The noise was surprisingly loud. Either whoever approached entertained no qualms about his lack of stealth, or the person must be a first-rate klutz. Or an amateur, which essentially amounted to the same thing.
A figure appeared, only this one wore blue garments, not black.
Lynx tried to distinguish this person’s features, but the compact vegetation prevented him. He deduced the amateur would pass within a yard of his position, and he eased slightly lower and released the AR-15.
Keep coming, dirtbag!
As if eager to oblige, the person advanced swiftly. Once a head of long, black hair was revealed for an instant, and then the weeds concealed the newcomer again.
Lynx beamed in anticipation. His steely sinews coiled, and when the person in blue was three feet away he suddenly rose up and pounced, leaping onto the human and bearing the amateur to the ground. They rolled several times, the person struggling furiously, and they wound up with Lynx astride his captive’s chest, his knees pinning the captive’s arms, his fingers formed into claws. He took one look and his eyes widened in amazement. “You’re a woman!”
She was young and, as humans went, attractive, her own green eyes reflecting her shock. Her mouth hung wide and she scarcely breathed.
Bewildered, Lynx gazed all around them. There wasn’t anyone nearby.
He stared at his prisoner again and realized she did not have a weapon.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?” he asked in a whisper.
Her lips moved but produced no words.
“I won’t hurt you,” Lynx assured her.
The woman abruptly opened her mouth as if to scream.
“No!” Lynx hissed, and clasped his right hand over her lips. “Not a peep out of you, sister. There are guys in black close by who are tryin’ to waste me. If you make a sound, I’ll rip your throat apart.” He paused to give his words time to sink in. “If you understand, nod once.”
She nodded.
“Good. I’m going to lift my hand, but if you try any tricks the same thing applies. Nod if you promise to keep your yap shut.”
Again the woman nodded.
“Okay. Here goes nothing. Just remember I’ve warned you,” Lynx advised her. He slowly removed his palm from her mouth, ready to shut her up if she double-crossed him.
Not a peep came out of her. She regarded him with a mixture of resentment and curiosity.
“What’s your name?” Lynx demanded.
“Eleanore. Eleanore DeCoud.”
“Well, my name is Lynx. Do you mind tellin’ me what you’re doing way out here in the boondocks all by your lonesome?”
Apprehension dominated her visage. “Why should I answer you?”
“Because if you don’t I’ll rip your throat to shreds.”
Eleanore blinked, but her resolve stayed firm. “Is that all you think about? Ripping people apart?”
Lynx studied her for a moment, trying to gauge her character. “Look, lady, all I want to do is get to the bottom of this. Here I am, stuck in the middle of a freakin’ swamp, cut off from my pals, with jokers in black tryin’ to blow me away, and I bump into you. Put yourself in my shoes.
Wouldn’t you want some answers?”
“You’re not wearing shoes,” Eleanore noted.
“What difference does it make?” Lynx snapped. “It was a figure of speech, for cryin’ out loud.”
The woman scrutinized his face, her brow knit in perplexity. “How do I know I can trust you?”
“If I’d wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead,” Lynx pointed out to demonstrate his reliability.
“I don’t even know what you are!” Eleanore exclaimed. “For all I know, you could be one of the Baron’s creatures.”
“Who’s this Baron?”
“You really don’t know?”
Lynx hissed lightly. “Look, bimbo. I don’t have time for this crap. My friends are in trouble and I’ve got to find them, pronto. So you’re comin’ with me.”
“No.”
“It wasn’t a request, lady,” Lynx stated. “You’re comin’ whether you want to or not.” He rose and grasped her right wrist, about to haul her erect.
Eleanore frowned and gazed past him, at the bayou, at the pool to his rear, and her eyes suddenly widened in abject terror. She pointed with her left arm and uttered a strangled shriek.
Suspecting she might be trying to trick him, Lynx twisted his head to look over his right shoulder. The sight he beheld transfixed him with dread.
Rising out of the pool, its scaly body dripping water, its baleful reptilian orbs riveted on them, its huge maw parted to reveal its glistening teeth, was an enormous alligator.
Chapter Five
Blade took several strides to the east, intending to rush to Lynx’s aid, when Ferret abruptly yelled a warning.
“Blade! To the south!”
The Warrior swung around and saw a half-dozen men dressed all in black charging toward the cabin. Each man held a weapon, either a rifle, an assault rifle, or submachine gun, and the expressions on their faces were anything but friendly. Blade whipped the Thompson up, worked the cocking handle, and fired a short burst, gratified at seeing three of the figures drop.
“More to the north, yes!” Gremlin shouted.
Both hybrids cut loose with their AR-15’s.
Gunfire erupted all around them, coming from every direction, the rounds smacking into the ground or thudding into the cabin walls.
Blade backpedaled, glancing eastward again, and discovered over a dozen of the uniformed forms coming through the weeds, far too many to try and take head-on. The three of them were drastically outnumbered and the enemy had the element of surprise. Under such circumstances only one option was viable. Retreat. “Back the way we came!” he commanded, loosing a hail of lead at the onrushing men.
“What about Lynx?” Ferret responded, and shot into the trees to the north.
Blade came to the corner of the structure and ducked behind it, firing all the while. “We’ll be back for him!” he bellowed.
“I’m not leaving him!” Ferret declared, sighting on a man in black and dispatching him with a single shot.
“We have no choice!” Blade cried. “Now move it!”
Both Ferret and Gremlin, displaying obvious reluctance, backed to the relative shelter of the north wall, where they were screened from the figures to the east and south.
“On me!” Blade directed, and ran westward as five or six bullets smacked into the wood near his head. He bent down as he sprinted to minimize his profile, and he was almost to the northwest corner when he saw four more foes emerging from the trees 40 yards distant, two white men and two blacks.
Damn.
The Warrior pressed the stock to his right shoulder and aimed high to compensate for the range, then squeezed the trigger. The model he used had been fitted with a Cults compensator and a superior-quality Lyman rearsight by the Family Gunsmiths, ensuring exceptional accuracy in the hands of a seasoned combat veteran. And when it came to warfare, Blade had more experience than most men alive. He mowed the quartet down just as they were bringing their weapons to bear. “Let’s go,” he prompted, and sped toward the woods.
Ferret and Gremlin stayed hard on the giant’s heels, providing covering fire to their rear, compelling their mysterious assailants to duck or die.
Blade expected to feel a slug bore into his back at any instant, but he reached the sanctuary of the forest in safety, and spun to protect his companions as they darted in beside him.
The gunfire had ceased.
“I don’t like leaving Lynx,” Ferret groused.
“Gremlin neither, no.”
“Couldn’t be helped,” Blade said. He distinguished men in black bearing down on them from both sides, and he turned and moved off.