Read Online Borderlands: The Fallen by John Shirley - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: John Shirley
Tags: Fiction
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like places back on the homeworld, where sometimes the desert reached the sea.
She hesitated. Right in her way was a big man sprawled on his back, sleeping in his helmet and goggles, mouth wide open. The stench of him almost made her gag. She held her breath and stepped over him with one foot, very carefully, wincing when her feet made a crunching sound in the sand. She was straddling him now.
She stepped over him with her other foot, teetering. Then she caught her balance, biting her lip with the tension. The man she’d almost fallen on stopped snoring and muttered to himself in his sleep. “Whuh bassud took muh … took muh fuggin’ …”
Marla waited. After an interminable time he resumed snoring.
She stepped over another man, who was curled up like a fetus—and then she was in the inky shadow beyond the firelight.
She headed toward the beach, thinking to follow it to some habitation along the sea.
In another three minutes she stumbled over a rock, fell headfirst … and slid down a sandy slope on her stomach. She came to a stop on the edge of a beach. She could see the moonlit wavecrests silver against blue-black, glimmering beyond the dark swath of sand.
She got to her feet and looked around—which way now? The bandits were roughly behind and to her right, so she went left.
She got a hundred meters down the beach—then stopped when a light struck her full in the face, dazzling her eyes. She stood there, frozen, terrified, not sure which way to run.
The light beamed from a flashlight held in a man’s hand. The light angled down, so she was able to make him out.
The man holding the flashlight was brawny, with long black hair flowing over his broad shoulders and a lantern jaw. He wore loose pantaloons, and an open vest over his bare chest. He was just getting out of a longboat pulled upin the surf. Beside him stood two other dark, rugged men. All three of them were heavily armed.
One of the men, bearded and scarred, pointed at her and said, “Vance—look! It’s the woman! It must be! Grunj ain’t gonna be happy! The idjits have lost her!”
“So they have,” said Vance. “But
we’ve
found her!”
C al Finn had a choice. Hide in one of the dark crevices that might end up being dens for skags—or move toward that twinkling red light he saw in the distance.
After what Mom had read in the uni about the bandits, he figured the light might well belong to one of those bloodthirsty gangs.
Some of the bandits are cannibals,
she’d said.
But suppose the light was someone looking for him—maybe his mom, lighting a fire to attract his attention?
Even if it was a bandit—it was late, and dark, and he was hungry. If they were asleep, just one or two bandits, they might not wake were he to slip into their camp and steal some food canisters, say, even a weapon …
The gnawing feeling in his belly made the decision. He had to take a look.
Cal crept from one pool of darkness to the next, guidedby moonlight. He froze in place more than once when he heard the rustling of something moving out on the plain, expecting that unidentified
something
to leap out at him, tear his limbs from his body. He kept envisioning the skag’s three-jawed toothy maw trumpeting in rage.
But half an hour later, he’d made his way to the base of a hill of boulders, about thirty meters high. Firelight flickered red and yellow near the top. He couldn’t see anyone up there.
A narrow path wound between boulders, and up the steep, sandy incline. It was mostly in shadow, picked out by moonlight here and there. Anything could be waiting on that path.
Cal plucked up his courage and pressed on, climbing the hill, hands stretched out in front of him to feel his way as quietly as he could.
Soon he could hear a campfire crackling; could see sparks wending their way up to extinguish in the night sky. He got down on his hands and knees and crept close to a boulder on all fours, feeling strangely like one of the desert’s wild
She hesitated. Right in her way was a big man sprawled on his back, sleeping in his helmet and goggles, mouth wide open. The stench of him almost made her gag. She held her breath and stepped over him with one foot, very carefully, wincing when her feet made a crunching sound in the sand. She was straddling him now.
She stepped over him with her other foot, teetering. Then she caught her balance, biting her lip with the tension. The man she’d almost fallen on stopped snoring and muttered to himself in his sleep. “Whuh bassud took muh … took muh fuggin’ …”
Marla waited. After an interminable time he resumed snoring.
She stepped over another man, who was curled up like a fetus—and then she was in the inky shadow beyond the firelight.
She headed toward the beach, thinking to follow it to some habitation along the sea.
In another three minutes she stumbled over a rock, fell headfirst … and slid down a sandy slope on her stomach. She came to a stop on the edge of a beach. She could see the moonlit wavecrests silver against blue-black, glimmering beyond the dark swath of sand.
She got to her feet and looked around—which way now? The bandits were roughly behind and to her right, so she went left.
She got a hundred meters down the beach—then stopped when a light struck her full in the face, dazzling her eyes. She stood there, frozen, terrified, not sure which way to run.
The light beamed from a flashlight held in a man’s hand. The light angled down, so she was able to make him out.
The man holding the flashlight was brawny, with long black hair flowing over his broad shoulders and a lantern jaw. He wore loose pantaloons, and an open vest over his bare chest. He was just getting out of a longboat pulled upin the surf. Beside him stood two other dark, rugged men. All three of them were heavily armed.
One of the men, bearded and scarred, pointed at her and said, “Vance—look! It’s the woman! It must be! Grunj ain’t gonna be happy! The idjits have lost her!”
“So they have,” said Vance. “But
we’ve
found her!”
C al Finn had a choice. Hide in one of the dark crevices that might end up being dens for skags—or move toward that twinkling red light he saw in the distance.
After what Mom had read in the uni about the bandits, he figured the light might well belong to one of those bloodthirsty gangs.
Some of the bandits are cannibals,
she’d said.
But suppose the light was someone looking for him—maybe his mom, lighting a fire to attract his attention?
Even if it was a bandit—it was late, and dark, and he was hungry. If they were asleep, just one or two bandits, they might not wake were he to slip into their camp and steal some food canisters, say, even a weapon …
The gnawing feeling in his belly made the decision. He had to take a look.
Cal crept from one pool of darkness to the next, guidedby moonlight. He froze in place more than once when he heard the rustling of something moving out on the plain, expecting that unidentified
something
to leap out at him, tear his limbs from his body. He kept envisioning the skag’s three-jawed toothy maw trumpeting in rage.
But half an hour later, he’d made his way to the base of a hill of boulders, about thirty meters high. Firelight flickered red and yellow near the top. He couldn’t see anyone up there.
A narrow path wound between boulders, and up the steep, sandy incline. It was mostly in shadow, picked out by moonlight here and there. Anything could be waiting on that path.
Cal plucked up his courage and pressed on, climbing the hill, hands stretched out in front of him to feel his way as quietly as he could.
Soon he could hear a campfire crackling; could see sparks wending their way up to extinguish in the night sky. He got down on his hands and knees and crept close to a boulder on all fours, feeling strangely like one of the desert’s wild
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