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Father； we send you our friend Run Dutil； a good and true American。 If you can see to do it； please wele him into your arms。 Amen。〃
They all chanted an amen in unison； and then went back and spread out their maps； and pared them to the notes from Run Dutil's little pad。 Rockson drew some pencil marks on the maps； using the meager angles and sun…elevation heights that Dutil had jotted down。 He drew estimated margin…of…error lines too … dotted lines that were as much as ten miles to one side or the other of their new route。 Then they were off on their quest for Eden。
The dogs were howling and yapping； apparently happy to be on the trail again。 They didn't like the President's museum much； it seemed。
Taking the bearing to the southeast that Dutil's notes indicated； they moved their sleds along at a good thirty miles per hour through icy weather conditions。 Soon they were approaching the old border of Colorado into Arizona。 But there was no letup in the cold temperatures； or in the golfball…sized hailstones pounding the hunched…down travelers。
CHAPTER 8
They headed southward； guided by Run Dutil's notes in the little pad。 Hopefully； they would find the next landmark on the route to Eden； the giant teepee that Danik bad described。
Rockson needed every bit of his famed 〃mutant's luck〃 if they were to reach the obscure site。 The bearing was vague； as Dutil had measured direction with a sextant that was little more than a toy。
They came upon an area 235 miles south of Colorado Springs Plain that Rockson himself had crossed years earlier。 It was the area around a small hunter…trapper munity called Moosehead。 Moosehead Township was a set of ten or twelve wooden shacks and a tanning shed for hides。 The Soviets usually ignored these primitive American munities； which served their purposes because their manding officers did a brisk trade with the mountainmen who did fur trapping。 Hides and furs were exchanged for rubles。 The rubles bought the trapper families some precious supplies like salt in the small free markets in the shadows of the great Soviet forts further east。
But someone hadn't left Moosehead alone。 When the Freefighters and their Edenite friend came within sight of the town； they started to see signs of destruction。 Scattered along the red…stained snows were the bones of several animals … horse bones； dog bones； and what looked like a picked…clean small human arm bone。
〃Wolves？〃 Rockson asked Detroit； pointing to the paw tracks all around the bones。
〃The wolves ate the meat；〃 said Detroit； 〃but see the bullet hole in this human femur？〃
〃Reds；〃 Rona said； and drew her shotpistol。
Detroit nodded。 〃Probably。 The animals came later … drawn by the blood。〃
〃Let's get up on that hill and scan the area；〃 Rock ordered。 〃Keep your weapons at the ready。〃
From the rise Rock could see that the shack…town beyond was a charred ruin。 There were many bodies； some reduced to skeletons； wearing pieces of cloth the wolves didn't like the taste of。 There were crates also； some six or seven feet wide。 Putting down his binocs； Rock said。 〃The town was probably hit with artillery； and then mopped up by a squad of mandos。〃 He swept the area again with his electron binoculars。 〃The fires are out； whatever happened occurred at least a day ago。 Let's go down and see if we can find out why they hit it； and look for survivors。〃
Scheransky volunteered； 〃Maybe I should keep the sleds here； in case there's land mines； they're a bit hard to steer in exact situations。 I can cover for you here； with my Dragunov sniper rifle； pick off anyone that es near the town。〃
〃Okay；〃 Rock said。 〃You stay with the dog sleds。 The rest of us go down and look around。〃
Scheransky slid the sniper rifle out of his sled's blankets and covered them； peering around the countryside far and wide through the telescopic sight。 Then he left the rifle sitting on top of the blankets of his sled。 He unzipped his parka。 Crouching behind the sled he took out a small black box。 It had lots of buttons on it。 He pressed one。 The box sprung to life with a dozen blinking lights。 He seated it in the snow； and then pulled a whip antenna up to a height of three feet。
He left the device to do its secret work； then peered over the sled to make sure no one had turned back for some reason。 The others must not know。
This was only the third time he'd had the opportunity to set up the device。 If only they would leave him alone more； he could acplish his job。
Rockson and his group skiied sullenly into the pathetic settlement's ruins。 There were not only the bodies of adults； but children's half…eaten corpses too。 And one little girl's frozen nude body had deep gashes in her pelvic area。 She was hanging by the neck from a pole； swaying in the cold wind。 Her anguished blank blue eyes stared at him as if pleading for …
〃McCaughlin； cut her down and bury her under some rocks；〃 he ordered。
〃Bastards；〃 McCaughlin muttered as he worked。 〃Murdering bastards。〃
There were more bodies … ravaged women； men with missing testes； atrocities of all descriptions throughout the town。 And lots of tracks of wolves。
But what attracted the Doomsday Warrior's attention most was the booted footprints of men。 Soviet murderers' bootprints。
〃What could they have done this for？〃 Danik asked softly of Detroit； who walked alongside； surveying the disaster site。 〃What did they want of these poor people？〃
Rock had no reply。
The tanning shack was partly standing。 The team headed that way。 Rock told Danik to stand guard outside the shack。 He put a shotpistol into his thin long hand。 〃Better get used to holding this baby。〃
Entering the shack with Liberator rifles set on full auto； just in case； the search team found a man。 He was trussed up by a rope on the one unfallen central wood beam。 He was still alive； and he moaned when he saw them。
The survivor was not a pretty sight。 Rock instinctively shielded Rona's eyes； then withdrew his hand。 Who was he kidding？ The woman had been in the middle of the worst action a dozen times。 She had seen as bad； and worse。
The man had one eye half pulled from its bloody socket； his lips were cracked and blue from the cold。 He wore a torn fur parka lanced with a hundred bloody holes…perhaps the short jabs of a Soviet cavalry bayonet； sunk deep enough to make the man talk and talk。 Torture。 His one good eye tracked Rock as he approached。
〃I don't know；〃 the agonized man pleaded。 〃Please； kill me； don't hurt me anymore。〃
〃No one's gonna hurt you；〃 the Doomsday Warrior said softly。 He gave the man a drink from his canteen。
He was about to cut him down； when he saw that the man was just a torn mass inside his clothing。 The guts of the man had been pulled out of a hole in his stomach。 Slippery coils of intestines pulsed with pain。 To move him 。 。 。
〃The Reds did this？〃
The man nodded slightly。 〃They … they wanted information on … on … some modern…dressed stranger they picked up on their instruments。 They said they knew he was near here。 One of their automatic overflight drones … Midnight Marauders … detected him。 That was about … few days ago。。。 Thought he might be a Free … Freefighter； 'cause he was dr