Iron Rage by James Axler Page A

clouds were blotting the stars. Dawn looked as if it was still far away, even if it felt as if they’d been crawling along the water for roughly ever.
    From somewhere ahead and to his left, a harsh voice barked, “Hey! Who goes there!”
    * * *
    â€œF IREBLAST ,” K RYSTY HEARD Ryan say under his breath.
    Ahead to port a light suddenly glowed alive, not twenty yards away from them. It showed hints of firelight-yellowed faces and a peculiar-looking superstructure.
    Her heart sank. It could only be a New Vickville patrol boat. Somehow they’d almost run into it without even seeing it. It wasn’t just the darkness, she realized. The craft’s shadowed shape blended seamlessly against the larger shadow-masses of the fleet behind it.
    â€œSpeak the password,” the angry-sounding male voice called out. “Or we’ll open fire, you P’ville cocksuckers!”
    From the right and almost abeam, a second light appeared, reaching out at them across the rolling Sippi waters. It was only a lantern, and its beam was feeble, but it was strong enough to shine upon them faintly. Mostly, it signified the presence of a second patrol boat.
    â€œWe’re lost,” Myron groaned, burying his face in his hands.
    Krysty turned and put her arm around him to comfort him, but mostly in hopes of shutting him up. They didn’t need to go out of their way to attract more attention. Although it was hard to see any way in which they weren’t caught.
    â€œRyan,” Abner said, “it’s your call.”
    â€œTake her as fast as you can for the near boat,” Ryan clipped out. “Pass close as you dare to port of her. On my word, cut power. Then when I tell you, accelerate, keep turning to port until you’re near the bank and head back up Wolf Creek to the Queen .”
    Krysty saw the man’s eyes widen, but he bobbed his head. The noise of the motor increased and the caravan slowly began to pick up speed.
    Despite their initial threats, the crew of the first patrol craft didn’t seem to know what to do. Krysty heard them shouting at each other about “raising a head of steam” and “orders.” The chug of a much larger engine than the launch’s came from the other boat, though.
    A new voice bellowed from the near vessel. “Open fire, you stupes! Blow the P’ville taints out of the damn water!”
    The deck cannon went off. It seemed to Krysty as if the muzzle-flare would envelop them. But although the noise of the cannon firing struck her in the face as if she’d been flung into a board fence, and seemed to deafen her, the shot flew high over their heads. High enough that she dared hope it missed their rafts and dinghy, as well.
    Then she was choking on dense sulfurous smoke.
    The bow of the patrol boat loomed like a peak overthem. “Cut the throttle!” Ryan commanded. With the powerful drag of the heavy-laden craft in tow, the launch rapidly lost way.
    Ryan laid his longblaster on the plank seat between them. “Ryan, what are you doing?” she asked as he stood up into a pantherish crouch, steadying himself with hands on the gunwales.
    â€œI’ll be back, Krysty,” he said. “Full power now, Abner!”
    Then Ryan launched himself toward the enemy patrol boat.

Chapter Nine
    I’m going to feel like the biggest stupe on Earth if I miss my handhold. The words flashed through Ryan’s mind as he flew through the air above the darkened waters of the Sippi.
    He barely had time to finish the thought before he struck the New Vick patrol boat’s hull. His hands by sheer dumb luck found the scuppers. Behind him he heard the growl of a small motor rising as Abner, following Ryan’s last commands, turned the launch and her tow-train and ran hard for the bank.
    He hauled himself up, boot soles scrabbling against the wooden hull. He got enough of a purchase to push up and grab the rail. Then he got the toes of