Hell's Legionnaire by L. Ron Hubbard Page B

miles.
Montrey looked on, sullenly.
    â€œHow are we going to
get out?” he muttered. His wounded hand had sobered him.
    â€œFollow me,” I
ordered.
    From the rear of the
mosque came a medley of yells. They had discovered that I was not at the top of
those steps, and they were coming up.
    Montrey and I stopped
by the front pillars. I hurriedly gathered up the rifles. I extracted the bolt
from the machine gun and then demolished the working parts with a smash against
the stone.
    Ivan’s dead eyes
seemed to follow us as we plunged down the steps toward the bridge.
    Gian no longer had
eyes. A Lebel bullet fired by his own hand had finished him.
    But we had no time to
worry about dead men. Very live men rose up before us like ifrïts .
Guns started up. Slugs whined about us like angry wasps.
    Heads down, burdened
by excess rifles, we ran toward the bridge.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    The River of Death
    W E made the bridge
because we ran too fast and changed our course too often to make good targets.
    I dropped the rifles
to the deck of the nearest barge and then followed them over the edge. Montrey
landed behind me like a cat.
    Casting off the rough
hempen line, we shoved the scow out into the swift stream which bisected the
town. That done, I snatched up an auto-rifle and fed the last clip into the
breech.
    The men who had
assembled on the bridge over our heads hastily drew back under the hail of
bullets. The snipers along the river banks shrieked and dived for shelter. The
stream carried us swiftly toward the aperture which let the river flow on
through the valley to the steep gorge at the far end.
    Then I heard the
clatter of horses’ hoofs far away. Mounting their barbs, Allah’s children were
making certain that they would reach the gorge before we did. I wondered why we
should not be able to slip on through the gorge. I found out soon enough.
    Montrey, thinking that
the danger was passed, turned on me. “I suppose you think I’m going to let
you—”
    I lowered my rifle.
    â€œYou’re staying with
me, Montrey, until I don’t need you any longer.”
    â€œGot an idea that you
can take me into Legion headquarters or something like that?”
    â€œShut up and lay on with
that pole. We’ve got to get to the gorge before those horsemen. Otherwise,
we’re liable to be out of luck.”
    That brought him back
to momentary truce. He snatched up the pole and plied it with a will. The arch
in the west wall of the town passed swiftly over our heads. When we were out on
the plain, floating swiftly along, the horsemen rounded the near wall and
thundered along the bank toward us.
    I leveled the
auto-rifle and fired three bursts, emptying several saddles. I discovered once
and for all, as I started to fire again, that the auto-rifles were useless. We
were out of everything but rifle bullets.
    Without ceremony I
dumped the three Chauchats into the river and followed them up with all the
Lebels but two. At least they would never fall into Berber hands.
    The plain whisked by.
Ahead I heard the mutter of falling water. I knew then why they seemed so
certain of catching up with us. That gorge was filled with rapids, perhaps
falls, as are most river gorges. I knew that we didn’t have a chance. No more
rapid-firing guns—only two Lebels and a questionable supply of ammunition for
those. The auto-rifles and the machine gun were what had kept us from
annihilation thus far.
    Just before we reached
the gorge, I headed the scow into the bank. We jumped out and let the barge
float on.
    Running again, I saw a
footpath that seemed to travel along the riverside.
    Montrey slacked up.
    â€œWhat’s the use?” he
cried. “We haven’t anything with which to defend ourselves. They’ll hunt us
down no matter how far away we travel!”
    I did not answer him.
I was too busy working in the cliff side. From a short distance away came the
pounding of hoofs, as ominous as distant