drive people to do some stupe things. He’d seen muties do crazy shit for no reason he could conceive.
Norms, too, now that he thought about it.
Already the wind was picking up. “We don’t have long, do we?” Ryan asked.
Doc shook his head. “Soon the eye will have passed. We are in the proverbial calm before the storm.”
“The eye-wall winds are the fiercest in a hurricane.” Her injured shipmate safely on the ground, Isis had walked up to the group. “What do you intend to do, Cawdor?”
Everybody always asked him that. The thought grimly amused him. “Don’t have much experience with hurricanes in these kinds of circumstances. I’d say we should find as dry and sheltered a spot as we can, mebbe tie ourselves to some trees that don’t look like they’ll blow over easily, and try triple-hard not to die.”
The exotic woman’s silver topknot bobbed as she nodded. “Sounds like as good a plan as any. But I was curious what you and your companions had in mind.”
He scratched his eyebrow with his thumbnail. “We still work for you, far as I know.”
“Your contract was with Long Tom.”
“He don’t seem to be around,” J.B. said, “so looks like you’re the boss now.”
“We signed on to protect you,” Ryan said. “Don’t know how good a job I can say we’ve done so far. But once we take a job, we see it through.”
The captain showed gleaming white teeth. “If you people knew a way to defend against a hurricane, you’d be the bosses of everything. You’ve fought alongside us and done what you could. Only problem is, paying you could be a problem. No way we get poor Egret unloaded before the eye passes and the hammer comes down.”
“We’ll see the storm out,” Ryan said. “Then if we live, we can work out the details.”
“Our best bet’s sticking together anyway, right now,” Krysty said. “We should be finding a lie-up.”
Isis nodded. “See to that then. We’ll—”
Ryan heard a hard thunk. Mildred cursed, and Isis glanced back toward where her surviving comrades were gathered.
“Looks like Freebo decided he didn’t like his chances and opted to catch the last train for the coast,” she said.
“Poor Mildred,” Krysty said. “She takes losing a patient that way hard.”
“Forget her for now,” Ryan said. “You heard the lady. Let’s find cover and get ourselves stuck into it.”
“W ATER RISING ,” Jak said.
“Oh, dear,” Mildred said.
Silently, Krysty echoed the sentiment. Then the physician gave voice to Krysty’s own fear, which she hoped no one would voice.
“Do the eye-wall winds drive a second storm surge?” Mildred asked, her voice rising and taking on an edge that bespoke the nearness of panic. “If another tsunami like the last one hits us here, we’re toast. Um, soggy toast.”
“Easy, Mildred,” Ryan said, his voice calm.
“Nothing we can do about it, anyway.”
They had found a clearing in a cypress grove whose floor Isis estimated rose four feet about the current level of the nameless bayou chance and the tsunami had dumped them on. It was the best shelter anyone had been able to find in a fast recce. Doc and Jak had inspected the trees, one using his antique science, the other his intimate knowledge of nature and swamp terrain, and pronounced their roots sound and liable to hold. Krysty had no way of knowing if either had the faintest notion of what he was talking about. But the roots seemed sound to her, too, and anyway, it wasn’t as if they had a lot of choice.
The most important thing was that the survivors of the Egret could all clump together in the little clear space without being too crowded, yet able to grab one another and the trees if threatened with being swept away by wind and water.
After a hurried consultation out of earshot of the rest, Ryan and Isis had agreed they wouldn’t try lashing themselves to the trees. They had enough forest around them to damp the effects of the wind. And if the waters did get
Norms, too, now that he thought about it.
Already the wind was picking up. “We don’t have long, do we?” Ryan asked.
Doc shook his head. “Soon the eye will have passed. We are in the proverbial calm before the storm.”
“The eye-wall winds are the fiercest in a hurricane.” Her injured shipmate safely on the ground, Isis had walked up to the group. “What do you intend to do, Cawdor?”
Everybody always asked him that. The thought grimly amused him. “Don’t have much experience with hurricanes in these kinds of circumstances. I’d say we should find as dry and sheltered a spot as we can, mebbe tie ourselves to some trees that don’t look like they’ll blow over easily, and try triple-hard not to die.”
The exotic woman’s silver topknot bobbed as she nodded. “Sounds like as good a plan as any. But I was curious what you and your companions had in mind.”
He scratched his eyebrow with his thumbnail. “We still work for you, far as I know.”
“Your contract was with Long Tom.”
“He don’t seem to be around,” J.B. said, “so looks like you’re the boss now.”
“We signed on to protect you,” Ryan said. “Don’t know how good a job I can say we’ve done so far. But once we take a job, we see it through.”
The captain showed gleaming white teeth. “If you people knew a way to defend against a hurricane, you’d be the bosses of everything. You’ve fought alongside us and done what you could. Only problem is, paying you could be a problem. No way we get poor Egret unloaded before the eye passes and the hammer comes down.”
“We’ll see the storm out,” Ryan said. “Then if we live, we can work out the details.”
“Our best bet’s sticking together anyway, right now,” Krysty said. “We should be finding a lie-up.”
Isis nodded. “See to that then. We’ll—”
Ryan heard a hard thunk. Mildred cursed, and Isis glanced back toward where her surviving comrades were gathered.
“Looks like Freebo decided he didn’t like his chances and opted to catch the last train for the coast,” she said.
“Poor Mildred,” Krysty said. “She takes losing a patient that way hard.”
“Forget her for now,” Ryan said. “You heard the lady. Let’s find cover and get ourselves stuck into it.”
“W ATER RISING ,” Jak said.
“Oh, dear,” Mildred said.
Silently, Krysty echoed the sentiment. Then the physician gave voice to Krysty’s own fear, which she hoped no one would voice.
“Do the eye-wall winds drive a second storm surge?” Mildred asked, her voice rising and taking on an edge that bespoke the nearness of panic. “If another tsunami like the last one hits us here, we’re toast. Um, soggy toast.”
“Easy, Mildred,” Ryan said, his voice calm.
“Nothing we can do about it, anyway.”
They had found a clearing in a cypress grove whose floor Isis estimated rose four feet about the current level of the nameless bayou chance and the tsunami had dumped them on. It was the best shelter anyone had been able to find in a fast recce. Doc and Jak had inspected the trees, one using his antique science, the other his intimate knowledge of nature and swamp terrain, and pronounced their roots sound and liable to hold. Krysty had no way of knowing if either had the faintest notion of what he was talking about. But the roots seemed sound to her, too, and anyway, it wasn’t as if they had a lot of choice.
The most important thing was that the survivors of the Egret could all clump together in the little clear space without being too crowded, yet able to grab one another and the trees if threatened with being swept away by wind and water.
After a hurried consultation out of earshot of the rest, Ryan and Isis had agreed they wouldn’t try lashing themselves to the trees. They had enough forest around them to damp the effects of the wind. And if the waters did get
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