Lost Gates. James Axler

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СКАЧАТЬ until it came up against what had once been a disguised doorway. Concrete, receding into the earth, and roughly seven yards in diameter, it was now as plain as the dawning day—the entrance to a redoubt.

      “Thought that might make you jump,” the squat man observed as he closely watched the companions’ reactions. Despite themselves, all except Jak had registered some sense of surprise. The albino teen had remained impassive, as ever, despite his inner feelings echoing those of his friends.

      Ryan’s jaw set hard. He should have expected this. There had been hints in what Valiant had said before they had been drugged. Crabbe had pieced together a kind of history. He knew some facts, had made leaps of imagination between others, but had the basic ideas. There had to be a reason why the story grabbed him. Why not because he had found his own, personal redoubt?

      So where was this going to lead them?

      The squat sec boss’s face broke into a grin. “Yeah, the looks on your faces, I’d say that names and shit aside, Crabbe knew what he was looking for. And that cob-up-his-ass jerk-off Valiant is a lot smarter than I’d give him credit for. Looks like his people are halfway to the rest of that jack.”

      With a gesture, he bade them to start down the slope. It was dry and dusty, the loose earth rising in clouds around them and making it hard to keep a foothold. Small rocks and stones turned at their ankles and slipped away from under their feet. Each of them was concentrating too closely on keeping their own footing to notice that the sec force surrounding them had spread out a little to allow them more room.

      With good reason—the squat man knew what would happen, and wanted to keep his own people out of the way of the impact. Choked and blinded by the dust that rose around them, ropes pulling at ankles forced apart by slipping feet, balance proved to be an impossibility. Doc was, inevitably, the first to go. His feet shot out from under him and he fell heavily, rolling on his hip and pivoting sideways.

      Despite catching him from the corner of her eye, and trying her best to avoid being taken down by his falling frame, Mildred couldn’t move her own feet quickly enough. A combination of uncertain terrain and limbs dulled by constriction made her clumsy where usually she would be sure.

      The pair began to tumble down the incline, gathering momentum and dislodging earth and stone as they fell. It made the ground around them begin to move. For J.B., Ryan and Krysty—all of them, like Doc and Mildred, disabled to a degree by the binding and constriction of their limbs—it made things that much harder. The already unsteady ground beneath their feet was now treacherous, and the way in which Doc and Mildred had fallen made it that much more apparent that it would be all too easy for each to follow.

      All of the sec men had fallen back so that they were at the rear of the group. They were surer on their feet, partly because they were unshackled, and also because they were able to pick their way around unsettled terrain with greater ease. They took the pace more slowly—no need to hurry when your captives were in no condition to make a break.

      The only exception to any of this was Jak. The albino youth was always fleet and sure of foot. Even with the remnants of the drug in his system, and his ankles still partially numb from their binding, he was able to pick up speed, nimbly jumping the larger rocks that sought to disturb his balance. He rode the scree of stone and earth that began to move like a river beneath him, using the currents within it and adapting his own rhythms to run with it. When he reached the bottom of the sharp drop, bringing himself to a halt before he hit the remains of the black ribbon, he turned and looked back up the incline.

      The sec force were three-quarters of the way down, picking its way carefully over the wake of the companions’ descent. The sun had now risen enough to light their way with ease. They were strung out in a line, with the squat, bearded sec chief in the center.

      He stopped short when he saw that Jak was glaring at him. Their eyes met, and in the early light of morning the albino’s red eyes glowed with a passion that he usually kept masked. A shiver ran down the squat man’s spine. The albino teen had said nothing, and his face remained fixed. But those eyes said it all—if ever he had the chance, he would take vengeance for this humiliation on himself and his friends.

      By the time the sec force had reached the bottom, Jak had long since turned away. He helped Ryan to his feet, and then between them they assisted the others to right themselves. Limbs ached and were bruised, there were a few contusions, but there was no major damage. Mildred murmured that she would tend to the wounds when her hands were freed. Ryan wondered why the sec men had been content to watch them fall.

      When he looked toward the exposed concrete of the redoubt tunnel, there was an answer. There was a wag to one side that hadn’t been there before. As the area around was flat and open, and they had seen nothing approaching for several miles from their initial vantage point at the top of the incline, it could only have come from inside the redoubt. That impression was reinforced by the way in which the men standing on either side of the wag were dressed. There were three of them, two on the left, one on the right. Two cradled Kalashnikovs, while the third was carrying an SMG of some sort. At this distance, even J.B. couldn’t tell the model. But it was a blaster, nonetheless. As was the canon mounted on the back of the wag. No one was manning it at present, but it looked capable of serious damage over serious distance.

      No wonder the sec force following them was in no great hurry.

      The sec men from the incline reached the bottom and fanned out to cover them once more. The three men by the wag, two with rifles, began to move forward to reach their compatriots. The man with the SMG slung it and climbed up onto the back of the wag, covering them.

      “You’re taking no chances,” Ryan observed wryly as the sec boss approached.

      The squat man shrugged. “You should be proud, Brian or Ryan. Shows we take you seriously.”

      “I’ll remember that next time I see a shitload of blasters ready to take me out when I’m unarmed. Makes me feel real proud.”

      The squat man grinned. “I could grow to like you, Brian…if I could be bothered. Now get moving.”

      He gestured to them to move. Slowly, the captive group moved toward the entrance to the redoubt. Seeing that their guards were in control, the two sec men from the wag returned to it, one of them getting behind the wheel and firing up the engine. He maneuvered the vehicle so that it faced the redoubt entrance, the SMG on its back swiveling with the movement so that it always kept the captives covered.

      The companions walked slowly up to the redoubt doors, which stayed resolutely shut.

      “So what now?” the one-eyed man asked, turning to the sec boss.

      “Little test for you,” he called. “See if you’re who we think.”

      “I thought you knew that,” Ryan countered.

      The sec boss laughed, a short, barking cough. “Reckon I do. But mebbe Crabbe would like more proof. He suggested this, and who am I to go against my baron? Now stop fucking about and open the doors. If you are who we think, then you’ll know how to do it.”

      “And if we’re not?”

      “You’d be triple stupe to try and bluff it out, if that’s what you’re thinking. We’ll just chill you now, and not waste any more time.”

      Ryan surveyed the sec force facing them. All were armed. And then there was the SMG.

      They’d do it, all right. He was certain of that.

      “J.B.,” СКАЧАТЬ