James Axler Deathlands 052 Zero City

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admittance, but a crowbar convinced the door to open for her anyway. Neatly
jammed with surgical instruments specifically designed for soldiers in combat,
the pack was as heavy as hell, but the physician couldn't have been more
pleased. Dr.
Mildred Wyeth was a trained doctor, but without instruments, there wasn't much
she could do for serious injuries.
The external light got brighter, and the companions prepped their weapons.
Ryan slowed the Hummer to a crawl, but as they rounded a turn they found the
outside ledge completely empty, only a few of their spent brass from the
previous night on the rocky ground.
Braking to a halt, Ryan killed the engine to save fuel. The companions
disembarked, with J.B. staying at the machine gun to give them cover if
necessary. Warily stepping outside, the friends found the tunnel ended at the
top of a gently sloping hillock that flowed downward into a vast expanse of
sandy desert, low dunes rising and falling across the barren vista like waves
on a calm sea. In the far distance, completely dominating the horizon, were
the sprawling ruins of the huge pre-dark city.
"Spread out and look for the mutie. Five yards, one on one," Ryan directed,
blaster in hand. A breeze wafted over them from the desert, carrying the smell
of heat and dust. Instinctively, he checked the rad counter on his shirt
collar and was relieved to see the background count was normal. This wasn't a
hot area.
"Not circling above us," Dean said, squinting at the overcast sky. "But it
sure looks like a storm is on the way."
"Those are the wrong type of formations for rain," Mildred commented, studying
the overcast sky. "They more resemble dust clouds."
"Nukes," Jak said, frowning, scratching his cheek with the muzzle of his .357
Magnum. The tinted lenses of the sunglasses made the teenager seem even paler
than usual.
"Or a chem storm."
"No spoor, or bones from a kill," Ryan said, kneeling on the ground and
studying the soil for tracks or
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prints.
"Quite right. We seem to be alone, captain, O my captain," Doc said,
holstering his huge blaster. "Our uninvited guest has sought lodgings
elsewhere."
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"Unless it has a nest on another ledge," Krysty suggested, moving away from
the tunnel to check above them. The tunnel opened near the base of a large
outcropping, a mesa actually, the main column of the granite mountain had
shattered into splinters and boulders from some terrible geological event.
"But with all this light, I don't think the night feeder will be out and about
to bother us much." Her voice faded away, then came back strong. "Mother Gaia
protect us!"
Blasters at the ready, the others quickly joined the redhead and stared in
wonderment. Where huge sections of the mesa were gone, smooth sections of a
dull black material could be plainly seen in the shadowy light. The material
wasn't marred or scratched in any way.
"That's the exterior of the redoubt," Ryan said, rubbing his freshly shaved
chin. Then he glanced about.
"This whole area must have been underground before the war."
"Then it became desert, and the winds unearthed the redoubt," Mildred agreed.
"Now we know where that odd tunnel came from," Dean said grimly. "Somebody saw
the base and was trying to gain access."
The elder Cawdor shook his head. "No, that was old tech that built the tunnel.
Those beams were ferroconcrete. That can't be made anymore."
"Yes, sir." The boy nodded, but kept a grip on his blaster.
The sound of a starting engine shattered the early-morning quiet. The
companions dropped into combat positions, with Dean crouching to fire his new
blaster from a kneeling position for greater stability. A
moment later, their Hummer bounced into view with J.B. behind the wheel.
"Everything okay?" he asked suspiciously, one hand strategically out of sight.
"You were taking too long& Dark night! The outside of the redoubt!"
"No other ledges or caves along this face of the mesa," Ryan said, then turned
to stare into the distance.
"Mebbe the mutie came from the ruins."
"Sure seems a lot bigger than it did last night," Dean stated, cradling the
longblaster in his arms, but making sure the muzzle wasn't pointed at anybody.
He had caught hell for accidentally doing that once, and he'd never repeat the
mistake.
"Seems like the buildings reach for miles," Krysty stated.
The darkness had to have masked the true size of the predark city. The [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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