brigands, stealing from anyone weaker than themselves. They’re crafty and canny but not really intelligent. And they’re not loyal to anyone that isn’t one of them.”
Hella knelt and went through the dead thing’s clothing. “They’re known locally as Sheldons.”
“Because of the shell?” Riley leaned in for a closer look.
“I don’t know.” Hella looked up at Stampede. “His clanmates took time to strip him before they left.”
“Figured as much.” Stampede rolled the body over to expose the image on the back of the leather vest.
Whoever had made the marking had spent time with it. The image of a rearing dragon had been burned into the leather; then purple coloring had been rubbed into it. Scarlet trimmed the image, making it stand out in bold relief.
“He was a Purple Dragon.” Stampede growled. “I’ve heard of them.”
“I thought they were south of the Red River.” Hella stood.
“Evidently they aren’t anymore.” Frowning, Stampede grabbed the dead Sheldon and heaved it on top of the pile of dead despite its bulk.
Two more armadillos turned up in the woods outside the three buildings. One of Riley’s men also found three motorcycles in a ditch farther out.
Hella surveyed the mishmash of tracks that tore up the ground. “Can’t make out how many riders there are.”
Stampede nodded. “A lot.” He frowned at the surrounding woods. “We’ll do our best to stay away from them.”
Taking Daisy’s reins, Hella stepped back into the stirrup and remounted. The mountain boomer was twitchy. Being around that much food—that was how she viewed the bodies of the slain—made her harder to control. Despite her above-average lizard intelligence, Hella hadn’t been able to convince Daisy that eating dead people was not all right. The tendency had put off a lot of clients in the past.
“The clients needed the supplies they could have gotten here.” Swiveling in the saddle, Hella looked at the burned-out trade camp. Smoke from the pyre they’d made of the bodies to prevent a spread of sickness rose to stain the sky again.
“We’ll head to Blossom Heat.” Stampede started back toward the bridge. “Riley, tell your