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/* /*]] */ Axler,_James_-_DeathLands_9_Red_Equinox The door to the hut burst open, sending Ryan tumbling across the floor
A shaft of light pierced the gloom as the door flew off its hinges, but the pale rectangle was swiftly blotted out.
The man who filled the doorway stood at least eight feet tall. He’d stooped to enter the hut, and his head now scraped the rafters. His rad-ruined face showed all the intelligence of a fencepost and all the friendliness of a cornered rattlesnake.
The mutie bared his teeth, flexed his hands and reached toward the invaders of his squalid domain. He roared, and the sound was accompanied by billowing waves of stinking breath that made Ryan wince.
“Mine!” Jak shrilled, recovering his balance and launching himself at the human monolith.
The mutie never moved. Feet planted wide apart, he swatted the boy away from him as if he were merely an importunate gnat.
Ryan snarled his rage and squeezed the trigger of his P-226. The baffle silencer did its stuff. There was a muffled sound, and a thin trace of smoke trickled from the barrel.
When the Russian didn’t even rock on his heels, Ryan felt the first tremor of unease….
