James Axler - Deathlands 065 - Hellbenders

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Axler,_James_-_Deathlands_65_-_Hellbenders

J.B. was far from happy

He could see that Correll's strategy was already falling to pieces, and he and

Mildred were a long way from where they wanted to be—at the side of Ryan and

the rest of their companions. The only way to get out of this situation was to be

back-to-back with people they could trust. At least that way they all had a chance.

The Armorer straightened his wag and headed toward the gap between the rocks

that formed the entrance to the arena. Ahead of him he could see the

Summerfield convoy from the rear, but the front was lost in the swirl of the dust

storm. Sec men were racing back to their wags, and those who were already

mounted turned, blasters at the ready. He could also see sec men standing guard

on the top of the supply wags, with homemade flamethrowers. They bore little

resemblance to anything the Armorer had ever seen, but he recognized the

danger with an unerring instinct.

"Get into position and hold on," he yelled. "This is going to be a little tricky."

Hellbenders

#65 in the Deathlands series

James Axler

A GOLD EAGLE BOOK FROM WORLDWIDE

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Axler,_James_-_Deathlands_65_-_Hellbenders

TORONTO • NEW YORK • LONDON AMSTERDAM • PARIS • SYDNEY •

HAMBURG • STOCKHOLM • ATHENS • TOKYO • MILAN • MADRID •

WARSAW • BUDAPEST • AUCKLAND

If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is

stolen property. It was reported as "unsold and destroyed" to the publisher, and

neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this "stripped

book."

If you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison

us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?

—William Shakespeare The Merchant of Venice

First edition March 2004

ISBN 0-373-62575-

of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or

other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography,

photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is

forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Worldwide Library,

225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the

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Axler,_James_-_Deathlands_65_-_Hellbenders

author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or

names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or

unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are

registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade

Marks Office and in other countries.

Printed in U.S.A.

THE DEATHLANDS SAGA

This world is their legacy, a world born in the violent nuclear spasm of 2001 that

was the bitter outcome of a struggle for global dominance.

There is no real escape from this shockscape where life always hangs in the

balance, vulnerable to newly demonic nature, barbarism, lawlessness.

But they are the warrior survivalists, and they endure—in the way of the lion, the

hawk and the tiger, true to nature's heart despite its ruination.

Ryan Cawdor: The privileged son of an East Coast baron. Acquainted with

betrayal from a tender age, he is a master of the hard realities.

Krysty Wroth: Harmony ville's own Titian-haired beauty, a woman with the

strength of tempered steel. Her premonitions and Gaia powers have been

fostered by her Mother Sonja.

J. B. Dix, the Armorer: Weapons master and Ryan's close ally, he, too, honed

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his skills traversing the Deathlands with the legendary Trader.

Doctor Theophilus Tanner: Torn from his family and a gentler life in 1896,

Doc has been thrown into a future he couldn't have imagined.

Dr. Mildred Wyeth: Her father was killed by the Ku Klux Klan, but her fate is

not much lighter. Restored from predark cryogenic suspension, she brings

twentieth-century healing skills to a nightmare.

Jak Lauren: A true child of the wastelands, reared on adversity, loss and

danger, the albino teenager is a fierce fighter and loyal friend.

Dean Cawdor: Ryan's young son by Sharona accepts the only world he knows,

and yet he is the seedling bearing the promise of tomorrow.

In a world where all was lost, they are humanity's last hope…

Chapter One

The swallowing mire of darkness began to clear. To Dean, it seemed as though

the swamp mist on the blackest of moon-clouded nights had begun to lift. The

darkness that was all around him began slowly to loosen. He felt life return to his

leaden limbs, and most importantly, it seemed to him that his brain began to

work properly, bringing him back from the strange worlds of unconsciousness

and the deep, dark fears that surfaced during every mat-trans jump.

Feeling a well of nausea in the pit of his stomach, Dean rose slowly on one

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Axler,_James_-_Deathlands_65_-_Hellbenders

elbow, moving with care and allowing his tortured frame to adjust to the new

equilibrium.

Dean Cawdor was the youngest of the band of seven people gathered in the mat-

trans chamber. Sitting upright and risking opening an eye when he felt the

spinning in his head begin to recede, the youth looked at his companions. His

father, Ryan, was already on his feet, although still looking a little groggy. Dean

resembled a younger, leaner version of the man, with only time and harsh

experience telling in the few inches of height between them and the older man's

more strongly developed musculature.

Dean risked rising to his feet on muscles still a little shaky. He was trembling

slightly as he looked around the chamber. They'd obviously all been unconscious

for some time, as the disks that usually glowed before and after every jump were

flat and colorless. He reached down and grasped his Browning Hi-Power, the

blaster that felt so comfortable in his grip it was like an extension of his hand.

"You okay, son?" Ryan asked, the ghost of a smile crossing his face. The

curling, dark hair and serious countenance were mirrored in Dean, but the jagged

scar that ran the length of the left side of Ryan's face, broken by the eye patch

that covered the empty eye socket was courtesy of his brother Harvey, the now

deceased former baron of Front Royal.

Dean nodded, then grimaced as the nausea returned at his sudden head

movement.

"Take some time—who knows what's out there?" Ryan said, casting a glance at

the door of the chamber, which would open out onto…who knew what? Some

redoubts they had landed in had been occupied, some deserted, some providing

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Axler,_James_-_Deathlands_65_-_HellbendersJ.B.wasfarfromhappyHecouldseethatCorrell'sstrategywasalreadyfallingtopieces,and\heandMildredwerealongwayfromwheretheywantedtobe—atthesideofR\yanandtherestoftheircompanions.Theonlywaytogetoutofthissituation\wastobeback-to-backwithpeopletheycouldtrust.Atleastt...

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