SUMMARY

Once again, Miller’s chase takes him into the dark heart of the Slicks. Grey City, the last monolith on a ruined Earth. Leather Skins, Skin Bags, Web Heads, and Radleps. All under the same roof, all after the same thing.

There’s the hard way, then there’s the cruel way.

EXCERPT

The High Counsel wore a business suit, polished dress boots, and no tie. Without uttering a greeting, he pulled out the chair opposite Miller and took a seat. Stretching out his legs, he clasped his fingers behind his head and stared at the bounty hunter.

“I can’t speak for Treadlow, but I’m done with this,” Miller said. “We brought you Magnus.”

An incredulous smile broke across Starling’s face. His crows’ feet deepened and fanned out from the corners of his squinting eyes. He laughed. “You brought me a corpse,” he said. “Big difference. I needed the Skin Bag alive. You knew that. It was all about the bomb. It was the crux of the deal. Now that the mutant is DOA, you’re going to have to go get the goddamned thing.”

“The Screamer is inop,” Miller said, nodding toward the airplane. Horn was kneeling on top of one of the wings, staring in their direction. “It’s missing an engine, in case you didn’t notice.”

“I’m going to have a transport helicopter here in about an hour. You and your tracker are going to head down south and finish the job you fucked up,” Starling said. “You two have combat experience with the Skin Bags. The team going in with you has only seen images of the freaks.”

“Going in? Where?” Miller asked.

“The Slicks,” Starling said. “You’ve been in the Slicks. Your tracker has been in the Slicks.”

Miller stared at the High Counsel. The Slicks. For a moment his mind locked. Miller flashed back and felt the skin on his arms go cold and pucker. The Slicks swallowed humans and made them walk a tightrope over a bottomless well of insanity. The Tango Factor turned every trip into the place, into just that, a trip. The Slicks was the last place on Earth the bounty hunter wanted to revisit, and he told Starling as much.

“I’d rather go to Hell.”

Starling laughed sardonically. “All of us are going to Hell, Mr. Miller,” he said. “We may already be there. You ever think of that? This may be Hell.”

“Could be,” Miller said, shaking thoughts of the Slicks out of his head. “But get another hired gun to lead your team into the place. Any dump along the border will have guys holding up signs offering their services.”

“That’s not going to work,” Starling said calmly. “This job is too important. The Skin Bags you need to track down have the bomb. You’re the only one I know with the experience and motivation to get the thing out before the mutants do something stupid, like detonate it.”

Miller was momentarily confused. “The weapon is in the Slicks?” he asked.

“Jesus Christ,” Starling said. “You don’t think I’d sponsor an NSG armed incursion into the Slicks just to chase down a couple of Skin Bags, do you?” The High Counsel leaned forward in his chair, clasped his hands together, and lowered his voice. “Concentrate on what I’m saying. This whole bowl of fuck you’ve been stirring was supposed to keep that goddamned bomb out of the Slicks. The two freaks taking the fucking thing in there, probably as we speak, are Magnus’ lieutenants. The Skin Bag’s last orders were to transport the weapon into the Slicks and blow it. Why do you think I was so adamant about bringing Magnus in alive? Think about it.”

Starling took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. He turned his head and stared toward the door of the hangar for several seconds. Directing his attention back to the bounty hunter, he said, “Haven’t you figured out what will happen if they detonate a thermonuclear device in the Slicks?”

“No,” Miller answered honestly. “I had no reason to. You gave us the impression their target for the weapon was Atlanta.”

“Jesus,” Starling said, shaking his head. “You fucking mutant hunters have minds like vacuums. I thought you were at least smarter than Frakes, but I guess I was wrong.”