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finished with whatever it was that Captain Huston wanted from them. He hurried along
the deck, shoulders hunched against the cold.
"Nearly there, sir," one of the sailors called. "One more lot of steps."
The higher they went, the thicker grew the fog. Ryan remembered Doc's saying about not
being able to see your hand in front of your face. It was very nearly true.
"In here." The officer stepped aside from the half-glassed door onto the control area of
the Golden Eagle. It was flooded with light from several oil lamps, and Ryan and J.B.
blinked, dazzled by the brightness. They were able to make out the stocky figure of
Captain Huston, gold braid glinting on his uniform, standing by the sailor at the huge
wheel.
But there were other people standing on the bridge of the stern-wheeler. One was
enormously fat, another skinny with metallic gloves, a cruel smile slashed across his
reconstructed face, and three or four sec men, all with drawn and cocked blasters.
Ryan felt his heart sink. It was a trap after all, though he couldn't quite see the scope of
his enemies' plan yet. He was aware of J.B. tensing at his side, half lifting the Uzi.
"A hasty action would be regretted by everyone, John Dix," Wolfram said in a warm,
buttery tone, "and would mean the deaths of your friends."
"Your absent friends," the Magus added.
The calliope suddenly stopped playing, and they all heard the noise that it had been
masking, the noise that Jak thought he might have heard a few minutes earlier.
It was a powerful engine, revving up somewhere on the port side of the Golden Eagle.
Then Ryan saw the plan.
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Axler, James - Deathlands 33 - Eclipse at Noon
"They've lifted Krysty and the others," he snapped. Pushing one of the burly sec men out
of his way, he threw open the door and ran out into the fog, going to the port side,
peering past the red navigation light in the gloom. J.B. was at his shoulder. Oddly nobody
had tried to stop them.
They could just make out the source of the noise. A flat-bottomed boat was roaring away,
its white wake visible against the blackness of the river. The fog was too thick to make
out who was aboard, though Ryan thought that he spotted a splash of brilliant red that had
to be a woman's hair.
Then the boat was gone.
Wolfram's voice insinuated into the mist from behind them. "Do come in out of the cold,
Ryan, my old friend. We have a great deal to talk about."
KRYSTY WATCHED the bright lights of the boat disappear into the clinging mist. It
had been so easy, the snatch done with admirable efficiency by the half-dozen sec men.
They'd been waiting patiently in the shadows of the deck as she had led the others toward
their cabins, all holding cocked automatics.
There was a shout above the noise of the thundering steam organ. "Got you cold!"
Jak stepped back and drew his Magnum, and was immediately clubbed to the deck from
behind, falling unconscious at the feet of his attacker. "Don't nobody else try to get
fucking triple-stupe, and you all stay living and unhurt."
"Pick up the kid," he said to one of his colleagues.
"He's not a kid," Krysty told him, aware of what a feeble response that was.
"Don't give a fuck, Krysty," said the apparent leader of the ambush. "Keep your hands
high while we take away the blasters. Then move on around the back of the boat to the
left side."
"Port," Doc said mockingly.
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Axler, James - Deathlands 33 - Eclipse at Noon
The man laughed, the sound devoid of any humor. "That so? Best keep your flap shut,
Doc, or you'll be on the deck with the kid."
The guns were removed with professional ease, though Krysty noticed that they had
missed some of Jak's knives. And they ignored Doc's swordstick.
"Move it."
"Could dive for it," Mildred whispered. "Never hit us in this fog."
"Shut the fuck up, you black bitch!"
Mildred turned instantly on the man, and he backed away from the flaming anger in her
face, even though he was the one holding the gun.
Krysty thought about Mildred's suggestion, and blanked it. Jak wasn't a strong swimmer,
nor was Doc. And they could easily get lost in the mist, in a river that was at least a half-
mile wide. It wasn't a gamble worth the taking.
She laid a hand on Mildred's arm, calming her rage. "Later," she breathed.
They moved around the stern of the vessel, along the port side, where Krysty saw a boat
waiting, with a double outboard engine, tied to the lowered gangway. It began to look as
if they were victims of a complex conspiracy that probably involved Captain Huston and
some of his crew, including the invisible musician pumping away at the calliope,
covering the noise of the boat's engine as it had arrived alongside the Golden Eagle.
Three more armed men were already in the boat, one holding the tiller. The leader of the
sec group gestured to Krysty, Mildred and Doc. "Down the ladder and into the boat.
Quick and easy. Any of you make a break, the others die that moment."
It was done smoothly. Jak was dumped, moaning feebly, in the bottom of the boat, while
the engine revved up. Krysty stood in the stern, peering up toward the dim spot of golden
light that was the bridge of the stern-wheeler, wondering if Ryan was there. If Ryan was
still living.
At that moment the calliope stopped playing, and the boat moved away into the center of
the Sippi. Krysty watched the Golden Eagle vanish behind her.
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Axler, James - Deathlands 33 - Eclipse at Noon
FOR A MOMENT Ryan considered plunging off the bridge into the river, but there were
too many reasons not to risk it. The powerful motorboat was gone, and he could easily
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