Thunder Road

by James Axler

  She was poised to act when Howard turned to her.

  “I don’t understand.”

  She was so taken aback by the complete confusion in his voice that any thought of action fell by the wayside. All she could do was stand there and say, “Understand what?” Aware with every syllable that she sounded as confused as he was.

  “Why this is happening. Why they are attacking us. Who these other people are, and why they want to attack me, too. All I want to do is make it a better world. It was so simple in the old days. People understood what was happening, and they did things the right way. Why aren’t they doing it like that? Why is it different?”

  “Howard,” she said softly. Then, catching herself, “Thunder Rider, you have to understand that those things you want to be like aren’t real. They’re stories. Things were never really like that, even back before the nukecaust.”

  “Never?”

  “No. They were just stories of how some people thought things should be…” All the while she kept half an eye on the monitors behind him. The remaining attackers were making good ground. From where they were now, they should be able to see the lip of the valley leading to the ruined ranch house. If they could get past the defensive gun emplacements, then they would have a chance of gaining access. If she could keep his attention for just long enough…

  But the pause was too long. It gave him enough time to think about what she said.

  “No,” he yelled, “that can’t be true. Those things happened. They’re real, they’re the history of the world when it was good. I haven’t lived my life for a lie. It’s you who lies. You say you’re Storm Girl, but you’re just like them, sent to test me.”

  He whirled, taking in the progress of the remaining attackers and the two parasails overhead.

  “Sid, ready and fire SMG defenses. Hammill, ground-to-air capability deployed, lock on airborne targets. Blast them out of the sky.”

  Krysty knew that Sid and Hammill had no choice but to obey, and she had delayed too long waiting for the optimum moment. There was no such thing. She had to make the best of what she had right now. Without a sound to give herself away, she took a step forward and wrapped an arm around Howard’s neck, closing around his throat as she pulled him to her. If she could break the bastard’s neck, if she could crush his windpipe to stop him issuing any more orders.

  Taken by surprise, he stumbled back into her, knocking her backward and off balance. She crashed against the wall, and the jarring impact made her grunt. But she did not weaken her grip. She was aware as he pushed against her of how strong he was, and simultaneously of how weakened she was, still, but she could not lessen that grip. He was trying to speak, but nothing except a strangled yelp emerged. She had to cling on, throttle him and stop him issuing orders at all costs….

  QUIET. OMINOUSLY QUIET. That was the only thing that kept going through Ryan’s head as he continued forward. He had expected some kind of opposition beyond a few light and sound weapons, and he was sure he was going to get it. But when? The heat of the afternoon sun was making them sweat. Every step on the treacherous surface of desert soil sapped yet more from their weary muscles, and the expectation made their hearts race, adrenaline pumping and spurring them on yet making their guts churn in time with their pace.

  They were nearing the ruined house that Corwen had spoken of. It had to be the way into the redoubt. The ridge of the small valley that enclosed it was now clear to them. The two remaining parasails were gliding over the top. Corwen’s voice came strong and clear over the comm.

  “It’s deserted. If there’s a way underground from here, I can’t tell from this distance. No sign of any life, or of any defenses.”

  “Keep triple red—that goes for everyone,” Ryan rasped as the heat of the day and of his exertion took its toll on his parched throat. “They’ve got to have something waiting for us.”

  But even as he spoke, two things happened. The first, and lesser, was the thought that flashed into his mind: what if the reason they had seen no other sec was because there was none? What if they were facing just one man, the mysterious rider himself? It wouldn’t be the first time they had come across a redoubt manned by just one lone crazie, albeit one who, in this case, knew the tech backward. If it was just the one opponent, alone with Krysty, then it may be that the situation was very different from their initial assumptions.

  The second thing to happen made any such train of thought irrelevant: it was a danger that needed immediate facing.

  As they trudged double-time across the expanse of sand, they were suddenly surprised to find themselves in the center of a rising swarm of gun emplacements. Rising from beneath, threatening to make their footing even more uncertain as the very earth seemed to move, a series of SMG emplacements—two or three mounted on each emplacement—rose aboveground.

  Before they had a chance to assimilate what was happening, the SMGs had started to rotate, spraying the surrounding area with fire that was angled into the ground. The obvious aim was to eliminate anything at a level of under two yards, the downward sweep of the SMG fire plotted so that anything at that level would be eliminated, the fire falling short of sweeping an adjacent emplacement but covering the area between.

  Jak grabbed Robear and hauled him into cover. If the fire did not reach the emplacement, then the safest place was in the emplacement itself, beneath the roaring SMGs but in an angle that they could not reach. J.B., Ryan and Mildred had much the same idea. Bryanna was caught out, and took a hit in the lower leg as she moved a fraction too slowly and was raked by fire. Her screams could be heard cutting across the chattering roar of the SMGs nearest to her, Ryan and Mildred. In the shelter of the emplacement, with the deafening noise above their heads, Mildred attempted to patch up the icy blonde’s leg as quickly as possible. Ryan tried to see what had happened to the others. Rounda and Doc were huddled together beneath an emplacement.

  The T-shirted man whose name they had never learned was not so lucky. His reactions were just too slow, and as he was caught by a hail of bullets, the force of their striking him threw him into the path of another rain of lead. His body was tossed, now long-since devoid of life, kept upright for some time by the momentum of hits until a fine mist of red blood seemed to form an aura around him. Gravity eventually claimed him, but in the interim it was a terrible sight.

  The experience seemed to continue for some time, but in truth it was little more than a few seconds. Corwen, gliding above, could see what was occurring almost before it had hit those on the ground. Switching frequency to cut out the noise of the SMGs as their chattering was picked up by the comm equipment on the ground, he ordered his other craft to circle and bomb the ground below, knocking out a line of emplacements and allowing the remaining warriors a clear path to the ruined ranch.

  Ryan could see the intent, but it still left them the problem of getting away from the emplacements under which they sheltered. There was only one course of action that he could see. It was risky, but then again, what wasn’t? He took a gren from one of his pockets, looked across to where Jak and Robear were sheltering. He gestured, and they understood immediately. Although neither of them carried grens, Robear had the explosive heads on his crossbow bolts. He produced one, nodding.

  Ryan then looked across to J.B. The Armorer was grinning, light in his eyes and a gren in his hand.

  They had to be ready, they had to be fast, and they still ran the risk of being cut to ribbons or hit by blast shrapnel.

  As the explosive charges detonated, they were—all of them—propelled forward into the hail of fire. They kept low, almost scuttling across the sand. The fire from the SMGs changed angle as the emplacements exploded, and this was the edge Ryan had counted on, that crucial few inches, becoming yards as the blasters angled to the skies before dying as the circuits connecting them to the base were shattered.

  The SMGs still roared around them, but they were now free of fire, running full-pelt, pushed harder by the blast at their tail, toward the rui
ned ranch.

  They were past the defenses, and almost onto the redoubt.

  KRYSTY’S GRIP WAS beginning to weaken. She didn’t want to risk calling on the Gaia power, but knew that she couldn’t hold on much longer. Howard was capable of a strangled grunt, but no speech. She knew that she did not have the strength as she stood to chill the bastard, but if she could just…

  On the monitor screens, she could see the SMG emplacements get blasted, and the remaining force charge forward. There were still eight of them, more than enough to finish this, if only they could find their way in.

  “Machine-gun emplacements in sector five eliminated. The enemy is past exterior defenses and through to the entry. Interior defenses remain inactive until authorized.”

  Hammill’s voice could not hide the gleeful note of triumph. Until he was ordered, he could keep the defenses inactive without contravening his programming. If the outsiders got in, they would have a clear run.

  Howard struggled against Krysty. His elbows and feet jabbed at her, trying to make her break her grip. She was weary, but grim determination made her cling on. If she could just…

  She gasped as a lucky blow caught her in the solar plexus, driving the air from her. Her grip loosened reflexively, and it was enough for Howard to struggle away from her. He turned, coughing and choking, his eyes blazing hate.

  “Why…” he gasped.

  “Krysty, I have the code. Activating numbers now,” Sid’s exultant tones came flooding out. “Numbers input…processing…fail-safe activated. We’re free, Krysty, free…”

  Howard glared at her, anger and bemusement fighting for expression on his face. “Sid, activate interior defenses.”

  “No, Howard. It’s over. And it’s best this way.”

  “But…but you’re my friend,” Howard said in a small voice that bespoke of the child that he still remained. For a moment, Krysty could almost feel sorry for him. He hadn’t asked to be mentally twisted as he was.

  “No, Howard,” Sid said softly. “We were never friends. Hammill and myself like you in the sense that you are an innocent corrupted by things of which you have no knowledge, and could not help. But you are dangerous, and we have still been your slaves.”

  “It’s time to bring this to an end. We want to rest,” Hammill said. “Thank you, Krysty. Your friends will be here soon. I have opened the base to the outside world, and will guide them here.”

  Howard’s face changed. No longer the bewildered child, he was now the spoiled brat deprived of his toys, unable to get his own way.

  “Bitch,” he stormed, lunging at Krysty with a strength born of rage. He was faster and harder than she had expected, and—taken by surprise—she was taken off balance.

  As she tumbled backward, her head striking the wall and seeing stars, she hoped that she would be able to hold him off just long enough for Ryan to arrive. His hands tightened around her throat, and the periphery of her vision began to blacken.

  RYAN LOOKED AROUND. The interior of the old ranch house was derelict, falling to pieces. Except for the centerpiece of the staircase, which would once have risen majestically through all levels of the building. Now it stood alone. So why was the fireblasted thing so impervious to age when all around had crumbled?

  “The entrance—it’s got to be there,” he said. Looking around, he could see J.B., Jak, Mildred and Doc nearby, with Rounda. Bryanna was a little apart, talking in low tones to a Robear who looked less than happy.

  “Hey, time to stay together,” Ryan directed at her.

  “It’s gone quiet,” she countered, ignoring his implication. “Why is that? Shouldn’t we be taking cover?”

  “From what?” J.B. questioned. “The defenses face out, and they’re dead now—” the silence as the SMGs had ceased was almost eerie “—and the only way in is through there.” He gestured at the stairwell. “They know we’re here, and we know we’ve got to get in. Time to worry is when we blast the fucker down, not now.”

  Bryanna opened her mouth, as if about to speak, but was forestalled by the soft whirring of well-oiled machinery. Ryan gestured them to as much cover as was available, and they were poised to fire on whatever came out of the opening entrance.

  But the door remained open, with no indication of life beyond. Ryan and J.B. exchanged glances, then moved forward, covering each other as they advanced. The inside of the corridor that led downward was well lit, and they could see that it was empty. The last thing they expected was the voice of Sid, coming at them from inside.

  “Welcome. Your caution is understandable, but you have nothing to fear. It is imperative that you enter immediately. Krysty is being attacked and requires your assistance. Furthermore, this base is set to self-destruct within an hour. You must trust me.”

  His tone of voice on the last few words showed how ridiculous Sid knew this to be. But he also knew that he must make them believe him, and with no time for explanations.

  “Very well.” The voice sighed. The sound of creaking machinery made them look around, and they could see that the emplacements nearest the lip of the valley in which the ranch house lay had swiveled to face inward, and were now pointing down. The voice continued. “I did not wish to take away your element of choice, but there is not time. In thirty seconds, the guns will start to fire if you do not enter.”

  He let the implication sink in. Ryan looked at the others. He didn’t know the tech-nomads well enough, but knew that his own people would rather take a chance and risk a hand-to-hand fight any day. Corwen’s two parasails were overhead, circling as Ryan had requested, but could they swoop down and bomb the emplacements before damage was done? It wasn’t worth taking that chance.

  No words needed to be exchanged. Ryan went in first, Jak following behind, Mildred, then Doc, with J.B. covering the rear. It was best to rely on themselves first. Rounda needed no prompting, however, and was on their tail. It was Bryanna who held back, holding back Robear, waiting to see how the land lay.

  It lay well. As they entered, they encountered no opposition, nor did they expect to, after the first couple of moments.

  It seemed almost anticlimactic, yet not a surprise. For a while, Ryan and Doc had both suspected that the redoubt had no one except the mystery rider and Krysty inside—plus whoever the voice belonged to—and now that they were actually in the heart of the redoubt, the feeling of complete emptiness only confirmed this. It was instinct long born out of experience that made them feel the voice had not lied. The place was chilled already, and felt like it had been for some time.

  Ahead of them, lights flashed on and off, seeming to beckon to them. Still maintaining some caution, Ryan led them down the lighted path, mindful also of the urgency with which the voice had spoken.

  “HANG ON, KRYSTY, help is on its way,” Sid’s voice said, the frustration at his lack of corporeal form evident in his tone.

  She hoped he was right. She could feel her consciousness slipping away, and with each moment that she grew weaker so Howard’s grip grew stronger, hastening her demise.

  And then there was a moment where it seemed to her that the world had finally imploded. She heard a deafening report, and the grip loosened on her neck. There was a roaring in her ears, stars and whirring, flashing lights in front of her eyes as blood began to flow. Or was it the onset of being chilled?

  “Krysty!”

  It was Ryan’s voice. Her vision started to clear and she could see that he was accompanied by the others. She tried to speak, but her throat was damaged and nothing understandable emerged.

  She gestured upward as Sid started to speak.

  “There is no time to explain. Krysty will, I am sure, when she can. With Howard dead, and our programs on self-destruct, it is imperative that you leave the base and evacuate the immediate area. Most of the destruct blast will be contained, but there will be some surface damage.”

  “What about you?” Ryan said. “Where are you? We can’t just—”

  “Krysty will explain that, also,” Sid
cut in. “We cannot leave, physically, and it is necessary that we die. Gather your people and go. Goodbye, Krysty. Bless you.”

  Krysty was unsteady, but aided by Doc and Mildred she allowed herself to be led from the console room. The path to the surface was lit for them. She wanted to say something to Sid, to Hammill, something that would be a satisfactory farewell. But try as she might, her voice was nothing more than a croak.

  “Where’s Bryanna and Robear?” Rounda asked.

  J.B. looked behind them. “Dark night, don’t tell me she’s gone plundering!”

  “Why the hell would she do that?” Mildred asked.

  “Millie, if I was her, the chance to loot down here would be the only reason I would have agreed to help us,” the Armorer replied.

  “Screw her,” Rounda said. “She’s that dumb, she deserves to buy the farm. It’d only stop her chilling others with what she found.”

  “We can’t just leave her—” Mildred began, but was cut short by Jak.

  “People make choice, take shit happens.”

  “He’s right,” Ryan said as they reached the entrance to the now-doomed Murania.

  He yelled into the comm device, “Corwen, we need you. Can you take us all out of here?”

  The green-haired man’s voice was calmer than Ryan could have expected. “We’ll have no height, and little speed, but—”