The nature of the trees and grasses changed: softer and shorter underfoot, with boles and trunks that had a shape, height and width that was more like the kinds of growths they had seen in other areas.
‘I figure the water and the fruits must be edible here,’ Ryan mused. ‘It keeps these damn insects going,’ he added, batting away thirsty midges that dive-bombed his neck.
‘We want to be careful about that,’ Mildred cautioned. ‘It’s possible that whatever lives here has some kind of tolerance to whatever’s in the soil. It can’t be as bad as back there, as at least it does support life. But it might be too much for us.’
‘In effect, my dear Doctor, we are in the same position—do not drink the water and stick to the interminable self-heats,’ Doc mumbled. ‘It is nothing more than the same thing all over. No change. Perhaps it would have been better if you’d let me go as I had wished—or perhaps had come with me.’
‘Doc, don’t start on that again.’ Krysty sighed. ‘It wouldn’t have been any better if you’d got back to the north, and it could have been a whole lot worse. Who knows where you would have ended up.’
‘Somewhere without a poisonous forest, perhaps,’ Doc replied sharply.
‘Dark night, will you stop going on about it, Doc,’ J.B. muttered wearily. ‘For the last two days, all you’ve done is moan. It’s like you want to wear us down and make us admit we were wrong. But what the hell good would that do?’
‘None,’ Doc snapped bitterly. ‘It would do none as it’s too late to turn back. But don’t think that I won’t take another option if I can find it. With or without you.’
They hadn’t heard him be this openly antagonistic before. It was as though the quietness of their progress over the past few days had done little for the old man except give him the time to brood on the wrong he thought they had wrought him. He had made no point to leave them and turn back, as though at least some part of him knew the futility of this; but at the same time there was little doubt that the thought of getting back to the people he considered his destiny was something that was looming larger still in his thoughts.
Which was something that could become a major problem if left unchecked. But for the moment, Ryan was thankful that it was all they had to be concerned about.
They continued for the best part of a day, their progress impeded by the need for caution. Most of the mammalian life in the woodlands was small: squirrels, rabbits, other rodents, some of which showed signs of the long-lasting toxic effects of the nearby ground by their mutations. None of the creatures were that big, and were misshapen, though not enough to stop them from surviving adequately in the woods. They were helped in this by the fact that nothing large seemed able to survive and prosper in the immediate environment. The birds, likewise, were all small. The flitted from tree to tree, always staying just enough out of sight to prevent themselves from becoming a target either to the companions or to the lower level life-forms.
The trees and plants were hung with a variety of fruits that differed from those in the contaminated area in as much as they were smaller, less hideously malformed and had duller colorings. They also showed signs of being eaten by the fauna of the woods.
Nonetheless, taking heed of what Mildred had said earlier, they refrained from partaking of the fruits, or hunting any of the small animals and birds, setting a fire to keep the rodents at bay as night fell, and relying on their dwindling supplies of food and water.
‘By my reckoning, even though we’ve slowed down, we should be able to hit the coast by tomorrow night, the morning after at most,’ J.B. told them after they had eaten. ‘We just need to keep on this heading. Just as well we’re past those shit strange mutie trees.’
It was an optimistic, contented group who settled for the night, Ryan taking first watch. Not that there was much to take note of. The birds had settled for the night and the only sounds were of some nocturnal rodents hunting in the undergrowth. Although nominally alert, Ryan allowed himself to relax slightly. There was nothing out there to disturb their rest or to impede their progress.
The following day, he felt, they would make good time.
WITHIN A FEW HOURS of breaking camp and setting off for the coast, he knew that his assumption of the night before had been incorrect. It wasn’t something that could be put into words, but there were signs that a major change was ahead of them. Although the landscape around them remained the same—certainly showing no signs of deterioration into the contaminated state they had first encountered—the sounds and signs of life began to fade away. There were fewer birds and insects, less scuttling in the long grasses or flashes of fur as the smaller mammals turned away from the intruders in their land.
‘Something’s changed,’ Ryan said softly. ‘But what?’
Jak was doing a recon and he returned. Ryan repeated his question. The albino shrugged. ‘Nothing. Trees same, ground same. But no animals, no birds. Something scaring them away, but not anything seen.’
‘Fireblast, this is what I hate more than anything. Give me an enemy that you can see any fuckin’ day. Triple red from now on,’ he said, shrugging the Steyr from his shoulder and chambering a round.
‘You want me to recce ahead?’ Jak asked.
Ryan shook his head, his single ice-blue eye glittering as he surveyed the land around. ‘No. This might not be something we can see that easily. If it can scare the wildlife away, then it might not be as simple as a single enemy we can see.’
‘By the Three Kennedys, you’re not suggesting that we may be up against some kind of supernatural agency?’ Doc asked, his voice suspended uncertainly between fear and a desire to mock.
‘Nothing as simple. Whatever’s cleared this area has a wide sweep and has mebbe been doing it for a while. Notice the smell, anything else?’ he asked.
‘No spoor,’ Jak said. ‘No half-eaten fruit or plant. Been deserted a long time.’
‘Yeah, that’s what I figure. So we keep together, we keep going, hope we don’t meet it—whatever it is—and we stay triple alert on this, okay?’
Blasters poised, they tightened formation and fell into line. It was hard, not knowing exactly what it was that they needed to protect themselves against: all they knew was that the danger was nearer than before, if less palpable. Their pace decreased, as well, so that it seemed they were making no progress at all.
So far, they had been blessed with excellent weather during their trek. The skies above the canopy had remained clear, the temperature almost humid. This now grated, as the sweat of concentration and fear began to gather upon them, running in slow rivulets down their skin, collecting in pools in the small of the back, under the arms, behind the knees. They were itchy and uncomfortable, the irritation adding to their mounting tetchiness.
It was therefore, perhaps, fortunate that they didn’t have to wait long before the silence was broken. After only an hour’s slow crawl, they became aware of something approaching them, head-on.
Jak caught first hearing and Krysty’s mutie sense echoed his own acute senses, her hair coiling protectively and the dread rising in her. The enemy—whoever or whatever it may be—was approaching so quickly that it became audible to the others before either Jak or Krysty had a chance to verbalize their forebodings.
‘What the hell is that?’ Mildred whispered.
‘I’d say there’s at least a half dozen of whoever it is, and they haven’t had much need to use stealth up to now,’ J.B. commented wryly as the noise reached them.
‘Take cover,’ Ryan commanded. ‘See how many of these sons of gaudys there are.’
The woodland provided ample cover. There were no paths