by James Axler
However, even though some of their number hit the dirt, the promise of food and the fear caused by the carnage among them spurred the stickies on even more and they continued their charge toward the Pilatan caravan.
“What manner of creatures are these?” Sineta whispered in awe. As most of the Pilatans, she hadn’t yet started to fire, frozen in surprise and horror as she watched the mutie horde cover the distance between the spring and the caravan with a deceptively fast, loping strides. They were gaining ground quickly—too quickly for Markos, one of the only Pilatans with the presence of mind to fire on the approaching danger, and he turned and yelled at his people.
“They’re dangerous and deadly if you don’t start firing,” Mildred screamed in the baron’s ear as she ran to her side, still snapping off shots from her ZKR, and reloading on the run. “Now start shooting, for God’s sakes, and aim for their heads!”
Galvanized into action by Mildred and Markos, the baron and the rest of the Pilatans began to fire. But some of the stickies had made enough ground to now be on top of the caravan. One grabbed at a sec man, frozen in fear, and wrestled him to the ground, the suckers tearing the flesh on his face as the sharp rows of teeth made to rip at his throat and shoulder. His scream was high, built on fear and pain.
Mildred moved across swiftly and placed her ZKR on the side of the creature’s head, firing and blowing its skull open, splattering the terrified sec man with brain and bone. The chilled stickie fell from him, but where the skull had been cracked like an eggshell, the teeth from the bottom jaw stayed imbedded in his face.
Another scream from behind made Mildred whirl, cursing herself for leaving Sineta’s side. A stickie had made it as far as the baron and had jumped her, dragging her to the ground. They were rolling wildly in the dust, the baron vainly fighting to throw the mutie off her, just holding its head away from her face by keeping the heel of her hand firmly under the creature’s chin, pushing it up. But the stickie’s strong arms—a deceptive strength given the seemingly pale flabbiness of the creature’s flesh—were pulling her arms down, the suckers biting into the skin through her clothes, deadening the muscles as the iron grip cut off the blood supply.
Mildred tried to take aim, but they were moving too much. She stood too much risk of hitting Sineta if she fired.
Jak saw what was happening and before Mildred even had a chance to register what he was doing, the albino hunter had sped past her toward the struggling couple. Holstering his .357 Magnum Colt Python and palming one of his razor-sharp, leaf-bladed knives, he took the stickie at a run, a swift arm movement slicing across the front of the creature’s head, opening up its face from the top lip to the forehead, slicing through the nose and puncturing one eyeball along the way. As the creature’s fetid breath mixed with the blood and eyeball mucus that dripped onto her face, Sineta found herself gagging, fighting to hold down the bile that rose in her throat and would choke her if she gave in to the urge to vomit while she was still pinned down.
The stickie screamed in a high, keening voice, loosening its grip as it registered pain. Sineta responded immediately, throwing the mutie off her. Even before it had landed, Jak followed up to finish the job, pinning it down and slicing across its throat with one swift, efficient motion, cutting through the neck to the spinal column at the rear.
Sineta didn’t have a chance to thank him. Instead, she showed her appreciation by blasting the stickie that was making for Jak’s exposed back.
Gradually, as the firepower of the caravan decimated the stickie horde and thinned it out, the stunned Pilatans began to gain the upper hand, forcing the remaining stickies to run in fear and terror. When the retreating muties were out of range, and the Pilatans were safe, Markos turned to Ryan, having assessed that the caravan had sustained only minimal casualties.
“Now are you going to tell me all about those creatures, and any other hazards we may need warning about?” He grinned, flushed from the success of battle.
Ryan returned the smile. “When we’ve cleaned up.”
WITH REPLENISHED STOCKS, the caravan once more went on its way. Ryan and the other companions had outlined some of the dangers that the Pilatans may face from the likes of stickies, but despite the increased vigilance of the sec patrols, there was nothing more to report as they made their way out of the rad-infected section of country.
As the land became more verdant once more, they found themselves climbing an incline. The land around was rolling plains and they seemed to be taking one of these on the ascent as they followed the blacktop. It was a shallow incline, but a long one—at least a day’s march—and it would finally take them away from the old predark route they had been following for the blacktop curved away from the incline and came to a sudden halt where a chasm had been cut into the land by an earth movement. A sec party including Ryan and Markos had made its way along the remnants of the road until it came to the sudden dip of the chasm. It was about sixty feet wide and stretched like a scar on the land as far as they could see in either direction. Looking down, the chasm seemed to be at least a hundred feet deep, with trees and shrubs growing down sides that were too steep to countenance a descent.
“It would appear, friend Ryan, that this is the end of the road, if you’ll excuse the appalling word play,” Markos said ruefully. “From our discussions, I gather that many villes and trade routes are built along these old roads and that would have been our surest chance of hitting something approaching civilization.”
“Yeah, apart from the fact that civilization is just a word that I’ve seen in some old predark books,” Ryan said quietly.
“Point taken, my friend. Let us just say that it would bring us into contact with other people. But now…”
“Well, it’s not that great a disaster. There’s more than one old blacktop left across the land. If we keep going, we’ll come to something sooner or later—some place where you can settle.”
“But not you?”
Ryan smiled wryly. “I doubt it.”
The sec party returned to the main body of the caravan and reported their findings before carrying on with the trek up the long incline.
It was an easy trek after the past few days. There was a plentiful supply of animals, fruits for food and water in streams that flowed down and across the downs at strange angles. It was such a peaceful procession, that actually reaching the peak of the plain was somewhat of a surprise. The pinnacle stretched out before them for a hundred yards, before beginning the descent into a valley below.
“Wow, just look at that,” Dean whispered softly as the caravan came to a halt and they all surveyed the territory in front of them. The far side of the valley was a much shallower incline, leading on to lands beyond. They could see the remains of old roads in the distance and the marked-out remnants of arable fields and pasture. At one time, before the nukecaust, this land had been prime farming acreage and had road contacts to villes that may lay beyond, which were still possibly extant and served by trade convoys.
“Now that looks good to me,” Mildred said to Sineta. “What do you think?”
“I think that it may be what we are looking for,” the baron said on reflection. “It has farming possibilities and the space to build a new settlement. Moreover, it is not at present populated, so we will not be intruding on another ville’s space and sparking conflict that we can ill afford while still settling.”
“All in all, sounds perfect,” Mildred mused.
“Perhaps it will be,” the baron said softly. “Perhaps for all of us?”
“That I couldn’t say,” Mildred replied in as noncommittal a tone as possible, for she had just noticed that J.B. and Ryan were conferring about something they had seen down in the valley.
The caravan began its descent down the soft slope toward the floor of the long valley, and the perfect settling lands that lay there. Ryan beckoned to Mildred to join them. As she did, he indicated a small crevice in the land that lay about three miles to their left, at the join of the in
cline to the valley floor. Casting her eyes over it, Mildred could see that it had all the recognizable hallmarks of a hidden redoubt. To most eyes, it would look like nothing more than a small rock indent in the land, but the trained observer would be able to tell the camouflage around a redoubt entrance. Some may have been stripped of this after skydark, but this one still retained its disguise.
“We’ll tell them tonight when we rest and then strike out for it tomorrow,” Ryan told her. “We’ve got a few things we need to sort out among ourselves,” he continued with a meaningful glance at Sharona and Dean, before adding, “That’s if you want to come with us.”
Mildred smiled wryly. “I’ve made my choice, Ryan.”
The caravan continued until the twilight, when they established camp for the night. After they had eaten, Ryan joined Markos, Sineta and Mildred.
“I’ve got something to tell you,” he began. “Come first light, we’ll be moving on.”
“But where to?” Markos answered, bewildered. “I can see nothing around here that could distract you from our shared path.”
“There’s something. Something to do with following the dream, I suppose.” Ryan smiled when he saw the sec boss’s uncomprehending expression. “It’s something we have to do. Besides, we have our own problems to contend with and we need to be able to concentrate on those.”
Sineta nodded. “It must be difficult, with the boy’s mother appearing as if from nowhere. But we will miss you—all of you,” she added pointedly, looking at Mildred.
“You mean you will be going with them?” Markos asked Mildred. When Mildred nodded, he said, “I wish you would reconsider…all of you.” With which he stood and walked away from them.
“I didn’t figure we were that important,” a mystified Ryan said, half joking.
“I think it may be more than that,” Sineta replied perceptively, indicating that Mildred should go after him.
Mildred got to her feet and walked after the sec boss, who stood on the verge of the camp, looking out into the night. He turned as he saw her approach.
“I don’t think there is anything more that can be said really, is there?” he asked.
“Maybe.” Mildred shrugged. “But maybe you should know that this is the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make. And if you had the slightest idea of how weird and strange my life has been next to yours, you’d know how deep that cuts.”
“Then why are you going?”
“Because I have to. I know we both pulled back from each other, but maybe something could have happened if I stayed.”
“So why don’t you?” There was pain and anger mixed in his tone.
“Because I have other loyalties that cut me deeper still. Not just to J.B., but to all of them. We’ve got bonds and ties that were forged in fire, and you can’t walk away from those.”
“And, in truth, I would not expect you to,” he said softly before walking away from her.
WHEN THE MORNING CAME, the companions prepared to leave and the entire tribe rose to wish them well. As they made to leave, Sineta approached them.
“Words are so easy and seem so pointless at a time like this,” she began, “but nonetheless, I feel it is important that I say this. Without you, we would still have had to leave Pilatu and begin again, but it would have been a harder, more costly experience. We owe you much, and we will never forget you.” The baron embraced Mildred, her eyes filled with tears of regret. The companions parted company with Pilatu. In the end, it was as simple as walking in a different direction to the caravan, which began to move off and down into the valley, searching for a spot to begin building.
Markos didn’t watch the companions leave and Mildred didn’t look for him.
After they had walked some distance, they stopped to rest. The redoubt could still be reached before nightfall. Mildred turned to look back to see the Pilatan caravan stretching out across the valley floor. J.B. came up to her, standing behind and resting his hands lightly on her shoulders.
“They’ll be fine. Good people with good leaders,” he said at length. When Mildred didn’t reply, he said after a pause, “Millie, tell me honestly, did you really want to go with them? I mean, are you with us because of the past and not the future? I mean—”
She turned and silenced him by putting her fingers to his lips.
“John,” she said softly, “when have you ever known me to do anything that I didn’t feel was the right thing? The right thing for me, and for those who I want around me,” she added, stressing the last half of the sentence.
The Armorer started to answer, but before he could speak she shook her head.
“Never,” she whispered. “And that still stands.”
THEY MADE THE REDOUBT by nightfall. The recessed entrance was shut tight. Without an exterior trigger it was a problem as to how they would gain entry. But not a problem that hadn’t been considered.
“Jak, you remember we’ve been to redoubts that had vents for their air-conditioning and cleaning systems?” Ryan asked. When the albino youth nodded, the one-eyed man continued, “Do you reckon these vents would have maintenance and service hatches?”
“Remember climbing down one,” Jak replied. “Just need find it.”
Without another word, Ryan followed Jak as the albino scaled the shallow wall of rock around the recessed entrance. The two men scoured the top of the small plateau formed in the side of the valley by the redoubt entrance, moving out of sight of the rest of the companions.
“What the hell are they doing?” Sharona complained.
“Trying to get us in,” Krysty snapped in a tone that would brook no argument, causing Mildred and J.B. to exchange glances.
Meanwhile, on top of the plateau, Ryan and Jak were searching in the fading light for signs of a venting system.
“Usually hidden by rock pile,” Jak indicated. “And has narrow channel into service tunnel.”
“You think you’ll have any trouble getting past the rad shielding?” Ryan queried, knowing from past experience that the maintenance shafts were gated by lead-lined, airtight doors.
Jak shook his head. “Never locked, just tight stop air. Not trust stupe sec with codes and keys.” He grinned. “Most seals rubber and rotted—” He broke off as he found the vent. “Here.”
Ryan joined the albino youth and helped him move the rock pile that had been carefully placed more than a hundred years previously to cover the vent outlet. The movement of the earth after skydark had only helped to camouflage the vent, as more rocks had moved onto the pile. It was almost completely dark as they finished removing the obstruction. Below, the rest of the companions waited patiently—with the exception of Sharona—for word from above.
Jak looked up at the night sky. It was clear, with a crescent moon that cast a wan light over the land.
“Go back, Ryan. Tell others what’s happening. See you soon,” he added with a grin that split his white, scarred face as he slid down into the vent.
The one-eyed man watched him go, then carefully descended to the entrance below. While he outlined the situation, Jak wormed his way through the vent.
It was tight and pitch-dark. It was only the albino’s wiry frame and the fact that his pigmentless eyes could adapt to almost zero levels of light that enabled him to make progress and marked him as the only one of the companions who could have fulfilled this task. He squirmed and wriggled down the narrow vent, the heat soon building up around him despite the constant uprush of expelled air from the conditioner, making him sweat heavily, a sweat that was dried by the rushing air before it reached his eyes, the eyeballs gritty and sore in the constant flow of arid air.
As he made progress, his fingers sought the telltale impress of the service hatches. The panic of enclosure was beginning to prick at the edges of his mind—how could he go backward in this tight, downward vent if he didn’t find a way into the service hatches—as his fingers found that for which he sought. Prizing the hatch open, so that it fell down across the vent, temporari
ly blocking the flow, he found that he had been right about the rubber seals. Wasting no time, lest the open hatch door caused a blow-back in the conditioning system, he pulled himself into the service tunnel and reached down to pull the door shut.
The maintenance tunnel was lit by a low-level red strip and had a larger circumference than the vent. Jak was able to relax and breathe more easily for a second before beginning the long haul into the redoubt. It was easier, but finding his way around the maze of service tunnels would take time. It was almost impossible to get totally lost, as he would emerge somewhere in the redoubt, but he wanted to come as near to the surface level as possible. There was no way of knowing if the redoubt was inhabited in any way, and he was keen to adopt any measure that would reduce risk.
In a short time, Jak dropped back into the air-conditioning system so that he could wriggle to a vent and make a recce. It was important that he find out where he was and if he could see any signs of life. The vent showed him he was in an upper level, near old admin offices.
He stilled himself as much as possible and listened carefully. There was nothing. Sniffing the air, Jak found it was stale. Every instinct told him the redoubt was empty. But he still refused to take chances. Moving back into the maintenance tunnels, he found an exit on the same level and cautiously emerged into the body of the redoubt, his Colt Python ready to hand.
He was more relaxed by the time he had traveled from the service hatch to the main redoubt door. There were no signs of life and no signs that the redoubt had been occupied since predark times. He keyed in the sec code to open the door and greeted the companions with a rare smile.
