— 15 —
This is no time to be stingy with the ammo, Nelson told himself as he let rip a full auto burst from the M‑16.
The bandits' horses screamed in terror as bullets tore into them and their riders. The burst cut one man in half. Another's horse took its last two steps stone dead before falling over and crushing its rider.
Still, the arrows sang over Nelson's head. Continuing to fire, he wheeled his horse to present a narrower target to the bowmen. After his second burst he retreated at top speed, firing behind him. As the last of the bandits closed, he wheeled again and let loose yet another burst.
The bandits didn't lack courage, but they had no concept of how to fight this star weapon that could kill two, three, or four men in less than a second. That lack of knowledge proved fatal. Nelson counted eight bodies when the fighting ended; nine, with Critos. That meant there were only the women and children left from Critos' band.
Nelson collected his mule, reloaded the M‑16, and headed back toward the path. He avoided the bandit's camp. He knew that if he entered it, he'd feel pity for the women and children. He couldn't afford pity. He needed rest and safety. The last thing he needed was a dirk in the back from a seven-year-old kid.
By the time the True Sun and the Fire Stealer had both set, Nelson was back on the path and had put another six kilometers between himself and the bandit camp. He halted for the night, set his usual boobytraps and alarms, and stretched out to sleep, cradling his M‑16.
He fell asleep thinking about the bandits' children and wondering if he was so very different from Parsons and Gengrich after all.
Go to section 12.