by James Axler
“In a short while, Ryan, my friend,” Ethan answered him, using tones that would have been more suitable for speaking to a child—although in many ways this was the level to which hypnosis had reduced the companions. “Just trust in me…”
The one-eyed man didn’t answer, merely replied with a stare that was inscrutable. Ethan felt a flicker of worry. Did the gaze of that one cold, diamond-hard orb mean that Ryan was beyond understanding or that he was putting up a front and would turn at any minute?
For the first time this day, the baron felt uncomfortable. This hunt meant everything to him: the beginning of a new era in sport for the ville, and a new era of expansion, bringing in more and more jack, increasing his power base in this region, and mebbe even across the whole of the Deathlands. There was so much riding on this that he didn’t want anything to go wrong.
His fears were allayed by the reactions of Doc and Krysty as they were released. Both were itching to get to the hunt. They were agitated and expressed desires to get out there and chill.
“I say we release them one at a time, and they go for the albino as individuals rather than a group,” said the inbred baron, his soft palate distorting the words. “Makes the wager a little more interesting—and we follow our favorites, yes?”
The others enthusiastically agreed.
* * *
Chapter Eleven
“I’ve never been so glad to see a stretch of asphalt in my life,” Mildred gasped as they turned a corner and came upon a road that was long and unencumbered by any blockages.
“It will be a relief,” Michaela echoed breathlessly as she joined Mildred in setting up the light aluminum wheel supports of the stretcher gurney, allowing J.B. to touch the ground once again.
Mildred massaged her aching forearms. “Who would’ve thought it could be such a pain carrying a stretcher over a few bits of rubble.”
“A few?” Michaela grimaced. “It feels like we’ve lapped this damned city at least twice.”
“Yeah, well, you know who to blame for that,” Mildred murmured, inclining her head toward Bones, who was still walking in advance of them. She whistled and the old man stopped and looked back, peering through his thick-lensed spectacles.
“Come on, come on, we don’t have time to waste. You yourself said as much,” he called peevishly.
Mildred shook her head. “Get back here,” she yelled, waving him toward them. “We’ve got a few things we need to do before we go any farther.”
She could almost hear the old man sigh as he trotted back, and not for the first time she thought about how like Doc he could be. For a second, it crossed her mind that Dean would have found the old man amusing, just as he could find Doc a source of humor as well as affection. But she dismissed the thought almost immediately. There were more pressing concerns to be dealt with.
As soon as they had emerged from the tunnel mouth, they had been up and running, almost literally. Bones had given the all clear, and the two women had snapped the wheels on the gurney, lifting the Armorer to take his weight as they made their way into the ruined city.
The rubble at the fringe of the ruins had been built up by Ethan’s sec men to form a kind of wall that would keep anything in the city at bay. The ruins that had occupied the now cleared space between the ville walls and the area where the tunnel emerged had been piled high to form this barrier, and although it may give a sec army led by intelligent humans cover from which to mount a siege, all it did for any hostile wildlife or muties like stickies was to provide a platform they would have to scale before being silhouetted against the sky as easy targets for the blaster posts on the ville wall.
The rubble barrier formed in this way extended for about a hundred yards. It was uneven and treacherous underfoot, and as Bones sped across it, Michaela and Mildred found it difficult to keep a firm and even footing while keeping J.B.’s stretcher level. Their progress was slow, and there was an anxiety that grew within Mildred’s breast: on top of the rubble, hands occupied with the stretcher, they were easy targets for anyone that may return to the blaster emplacement before they were clear of the area. They were also easy pickings for anything that may lurk within the ruined city, waiting to attack. Teetering over the rubble they were a slow, prone target for anyone or anything.
In theory, Bones should be acting as lookout and point for them, covering them with his own blaster. But somehow, Mildred doubted if the old man would be much good. He was too far in front, and seemed absorbed in his own activity to notice what was happening behind him. It was almost as though he had rediscovered his own youth in skipping over the ruins like a child. Mildred had no wish to rob him of this. In fact, it may be useful to them as they got farther into the ruined city and were directed to the old medical labs. But she could wish that he would be a little more considerate at this stage.
She couldn’t even call out to him to get him to come back to act as point man. There was a deathly silence over the ruins and every footfall sounded loud and disruptive as they progressed in a haphazard manner over the rubble.
Mildred had cast a few glances back toward the walls of Pleasantville, and could see that the emplacements were still empty. She had tried not to think of the hunt, but the knowledge of what was occurring weighed heavily. When she had J.B. back on his feet, they would go back for their comrades. And if vengeance needed taking, then there would be no questions asked or quarter taken.
It was hard to stop to take a look back at the ville, as Michaela had always been at her heels, head down, pushing onward and muttering to herself to give her the courage to keep going. The young healer had no stomach for danger, but was pushing herself to her limits. While this was noble in one way, it did make Mildred a little anxious as to how soon it would be before the girl would snap.
They were over the rubble barrier and down onto the streets of the old city in what seemed like slow motion. But once they were there, Mildred was able to breathe easily, without the tightness of tension that had been constricting her chest. Still they had to carry the stretcher, as the old roads were strewed with rubble and debris, making it impossible to pilot the gurney and make any kind of progress. But at least the ground underfoot was surer and they were able to move more swiftly.
Bones was away from them, taking a definitive path. There was little doubt that he knew where he was headed, but Mildred was concerned that they would lose track of the old man because of his sudden spurts of speed. He was around corners before they had a chance to catch him, darting back only to hurry them on. He seemed to have no sense of caution about the terrain and its possible perils, only a desire to move quickly.
Mildred, on the other hand, had her hands full metaphorically as well as literally. There was a blanket of silence over the ruins and little indication that any muties—either human, stickie or animal—lived in the rubble. Neither were there any birds overhead, or the distant sound of birdsong. In fact, it was as though nothing were alive in the ruins; nothing wished to live here. And Mildred knew from bitter experience that this usually meant that there was danger of some sort. The wildlife of the Deathlands was hardy and adaptable, and for it to shy away from an area meant that it could sense danger with a surety few humans possessed.
Sooner or later, that danger would make itself known. And she wanted to be ready when it did. So her relief when they hit the plain old blacktop, uncluttered by debris, was powered by more than just her relief at resting her aching arm muscles.
Bones turned back and came toward them as they rested momentarily. “I thought you were in a hurry,” he snapped. “This is no time to stand around idling.”
Mildred grabbed him by his jacket as he came within range, bunching the material in her fist as she pulled him up against her. “Listen, old man,” she snarled, patience at an end, “there was an old saying—‘the more haste, the less speed’—and it’s never been more true. We’re tired, we need to get rid of the cramp and lactic acids in our muscles so that we’ll be of some use if we have to fight, a
nd I want you to stop acting like a little kid and tell me where the hell we’re going.”
She let the old man loose suddenly and he stumbled backward, looking at her with a mixture of surprise and fear, his eyes large enough without the magnification of his spectacles.
“There’s no need to be like that,” he said mildly, composing himself. “You only had to say…”
Mildred gritted her teeth. Hell, Doc Tanner was never this bad.
Michaela looked around at the remains of the buildings along the road. Most were three- or four-story blocks made of brownstone that had been ravaged by the chem storms, the shape of the building facades eaten away, glassless windows gaping emptily down at them. The ground level of each frontage had once been a store of some kind, the interiors now devoid of anything that would give clues to their previous life. The damage looked as though it had been caused by fire, and was unlike any they had seen so far. It also looked recent, which was a cause for concern.
“What d’you reckon did that?” Michaela asked nervously, indicating the storefronts.
“I don’t know, but whatever it was, it wasn’t very friendly,” Mildred mused.
“Do you know anything about this?” she asked Bones.
The old man shook his head. “Doubt if it was any of our people,” he said after some consideration. “We haven’t really used this part of the old city—nothing here that’s worth the taking. And firing the old buildings is too stupe for even the dumbest of the sec that get sent here. What if it caught and spread through the whole of the ruins? All our scavenging would be gone.”
“I was afraid you’d say that. That means that someone—or something—else is responsible for this. We’d better keep our eyes and ears open. Triple-red and stay frosty, and let’s hope we don’t have to carry John any farther. The longer we can keep him on wheels, the easier it’ll be to defend ourselves.”
“I’ll second that,” Michaela murmured, checking the blaster that Mildred had given her back in Pleasantville; it seemed a lifetime ago, although in truth it was no time at all.
Sobered by the thought that something unknown may be lurking in wait for them, Bones kept closer to Mildred and Michaela as they began to pilot J.B.’s stretcher gurney along the blacktop. In the distance, Mildred could see the skeletal remains of tower blocks and skyscrapers, like rotten teeth in a skull as they brokenly thrust their jagged shapes into the afternoon sky.
“How the hell do you manage to salvage anything from here?” she asked the old man as they progressed through the old streets. “It looks like it’s been totally destroyed by the nukecaust.”
Bones allowed himself a small, indulgent smile. “You’d think that, wouldn’t you, to look at it,” he said. “But a lot of the damage was either on the taller buildings or on the area surrounding when bits of them started to fall. This city developed in a little more of a haphazard pattern than others in the old States.” His smile grew broader as he noted Mildred’s look of astonishment. “Oh, yeah, I know what this land used to be like. You didn’t really get to see the vast amount of material I’ve amassed. You and your friends wouldn’t recognize it. It must have been good to be alive in those times,” he continued, little realizing how much Mildred would agree with him. “And I sometimes wish…But no, I must stick to the point. There were older areas of this city where the buildings had not yet been torn down and replaced with the tall ones like those.” He indicated the ghostly skyscrapers with a gesture that was almost dismissive. “Buildings that were more attractive and must have been nicer to live in…but no matter. The point is that these smaller areas suffered less damage, and it’s from them that the most amount of material has been saved.”
“How did it survive?” Mildred pressed. “I’ve seen old cities with lower level developments that haven’t yielded so much.”
Bones shrugged. “Some of it is chance, and we shall never know. Some of it is because places like the old hospitals we’re headed for were designed to withstand a nukecaust. They were low level, but reinforced, with basement levels that were almost miraculously untouched. And they have an unconventional power source.”
Mildred pondered this. She couldn’t work out the name of the old city they were in, as she wasn’t sure of their exact location. Without a map, and knowing how the years of nuclear winter had changed the coastline, it was almost impossible. But out in the northwest, they were less likely to get a direct nuke hit, and perhaps it was possible that such areas would be developed as fall-back and support areas in the case of war. It was just a shame that no one had truly thought through the consequences of a nuclear winter.
She looked around at the devastation, made all the more stark by the silence in which it was shrouded. A shiver passed over her, as though someone were walking across her already dug and filled grave.
“Let’s get to it,” she said brusquely. “We don’t have the time to be standing around here talking like a lot of fools.”
Taking their lead from Bones, who set off at a more reasonable speed after observing how they had to steer the gurney around the rubble, Mildred and Michaela pulled the Armorer along the old blacktop.
The old man took the streets as though he had been walking them all his life, which, in a sense, he had, as he had been exploring the ruins on and off from a very young age. His eyesight may not be as good as it once had been, but he still knew every twist and turn of the old city, and seemed to go almost onto an automatic pilot as he negotiated the ruins.
Mildred watched the surrounding wreckage as they progressed from the area of old brownstones to a development of squat, gray concrete blocks that looked scorched but otherwise untouched by the ravages of the years. Here, there was more rubble strewed across the sidewalks and roadway, and she and Michaela had to lift the stretcher to negotiate some parts of the thoroughfare. Each time they lifted the gurney, and were unable to lay hands on their weapons in a split second, Mildred felt ill at ease, and was relieved when they were able to put J.B. back down on the deck. There was something about the silence in the ruins that was ominous. All other ruins she had visited with the companions had been colonized, either by man or by wildlife of some kind. Why was this different?
But there wasn’t much time to dwell on this as they moved out of the low-level buildings and into the central section, which consisted of the old tower blocks and skyscrapers. Here, the wreckage was strewed all over the streets, made worse by the passage of time, and it was so dense that they had to carry J.B. all the way.
“Hey, Bones,” she snapped at the old man. “Do we have to go this way? Can’t we skirt around this section?”
The old man stopped and looked back at her, a mild bemusement coloring his features. “But I thought you wanted to get there quickly?” he asked mildly. “The center of the old city is quite large, y’know. If we went around the edges, it would take more time than we have—or, at least, than you think we have…”
Mildred cursed to herself. The old man was right. If cutting across this central section saved time, that had been the imperative she had pushing home. But all the same, a creeping terror was inching its way up her spine. She was unaware of how long she had paused, until he continued.
“Look, what’s the problem? There’s nothing here to harm us. It’s empty, for fuck’s sake!” He threw his arms wide, as if to demonstrate. For a second, she almost expected some eldritch terror to rise up behind him, like out of some barely remembered horror movie in her previous life. But he just stood there, framed against the shell of an old skyscraper, surrounded by silence.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Let’s get going. Time is of the essence, after all, and I’m just…I don’t know, just being bugged by the silence. Not used to it, I guess,” she added as she picked up the gurney once more and followed the old man.
“Mildred, I’m getting worried about him,” Michaela murmured to her as they followed Bones.
“No, he’s okay, just a cranky old man,” Mildred remarked over her shoulder.
To her sudden surprise, Mildred realized that she had been so preoccupied with the silence around her that she hadn’t noticed that John was now contributing to it. She cast a glance over her shoulder. The Armorer was lying still and silent on the stretcher, his lips parted as he breathed easily, a waxy sheen on his skin.
There was nothing she could do out here, no point in stopping. They could only carry on and hope for the best.
“Hey, I recognize this,” Michaela piped up suddenly. “Yeah, I’ve been through this. We’re nearly there, Mildred.”
Mildred felt a sigh of relief well up within her. They had passed through the ruined center of the old city and were leaving the majority of old towers and skyscrapers behind them. They were now entering a neighborhood of blown- and burned-out old concrete low-levels, like the ones they had previously seen. Incongruously, in the middle of it all, an old burger bar, the golden arch still miraculously standing, though the metal was twisted and the yellow plastic scorched and melted from yellow to sienna to black in places. It stood at an almost jaunty angle, as though beckoning them.
“Yeah, I know that thing,” Michaela yelled. “We’re nearly there.”
Ahead of them, Bones turned and grinned. It was satisfaction for a job well done. “Told you, didn’t I?” he crowed. “Got you here, and pretty damn triple fast, at that. The hospitals are over there,” he added, throwing out his left arm to indicate a series of concrete three-story buildings to Mildred’s right.
What happened next seemed to take place in slow motion. It was incongruous, unexpected…and deadly.
As Mildred watched in sheer astonishment, a dark shape circled silently in the sky, moving from their rear until it was behind Bones, and moving in and down toward him. It was huge, with a wingspan of at least twenty feet and a squat, potbellied body, and enormous beady eyes that seemed to bore into them from a distance. It was covered with fur, the wings made of a membranous leathery substance rather than skin and feathers.
