David L. Robbins - Endworld 16 - Miami Run.pdf

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Miami Run
#16 in the Endworld series
David Robbins
Dedicated to…
Judy & Joshua & Shane. To Bobbi at City News,
for kindness above and beyond the call of duty.
To the legacy of Vincent Van Gogh, Colonel P.H. Fawcett,
and Korak the Killer.
We both found ours, eventually.
A LEISURE BOOK July 1989 Published by
Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc. 276 Fifth Avenue New York, NY
Copyright© 1989 by
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or
transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means,
including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and
retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except
where permitted by law.
The name "Leisure Books" and the stylized "LB" with design are
trademarks of Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
Printed in the United States of America.
 
Prologue
The night was perfect for a sacrifice.
A brilliant full moon illuminated the Everglades as the party of 13 robed
figures and the woman in the blue dress threaded a path toward the grove
on the island 50 yards ahead. A cool, moist breeze stirred the red robes of
the 13 and caused the woman to shiver. Her fearful green eyes locked on
the island and she stumbled.
The scarlet-robed figure to her rear stepped in close and gripped her
left arm to prevent her from falling.
She regained her balance, but she recoiled defiantly at his touch,
jerking her arms from his grasp. Her wrists were already hurting from the
tight coils of rope binding them behind her back. "Don't touch me!" she
snapped.
"We wouldn't want you to fall," the figure responded, his features
enshrouded in the hood of his robe.
"I didn't know you cared!" she stated sarcastically.
"We care, Carmen," the figure said. "We care about keeping you clean
for the Masters."
"Stuff the Masters!"
The red-robed figure sighed. "Such a childish attitude will only make it
worse."
"What could be worse than dying?" Carmen retorted.
"You have no one to blame but yourself," the figure noted. "You
deliberately violated the Precepts of Dealership. The consequences are
inevitable."
Carmen glanced at the grove of trees and began chewing nervously on
 
her lower lip as they moved nearer.
"You always were too smart for your own good," the figure commented.
"You thought you were better than everybody else."
"I was," Carmen replied. "I was the best damn Dealer in the Dragons,
and you know it!"
"Your distribution network was superbly organized," the figure
conceded. "And your enforcement procedures were carried out to the
letter. You had everything worth living for. Wealth. Power. Prestige. And
you blew it."
"I was framed!" Carmen declared.
"You were stupid," the figure responded. "You weren't satisfied. How
did you expect to get away with cutting your own deal? Did you really
think the Masters wouldn't learn about your deception? The Masters know
everything."
Carmen snorted. "They don't know crap!"
"They know you were cheating them," the figure said. "They know you
were diluting the Powder of Life, then selling the watered-down bags at
full market value. You were skimming some of the Powder to sell on the
side and make yourself richer." He paused. "You were greedy."
"Lies! It's all a bunch of lies!" Carmen insisted.
"Please," the man said. "Don't insult my intelligence. Your hearing was
fair and square. The evidence against you was overwhelming."
"What evidence?" Carmen retorted. "You took the word of a low-life
junkie over mine!"
"Four complaints were lodged against you," the figure mentioned.
"Three were from middle-echelon distributors. Only one was from a street
junkie."
"That damn Harlan!" Carmen muttered.
"Harlan did the right thing. He knew he wasn't getting his money's
worth, and every customer is granted the right to petition the Directors
 
for a hearing."
"I was framed!" Carmen repeated.
"Suit yourself," the figure said. "But the thirteen of us listened to all of
the evidence and rendered the only possible verdict. The Masters had
advised us to keep—"
"They what?" Carmen interrupted.
"The Masters knew of your deception before Harlan and the others
brought their formal complaints," he detailed. "The Directors were
advised to keep an eye on your activities."
"You were?" Carmen asked in disbelief.
"We were," the robed man confirmed.
"But how?" Carmen queried.
"The Masters have their ways," he replied.
Carmen looked to the right and the left, gauging her chances of
escaping. They were nil. The path to the island was the only solid strip of
ground for hundreds of yards, surrounded by the mucky, peat-filled,
treacherous soil of the Everglades submerged under a foot or more of
water.
"Don't even think about it," the man advised, as if he could read her
mind.
The party reached the eastern edge of the island and started up a slight
incline. Wax myrtles and willows lined the path.
Carmen gazed toward the top of the rise. "I thought we were friends,
Arlo," she commented.
"That's a cheap shot," Arlo said.
"You can get me off the hook with the Masters," Carmen stated. "They'd
listen to you."
"Be serious."
 
Carmen licked her lips. "I am. Talk to them for me. Intercede in my
behalf."
"I can't, and you know it."
"Please!"
"Don't beg," Arlo said. "It doesn't become you."
They climbed steadily higher.
"Tell them I'll straighten up my act," Carmen said. "Tell them I'll turn
over a new leaf."
"Are you finally admitting your guilt?" Arlo questioned.
Carmen's slim shoulders slumped and she expelled the breath in her
lungs. "All right," she declared. "I admit it. I wasn't framed."
"Surprise, surprise," Arlo said dryly.
"What if I make a full confession?"
"It wouldn't do any good," Arlo told her. "The execution verdict is
final."
"I can always try," Carmen said.
"I expected better from you."
Carmen glanced over her left shoulder. All she could see was the tip of
Arlo's angular chin and his nose protruding from his hood. "What else can
I do? What would you do if you were in my shoes?"
"I would never allow my ego to supplant my better judgment," Arlo
remarked.
"I don't want to die!" Carmen declared bluntly.
"Who does?"
Carmen faced the path, a feeling of utter helplessness welling up within
her. Her resolve faltered and her courage flagged. A sensation of weakness
 

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