Survivalist - 21.5 - The Legend (41 page)

The vehicles were entering onto the bridge, driving four across, filling the bridge from one side to the other. Shots rang out, the range too great for any accurate effect.

John Rourke looked at the detonator switch in his right hand. The stolen truck was clear of the bridge, onto the road. “Daddy? Are you going to-“

Tm holding out for maximum effect, Annie. Just another few seconds,” Rourke told his daughter.

The wind of their slipstream tore at Rourke’s face and hair and ears.

The lead element of the enemy vehicles was approaching the near end of the bridge, coming up fast. John Rourke flipped the release from the protective cover.

He put his thumb over the red button.

He depressed the button and counted, “One thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three-” John Rourke didn’t throw away the detonator because doubtless, he would need it again.

The near end of the bridge buckled upward, the supports beneath it flying outward to right and left, the sounds from the six explosive charges all but blocked by the sound of twisting and tearing metal.

The near end of the bridge collapsed inward, men and equipment careening through the air, where seconds earlier die bridge had been falling, now the bridge collapsing around them.

John Rourke swung into the cab and pulled the door closed. He put his arm around his daughter’s shoulders and said, “On to bigger and better things.

Fourteen

The trail used by the smugglers and slavers who dealt with the Land Pirates was not through the rift valley but along the plateau to its west. Much of the land here was radioactive or chemically contaminated. By trial and error, the smugglers and slavers had found a safe route.

But it could be traveled by horseback alone, the electrical storms which whipped across the plateau on either side, coming without warning, sometimes lacerating the barren ground with heavy rains. Sometimes electrical activity alone, would neutralize the electrical system of any vehicle the smugglers and slavers possessed. So, teams of horses, four abreast, as many as twelve animals in all per vehicle, were used to tow engineless trucks which carried in plunder and carried out women, from the stronghold of the Land Pirates.

Boris was left to Natalia and Annie to interrogate, and whatever they threatened to do to him-Paul Rubenstein did not want to know-Boris proved a font of information. Like bullies everywhere, without his friends to back him up, he was a coward. The tapes made of his answers during the interrogation provided even more information that they had expected.

Indeed, Martin Zimmer was with the Land Pirates. For years, Zimrnef had let them exist, even helped them, but now he was forming a formal alliance. With promises of the latest in Eden military equipment and a steady supply of women and anything else they wanted from Eden, he was consummating an arrangement by which the Land Pirates would systemati

cally hit every settlement in the Wildlands.

The objective, as far as Boris knew, was to kill anyone who might oppose Martin Zimmer, kidnap the usable women and kill the rest, along with the children who were too young for sexual or other uses. Then he would impress the healthy men into the service of Eden. Boris knew many of the details, he revealed, because he was trying to work an alliance with the Land Pirates where he could “get in on the action” and make a profit.

Martin wanted to assemble an army in the west before he attacked the Allies, an army that would cover his back.

Boris also revealed that route used by the Land Pirates through the rift valley was secure not so much because it was a secret, but because of the plasma energy weapons that were installed along its length. The weapons-energy cannons-were programmed to fire automatically when motion sensors hidden along the walls of the rift valley, detected movement.

When the Land Pirates exited or entered, the defense system was shut down in stages, but never completely off.

The larger vehicles used by the Land Pirates-and intelligence data corroborated this-were enormous, mobile fortresses almost the size of World War Two aircraft carriers, moving over any obstacle their sheer momentum and weight did not crush, on a system of independentiy operating treads, each of these many times larger than those used in twentieth century tanks.

Paul had wondered, from the intell data and again after Boris’s interrogation covered them, how such machines could operate without just sinking into the ground out of sheer weight.

But the tread design and independent drive for each tread system, John theorized, allowed the vehicle to tow itself out of anything, without ever becoming stuck or bogged down.

The Land Pirates possessed ^sufficient technology to build such vehicles, or program computer controlled weapons. But, Eden did. According to Boris, agents of Eden actually con

trolled the Land Pirates. And the vehicles were built in Eden. Even if no one knew, Boris had said, Eden had hundreds of these vehicles, built in secret, ready to deploy against the allies.

Paul Rubenstein had studied Latin five days a week in high school (and Hebrew over the weekend, of course). At last, he finally remembered something he’d been trying to recall since the first data on Eden was given to him, after this last Awakening.

It was about Martin Zimmer’s name. In Latin, Martin meant the warlike. It seemed to be a name that fit.

Fifteen

It was good to be back in her own clothes, her skirt a respectable length.

She remembered the lovely young Chinese agent who had ridden sidesaddle, and tried to teach her to do the same. Annie Rubenstein could have done it, she supposed, but what was the sense? Riding astride had once been considered terribly unfeminine, she knew, from the books she had read, the video tape movies she had watched. But, riding astride was the most practical way to get from one place to another on horseback.

Someday, there might be a world in which she could ride for pleasure, because she genuinely liked riding horseback. But not in this world.

After two nights of camping in the Wildlands without even so much as an hermetically sealed tent, she felt positively grubby and didnt even want to think about her hair. But this was her job as much as it was her father’s job or her husband’s job or her brother’s job-or Natalia’s.

She had noticed it subconsciously, feelings from her rather, about this man named Martin Zimmer. And the nearer they came to the Land Pirates stronghold, the greater sense of unease she felt.

Last night, in their dark and cold camp, the electrical activity in the sky becoming maddeningly intense and cold rains washing down on them, her father had spoken of their plan. This Martin Zimmer, whoever he is,” her father began, “is

getting ready for war. If he attacks the allies, eventually it will come to nuclear weapons. Intelligence data indicates he has gas and biological weapons as well. The allies won’t have any choice but to defend themselves with their own nuclear weapons. Parts of the earth are starting to return to life. Other parts may never come back. If there’s another nuclear war now, we all know what that will mean.

“And Martin has to be counting on that.”

Why did her father call this man by his first name, rather than calling him “Zimmer”? The feelings were stronger in her, as if someone were invading her thoughts without trying.

She urged her horse ahead along the track that paralleled the rift valley where once the Mississippi had flowed.

This was once the land of Mark Twain and his Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer and his Becky.

But in another few hours’ ride, it would be the stronghold of the Land Pirates …

He had already formulated a plan, and if the terrain, as the talkative Boris had described it, were close enough in reality, they would have a decent chance of making it inside. Escaping the stronghold was another question, but he had plans for that as well, again very dependent on Boris’s information.

Martin Zimmer.

John Rourke was already beginning to understand that. He could see it in Annie, almost sense it in her. But, even if he had Annie’s ability (gift or curse)-and he thanked God that he did not-he would have fought it, rejected it.

Martin Zimmer.

It was not that sort of feeling, any sixth sense message. It was something that to him would always be more powerful and inevitable.

It was logic.

It was necessity.

John Rourke urged his mount ahead with his knees and

heels.

To travel anywhere near the rift valley, Hilda and Dan and Margie required horses. These animals, she understood, were in part the descendants of horses given to Eden by New Germany over a century ago. The animals given to them by the Allied agents were a curious breed.

Natalia had ridden horseback all over the world, only occasionally for pleasure. The German horses were very strongly Arab in their lineage. But these horses of Eden were only partly Arab and part American quarter horse. Aboard the Eden shuttles, there were cryogerucally-frozen embryos of all the domestic animals that could concievably be useful is the retaking of a devastated earth.

The horse, after the camel, was the ultimate form of four-legged transportation, and far easier to control, not to mention more comfortable to ride.

When they reached their destination, the stronghold of the Land Pirates, the horses would be left unsaddled and tethered so that, with a litde effort, they could work their way free after a time. That way, if the horses were necessary for escape, they would be there. If the horses were left behind and John’s plan for getting hold of one of the Land Pirate mobile fortresses worked, the horses would eventually get free and 1 have a chance at survival. More than likely, the animals would j try to return to their home stable. j

Natalia’s mind settled on the question of Martin Zimmer. j John had begun calling him “Martin” and nothing else. I

And there was the question. j

The old woman about whom the German agent, known as | Hilda, had told them. She had scrawled the word “Devil” into f the snow and then carefully set a coin with the image of John Rourke in the center of the “D”.

The cult of personality that Martin Zimmer had built around John’s legend. It did not make sense that an evil man would

so oak a man who was good. Martin was clearly a Nazi, even bore the surname of Deitrich Zimmer who had been responsible far the woes which beset them now. Why would a Nazi, spawn a cult of personality around a man who, philo-sophKauy, could most closely be described as an Objectivist, a man who had spent his entire life fighting the very sort of tyranny Martin himself stood for?

What seemed irrational, she had learned very long ago, to someone, somewhere, was rational.

Why did Martin elevate John Rourke to the rank of some historical demi-god when they were so diametrically opposed philosophically?

Was it just a cruel joke?

In a very litde while-she checked the ladies Rolex on her left wrist-they would know.

Sixteen

It was a citadel, the stronghold of the Land Pirates.

He had watched it now for nearly twenty-four hours, memorizing every feature of it.

If evidence had at all been lacking to involve the government of Eden with the Land Pirates, here it was. The structure that was the fortress itself was fabricated of modern synth-concrete, not something whipped up in the Wildlands by men who were little more technologically advanced than Middle Ages barbarians.

During the late twentieth century, there was considerable furor concerning state lotteries, some talk of a national lottery as well. John Rourke did not see gambling as a moral issue. If people wanted to gamble, they should be free to do so. He did not gamble, simply because he thought it was a stupid waste of hard-earned money. If others wished to do so, good for them.

But now, there was no choice but to gamble, and considering that the lives of his wife, Sarah, and his son, Michael, and perhaps all their lives hung in the balance-it was the biggest gamble of his life.

Michael, although promising Natalia faithfully that he would grow it back, had promised that he would shave his mustache …

Michael Rourke walked down along the path, his parka open despite the cold, so that he would be visibly armed. He wore no assault rifle.

If his father’s plan did not work, he wanted access to his

guns even though he would die. At least he would kill a lew of the Land Pirates before he went down.

The two Berettas were in their shoulder rig, slingling a .92F below each armpit. The four-inch Metalife Custom Model 629 was in the crossdraw holster between his navel and his left hip. He wore the knife made for him by old Jon, the Swordmaker, as well.

He came down from the path and started walking toward the guard post on the north wall of the citadel.

Eventually, someone would notice him.

The electronic security which comprised the early warning system of the stronghold’s integrated perimeter defense was disarmed in two locations, thanks to Natalia and Paul. Bridging it, rather than interrupting it; it was extremely unlikely anyone monitoring the system knew anything had been done to it.

Within the next second or two, the guards on the wall would notice him, he told himself.

And then it would start.

And he hoped his father was right.

There was a shout “Hey! What the-“

Three guards on the wall had assault rifles to their shoulders and, from within the stronghold, an alarm began to sound.

Before anyone could shoot, Michael Rourke shouted up to the wall T am Martin Zimmer! The man who negotiates with your leaders is an imposter. Shoot at me and all of Eden will crush you!

The “crush you” line was something he extemporized on the spot and he thought it was rather effective.

The alarm which had begun sounding fifteen seconds ago still sounded as John Rourke, using the modern German equivalent of ninja climbing claws, scaled the synth-concrete wall of the citadel.

He reached the top, peering over. As he had predicted, human security was all looking toward the north wall where Mi

chad would be amounting himself just about now.