Read Online Doomsday Warrior 14 - American Death Orbit by Ryder Stacy - Free Book Online
Authors: Ryder Stacy
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ice wall with a few vehicles placed in between for Rock to give the go ahead.
Bernstein joined them past the barricade, ducked down, and turned the lever on his radio transmitter. There was a muffled roar like a bomb going off beneath a huge blanket and then they were all covered with a quick gust of flakes and cool air.
It took a few seconds for it to clear, but even as they rose up, they could see light coming in dimly from the far side. Cheers rang out. Just the sight of the light, even if they still had to dig their butts off, was enough to cheer every man’s heart.
Bernstein and Rock quickly rushed over and looked up. The explosion had blown right through the fifteen feet of snow that had been lying there. A roughly rectangular-shaped opening a good six by eight feet had been created, but at a steep upward angle.
Rock had them unload one of the plasti-link tread carpets they’d brought along—a thin blanket about four feet wide and less than a quarter-inch thick that could unroll up to fifty feet. Another one of Schecter’s recent innovations—designed for use with the all-terrains. It created a sort of instant gripping surface with its many grooves and treads, over which one could drive.
Rock carried the roll, dragging himself up through the opening with hand and footholds on the sides of the pathway. Reaching the surface, he looked around at the devastation. The avalanche had covered the entire mountain valley all around them. They were lucky, incredibly lucky to be alive. Everything else was just white—not a living thing could be seen. The avalanche had continued on down the slope for another eight hundred feet where it had deposited itself, dashing its ice crystal brains out, filling the rocky valley below.
Rock set the top of the instant-tread with pegs in the ice and then threw the other end back down into the opening. It unraveled as it fell and he heard voices at the bottom yelling to catch it.
Then it was being pulled tight and pegged into place below. Within seconds, a hybrid was scampering up the sheer side of the explosion-created ten-foot-long tunnel. Its wide hooves stumbled along the rough plastic surface as it rushed frantically up the thing. And it worked. Though it took four leg moves for every one that really caught, the animal was so thrilled about getting out of the frozen hellhole that it just kept coming up with a tremendous output of sheer energy.
Rockson had to jump back as the big hairy-maned face came erupting out of the ice hole like a proverbial bat out of hell. Atop him was Chen, one of the best of the ’brid riders. The guy could go bareback when he had to, or ride standing up.
Chen reined the ’brid in as it started tearing ass along the snow-covered slope. He pulled it to a quick stop and turned it sharply, jumping down beside Rockson.
Detroit was next atop his mount. Then the rest. All things considered, it wasn’t all that bad. And within an hour they had everyone and everything topside, except for another busted vehicle, which couldn’t get up enough engine juice to make it up the steep grade. Which meant more abandoned “non-essential” equipment.
They made their way across the newly created undulating surface, using the tread blanket over and over, throwing it out, going across it and then using another one to do it again as they rolled up the first. Rock didn’t want to take any chances slipping, perhaps breaking right through the newly deposited crust of snow. You could fall down twenty, thirty feet into snow hollows left by avalanche residue. He’d seen men do it—and never be seen again. So it took nearly another hour just to go the six hundred feet or so until they were completely free of the avalanche zone and onto rocky, snowless ground.
As soon as they were definitely clear of any more avalanche danger—at least for the moment—Rock stopped them, and had the Freefighters turn back to the mountain that had claimed their comrades’ lives. He led
Bernstein joined them past the barricade, ducked down, and turned the lever on his radio transmitter. There was a muffled roar like a bomb going off beneath a huge blanket and then they were all covered with a quick gust of flakes and cool air.
It took a few seconds for it to clear, but even as they rose up, they could see light coming in dimly from the far side. Cheers rang out. Just the sight of the light, even if they still had to dig their butts off, was enough to cheer every man’s heart.
Bernstein and Rock quickly rushed over and looked up. The explosion had blown right through the fifteen feet of snow that had been lying there. A roughly rectangular-shaped opening a good six by eight feet had been created, but at a steep upward angle.
Rock had them unload one of the plasti-link tread carpets they’d brought along—a thin blanket about four feet wide and less than a quarter-inch thick that could unroll up to fifty feet. Another one of Schecter’s recent innovations—designed for use with the all-terrains. It created a sort of instant gripping surface with its many grooves and treads, over which one could drive.
Rock carried the roll, dragging himself up through the opening with hand and footholds on the sides of the pathway. Reaching the surface, he looked around at the devastation. The avalanche had covered the entire mountain valley all around them. They were lucky, incredibly lucky to be alive. Everything else was just white—not a living thing could be seen. The avalanche had continued on down the slope for another eight hundred feet where it had deposited itself, dashing its ice crystal brains out, filling the rocky valley below.
Rock set the top of the instant-tread with pegs in the ice and then threw the other end back down into the opening. It unraveled as it fell and he heard voices at the bottom yelling to catch it.
Then it was being pulled tight and pegged into place below. Within seconds, a hybrid was scampering up the sheer side of the explosion-created ten-foot-long tunnel. Its wide hooves stumbled along the rough plastic surface as it rushed frantically up the thing. And it worked. Though it took four leg moves for every one that really caught, the animal was so thrilled about getting out of the frozen hellhole that it just kept coming up with a tremendous output of sheer energy.
Rockson had to jump back as the big hairy-maned face came erupting out of the ice hole like a proverbial bat out of hell. Atop him was Chen, one of the best of the ’brid riders. The guy could go bareback when he had to, or ride standing up.
Chen reined the ’brid in as it started tearing ass along the snow-covered slope. He pulled it to a quick stop and turned it sharply, jumping down beside Rockson.
Detroit was next atop his mount. Then the rest. All things considered, it wasn’t all that bad. And within an hour they had everyone and everything topside, except for another busted vehicle, which couldn’t get up enough engine juice to make it up the steep grade. Which meant more abandoned “non-essential” equipment.
They made their way across the newly created undulating surface, using the tread blanket over and over, throwing it out, going across it and then using another one to do it again as they rolled up the first. Rock didn’t want to take any chances slipping, perhaps breaking right through the newly deposited crust of snow. You could fall down twenty, thirty feet into snow hollows left by avalanche residue. He’d seen men do it—and never be seen again. So it took nearly another hour just to go the six hundred feet or so until they were completely free of the avalanche zone and onto rocky, snowless ground.
As soon as they were definitely clear of any more avalanche danger—at least for the moment—Rock stopped them, and had the Freefighters turn back to the mountain that had claimed their comrades’ lives. He led
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