David L. Robbins - Endworld 09 - Capital Run

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2024-12-23 0 0 406.39KB 209 页 5.9玖币
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Capitol Run
by David Robbins
Chapter One
The two women were fleeing for their lives.
They raced over the crest of a low hill, the statuesque redhead and the
petite brunette, their legs churning, sweat caking their skin, their
breathing labored as their straining lungs gasped for air. The redhead was
in the lead, a few feet in front of her companion. Both women wore similar
black-leather outfits consisting of a tight vest and skimpy shorts,
appropriate attire considering the heat of the June day and their
strenuous exertion.
"We'll never make it!" the brunette cried, wheezing.
The redhead glanced over her right shoulder and scowled. "We'll make
it, damnit! Don't give up on me now!"
"I'm doing the best I can, Lexine," the brunette stated.
Lexine smiled encouragingly. "Hang in there, Mira," she said, her tone
reflecting her concern for her friend. "Another mile and we'll take to the
trees."
The duo jogged onward, sticking to the center of the highway, carefully
avoiding the dozens of potholes and deep ruts pockmarking the ancient
asphalt surface.
Mira stumbled and almost fell.
Lexine slowed and grabbed Mira's right hand, supporting her. "Lean on
me," she offered.
Mira shook her head, her short hair bobbing. "I'd only slow you down."
"Don't worry about it," Lexine said.
"Maybe we should take to the trees now," Mira suggested.
Both sides of the highway were lined with dense vegetation, affording
ample hiding space and shelter from the sweltering temperature.
"We've got to put as much distance between them and us as we can,"
Lexine declared. "This way is faster."
Mira panted as she struggled to stay abreast of Lexine. "I don't like
being out in the open like this!" she remarked. "At least in the woods they
wouldn't find us."
"Don't forget the dogs," Lexine reminded the brunette.
Mira blanched and increased her speed.
Minutes passed in relative quiet, broken by the pounding of their
leather sandals on the roadway and the ragged sound of their breathing.
"You know this is crazy, don't you?" Mira asked.
"Save your energy," Lexine said.
"We'll never make it!" Mira reiterated.
From behind them, in the distance, came a peculiar buzzing.
Mira slowed, cocking her head. "Do you hear it?" she wailed.
Lexine stopped and turned, her shoulder-length hair whipping around
her neck. "I hear them," she confirmed.
"Dear God! What do we do?" Mira almost screamed, panic contorting
her narrow features.
Lexine glared at her friend, her green eyes blazing. "Get a grip on
yourself!" she commanded.
The strange buzzing was becoming louder and louder.
"They're going to catch up!" Mira whined.
Lexine pointed to their left. "Into the trees. Move!"
Mira shuffled toward the woods, her brown eyes wide, staring at the hill
to their rear.
Lexine moved to the left, her right hand gripping the handle of the
15-inch survival knife attached by its brown sheath to her black belt, just
above her right hip. If they were caught, she told herself, she would give a
good accounting for her life! She wouldn't be wasted without a fight! But
maybe they wouldn't be caught. If they could only reach the trees and take
cover, there was a good chance Cardew and the others would pass them
by.
If they could only reach those trees!
Lexine was a yard from the edge of the highway when she heard a sharp
screech followed by the dull thud of a body slamming to the pavement. She
whirled, knowing what she would see.
Mira had tripped in a pothole and fallen onto her stomach, scraping
her knees and elbows in the process.
Lexine hurried to her friend and took hold of her left elbow. "On your
feet!" she snapped. "We've got to reach the woods!"
Mira, moaning, rose to a crouching position. "My right leg feels like it's
broken!" she wailed.
"It's not broken!" Lexine disputed, well aware of Mira's propensity for
exaggeration. "Now move your ass!"
Mira abruptly straightened, forgetting all about her "broken" leg.
"Look!" she screamed. "It's them!"
Lexine spun.
There were four of them poised on the crown of the hill, their cycles
idling, their black-leather jackets and pants lending an ominous aspect to
their appearance.
"Damn!" Lexine fumed. Why the hell had she ever agreed to bring Mira
along? Mira wasn't up to this. She had slowed them down, and now they
were as good as dead.
"Here they come!" Mira shrieked.
The four riders gunned their motorcycles and roared down the hill,
zooming toward the two women.
Lexine drew her knife and stepped in front of Mira, her countenance
grim, her determination revealed in the compressed line of her red lips
and the jutting set of her pointed chin.
The motorcycles closed in. Three of the riders were women, the fourth a
tall man. His dark hair, dyed blue, was shaped in a Mohawk, the exposed
skin on either side of his mane of hair tanned a deep brown by the
scorching sun. A chain belt secured his leather pants. Attached to the belt
above his right hip was a brown holster containing a Browning Hi-Power
9-mm Auto Pistol.
Lexine warily watched the approaching bikers, wishing she had a gun
of her own.
The three women bikers all wore black leather, and only one of them
was armed with a handgun, a Charter Arms Bulldog in a shoulder holster
under her left arm. The other two women were each packing a knife and a
sword. One of them, a blonde, wore her knife on her left hip, while the
other wore the knife on her right. Both women carried their swords in
leather scabbards strapped to their backs.
"What do we do?" Mira wanted to know.
Lexine didn't answer. There was nothing they could do.
The man with the Mohawk braked his big Harley to a stop not ten feet
in front of them. The woman with the Bulldog slid to a halt six feet to their
right, the blonde did likewise to their left, and the final woman circled and
stopped about eight feet behind them.
Lexine frowned. They were surrounded.
All four switched off their bikes at the same moment. The resultant
silence, after the rumbling clamor of the cycles, seemed unnatural.
Lexine detected a slight ringing in her ears.
Mohawk grinned, displaying a gap where two of his upper front teeth
had once been, and leaned back on his Harley. "Well, well, well," he said
sarcastically, winking at the blonde. "What do we have here?"
The blonde snickered. "It's big, bad Lex and her shadow, Mira the
wimp."
"Who are you calling a wimp?" Mira demanded defensively.
The blonde glanced at Mohawk. "Mira is all mine," she told him.
"Whatever you want, Pat," Mohawk said.
Lexine snorted. "How do you stand it, Cardew?" she asked the male
biker.
"Stand what?" Cardew responded.
"That brown stain coating your nose," Lexine stated.
Cardew laughed at her insult. "I always did like your sense of humor,
Lex. I'm going to miss it."
"Just like that, huh?" Lexine said.
"Yep. Just like that. I have my orders," Cardew informed her. "Terza
was real clear on what she wants done with you."
"I'll bet she was," Lexine snapped.
Cardew sighed and shook his head. "You knew this was coming, Lex.
No one defies Terza. You know that."
"Let's get this over with!" Pat interjected. "Let's waste these dumb
bitches and head back."
Lexine faced the blonde. "You talk real brave when the odds are four to
two. But how are you when it's one on one?"
Pat scowled. "You think you can take me?"
Lexine nodded, her green eyes twinkling. "I know I can take you."
"We'll see about that!" Pat slammed her kickstand down and climbed
from her Triumph.
"What are you doing?" Cardew asked her.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" Pat retorted.
"Terza said we're to make it quick," Cardew said.
"I'll make it quick," Pat promised. She smiled and slowly drew her
sword.
"Cut Lex to ribbons!" urged the woman with the Bulldog.
"Don't worry," Pat said. "I will."
Lexine moved to her right, keeping her eyes on that sword. It had a
30-inch double-edged blade and a large hilt, and it had been especially
crafted for Pat by one of the blacksmiths.
Pat, confident in her ability and the superior reach of her weapon,
walked directly toward the redhead. "I'm going to take your head back to
Terza as a gift."
"Come and get it," Lexine said, baiting her adversary.
Pat charged, swinging her sword in a wide arc.
Lexine quickly ducked and dodged to her right, avoiding the gleaming
sword.
Pat swung again, drawing nearer, aiming an overhead swipe at Lexine's
head.
Lexine parried the sword with her survival knife, the blades clanging as
they struck.
The blonde brought her sword around again.
Lexine managed to deflect the blade with her knife as she deftly slide
aside, darting to the left.
"Lexine!" Mira cried in alarm.
Without warning, before Lexine could fathom her intent, Pat turned
and took three steps, her arms upraised, the sword clasped with the blade
upright, only a foot from Mira.
"No!" Lexine shouted.
Mira, too terrified to react, flinched as the sword flashed downward.
Lexine, shocked to her core, saw the sword cleave Mira's face, splitting
it from the forehead to the chin.
Mira stiffened and gurgled as Pat withdrew her blade. A crimson flood
poured from the wound as Mira sagged to the ground.
"No!" Enraged, Lexine leaped at the blonde. She stabbed and slashed in
a frenzied fury, but Pat was able to block or counter every blow. Heedless
of her safety, Lexine pressed her attack. She forced the blonde to retreat
several paces. Eager to bury her knife in Pat's chest, she gambled on a
desperate lunge.
Pat easily sidestepped.
Lexine felt her right foot catch in one of the deep cracks in the road and
she stumbled forward, unable to regain her balance. Her left knee
smashed onto the asphalt. She frantically struggled to rise, to confront her
foe, fearing Pat would plunge the sword into her exposed back.
But nothing happened.
Lexine rose and turned, her knife at the ready.
Pat was only three feet away, but she wasn't looking at Lexine. Neither
were Cardew or the other two women.
What in the world? Astonished, Lexine glanced in the direction they
were staring, to the west. That's when she saw him.
The stranger. Calmly standing in the middle of the road, not ten feet
away, he was a wiry, diminutive man dressed in black. His features were
handsomely Oriental, his eyes and hair dark. A long, black scabbard was
clutched in his left hand.
Lexine had never seen a man like this newcomer. There was an unusual
quality about the man, a visible air of supreme self-confidence combined
with a palpable aura of inner strength. His expression exhibited an
inherent honesty and fearlessness. Lexine experienced a stirring deep
within her, a reaction to the stranger's mere presence. Unlike the servile
men in the Leather Knights, she intuitively sensed that here, at last, was a
real man.
Cardew was the first to recover his voice. "Who the hell are you?" he
demanded, his right hand inching toward his Browning Auto Pistol.
"I am called Rikki," the newcomer replied in a soft, low voice.
"Where did you come from?" Cardew angrily demanded, scanning the
vegetation on both sides of the road.
"My body came from my mother's womb," the stranger said quietly.
"My spirit came from the Eternal Source of all life."
Lexine almost laughed at the ludicrous contours on Cardew's face as his
mouth dropped open in amazement.
Pat walked toward the newcomer, cautiously extending her sword. "Cut
the crap, jerk! We want some answers and we want them now!"
"I have supplied the proper answers," the stranger stated.
"Maybe we should take this bozo back to Terza," Cardew suggested
nervously.
"I am not going anywhere?" the man in black said.
"Wanna bet?" Pat countered.
"I do not gamble," the newcomer told her.
"Is this guy for real?" asked the woman with the Bulldog. Her right
hand was resting on the revolver.
Pat stopped a yard from the stranger. "We want to know where you
came from," she reiterated, "and we want to know right now."
Lexine saw the man in black gaze at Pat. Surprisingly, Pat backed up a
step—surprising because Lexine had never seen Pat back down from
anyone or anything.
The newcomer shifted his attention to Lexine. "I do not understand the
reason for your conflict, but I do not believe four against one are
honorable odds. Would you care for my assistance?"
Pat moved forward again before Lexine could respond. "Who the hell
do you think you are? This is a private matter."
The man in black locked his dark eyes on Pat. "Not any more," he said,
accenting each word.
Something seemed to snap inside of Pat. "Damn you!" she bellowed,
and aimed a swipe at the stranger.
Lexine could scarcely believe what transpired next. In her 23 years she
had participated in dozens of fights and witnessed dozens more, savage
engagements, life-or-death exchanges conducted by men and women
skilled in the many arts of combat. She had seen swordsmen and
swordswomen of consummate proficiency. But not one of them had come
close to matching the lightning speed of the man in black.
The stranger called Rikki twisted slightly, and his right hand was a
streak as he drew his sword. The stroke was impossible to see; one
moment he was drawing his sword, and in the next instant Pat had frozen
in her tracks, her head flopping backward, nearly decapitated, a shred of
skin and her upper spinal column all that remained of her neck.
Cardew and the other two women went for their weapons.
Lexine saw the man in black drop his scabbard, his left hand reaching
behind his back and emerging with an odd metal star clasped in his
fingers. His left arm swept up and out.
The biker on Lexine's right was drawing the Bulldog, the revolver clear
of its shoulder holster and leveling when the metal star arced across the
intervening space and embedded itself in her forehead. The woman with
the Bulldog jerked in her seat, her eyes widening in disbelief. She gasped
and began to slide to the ground.
The third woman biker was drawing her sword when the man in black
took two rapid steps and plunged his blade into her throat.
Lexine abruptly realized they were still in danger and spun to confront
Cardew.
The Harley roared to life even as Lexine turned, and before she could
reach him Cardew gunned his bike and executed a tight U-turn, heading
east, his motorcycle accelerating rapidly. Within seconds, he passed over
the crest of the low hill and vanished.
"Now we know who the real wimp is," Lexine said aloud. She stared
sadly at Mira, then looked at the three other dead women lying sprawled
on the highway.
The man in black wiped his sword clean on Pat's vest, then crossed to
the woman with the Bulldog. He leaned over and extracted his metal star
from her forehead, wiping it on the woman's leather pants.
"What is that thing?" Lexine asked. "I've never seen anything like it."
The stranger slid the star into a brown pouch attached to his belt,
positioned in the small of his back. "It is called a shuriken," he informed
her.
"You're real good with that shuriken," Lexine said, complimenting him.
He retrieved his scabbard and carefully slid the sword inside.
"I've never seen a sword like yours either," Lexine commented.
The man hefted his weapon. "This is my katana. It was constructed
centuries ago by a master metalsmith in Japan."
"Where's Japan?" Lexine inquired.
The man in black studied her.
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