Doomsday Warrior 16 - American Overthrow Read Online Free PDF Page B

light. But he knew as well that once the dogs caught them it was all over. They weren’t huge—but there were just too many of them.
    Rockson had seen, from afar, thank God, the creatures take down a bison. First they surrounded it and then closed in, ripping at the legs to slow it down, then the throat. They started in on the stomach before the creature was even dead, fighting and snarling over the prize juicy items. He didn’t want to go out like that. Dying in bed with a beautiful blonde, maybe two, was more his style.
    The Freefighters slapped their reins against the sides of their ’brids’ necks, pushing them to full speed. Not that the powerful animals needed a hell of a lot of encouragement as they had scented the pack as well. Their eyes wide, nostrils flaring, the mounts tore through the darkness, their broad legs pumping. For a while they kept ahead, but the dogs broke up and spread out in smaller units darting through the woods, circling around trying to get ahead.
    Rockson could see that the animals were highly intelligent, moving in formation, planning, cutting off like any human general. And he saw that the dogs were slowly gaining as well. It was only a matter of time.
    As they came to the bottom of a slope, five of the mangy overtoothed mutts leaped out of the shadows. One of them caught its teeth around Rockson’s boot but he slammed it in the head with the butt of his shotpistol and it went flying off again with a wild yelp. The Doomsday Warrior opened up with the weapon, releasing three quick shots at the next three who were snapping at his ’brid’s legs. And they fell behind him in bloody heaps in the cold darkness. Detroit ripped off two grenades and heaved them straight back, not particularly caring where they landed, as long as they did something. There were sharp explosions and a momentary brilliance behind them.
    Suddenly they were surrounded, the woods on both sides filled with crunching branches and glowing eyes, howls of anger and hunger everywhere.
    “What is it with us tonight?” Detroit screamed as he rode alongside Rockson, the two ’brid’s almost touching flanks as they flew along. “We seem to be attracting every fucking meateater for a hundred miles. Didn’t I wear my deodorant?”
    “Could be all the lizzie-meat we’ve been hacking,” Rockson shouted back. “The scent must be coating us, driving them to a frenzy.” As they flew along a field covered with dead vegetation and pulled ahead about twenty yards of the closest of the lead dogs, Rockson saw something that made his heart leap with hope. At first just a dark band but as they galloped hard he saw that it was a raging river, about a hundred and fifty feet in width. Escape. Dangerous—but it was something.
    “That river ahead—see it?” Rock screamed.
    “Bet your balls I do,” Detroit yelled.
    “Let’s take a midnight swim. I don’t think these poochers are great water puppies. Not as good as hybrids, that’s for damned sure.”
    Rock knew that though the steeds didn’t exactly love water, they could navigate all but the roughest currents. As they grew closer, Rock could see foam bubbling along the top of the swift river. There were currents, eddies everywhere. It wasn’t exactly a bathtub, but he’d seen worse.
    They didn’t even slow down, but pushed the ’brids’ forward, kicking at their flanks. And if the mutant horses had their own doubts about taking a bath, they were more afraid of the dog packs. Both steeds kept turning their heads in full gallop to see them gaining, toothy mouths opened for the kill.
    They came to the bank and without the slightest hesitation the ’brids leaped forward. Both of them hit the river ten feet out almost side by side and began swimming frantically toward the other shore. Rock could feel the current was stronger than it even had looked from the safety of the solid ground. And they were quickly pulled along down-river, even as the hybrids struggled across.
    Rock