James Axler - Hellbenders

And then, just when she thought that he was about to fade again, his eyes snapped open, the clear blue orbs immediately focused on her.

“By the Three Kennedys,” he whispered hoarsely, “I do believe we’ve arrived safely once more. Perhaps we should stick around, see what’s happening.”

Ryan looked at Krysty. The ends of her hair were wispy tendrils that began to flutter, as though from the slightest breeze.

There was no movement in the air.

Her green eyes caught his and fixed them with an intent stare. “I don’t know,” she said hesitantly, with an almost unconscious shake of her head. “I just can’t tell right now. I think there’s something. It’s not danger exactly, more a kind of…distant threat.”

The one-eyed man nodded crisply. He trusted Krysty’s almost doomielike feelings, and particularly the early-warning system of her hair, which he had come to know over their time together to be an arbiter of threats that she herself may have little idea of.

“Triple red, friends,” he cautioned, inclining his head to J.B. The Armorer nodded in return, moving toward the back of the group. They would follow their usual formation: Ryan would lead from the front, followed by Krysty and Jak. Doc, as the most immediately vulnerable, would be kept in the middle, followed by Dean and Mildred. J.B. brought up the rear, and was skilled in the art of keeping their asses covered. Nothing had gotten past the man.

And it seemed as though there would be little to trouble that reputation in this redoubt. Ryan opened the door and stood back. Exiting a chamber into an unknown environment could always be a risk. He lowered his breathing so that the very sound of his central nervous system seemed to deaden within, allowing him to better detect any noises that might come from outside the chamber. His eye flickered across the narrow scope of fire afforded by the door. He could hear or see nothing. Turning his head, he could see Krysty. Her sentient hair hadn’t moved, and her steady gaze told him of no danger. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at Jak. The albino hunter had also stilled his breathing, his every sense concentrated on detecting signs of life.

Jak suddenly opened his blood-red orbs, the fire in them burning strong now that he had recovered from the effects of the jump. He shook his head almost imperceptibly.

Ryan, satisfied that there was little danger, but still prepared for any action, tensed his steel-coiled muscles and eased through the door. He had the Steyr up and searching, but the area appeared to be clean. At Ryan’s command, his companions left the chamber and filed through the anteroom and into the comp control room.

“No signs of life in here,” Ryan began, “but what about outside, lover?”

Krysty pursed her lips. “Something, but not right around here. We need to keep it triple red, though.”

J.B. and Jak both looked up at the ceiling together.

“Sec cameras?” the Armorer asked.

“Uh-huh,” Jak grunted in reply. “Never know.”

As they both looked around, they could see the old vid cameras, but noticed that the winking red lights that usually indicated a working camera were extinguished on all.

“That’s good,” J.B. commented. “No one’s gonna be expecting us.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that,” Dean said softly.

“Why?” J.B. asked, looking over to where Dean had wandered. The youth was near the exit door to the unit, hunkered down and examining something on the floor.

“Take a look at this,” Dean said, picking an object off the floor and carrying it over to the rest of the group.

“A self-heat,” Mildred said as she got a better glimpse of the object.

It was, indeed, a self-heat. Most redoubts had large supplies of these vacuum-packed foods, sealed in such a way that unwrapping them triggered a reaction in the packaging that heated the food within. They usually tasted terrible, but were always good to plunder from the redoubts as they were manufactured with the preDark sec forces in mind, and so had an emphasis on nutritional and energy value over actual taste. They were invaluable. During their time together, the companions had become all too familiar with the self-heats.

“More than just that,” Dean replied. “Take a look at it…a close look.”

Doc leaned forward, squinting as he tried to focus hard on the crumpled package. He extended a finger and prodded delicately at the package. He then withdrew his hand and rubbed ruminatively at his fingertip with his other hand.

“Now, that is interesting,” he mused softly. “I would not say that it was as recent as today or yesterday, but the remains of that self-heat are dryish but still with a residue of moisture. Enough to put it, in these hermetic conditions, as recently as a week.”

“Company, then,” Ryan said simply. “They may not be around now, but they aren’t going to be far away. Form up and we’ll move out. Hopefully they’ll have scavenged and then gone, leaving us with at least the chance to take a shower, mebbe some fresh clothes and grab some sleep.”

“When was the last time we got that lucky?” Mildred commented wryly.

Ryan allowed himself the briefest flash of humor before shouldering the Steyr and unholstering his pistol.

“Okay, people, you know the drill,” he said firmly as they fell into line behind him.

Ryan punched in the 3-5-7 sec code, waiting as the door lifted. Behind him, the others readied themselves for action at any second.

But the corridor beyond the door was still and empty. Ryan stepped out, covering both sides with the SIG-Sauer. He could see nothing along the hundred-yard stretch of corridor in each direction, one end terminating in an elevator, the other in a gently curving bend. He moved into a defensive position behind one of the concrete support pillars that helped to shore up the deep earthworks of the redoubt against the vast pressure of the earth above that bore down on the honeycombed structure.

“Seems quiet,” he said softly, beckoning the others to join him. “Reckon we’ll be better off taking the tunnel and working our way up rather than try the elevator. Safer.”

“Yeah, if there is anyone around, they’ll soon be on to us if we get it creaking into action,” Mildred concurred, looking at the elevator doors. “At least this way we can keep quiet.”

“I don’t think we’ll need to,” Krysty said. “Whatever the problem is, it’s not people.”

“Somehow, my dear Krysty, I find that not in the slightest whit reassuring,” Doc remarked as he peered toward the curve in the tunnel.

“Stay close on triple-red, people.”

They walked carefully along the corridor, rounding the bend in a formation that hugged the wall to keep as much cover as possible. As they did so, they all noticed the unearthly quiet of the redoubt.

“Something’s not right,” Ryan said as they paused. “Look at this…” he continued, indicating a part of the wall that seemed to have been recently—and clumsily—repaired. It was a large, irregular circle, and seemed to have been filled in and then not finished properly. There was also an old girder, salvaged from some other part of the redoubt, used farther along their route to shore up yet another section of the wall. And on the floor, surrounding the rough work, were signs of recent habitation—a water canteen left behind, some self-heats and a pool of congealed oil that hadn’t yet fully soaked into the concrete floor.

“Gotta be some people around to have done this—and fairly recently,” J.B. added. “So where are they?”

As if in mocking answer to his question, the tunnel around them seemed to vibrate through its very center, growing more intense in a matter of seconds until the floor was shaking beneath their feet.