Free Resistance by William C. Dietz Page B

functional once more Hale bent to retrieve his knife. There was a certain amount of suction, but having secured a good grip on the handle, he managedto jerk the weapon free. After cleaning the blade, and returning the weapon to its sheath, he reloaded the Fareye and slung both it and the pack over his good shoulder.
    That accomplished, and with the shotgun at the ready, Hale went hunting.
    The third stink wasn't hard to find. Having made his way down onto the bridge deck, he picked up the Auger he had seen earlier. Then all Hale had to do was follow a trail through the blood-tinged slush to the north side of the span, where the badly injured Chimera was still dragging itself away. The ′brid snarled and snapped its teeth, but having left its weapon behind, there wasn't anything it could do as Hale fired half a clip of Auger rounds into the alien.
    The body jerked convulsively as the projectiles passed through both it
and
the bridge deck to splash into the river below.
    The weapon was too heavy to carry given the combined weight of his other armament, so Hale dropped it into the river, and followed the well-churned road north. Unlike the pristine whiteness of the prairie, this was a dangerous way to go, since a group of Chimera could come barreling down the road at any moment, yet there was a method to Hale's madness.
    Even a Native American tracker would have found it difficult to pick his bootprints out of the muck that covered the road and Hale doubted that any of the Chimera possessed such skills. Plus, with solid cement only four or five inches under the slush, he could move faster.
    And, as Hale topped a rise and followed the highway down to the point where it crossed a streambed, he had the opportunity to get off the road without leaving tracks. Which he proceeded to do.
    Once in the half-frozen stream, Hale followed it west.Twenty minutes later he was within the borders of the Rocking F Ranch. But the light had started to fade, and by now the bodies of the Hybrids would have been found. If a massive search wasn't already underway, it soon would be.
    Which was why Hale forced himself to maintain a brisk pace until he spotted a four-foot-tall pine tree that lay within reach of the streambed. It took a moment to wrestle the tree out of the frozen soil and fill the hole with snow, but two minutes later Hale had what amounted to a broom.
    With the tree in one hand and the shotgun in the other, he followed the creek uphill to the point where he could see the rocky hill that he and his family called Prospector's Knob, named after the rusty tools his father had found there.
    Backing out of the stream, he used the tree to obliterate his tracks, and worked his way up to the point where the windswept hillside was clear of all but a thin dusting of snow. At that point it was safe to toss the tree in a ravine and continue on until he arrived at what a ten-year-old version of himself had called the Fort. A collection of car-sized rocks that had been the scene of many an imaginary battle, and still stood guard over a boyhood secret. One which, if it remained intact, might save Hale's life.
    He entered the small clearing behind a screen of snow-frosted rocks and immediately made his way over to the base of the hill. Many years had passed since the slab of rock had been put into place, but it was still there. Having placed his pack and the Fareye off to the side, Hale lifted the slab out of the way.
    That produced a jab of pain as he got down on hands and knees. A combination of dirt and loose gravel had filtered into the cavity from both sides, but once hescooped the material away, a small opening was revealed. Hale's boyhood dog had discovered the hole and immediately scuttled in, forcing the youngster to follow. He was pretty sure he could still fit through the aperture, and was determined to give it a try.
    Grabbing his pack, Hale shoved it into the cave, followed by the snowshoes and his weapons. He used the ski poles to push