Perception Fault

by James Axler

  Ryan’s enemy tried to grab him again, but he sat up out of the guy’s reach and turned, swinging the heavy panga at the man’s head as he did so. The warrior threw up his right arm to block the blow, and the thick blade chopped into his forearm, breaking both bones with an audible crack that Ryan felt through the knife’s handle.

  The serious wound didn’t stop the warrior in the least. Instead, he pushed off the ground with his good arm and came at Ryan again, his teeth bared and spittle flying from his mouth. Ryan brought the panga around again, this time in a savage chop to his enemy’s throat. The keen edge sank in, cutting through skin, muscle and the major blood vessels. He pulled the blade down and out, slicing through even more flesh, so deep he felt the metal grate against the bones of the spine.

  The man halted in his tracks, his outstretched hand falling to his side as the knife nearly cut off his head. When Ryan finished pulling the blade out, a huge gush of blood followed, splattering on the dusty floor. The Native American put his uninjured hand to the gaping slash, but his eyes rolled back in his head even as he fell to one knee, then onto his side, the fountain of blood already subsiding.

  Glancing over at J.B., Ryan saw the smaller, wiry man standing over the body of his fallen enemy, wiping blood off his knife, still watching the other tunnel entrances. His eyes suddenly widening, he flipped the knife end-over-end to throw.

  Ryan hurled his panga in the general direction the Armorer was staring at as he dived for his Sig Sauer. Even as he hit the dirt, his fingers closed around the blaster’s grip, a part of his mind screamed that it was probably already too late, but he figured he’d rather die with a blaster in his hand than with nothing.

  Raising the dusty Sig Sauer, he saw another of the squat Native Americans, this one armed with an ancient-looking AK-47, aiming directly at his face, his finger about to squeeze the trigger.

  Chapter Twenty

  Realizing he was a heartbeat away from dying, Ryan lined up his blaster’s sights on the man’s chest and squeezed the trigger, knowing he’d at least be able to take the fucker who’d chilled him along on the last train to the coast.

  As he fired, the man spasmed and arched his back, raising his head as if to scream, but no sound came out. The automatic rifle slipped from his fingers, landing on the floor without a shot fired. The man bucked once more, a trickle of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth before easing limply from the ground—almost as if he was being set down by someone. Ryan didn’t lower his focus for a moment, but kept his blaster’s sights aimed at the middle of the darkness, ready to shoot again if necessary.

  A moment later, a human shape appeared in the tunnel’s black mouth. Sergeant Caddeus knelt and wiped his crimson blade on the dead Native American’s loincloth before sheathing it, then picked up J.B.’s knife and Ryan’s panga and held them out to the two men, handle first. “Dropped your knives, boys.”

  Ryan stood and accepted his, brushing as much dirt and blood off as he could. “I had him, but thanks for the help.”

  “Doesn’t matter who takes ’em down, long as they go down for good.” Caddeus was dressed in his full web harness, and had a short-barreled Colt Commando 5.56 mm carbine slung over one shoulder. “Damn warriors have been a thorn in our side for years. Always hittin’ and runnin’, then vanishing when we try to follow. Thought they were hidin’ out in the hills, but looks like they did the opposite—went underground.”

  “Where did you come from?” J.B. asked as he snatched his knife out of the sec man’s hand. “We were in the tunnel two minutes after the wag hit bottom, and didn’t see you there.”

  Caddeus smiled. “My momma told me, ‘always be faster than everyone else thinks you are.’ Those raiders were all over us. My driver collapsed his sternum when he hit the steering wheel—always told that crazy mother to wear his seat belt. I tapped two, then saw Carrington get snatched—”

  Ryan raised a finger. “Hold up. You knew she was in your wag?”

  Caddeus shook his head. “Keep your voices down. No, I didn’t know. She was in the back and kept her cap low the whole time, at least till she was grabbed. I heard her yell and started after them. She took out one at the tunnel entrance. She’s a tough girl.”

  “Didn’t stop them from taking her, though.”

  Caddeus nodded. “That it didn’t. I followed them to their main quarters, then headed back to get reinforcements when I heard fighting here, and figured I’d better lend a hand—just in case, you understand.”

  “Yeah. Guess we’re it, far as I know. How’re you seeing down here, anyway?” Ryan asked.

  Caddeus turned on the small LED flashlight tucked into the epaulet on his shoulder. The light it emitted was red, enough to see the immediate surroundings without giving the wielder’s position away.

  Ryan grinned. “Slick. You’re on point, then.”

  The black man smiled back. “Well, I am the only one who knows where we’re going, so turn off that big, white target and let’s move out.” He spun on his heel and headed down the passage he’d come out of at a fast clip.

  Grabbing the AK-47 and slinging it, Ryan looked at J.B. and shrugged. “With him in front, at least I’ll be able to chill him if necessary.” He followed Caddeus down the black tunnel, with J.B. right behind him.

  They traveled another couple hundred feet, passing several side tunnels that Ryan marked with slashes from his panga so they could find their way back. Caddeus slowed, then came to a stop, motioning the other two to come closer. Ryan and J.B. did, their eyes widening as they saw what lay ahead.

  “How far below the surface are we?” J.B. asked, adjusting his glasses to better view what they had found.

  The tunnel led to a huge room, easily a hundred feet across and several stories high. Every surface was smooth here, as if many hands had created walls and the ceiling out of wet clay that had been allowed to bake in the constant dry heat. A large fire down in the middle of open space gave off enough light to see at the bottom, along with a haze of smoke that filled the upper third of the complex, drifting out of strategically placed holes and let in more light and also let smoke escape. The walls were covered with an intricate system of cave openings, with steps carved into the walls leading up and down.

  “She’s in here? How in the hell do you expect us to find her? Or get past everyone here?”

  “Relax, the warriors must have had a run of bad luck lately. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of them left. Look closely.”

  Now Ryan and J.B. saw that a lot of the caves seemed abandoned, with only a few lit from within. Perhaps two dozen people moved about, all in roughly the same area on the other side of the gigantic cavern.

  Caddeus pointed at a cave opening near the bottom. “I saw them take her in there. All we have to do is sneak in, get her and sneak out.”

  “That’s all, huh? And here I thought it might be difficult.” Ryan exchanged a dour glance with J.B. “Remember what the Trader said about planning?”

  “Yeah—no battle plan survives contact with the enemy.”

  Caddeus’s eyebrows raised at this. “Your Trader knew his military history. That was written in the nineteenth century by a guy named Helmuth von Moltke the Elder, a German army commander.”

  Now it was Ryan’s turn to be impressed. “How’d you know that?”

  “The Free City library has a pretty good collection of books, some on war. Carrington has all the men on active duty in the militia read and report on one a month, no exceptions.” He turned back to the strange ville ahead. “Anyway, it’s a good thing we’re not plannin’ on doin’ any fightin, ain’ it?”

  Ryan frowned. “Yeah. Let’s hope they aren’t planning on doing any, either.”

  Caddeus unslung his Colt Commando and carefully pulled the bolt back to chamber a round. “Even if they do, we should have the edge on firepower. Follow me, and remember, up is a threat direction here, as well.” He crept out, looking everywhere as he headed for the nearest stairway, a steep, narrow group of steps t
hat could easily be cut off at both ends, trapping anyone on it to be cut down at the attackers’ leisure.

  J.B. let air leak from between his lips. “Don’t know about you, but I got a bad feeling about this.”

  “Not much choice. We go back for reinforcements, and most likely we’ll find her dead. Come on.” Ryan made sure his newly acquired automatic longblaster was secure, then headed after the sergeant, trying to creep inconspicuously, if such a thing was possible. J.B. was right behind him, trying not to make a wrong step on the tight flight of stairs.

  Caddeus snuck around on the hard-packed staircases as if he’d been doing it all his life. Ryan and J.B. were more cautious, but as they made it farther down with no one seeming to notice them, they started to think they might actually pull off what had seemed like a suicide mission at first but what Ryan had now downgraded to merely crazy.

  They had only one bit of trouble on the descent. Caddeus was just about to start down the last staircase that would take them to the cave Rachel was being held in when two men appeared at the bottom and began to climb toward them. The sergeant signaled Ryan and J.B. to take cover in the nearest cave opening, which was pitch-black. The two men entered, hoping they wouldn’t stumble over a sleeping person and raise an alarm before they could chill him or her. Caddeus edged into the shadows right behind them just as the pair of men crested the top of the stairs, talking low between themselves in a language Ryan didn’t understand.

  Caddeus drew his combat blade, but froze at a light touch from Ryan, who had his own panga out, as well. J.B. had melded into the deep shadows on the other side, and all three men waited for the pair to pass. The smell of sweat, stale or uncooked food, and the general stench of too many bodies living too close together here was almost overwhelming.

  The snort that erupted behind them was so close that Ryan was hard-pressed not to whirl and bury his blade into whoever had made the noise. His eyes had adjusted to the dimness enough to see a banked fire at the back of the room, making him wonder where all the smoke went from each cave. Ryan also saw huddled forms sleeping next to the fire, including a small one who had just gotten up and was stumbling toward them.

  Caddeus tensed, readying himself to reach out and cover the boy’s mouth and nose while cutting his throat with one slash of his blade. Again, Ryan stopped him. While he wouldn’t hesitate to kill any one of these people if he had to, he wasn’t going to chill a child who, as of yet, hadn’t done anything to warrant death.

  The boy headed out of the cave, rubbing his eyes as he went. Caddeus put his lips to Ryan’s ear. “Why the hell did you stop me?”

  “Kill the boy, mebbe he’s discovered before we’re gone. Only if he sees us do we chill him, got it?”

  “Long as you’re willin’ to take that chance.”

  “I am. Shh. Listen.” Ryan nodded toward the entrance, where the sound of splashing liquid could be heard. Caddeus’s smile was quick, but he nodded, and moved back against the wall again.

  Having finished relieving himself, the boy trudged back into the stifling sleeping room, again not looking left or right, but heading with single-minded determination to his sleeping area, collapsing on it and curling into a tight ball, where he immediately fell asleep.

  Caddeus nodded. “Let’s go.” He checked the small landing, then crept out to the stairway. At the top, he motioned the other two to follow as he began his descent.

  Ryan and J.B. quickly came up behind him, the three men creeping down to where they thought Rachel was being held. Unlike the rest, this cave opening was covered by a rough-cured hide from some unrecognizable animal. As they drew closer, Ryan heard noises, movement of some kind. They better not be doing anything to her, he thought, not because it wasn’t a possibility, but because he thought Caddeus might go crazy and want to kill everyone in the place if he found Carrington’s daughter being raped or tortured.

  The sergeant was at the hide now, and was easing it aside with the blade of his knife just enough to see inside. Ryan signaled to J.B. to watch the far half of the ville caves while he kept his eye on the near ones.

  Caddeus pulled back far enough to catch Ryan’s eye and held up three fingers, then made a C with his hand, indicating Rachel, Ryan guessed, then stuck two fingers above his head to mimic feathers, indicating two men with her. Ryan pointed at him, held up the two fingers, then drew his finger across his throat in the universal gesture. Caddeus’s answering smile was as ice-cold as Ryan had ever seen on a man. He nodded and disappeared into the cave before the one-eyed man could say anything else. There was a loud crack, followed by a strangled gurgle, then silence. Caddeus stuck his head back out. “Inside. Now!”

  Ryan and J.B. wasted no time. In the small room, they found Rachel, gagged and bound hand and foot, and sporting a nasty welt under one eye, but otherwise apparently unharmed. The bodies of two long-haired, lifeless warriors were sprawled on the floor, one with his head twisted at an odd angle, the other leaking blood from a slit throat. Caddeus had gone to Rachel and was untying her, rubbing her ankles and wrists to restore circulation.

  As soon as her hands were free, Rachel tore off the filthy hunk of hide that had bound her mouth. “Give me a blaster.”

  Ryan wasn’t about to surrender one to her, but Caddeus drew his Beretta M9 blaster, chambered a round and handed it to her butt first. “Can you walk?”

  “Hell, yes! I can run right the fuck out of here. Let’s go before those other two come back. It sounded like they were bringing the chief, or whoever runs the show around here.”

  “That’s just great. J.B., keep an eye on the door.” Ryan rifled through the rest of the room, finding nothing but threadbare blankets and broken tools. “Just the ammo we have on us. Time to go.”

  J.B. was peeking out under the hide, and pulled back quickly. “Company’s coming. The two warriors and an old guy, all at the top of the stairs.”

  “Fireblast!” Ryan looked at the small space, realizing that the other three men wouldn’t be able to pack into the small room.

  “Rachel, stay where you are and put your hands behind your back again. Caddeus, on my side again. J.B., right there. Try to let all of them get inside before we start chilling. Knives only. A ricochet in here could kill any one of us.”

  “They’re here!” J.B. whispered.

  Everyone fell silent as they waited for the men to walk into the trap. Ryan was counting on the moment of surprise when they walked in to find their guards dead. During that valuable one or two seconds, the three men would join their deceased brethren.

  The footsteps came closer to the hide covering, murmuring voices carrying to the group inside. There was a pause, as if someone was arguing their point to the others, then another voice raised in what sounded like disagreement.

  Ryan took a moment to assess the other three. J.B. was his calm, phlegmatic self, ready to chill at a moment’s notice. Caddeus seemed a bit distracted by his concern for Rachel, but looked ready to go, as well. He was a bit unsure about Rachel. Her face was flushed, and her chest rose and fell rapidly. Her head moved in quick jerks, like a bird’s, and Ryan could have sworn her pupils had contracted when he’d seen her up close. He wasn’t sure, but from conversations with Mildred, she looked like she was in mild shock. Nothing to be done about it now but get her out of here as quickly as possible.

  Ryan turned back to the opening just as the hide was swept aside, and one of the men stooped to enter the hut. He walked in, his eyes alighting on Rachel first, then falling on his bodies of the dead guards. He stopped, causing the second man to bump into him, and opened his mouth to shout a warning when Rachel brought her Beretta out from behind her back and shot him three times.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  As soon as he sensed motion from behind him, Ryan knew what was about to happen, and cursed himself for not taking the blaster away from her when he’d had the chance. He pushed away from the men in the doorway, dropping to the ground and drawing his own weapon, in spite of his standing orders. The
Beretta’s reports were thunderously loud in the confines of the small room, making him grimace as the sound buffeted his eardrums.

  One thing he couldn’t fault—Rachel had certainly aimed well, not that it was all that difficult from a range of less than ten feet. Her trio of 9 mm bullets punched into the man’s upper chest, at least one piercing the heart, judging by how he lurched to a stop before falling over, one hand clutching the pulped, bloody hole where his heart used to beat.

  The second man looked like a chief, given the tattered buffalo robe on his scrawny shoulders and the threadbare hawk feather headdress atop his head. Having just entered the small chamber, he was now trapped between his suddenly dead guard and the warrior behind him, who was of no use there. He had just managed to turn and begin to shout an alarm when his throat was seized by Caddeus, cutting off his shout in midcry. Before the chief could raise his staff in defense, the sec man casually flicked out his dagger, stabbing the old man in the heart. He sagged at the attack, held up only by the black man’s strong arm. He tried to form a last sentence, whether it was a curse or a cry for mercy, Ryan would never know, particularly since he couldn’t understand a word these people said. But before he could speak, his head drooped to one side as he died in Caddeus’s hand.

  The third man had backed out of the entryway, and was shouting for help as he sprinted for the nearest stairway. J.B. stepped out of the cave, leveled his mini-Uzi, and squeezed off a short burst, which punched through the man’s chest and sent him tumbling out of sight down the stairway. J.B. stuck his head back in the cave. “Time to go,” he said over the shouts of alarm that were sounding in other areas of the cave complex.

  Rolling to his feet, Ryan grabbed Rachel by the arm, snatching the blaster out of her hand as he pulled her up. “What bastard part of no shooting did you not understand?”

  “I thought I saw a blaster in his hand—”

  “We had everything under control.” Ryan’s head snapped up at a light pressure from Caddeus, and he fixed the other man with his intense, ice-blue glare.