Prophecy Read Online Free

“Fuck ’em up some more.”
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    K RYSTY GROPED for her blaster where it had fallen beneath the dash, then pulled herself upright. She hawked out a glob of dust-heavy phlegm and blinked heavily. Her eyes were running with tears, and her sight was blurry, but at least the grit was shifting. A wag stood about fifty yards from them. Four doors were opening, and a man was getting out of each, blaster in hand.
    She could hear Ryan’s raw, painful breath behind her shoulder. She could sense when he was in trouble, when he was struggling. Now was such a time. Even though Krysty’s ribs felt like knives, her head was clear, and she could feel that he was struggling to clear his own.
    She knew without looking in back that the others were beginning to stir. Jak, Mildred, J.B.—they were all moving, but they were slow. As fogged as Ryan.
    Doc was an easier proposition. He was at her feet, coughing up the last of the bile jolted from him by impact. With a final spit, he picked up the LeMat and dusted it off with the tail of his frock coat, rising steadily to her level. Clear eyes on the wag a short distance away, he spoke without looking at her.
    â€œMy dear, when one’s mind is as apt to wander as mine, it is surprising what concussion can do to focus and center oneself.”
    â€œGlad one of us is,” she murmured.
    â€œTwo, I think,” he replied. “We need time. Can we purchase such a commodity?”
    â€œOnly one way to find out,” she said, raising her blaster.
    â€œAdmirable,” Doc whispered, raising his own.
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    â€œT HEY MAY BE POSSUM .” Corden gestured to his own blaster. “Shoot first.”
    â€œTakes the fun out of it,” Demetriou snarled with a vulpine grin.
    â€œAin’t s’posed to be fun. S’posed to be business,” Chambers said from behind.
    â€œMix ’em up,” Thornton said with a snigger.
    â€œEasy now,” Corden muttered as he stepped forward from the cover of the wag door. It was as much to himself as to any of the others. As soon as the coldheart broke cover, a shot from the wag ahead kicked up dust at his feet.
    He fired a volley in reply as he stumbled back to the cover of the wag door. It whined as it hit metal and ricocheted into the blue sky.
    â€œPossum it is,” Chambers said. “Gren?”
    â€œRight, and whoever throws it is an open target, even with covering fire. ’Sides which, we blast that fucker and we lose what we’ve come out for in the first place.”
    â€œSo what do we do, then?” Thornton asked.
    Demetriou smiled slyly.
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    â€œH OW WE DOING ?” Krysty rasped as soon as she had snapped off a round.
    â€œFucked, but not chilled yet,” Jak replied. He had disentangled himself from Mildred and J.B., who were still struggling to clear concussed heads. Like Ryan, whose soft moans bespoke of his attempts to break through the concussive fog, they were temporarily out of action. It was down to the three who had clear enough minds.
    â€œWe can keep them at bay, but that’s about it for now,” Krysty said. “Reckon Ryan can get this wag going again?”
    â€œNot likely,” Jak said shortly.
    â€œSo we can’t move, but they can,” Krysty whispered. “Big advantage.”
    â€œA predictable one,” Doc countered, “as, I think, we are about to see.”
    Sure enough, even as he spoke, the engine of the wag facing them sprang to life.
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    â€œY OU CAN’T BE SERIOUS ,” Chambers breathed.
    â€œWhy not?” Corden countered. “We don’t want them, we just want what they’re carrying.”
    â€œBut what if the wag goes up?”
    â€œWon’t hit near the tanks,” Demetriou told him. “Side-on, near the tail. Spin ’em and scramble ’em. They ain’t got the firepower to stop us. Play with ’em a little.”
    Chambers sat back, sighing softly. Crazies.