Читать книгу Black Harvest - James Axler - Страница 9

Ryan Cawdor let out a gasp and cracked open his eye.

“Everything all right, lover?” Krysty Wroth, Ryan’s titian-haired lover looked concerned.

Memories of a jump nightmare swirled around his head.

Even though the jump had been tough on him, Ryan was in top physical condition, and his ability to recover from the mat-trans jumps was better than most in his small band of travelers. He’d experienced a bad jump dream, nothing more than that.

“Been better, but I’m okay,” he said. “You?”

“I’ve been worse,” Krysty answered.

Ryan believed that to be true. Her gorgeous mane of bright red hair, which usually lay flat against her head and shoulders after a jump, was full and thick, and cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall.

She gestured to her right with a nod. “Doc didn’t do so well, though.”

Ryan looked at Dr. Theophilus Algernon Tanner, a tall and skinny man dressed in an old and worn frock coat. To the casual observer, he appeared to be in his sixties, but it could be argued that the man was actually hundreds of years old. Ryan knelt next to Doc and put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “You with us, Doc?”

“‘Is this a dagger I see before me—’” Doc muttered.

“Can you hear me, Doc?”

“‘—the handle toward my hand?’”

J. B. Dix, the group’s armorer and weapons expert, removed his spectacles and rubbed his head. “What’s Doc talking about now?”

“It’s Shakespeare,” Dr. Mildred Wyeth replied. “Macbeth.”

“Sounds…interesting,” Krysty commented.

“Sounds crazy,” Jak Lauren said.

The teenaged albino usually fared the worst of all the members in the group after a jump, but this time he looked as if he came through unscathed.

It was Doc who’d had the hardest ride.

He’d be out of it for a while, his thoughts rambling and erratic, but he’d be all right in time.

Ryan shook one of the old man’s shoulders. “Are you all right?”

“What?” Doc said, shaking his head as if the brain inside were shrouded in cobwebs.

When he saw the one-eyed man standing over him, Doc gave Ryan an angry scowl. “I say, my dear Ryan, if you’d like my attention I suggest you use the nomenclature provided for me upon my birth, meaning you can call me Theophilus, or Theo, if you like, or you can simply use the more vernacular terms Doc or Doc Tanner. There is no need to wrench my shoulder from my body!”

Ryan grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Doc massaged his aching shoulder.

“Where this place?” Jak asked, turning slowly to study the walls.

Ryan looked around the chamber as well, but didn’t recognize the purple-blue tint of the armaglass walls. The colors were similar to several chambers they’d been in before, but none had had this exact pattern or shading.

“Only one way to find out for sure,” Ryan said. “Triple red.”

He put his left hand on the handle that would open the door to the chamber.

For a moment the inside of the chamber was filled with the sound of the friends’ blasters being unholstered and cocked.

Then, silence.

Ryan turned the handle and pushed against the door. Slowly, the door swung open.

And then it stopped with a loud creak.

At the same time, the stench of death wafted into the chamber, causing several of the friends to cough.

“Is it blocked?” J.B. asked.

“Can’t tell,” Ryan answered.

He pushed against the door and felt resistance. He stopped a moment, reset his feet and tried it again. This time, with the help of J.B. and Jak, he was able to force open the door.

Mildred, Krysty and Doc’s blasters swept across the open doorway, but found no one outside the chamber waiting for them.

Ryan and the others pushed the door all the way open. It came to an abrupt stop with a grinding halt, metal against metal, and it was obvious to them why the door had been so hard to open. The steel had been bashed and scarred on the outside and several of the hinges were gone, either torn away from the door or just smashed beyond recognition.

“Blasterfire?” Jak asked, putting the tip of his index finger into a large pit in the outside of the door.

“Yeah, and mebbe some grens,” J.B. added. “Recent, too.”

“And all other manner of weaponry as well,” Doc offered.

There’d been a firefight in the redoubt, that much was obvious. There were blaster marks on the walls, and entire sections of floor and walls that had been scarred by blasters and who knew what else.

“Thought redoubts nukeproof,” Jak stated.

J.B. turned toward the albino teenager. “They are, but that’s when the nukes go off on the outside. From the looks of this damage, there were bombs or grens going off in here.”

“Then how come the chamber wasn’t damaged?” Mildred asked.

Ryan tried to close the door to the chamber, but it wouldn’t swing back. He left the door where it was, hanging open at a strange angle. “Inside wasn’t damaged. Outside was blasted to hell.”

“So it held together just long enough,” Mildred continued, “to receive one last band of jumpers.”

J.B. nodded again. “Looks like it.”

They inspected the outside of the chamber more closely for several moments.

“Ryan, over here,” Krysty called from a corner of the control room.

As Ryan made his way over to her, he became aware of the stench of rotting flesh.

“Bodies,” Krysty said. “Lots of them.”

There were at least a dozen bodies strewed across the floor near the wall. They’d been cut down by blasterfire and had died where they’d fallen. There were skeletons at the bottom of the mess, but some of the corpses on top didn’t look that far gone.

Krysty suddenly raised her hand.

The rest of the friends went silent.

“Someone’s coming,” Krysty announced, her hair tightly wound around her head and neck as an added indication of the danger.

Ryan signaled the rest of them to scatter and find cover, and then he waited in silence for the sound of footsteps. At last he could hear them, softly padding feet approaching their position at a modest rate, seemingly walking without purpose.

And then he saw her as she rounded the corner to the room surrounding the chamber. Or perhaps more correctly, saw it.

It was a young, pale-skinned girl. Her hair was a dusty black and her body was covered in fresh red scars and bleeding sores. She wore only a pair of shorts, and the tiny buds of her breasts told Ryan she was younger than twelve.

Ryan stepped forward, and the rest of the friends followed, stepping out of the shadows. “Hello,” he said.

She didn’t answer. Instead she just looked at him and smiled. “You got bang?” she said.

Ryan wasn’t sure what the right answer was, so he said nothing.

“Want bang.”

Ryan shook his head, then looked to the rest of the friends for an answer.

Mildred stepped forward. “Are you all right, girl? Is someone you know hurt?” Mildred looked confused. “What’s bang?”

“Gimme bang,” she said, turning to Mildred.

“I’m sorry, child, but I haven’t got any… And from the sounds of it, I don’t think I want any, either.”

“Gimme bang!” she demanded, louder this time.

“What’s wrong with you?”

The girl didn’t answer. Instead she ran toward Mildred and leaped into the air, a knife glinting in her hand.

But as the girl soared through the air, there was a sharp crack of a blaster and half of her head vanished in a spray of blood-red mist.

Mildred wiped a bit of the child’s blood and brain matter from her face. “Damn! Thanks, Jak.”

“Yes, well done, Master Lauren. Quick, decisive and an expert shot,” Doc said. “As always.”

“What did she want?” Krysty asked.

“Bang, whatever that is,” Mildred answered. “I don’t think she was hurting.” She knelt over the body and examined it. “Most of these scars have been healed over for weeks. The fresh ones look like she’d been picking at them.”

“Mebbe was crazy,” Jak said.

Mildred ignored the comment. “Well, whatever bang is, she wanted it pretty bad.”

“Think it’s a drug?” Ryan suggested.

“That would be a good guess.” Mildred got up from beside the body. “Can’t be sure, though.”

“Well, whatever it is, it’s a good bet that there are other people in the redoubt,” J.B. stated.

Ryan nodded. “Triple red, people.”

The chatter going on behind Ryan died down, and his companions followed him through the redoubt in silence.

As they moved up and down stairs, along corridors and through holes blasted in the walls, they could find nothing of value left inside the redoubt and no evidence of anyone else living inside it. Most items left behind had been destroyed, or had otherwise been rendered useless. Two sections of the redoubt that had been cleaned out were the medical lab and the kitchen. Everything inside those rooms had been carted away, with pipes and wires neatly cut from the walls rather than torn out in a hurry. Somebody was making use of the equipment, and likely using it for more than making meals and treating the sick.

They continued searching the redoubt for anything of value, and as they turned the corner at the end of a long corridor, Ryan saw a light in the distance.

It was a dimly reflected light, and had to be checked out.

“Jak,” Ryan said.

The albino teen moved to the front of the line and came up by Ryan’s side.

“See where that leads,” Ryan commanded.

Without a word, Jak headed down the corridor toward the light. The others had their blasters trained on the end of the hallway, covering him just in case.

They watched the teen’s body get smaller and smaller until all that could be seen was his stark white hair growing brighter the closer he got to the light source. And then, all of a sudden it was gone as he turned the corner into the light. Minutes later he reemerged, and when he neared, it was obvious that he had some good news.

“Outside,” he said, gesturing down the hall.

“People?” Ryan asked.

Jak shook his head. “No.”

“What’s out there, then?”

“Sky. Rolling fields. River.”

“Anything else?”

“What more want?”

Ryan and the others walked toward the light and exited the redoubt to a hot, sunny day, the sky tinged by a slight purple hue with streaks of green and orange throughout. The surrounding fields were barren, or else overgrown by weeds, but they seemed to roll with the irregular undulation of foothills, suggesting they might be somewhere in the Midwest.

Jak tapped Ryan on the shoulder and pointed to the south. “River, near trees.”

Ryan took out his marine telescope from a pocket in his coat, extended it to its full length and brought the lens up to his eye.

After making several adjustments to focus, he said, “About an hour away on foot. We can make camp there, mebbe catch something to eat in the river.”

“Sounds like a plan,” J.B. said.

And then, without another word, the friends were off, heading south in single file to cover their tracks in the earth, Ryan leading the way, J.B. bringing up the rear.

They didn’t know what to expect.

But together, they were ready for anything.