Outside, the 50-caliber machine guns opened up, almost drowning out the shrieks of the decimated scavengers. The chatter of the machine guns was followed by a tremendous explosion. Screams and wails punctuated the din. And then there was a sibilant hissing, and smoke wafted from the nearby structures.
Sundance and Bertha slowly rose, coughing, their nostrils tingling with an acrid odor.
Sundance stepped over the windowsill, the Grizzlies leveled, prepared for more combat.
But there wouldn’t be any.
Bodies seemed to be everywhere. Scorched, blasted, bloody bodies and body parts littered the highway and the sidewalks. Gray smoke hovered overhead. Whimpers and cries rose on the air.
The SEAL was idling in the middle of the street, not ten feet away.
Tendrils of smoke rose from the front fender and the grill.
Sundance saw a scavenger with shredded stumps below the waist flopping on the ground and whining. Near the front end of the SEAL was a blackened, smoking pair of boots, minus their owner. On the sidewalk to the right was a severed right arm, the fingers still twitching. The tableau was grisly, ghastly beyond belief. Sundance felt sick to his stomach and grimaced.
Bertha grinned. “When it comes to wastin’ chumps, Blade is almost as good as White Meat.” She had seen the Seal in action before, and knew firsthand the havoc it could wreak.
Sundance stared at the twitching fingers, simultaneously fascinated and repulsed.
Bertha looked at the Warrior in gray, startled by the loathing reflection in his expression. “Ain’t you ever seen the SEAL kick butt before?” she asked.
Sundance shook his head.
“You must of seen worse than this,” Bertha stated. “How about when the Home was attacked while Blade was off in Denver? I was told the Home was knee-deep in bodies.”
“I wasn’t a Warrior then,” Sundance replied absently. “I took a hit early on in the siege and missed most of the action. They had the mess cleaned up by the time I was released from the infirmary.”
“Well, don’t let it get to you,” Bertha advised. “It was them or us.”
A door slammed, and Blade came around the front of the SEAL, a Commando Arms Carbine in his hands. “Are you two all right?” he inquired. His eyes alighted on Sundance. “Sundance?”
Sundance grimly nodded. “I’m fine.” The right corner of his mouth twisted upward. “If I can’t take this, I don’t deserve to be a Warrior.”
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Blade said. “We don’t know who might come to investigate all the firing.”
Bertha nudged Sundance. “Let’s go! Get your cute rump in the SEAL.”
Sundance glanced at her in disapproval. “I wish you would stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“Stop talking about my… rump,” Sundance said, walking toward the transport.
“I’m just returning the favor,” Bertha said.
“What favor?” Sundance asked as he opened the door.
“You said I had a nice body. Can I help it if I feel the same way about your buns?” Bertha stated.
Blade grinned and ran to the driver’s door. He clambered into the SEAL and deposited his Commando on the console.
Sundance and Bertha took their seats.
“Here we go,” Blade said, gunning the motor, weaving between the corpses as he bore to the east. “If all goes well, we should reach Philadelphia in two days at the most. Possibly sooner. It all depends on what we run into along the way. I’ve managed to keep well north of the Soviet lines, but we could still run into one of their patrols. Even the Technics.”
“Aren’t the Technics those bozos in Chicago?” Bertha queried. “The ones who forced you to drive the SEAL to New York City?”
“They’re the ones,” Blade confirmed. “I imagine the Family hasn’t heard the last of them.”
They drove past the rusted wreckage of a bus.
“You were right about one thing, Blade,” Sundance commented, in the process of reloading the clips in his Grizzlies.
“What was that?” Blade asked.
“You never know when something or someone will pop out at you,” Sundance stated. “You have no warning whatsoever.” He paused. “I think the next time I take a leak, I’ll do it with a gun in one hand.”
Chapter Seven
The SEAL wheeled off the road, its huge tires pulverizing all the weeds, bushes, small trees, and every other minor obstruction in its path. The transport cut across a field and into a dense forest.
Blade, carefully negotiating a path between the larger trees, glanced at Bertha. “We did it!” he said, elated.
“We’ve been lucky,” Bertha declared.
“Either that, or there aren’t as many Russians in this area as we were led to believe,” Sundance chimed in.
The afternoon sun was in the western sky. White clouds floated on the air. A rabbit, startled by the mechanical behemoth plowing through the woods, hopped off in fright.
“If this map is right,” Bertha said, hunched over the map in her lap, “then we’re in what was once called Valley Forge National Historical Park.”
“This was a park?” Blade queried, braking under an immense maple tree.
“That’s what the map says,” Bertha insisted.
Blade turned the engine off. He thought of their good fortune since the firefight in Huntsburg. Two days of travel, two days of sticking to the secondary roads and bypassing every town, no matter how small, and they were now close to their goal, to Philadelphia. Twice they’d spotted helicopters in the distance. In both cases, the copters were flying on the southern horizon. Both times, Blade had pulled the transport into nearby trees until the helicopter disappeared.
“So what’s the plan?” Sundance inquired.
“We hide here until dark, then start walking,” Blade answered.
“We’re leavin’ the SEAL here?” Bertha queried.
“We don’t have any choice,” Blade said. “Even at night, the SEAL would stand out as being completely different from anything the Reds have. We’ll leave it here and commandeer a jeep or truck or a civilian vehicle if necessary.”
“Why didn’t we run into any roadblocks in the last hundred miles or so?” Sundance asked. “We know the Soviets control southern Pennsylvania. Why didn’t we bring that radio along to monitor them?”
“It’s too valuable to the Family to risk our losing it,” Blade said. “As for any roadblocks, they’d be on the highways, and we’ve stuck to the less-traveled roads. Maybe, as you said, there aren’t many troops in this area. Maybe they’re concentrated in Philadelphia. Or maybe they don’t use roadblocks anymore. Remember, it’s been a century since the war. This area has been under their thumb for a hundred years. Resistance probably died out long ago. They haven’t been attacked here in decades. Maybe security is lax because they don’t have any need for it.”
“I hope you’re right, Big Guy,” Bertha said. “It’ll make our job a little easier.”
“How will we find where these Vikings are being held?” Sundance questioned.
“We’ll find a way,” Blade stated.
Bertha snickered. “I love a person with confidence!”
Which explained her affection for Hickok, Blade mentally noted as he turned in his bucket seat. “Sundance, look in the rear section, in the right-hand corner.”
Sundance shifted and began climbing over the top of his seat. “What am I looking for?”