/* /*]] */ Axler, James - Deathlands 22 - Rider, Reaper The Navaho leaned down and peered into the darkness inside the wag

 

"Tell him to watch out," J.B. called. "Could be grens or anything in there."

 

But the warrior was already climbing down, feeling with his feet on the steel ladder. "Tell my brothers I count the first coup," he said. Now only his head and shoulders were visible. "This is a good day to"

 

With a startling violence, the young man disappeared, cut off in midsentence.

 

"Fireblast!" Ryan cocked the SIG-Sauer and stared into the dark interior of the war wag, helpless to do anything to save the young Navaho from what had seized him.

 

Out of the stillness, floating up, to the listeners, came a bubbling laugh, gentle and loathsome.

 

"Nice trick, you 'pache butcher. Suck on this."

 

They heard a cry of pain and two bodies struggling with each otherthen the voice of the warrior, sounding thin and strained. "He's got a gren. Pin pulled!"

 

Ryan was stranded, literally sitting on top of the bomb. He kicked out at the open hatch, watching it fall in almost slow motion, and rolled backward into a clumsy somersault. When he landed on the ground, the breath was driven from his body.

 

Life was suddenly measured in tiny splinters of time.