The companions rested, then spent a whole day taking inventory and planning their next move. Another good night’s sleep refreshed them enough to tackle the unknown that lay beyond the redoubt. They knew from preliminary recces that the levels were intact up to the surface, that the maps and charts on the walls of some of the offices and comp rooms suggested they were in the northwest of the Deathlands, an area prone to erratic climatic and temperate conditions. All levels to the final exit door were known territory: what lay beyond was in question.
Which was how they found themselves gathered in the kitchen area, waiting for their last meal, Doc’s impatience and anxiety expressed in the way he once again sang old snatches of half-remembered songs and poems.
“How long before we eat? I’m getting antsy waiting down here,” J.B. muttered.
“Yeah—get going. See what face,” Jak agreed.
“It’ll be ready when it’s ready, like everything is,” Ryan commented flatly.
“It’s not like you to get all philosophical on us,” Mildred said with a note of surprise she couldn’t quite disguise.
Ryan shrugged. “Had some time to think, and I’ve had a lot to think about. But, fuck it, you just have to keep on, right?”
“If you say so, lover,” Krysty said gently. “But it doesn’t mean we should give up.”
“Give up what?” Ryan asked. The clearness of his good eye as he fixed it on her betrayed that he was genuinely confused as to her meaning. Was she saying to never give up on looking for Dean, or did she mean never give up on their quest? But what use was looking for the promised land when he would never be settled inside?
“Give up on anything…on each other,” Krysty said.
There was little else to say. Ryan knew she was right. If nothing else, the companions had to look out for one another. They had been through too much together and lost too many friends along the way for it to be any other way.
He nodded. Brief, but enough. “You’re right. Let’s eat, get ourselves together and get out there.”
Within an hour they were ready to go. At least an hour remained until, by their estimation of the time zone, the light would be good enough to call it daybreak.
“Dark night, let’s not leave it any longer. Even if it means watching the sunrise, I need to get out of this pesthole,” J.B. said irritably.
They used the elevators to move them through the base, unwilling to expend unnecessary energy now that they were laden for the journey ahead. There was a silence over the group as they entered the elevator that would take them to the top level. Mildred, looking around at the companions, felt that it would benefit them to get out of the redoubt and into whatever was outside. Action would break the torpor that hung over them.
However, whatever was outside, in fact, was their next problem.
Knowing they were in the northwest, and that the earth and rock around the redoubt hadn’t suffered from shock waves and tremors, they knew little about what was beyond the exit door. As they left the elevator and moved up the gentle incline toward the thick, reinforced exit door, the unknown began to assume importance. Would the exit be blocked by a rockfall? Were they in a valley, or up the side of a hill where the scree may have eroded and thus leave them stranded? Was the redoubt entrance under water? What was waiting on the outside?
There was no way of knowing until the lever was pressed, and the door began to rise. There were outside sec cams, but they had long since ceased to function as a result of the nuclear winter following skydark.
Ryan waited by the lever to the main door as the last set of interior sec doors ground shut. When they had closed, the companions were standing within a shallow channel of space. The reasoning was simple. If there was danger, they could defend the channel until the outer sec door was closed again, thus eliminating any risk of an enemy gaining access to the labyrinthine redoubt, indefensible with the small force they had at their disposal. Natural dangers were another matter.
“You realize that if there’s water out there, you’re going to have to be pretty damn quick,” Mildred said as Ryan prepared to open the door. “The pressure if we’re below sea level will shoot it through the gap…”
Ryan agreed. “We should have enough time to get the door closed before this fills up,” he said flatly. “Anyway, chances are it won’t be under water. The tunnels would be fucked with that much pressure, and there’s no sign of dampness or leakage.”
Mildred nodded. Ryan was right. There hadn’t been signs usual of a high water table and they had rarely seen a redoubt with less stress damage or water infiltration. Nonetheless, there was a worry nagging at her that Ryan wasn’t one hundred percent on the ball right now.
“Okay, triple-red and in position,” Ryan said as he moved to press the lever, which they all knew was usually Dean’s job.
The companions fanned out on either side of the sec door. Krysty and Jak lined up behind Ryan. The one-eyed man had unholstered his SIG-Sauer, which he held in his left hand as he pressed the lever with his right. Jak had his .357 Magnum Colt Python to hand, while Krysty had her .38-caliber Smith & Wesson ready for action.
On the far side of the channel, J.B. took the front position, choosing to shoulder his M-4000, which, with its load of barbed-metal fléchettes, would wreak havoc on any flesh-and-blood enemy who may be lying in wait. Behind him, Mildred was ready with her Czech-made ZKR 551 target pistol. It wouldn’t cause as wide a range of damage as J.B.’s blaster, but with Mildred’s crackshot ability it was just as effective. Doc took the rear. The most vulnerable of the companions because of the mental and physical battering he had taken, he nonetheless had a streak of sheer granite will within him that would always make him a formidable opponent. If nothing else, he had his LeMat percussion pistol, which had the ability to inflict maximum damage on anything hostile that approached.
Ryan pressed hard on the lever and the outer door began to grind and open slowly. There was no inrush of water. Neither was there a trickle of rock and gravel to presage a landfall to indicate they were blocked in by rock.
As the door opened wider, the light from the redoubt tunnel flooded onto the land beyond. Dawn hadn’t yet broken, and Ryan cursed under his breath, knowing that the light streaming from the redoubt made them an easy target. He released the lever and flattened himself against the wall, motioning to the others to do likewise.
From what he had seen before pulling back, the land beyond the redoubt entrance was barren and flat, and there was a track that led from the door to the level ground. It was a shallow incline, and the dust on the track was undisturbed, suggesting that no one had been sniffing around the redoubt entrance for a long time.
He tried to still his breathing and to listen, straining for any noises that may betray anyone waiting in ambush, but he could hear nothing. He looked at Jak. The albino youth’s hunting senses were so finely honed that he had an almost preternatural grasp of the natural world around him. Jak shook his head briefly. He could neither hear nor smell anything dangerous out there. Ryan then looked at Krysty. With her doomie sense, her sentient hair would curl tightly and protectively to her scalp if there was imminent danger. The Titian mane was free-flowing.
The one-eyed man signaled across to the Armorer. They would move out, covered by their companions, and recce the area. He counted to three and signaled.
The two men rolled under the partly open door and hit the dirt outside the redoubt at the same moment, temporarily blind to the area beyond the arc of light as their eyes adjusted to the surrounding gloom. Ryan went left, J.B. right. Both held their blasters ready to fire at the least provocation.
Ryan felt the ground give beneath his feet. It was hard-packed dirt, suggesting that the area was dry, but there was a soft top layer, almost like dust, which made him feel that the place in which they had landed was like a desert.