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couldn't get their weapons back from the workers by force, as they were
unarmed and outnumbered, and just mebbe there would be something of use to
them in Salvation. Baron Silas Hunter sounded as though he could be
interesting.
"Tell you what," the one-eyed warrior said eventually, "you take us to
Salvation when we finish this job and give us back our weapons, and we'll
gladly work our way. Hard work is no problem, but that desert is a bastard."
Crow nodded. "I figured you'd see it that way."
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Chapter Six
The work party rose with the sun, and at first light the next morning they
began to stir under the covers that protected them from both the sun and the
chilling night. Crow was one of the first to awake, as though snapped awake by
the first glimmerings of the day.
The giant rose to his feet and looked at the sprawled figures around, huddled
under blankets or coats. He noted that Krysty and Ryan were sleeping close
together, and likewise J.B. and Mildred. He then glanced over his still
slumbering workers and remembered the comments of the night before.
Although it didn't show on his impassive visage, he figured that he would have
to watch closely for any trouble, as it was almost certain to arise.
The foreman began to stir his workforce awake, and after he was sure they were
rising for the day's work, he turned to the companions.
"I see you're already awake," he said generally, as they were all rising.
"My dear sir, although you are as silent as a spirit walking, the combined
noise of any amount of people within such an enclosed space would make further
slumber an impossibility."
"Don't mind Doc," Dean added, "he never likes to use one word where a hundred
could be."
The Native American allowed himself the flicker of a smile. "Betrays a good
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brain," he said. "I just hope he can work as well as he can talk."
"Despite my apparent age, I shall not be found wanting," Doc uttered.
The foreman nodded. "Okay, eat, take some water and join the others outside.
You have twenty minutes," he added.
Playing it the way it felt, the companions allowed the workmen to wash
themselves down and freshen up before taking their morning meal. It meant
hanging around and taking the stares directed at the women, but in their
current position it was best to play possum.
"Hey, you think those gaudies gonna get their skin on show when they work?"
Hal asked Emerson.
Emerson, whose dark hair was tied back in a ponytail, and whose beard was
flecked with gray, studied Mildred and Krysty through hooded eyes.
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"Hell, I hope so," he drawled. "Them bein' two colors'll make it look real
nice."
He directed his next comment to the men in Ryan's party. "Hey, I bet you boys
have some fun, there."
Jak's red eyes pierced through the heavily set workman. "More fun in chilling
scum," he said quietly.
The albino teenager was nearly a full foot smaller than the workman, was
unarmed and was slight in build compared to the burly Emerson. But still,
there was something cold and diamond hard about the youth that made the
workman
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look away without saying anything further.
An uneasy silence hung over the room after the workforce had finished and
walked out into the sunlight, leaving the companions alone.
"This isn't going to be easy," Ryan said slowly. "Not easy at all."
WITH THE ROOF NOW securely in place, and the newly finished two-story
blockhouse in place, the remaining task was to build the extension onto the
existing structure. The new wag stop would then have storage space for fuel,
food and water, as well as accommodation for a regular attendant and a few
travelers.
The foundation for the extension had been completed, and the task in front of
the workforce and the companions was to construct the one-story building and
insulate the interior walls of the storage space, in order that any fire in
the interior could be contained, and an exterior fire wouldn't be able to
penetrate the walls and ignite the fuel stores.
Wags from Salvation had carried out the building materials needed a salvaged
amalgam of brick, cinder block, sheets of metal and some sand and cement that
could be mixed with some of the precious water in order to meld the whole
together. The insulating materials were salvaged from old buildings, and were
carefully wrapped to prevent the asbestos in the mix from spreading dust into
the air.
Crow directed the companions to their tasks. Ryan and J.B. were to help lay
the cinder block outer walls, while Dean, Jak and Doc were to assist in the
building of the interior walls and the installation of the insulation. Mildred
and Krysty
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were spared the heavier work, and were to mix the concrete. When J.B. asked
how Baron Silas Hunter had amassed an amount of something that was simply no
longer made, Crow informed him that one of the villes that were investing in
the baron's scheme had an old cement works within its boundaries, and the
supplies for all the wag stops on the route had been plundered from those bags
that hadn't been split or had leaked over the past century, and had so gone
hard.
"It was tight, but I reckon as how we've got enough," the foreman said
thoughtfully.
"You're an expert?" J.B. asked.
"I make sure I know what's going on if I'm to do my job properly," Crow
replied.
"I went to the works to assess what there was, and checked up in some old
predark building manuals that Baron Silas had acquired.
"He's a thorough man," Crow added simply, but heavy with a hidden threat.
The Native American's putting Mildred and Krysty onto the concrete mixing
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wasn't a gesture toward their sex, but rather a shrewd move, which Ryan
appreciated, to forestall the need for them to shed too many clothes through
exertion in the heat.
If they stayed fully clothed and away from the main body of the workers, then
there would be less chance of conflict between Ryan's people and Crow's
workforce. But it wasn't to be that easy.
"SAY, BOY, have you learned what it's like to be a man yet?" Rysh asked Dean
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