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The stranger propped himself up on one elbow, made a tentative move to touch
his groin, blinked around, licked his lips and said faintly, "Hey."
"Hey yourself," Mildred replied. "Before you ask, you're not hurt too badly.
Contusions, abrasions, a lot of lacerations, but most are superficial."
The man peered at her suspiciously. "You talk like a healer."
"I am. What's your name?"
The man scanned the faces in the back of the wag. "Those screamwings nearly
chewed me to pieces. You got 'em off me?"
"Yeah," Ryan answered. "It was the only fair thing to do since we stirred them
up."
"Accidentally," Krysty added. "The vibrations of the engine disturbed them."
Ryan made quick introductions all around, but the stranger didn't seem
inclined to identify himself.
"Where are you from?" the man asked.
"Far and away, hither and yon," Doc replied with a smile.
"Never heard of them places," the man muttered.
"We're still waiting to hear your name," Mildred reminded him.
"Zadfrak."
"What?"
"Zadfrak," the man said impatiently. "I don't stutter, do I?"
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Jak snickered, but fell silent when Ryan glanced his way.
"Where you from?" J.B. asked.
"Helskel."
Ryan's eyes narrowed. "That a ville, or what?"
Groaning, Zadfrak sat up. "A what."
Though the light was dimming, Ryan gave Zadfrak a close inspection. No longer
covered in blood, he didn't look like a healthy man. His face bore a deep
pallor that the sun could never touch, and his naked torso and limbs were
fishbelly white. Between red-rimmed, watery blue eyes, an X was carved into
the bridge of his nose. The scar looked like the result of a painful process
involving a red-hot needle. Though the man appeared to be in his early- to
mid-thirties, he was thin to the point of emaciation.
"Not carrying weapons," Jak said.
"So? That a crime?"
"No. Just triple stupe."
"How far to this Helskel?" J.B. demanded.
"What difference does it make to you, four-eyes?"
Ryan tensed, but J.B. only smiled gently. He took his foot off the gas pedal
and allowed the wag to slow to a crawl. Turning his head to look at Zadfrak,
he said in a quiet voice, "The difference is that I know just about every
settlement, outpost and ville in
Deathlands. I never heard of a Helskel."
In a quick flick of the wrist, J.B. picked up the M-4000 from the passenger
seat, swung it around and pressed the bore against Zadfrak's back. "And since
you were on a motorcycle, it means that wherever you came from isn't far from
where we found you.
And if you talk to me like that again, the screamwings will finish you off.
Now answer my question."
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Zadfrak seemed undisturbed by J.B.'s words and the pressure of the blaster. He
coughed a deep racking sound from the bottom of his lungs. He put a hand to
his mouth, spit into it, examined the result and flung his hand down. The
sputum made a bright pink blob on the dark metal of the floorplates.
"Rad cancer," Mildred commented, leaning back on her knees. "I suspected as
much."
Zadfrak smiled sourly. "Yeah. That's why I was out on my bike with no weapons.
Didn't give a shit what came after me& screamwings, stickies, whatever." He
half turned his head toward J.B. "So go ahead and shoot. You'll beat the
reaper by a couple of weeks, mebbe less."
J.B. put his weapon back on the seat and returned his attention to driving.
"If that's the case," Ryan said, "you want to be dropped off by the side of
the road?"
Zadfrak shook his head. "No. Figure I wasn't supposed to chill myself this
way. Fate or destiny or some kind of shit brought us together. Might as well
see where the ride takes me."
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