Read Online THE KILLER ANGEL : Book Three "Journey" (THE KILLER ANGEL TRILOGY 3) by Myles Stafford - Free Book Online
Authors: Myles Stafford
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“Finally!” One said excitedly, “Nicki Redstone! We’ve been trying to find you for two weeks. Damn! You are fast! Sorry about the cursing, ma’am.”
I looked the pair up and down as they stood in front of me, dripping in sweat and waiting for my next move. Midwest accents, probably Nebraska country. Tall boys, blonde haired and blue-eyed; they were clean-cut and well groomed, as were the dogs. Their manners were respectful, and I detected none of the odd ornaments,clothing or behaviors that often presage unpleasant action or intent.
They both wore high school letterman jackets with the traditional white leather sleeves and red vests; large white “D’s” on the fronts. No, these were clearly decent boys, so I holstered my weapons.
“You can relax now guys. Sorry, but I take no chances. Who are you and why are you following me?”
“We’re here to join you!” They both said simultaneously.
“Really.” I replied rather flatly, tilting my head slightly, and resisting the temptation to bring my Ace Ventura impression into the conversation. No, that humor was for Brick and Kip only.
“We have been following your story from the beginning, Ms. Redstone, all the way back.” They took turns speaking. “Fort Puller, the monastery, the balloon, the Pinebluff fight, the Fifth Mounted Regiment, Dr. Cott, Braidwood, Kip Kellogg, all of it.”
They were excited, talking fast. “We learned from another traveler that Brick had stayed in the Dakotas and that you were off with Ben. My brother and I knew then that we must find and join you...if you would allow us to do it, that is.”
I could see the gleam in their eyes, the excitement, the thrill of the adventure.
The shadows were beginning to get long, so I interrupted, “Let’s pause the conversation for now, guys, and find a camp for the night.”
I had noticed a forest ranger fire lookout tower half a mile ahead, past the bridge, so we grabbed a few supplies from a nearby convenience store, and then quickly moved to the tower and set up in a perfect position for the night.
Josh and Lou Beauchamp turned out to be solid young men, on their own for almost two years. They had no living family and moved from one location to another, helping folks as they went along, but never staying in place for long. Their search for adventure kept them moving. As they survived each occasional dangerous encounter, their skills improved, although I detected that much of their success was due to plain good luck. Being country boys, they fortunately never witnessed the awful onslaught of a massive runner attack, something I had – through multiple experiences – learned must be avoided with planning and reconnaissance, if possible.
Their weapons selection offered further evidence of their inexperience, being comprised of five round, pump-action shotguns and one six-shot revolver apiece. Twenty-two rounds between them, and weapons that offered slow reload action; it would not suffice in a mob attack. It was apparent that, somehow, these boys had never encountered or even seen a horde.
As we set up for the night, I could sense Josh andLou observing my every action, studying my equipment, even my food. Their exuberant youthfulness made me feel a little old, even a little motherly. I anticipated that my nightly drill of equipment maintenance and practice would no doubt evoke some interesting comments.
Oh well
...
In the twilight, Ben’s head snapped up in alert and he quickly moved out of the tower hut to look down at something. I could feel the eager anticipation in my two new acquaintances as I scooped up my rifle to evaluate Ben’s concern: a pair of sniffing runners, evidently on our trail, but stymied by the tower where we camped.
I immediately dispatched both of them, each with a single, fairly quiet bullet.
“Aren’t you worried about attracting more?” Lou asked.
“One or two shots will not bring others,” I replied, “not unless they are very near.
“Finally!” One said excitedly, “Nicki Redstone! We’ve been trying to find you for two weeks. Damn! You are fast! Sorry about the cursing, ma’am.”
I looked the pair up and down as they stood in front of me, dripping in sweat and waiting for my next move. Midwest accents, probably Nebraska country. Tall boys, blonde haired and blue-eyed; they were clean-cut and well groomed, as were the dogs. Their manners were respectful, and I detected none of the odd ornaments,clothing or behaviors that often presage unpleasant action or intent.
They both wore high school letterman jackets with the traditional white leather sleeves and red vests; large white “D’s” on the fronts. No, these were clearly decent boys, so I holstered my weapons.
“You can relax now guys. Sorry, but I take no chances. Who are you and why are you following me?”
“We’re here to join you!” They both said simultaneously.
“Really.” I replied rather flatly, tilting my head slightly, and resisting the temptation to bring my Ace Ventura impression into the conversation. No, that humor was for Brick and Kip only.
“We have been following your story from the beginning, Ms. Redstone, all the way back.” They took turns speaking. “Fort Puller, the monastery, the balloon, the Pinebluff fight, the Fifth Mounted Regiment, Dr. Cott, Braidwood, Kip Kellogg, all of it.”
They were excited, talking fast. “We learned from another traveler that Brick had stayed in the Dakotas and that you were off with Ben. My brother and I knew then that we must find and join you...if you would allow us to do it, that is.”
I could see the gleam in their eyes, the excitement, the thrill of the adventure.
The shadows were beginning to get long, so I interrupted, “Let’s pause the conversation for now, guys, and find a camp for the night.”
I had noticed a forest ranger fire lookout tower half a mile ahead, past the bridge, so we grabbed a few supplies from a nearby convenience store, and then quickly moved to the tower and set up in a perfect position for the night.
Josh and Lou Beauchamp turned out to be solid young men, on their own for almost two years. They had no living family and moved from one location to another, helping folks as they went along, but never staying in place for long. Their search for adventure kept them moving. As they survived each occasional dangerous encounter, their skills improved, although I detected that much of their success was due to plain good luck. Being country boys, they fortunately never witnessed the awful onslaught of a massive runner attack, something I had – through multiple experiences – learned must be avoided with planning and reconnaissance, if possible.
Their weapons selection offered further evidence of their inexperience, being comprised of five round, pump-action shotguns and one six-shot revolver apiece. Twenty-two rounds between them, and weapons that offered slow reload action; it would not suffice in a mob attack. It was apparent that, somehow, these boys had never encountered or even seen a horde.
As we set up for the night, I could sense Josh andLou observing my every action, studying my equipment, even my food. Their exuberant youthfulness made me feel a little old, even a little motherly. I anticipated that my nightly drill of equipment maintenance and practice would no doubt evoke some interesting comments.
Oh well
...
In the twilight, Ben’s head snapped up in alert and he quickly moved out of the tower hut to look down at something. I could feel the eager anticipation in my two new acquaintances as I scooped up my rifle to evaluate Ben’s concern: a pair of sniffing runners, evidently on our trail, but stymied by the tower where we camped.
I immediately dispatched both of them, each with a single, fairly quiet bullet.
“Aren’t you worried about attracting more?” Lou asked.
“One or two shots will not bring others,” I replied, “not unless they are very near.
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