Free Doomsday Warrior 16 - American Overthrow by Ryder Stacy Page A

minutes of a “mega.”
    “Get the ’brids down,” Rock shouted over the sounds as he touched the front knees of Snorter’s legs and the hybrid obediently kneeled down on all fours, just as happy to curl up and take the weight off. The others followed suit although Chen’s steed seemed less relaxed about the whole affair. His regular ’brid, which he had ridden for several years had been seriously gashed by a wolf just months before. It was alive but still recuperating in the veterinary stables in C.C. This one was supposedly well-trained, but they could sense its anxiety as it made funny noises from deep in its throat. And why not?
    Then the shit exploded from the fan as the storm came tearing right overhead. The droplets of acid came gushing down in a waterfall onto the top of the tent and cascaded down all around them. The screams of the forest animals nearby rose to a crescendo as they were burnt horribly. It took time to die from the acidic rains. They burned the outer portions of the flesh first. It took minutes, sometimes many minutes for the sky-acid to reach any vital part of the animal. A torture of nature, as hideous as anything that man had ever devised.
    The winds came ever stronger, and they could feel the tent billowing all around them, the tent poles stretching sideways and flexing hard. If he had ever prayed that Shecter’s inventions would hold out, now was the time. Rockson closed his eyes and sent out a silent call to whoever was up there to spare them, not for their own lives, but because of the terrible importance of their mission. But the winds only spoke back louder, howling like ten thousand lions just outside their tent walls.
    Suddenly there was a commotion in the near darkness as Chen’s ’brid which had been down on its crouched legs suddenly got spooked by all the noise and thunder. It rose up before any of them realized what was happening and bolted right toward the left side wall of the alumna-tent. Chen was on top of the situation, leaping forward and grabbing for the reins. But not before the ’brid had managed to slam its front foot right through one of the velcro seals. A burst of the wet, hissing acid came pouring in on the left back corner of the tent as they all watched in horror. The ’brid let out a neigh that was deafening as its front leg was hit with a bucket full of the stuff. Chen as well took a stream along his right arm.
    But even as the storm seemed to sense the opening in the tent and came blowing in hard from around the side, hoping to take them all out, Rockson leaped forward. He managed to swing the opened section closed again, taking a few very painful drops on his own flesh. They wrestled the ’brid to the ground and Detroit whipped out his canteen, pouring water all over Chen’s arm and then the ’brid’s right leg.
    They could see the blackened flesh on the Chinese-American, as if he had just received third degree burns from wrist to elbow. The ’brid’s leg hide was actually smoking, though as they doused it with water it extinguished. The water didn’t stop the pain, but at least it washed off the dark acid and stopped it from burning any deeper.
    The ’brid made all kinds of noises but apparently it had gotten the message that heading outside wasn’t exactly the best thing to do.
    So they sat down again, Chen gritting his teeth hard against the pain. The storm went on for what seemed like an eternity. But at last, after actually what was only about fifteen minutes, the intense winds began dying down and the rain definitely lessened. Another five minutes and it had passed them, rolling off to the south, to see what destruction it could cause there. Rockson waited a few minutes as he knew the residual drops outside were just as deadly as anything that fell from the sky in the midst of the storm. Thank God the stuff evaporated quickly; too unstable to sit around for long.
    But at last he swung back the tarp siding and walked gingerly out. It was