Killing Ground Read Free Page B

base barnacles, so we’ll live in hope and go on defending the bastards.’
    With supreme delicacy and skill Burke nursed the GM V-6 over a rise without having to change down, and saved another spoonful of diesel. ‘Hell, Sarge, you don’t believe those stories do you? They’ve been going the rounds as long as the Zone has been in existence.’
    ‘Hey, can someone clue me in on this?’ Ripper stepped on toes as he hauled himself forward and into the exchange. ‘What the heck is Paradise Valley?’ 
    ‘It’s a fiction.’ Clarence gave up trying to sleep, and flexed his fingers around the long slim barrel of the sniper rifle propped between his knees. ‘Like Burke says, it’s a fairy story. But if you have to know, think of it as the Quartermaster’s version of the elephants’ graveyard. It’s supposed to be a fabulous dump where they keep all the goodies and essentials that are permanently in short supply. The rumour of its existence probably sprang into being after the first Warpac attack, when some poor devil on the NATO side ran out of what he needed most. You know, little things, like ammo, or morphine.’
    ‘Or fuel,’ Thorne butted in. ‘Or maybe transport, for a fast retreat. We seem to have been doing that since the evening of the first day.’
    ‘Holy shit.’ Ripper was all toothy enthusiasm. ‘I don’t give a damn if it’s rumour or fairy story. Hey, if it’s no more real than that, maybe we can still trade on it. My Daddy used to make money out of stills that weren’t real. He used to tell the revenue about them, always collecting cash money up front. Then when they hit the site and there weren’t nothing there he used to swear they must just have moved on. By then he’d spent the reward so there weren’t nothing they could do.’
    ‘I’ve seen everything traded in the Zone, but never fairy stories.’ Thorne leaned back against the bare condensation-streaked metal of the hull, and by closing his eyes took himself out of the conversation.
    ‘There are plenty of refugees trapped in the Zone who’ve paid fortunes, for bogus maps of safe routes to the west, or handed over all they’ve got to so-called guides who dump their customers as soon as they’ve been paid. In advance of course.’ Clarence too had tired of what he saw as pointless speculation. Settling back, he sought what comfort he could in the vehicle’s hard shell, festooned as it was with sharp angles, projecting brackets and hanging equipment.
    He flinched and his eyes flickered open as another body slumped against his. He relaxed his instantly tensed muscles when he saw that it was Andrea. With her alone he could bear any form of physical contact. Even that, by insinuating a pack between them, he kept to a minimum. Still he could not repress an involuntary shudder as the warmth of her breath on his shoulder permeated his layers of clothing.
    Ripper was not so easily to be put down, and after a short pause made another attempt to draw one of the crew, anyone who could profess to some knowledge on the subject in which he’d taken such interest. ‘Well, if we do come across it we’d be sure to be able to take on extra gas, or maybe even swap these ancient wrecks for better transport.’ He looked around hopefully.
    ‘It’s a dream; forget it.’ As Revell hoisted himself into the command cupola he caught a glimpse of Andrea, where she snuggled against their sniper. Much as he loathed the sight of her with anybody else, it took an effort for him to pull his eyes away.
    Through the mud-smeared thick prisms he viewed the road ahead. It twisted and turned constantly, sometimes flanked by shallow banks but fairly level, but then suddenly climbing with a broken rock wall to one side and a precipitous drop to the other. They passed through a tiny village, just fifteen half-timbered houses, a tiny combined store and gas station and a tall spired church. It had been looted and abandoned long ago. Except for fading paint on