The Wasteland Soldier, Book 1, A Fractured World

Fourteen

Stone stood at the edge of town.

The rope slipped down from the post as heads turned to see who the newcomer was. Dorran, crumpled in the dirt, flicked open his eyes, the noose hanging around his neck.

"I am the Cleric. Do you have a name stranger?"

"I can tell you who he is," said the Map Maker. "They call him the Tongueless Man. He's the one who stole my maps."

Marge turned to look at Stone and a raft of whispers travelled though the people. With the lynch mob distracted, a woman reached down to untie Dorran's wrists.

"He has our children," shouted a voice, as Ramon slowly reached for his pistol. "Locked them in the school with a handful of bombs."

Stone drew, lightning fast, the revolver suddenly in his gloved hand, his finger squeezing the trigger, the hammer slamming down, the chamber turning, the bullet hitting Ramon square in the chest, sending him sprawling to the ground. Horrified, the Cleric ran to his second in command and knelt down beside him, lifting his head from the ground. Stone moved, keeping low. He fired off two more shots, one bullet stinging the ground, the second clipping the thigh of a warrior. The Blood Sun warriors looked for cover as a rifle cracked from above and the Cleric saw another of his brave warriors struck down. There were screams and people scattered in every direction, everyone running except the parents, who dropped to the road, hands covering their heads. Bann fired her crossbow at Stone and the bolt whistled past his head.

"The signal," shouted the Cleric, as Ramon died in his hands. "Now."

She drew a large pistol from her furs and fired into the sky. A projectile shot into the air, exploding in a shower of sparks.

Crouched behind a slew of debris, Stone kept firing until his revolver was empty. Marge raised her shotgun and emptied both barrels at Bann, blasting her into the air like a rag doll.

"No," screamed the Cleric. He looked at the detonator in his hand and then ran for the school building.

On one knee, Stone looked down the barrel of his rifle and drilled a bullet into another warrior as an arrow sailed over his head. There was rapid gunfire all around and the swish of arrows and crossbow bolts. The ground around Stone erupted with bullets and he raced for cover down the side of the school building. He spotted the Cleric unlocking the door and rolled around the corner of the wall to open fire but a volley of bullets forced him back. A scream from above saw a man plunge from one of the rooftops.

Stone hurriedly reloaded his revolver, eyes scanning the street and school yard. Again bullets sprayed from behind a low wall. He waited and as the warrior came into view to fire again he shot him through the eye. He lowered his revolver as the children suddenly ran into the yard and parents scooped them up and fled. Marge cracked open her shotgun and shoved two shells in. As she snapped it shut she heard the roar of engines and saw a number of vehicles moving down from the tribe's camp. She raised her shotgun and fired again, hitting a fleeing warrior in the back.

Stone took down the last one. He reached the front of the school. The doors were open. Marge was at his side and two other men with handguns were with her. He offered cover and the two men went inside, fanning out, sweeping the room. Stone and Marge followed, taking a door each. She burst into the classroom. Saw the explosives abandoned on a desk. Saw the open windows. The Cleric and a few surviving warriors were fleeing across the brush, towards the vehicles driving down from the camp. He was still holding the detonator.

"Out," yelled Marge.

Leaping into his armoured car, the Cleric twisted the detonator and watched the building erupt in a fireball. It blew apart the building next to it. A shower of bricks and metal rained back down and the air filled with thick smoke.