[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
swing seat out on the porch, watching the morning shadows of the house shorten
as the sun rose steadily behind her.
Jak had gone out to finish the milking, walking back toward her, slightly
bowlegged from the weight of the two brimming buckets. His stark white hair
blazed like a distress flare, tumbling over his shoulders.
"How do you think he's getting on?" asked the young boy in the kitchen, putting
the big iron spoon to his lips, wincing at its heat. He blew hard to cool it so that he
could taste the sweetened fruit.
"Who?" Krysty asked, as if she didn't know.
"Dad."
"Thought you might've meant Doc."
"Or John," Mildred interrupted. "And stop licking that spoon, Dean."
"Tastes good."
"Not the point. You can spread germs that way."
The boy looked at her, the spoon frozen halfway to his mouth. "What's germs,
Mildred?"
"Germs are& " She laughed. "Never mind."
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%...Deathlands%2024%20-%20Trader%20Redux.html (115 of 292) [12/29/2004 12:18:48 AM]
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20E-books/James%20Axler%20-%20Deathlands%2024%20-%20Trader%20Redux.html
Krysty stood. "And the answer is that we think that they're all all right. All right?"
Dean grinned, lifting his left hand to push back an errant curl of black hair from
over his blue eyes, sending a frisson through Krysty at the strong similarity
between the boy and his father.
Jak had put the buckets of fresh milk on the back porch and he came into the
kitchen, stretching. "Apples smell good," he commented.
"No sign of life?" Krysty asked.
"Nothing."
Mildred was washing her hands in the sink. "No sign of the old goat, either?"
The albino smiled. "Doc's fine. Got Judas to keep eye on him. Think needs time
alone."
"We all do," Mildred agreed, drying her hands on a faded linen cloth. "But I guess
Doc needs it more than most. Loss like he suffered comes hard."
Jak turned to stare at the black woman, his ruby eyes drilling into her face. "I
know that."
"Shit, I'm sorry, Jak. Me and my big mouth. Least Doc's had some time to get over
it. Still only weeks, really, since Christina and baby Jenny were& "
" 'Murdered' is word," he said, turning away, his voice as cold as cemetery stone.
AFTER THE NOON MEAL, Jak went out back to repair a broken hinge on one
of the barn doors. Dean did the washing-up, then drifted after the older boy.
The sky was clear of clouds. As he looked up, Dean spotted the familiar purple-
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%...Deathlands%2024%20-%20Trader%20Redux.html (116 of 292) [12/29/2004 12:18:48 AM]
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20E-books/James%20Axler%20-%20Deathlands%2024%20-%20Trader%20Redux.html
silver streak of yet another piece of predark nuke space junk burning its way back
through the atmosphere.
Though his back was turned, Jak seemed to sense the skyburst and looked up at it,
shading his eyes, saying nothing.
"Want a hand?"
"Sure, Dean. Mebbe even two hands."
The eleven-year-old carefully unholstered his Browning Hi-Power and placed the
heavy 9 mm automatic on a chopping block.
"Blaster's too much blaster for you," Jak said.
"You greasing my wheels? You know I can use it well enough, don't you?"
"Man doesn't need hammer kill gnat."
"But you need a tool big enough to do the job, Jak. Dad says a small blaster can be
worse than no blaster at all. What do you say, huh?"
The teenager shook his head at the younger boy's burst of enthusiasm. "Wouldn't
often argue Ryan. Knows most about most. More any man knew."
Dean nodded. "So you admit a good blaster's important, then, do you?"
"Sure. Times is. Times isn't."
"When isn't it?" Dean asked, rolling up his sleeves and looking at the weather-
scarred wood of the big doors.
"When need quiet."
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%...Deathlands%2024%20-%20Trader%20Redux.html (117 of 292) [12/29/2004 12:18:48 AM]
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20E-books/James%20Axler%20-%20Deathlands%2024%20-%20Trader%20Redux.html
"Quiet?"
"Get wedge under door. Take weight. Hold steady while remove broke hinge."
For a couple of minutes they were both fully occupied in wrestling with the
stubborn door, fighting as it tried to twist and topple over sideways and rip all
three of the rusting iron hinges from the frame.
Dean soon found that his dark-blue work shirt was soaked with sweat. But he was
never one to give up as long as he had breath left in his body. Eventually they had
the cross-framed door propped up in the right position for Jak to carry out the
necessary repair work on it.
"Take five," the teenager said.
Dean slumped down, feeling the muscles like strips of fire across his shoulders
and chest. His fingers were sore, and he had two broken nails and a cluster of
splinters that he would have to ask Mildred to remove for him later.
"Done good," Jak said, making the boy flush with pride. Other than his father, Jak
Lauren was the closest thing to a hero that Dean knew.
"Thanks. You were talking about blasters not being good all the time."
"Sure. No good when need quiet."
"Obvious. That when you use your knives?"
"Yeah."
Despite the heat of the afternoon, Jak was still wearing his usual jacket, the one
made from leather and canvas, with tiny strips of razored steel sewn into it. He sat
and leaned against the wall of the outbuilding, closing his eyes, looking totally
relaxed. Dean stared at him, seeing the three scars that seamed across Jak's face.
An ancient cicatrix sliced jaggedly across the left cheek, tugging the corner of the
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%...Deathlands%2024%20-%20Trader%20Redux.html (118 of 292) [12/29/2004 12:18:48 AM]
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]