Axler, James - Deathlands 06 by Axler James

Author:Axler, James
Language: eng
Format: epub

Chapter Nineteen

THE STEEP-SIDED VALLEY WAS a blaze of color. Tiny yellow flowers of honey mesquite, in dazzling golden banks, smudged around the base of the tumbled buildings. The pale blue of bristly gilia bloomed in a delicate patch along the sides of the dry washes lining the main valley of Sometime Never.

Flame-red desert mallow mingled with clumps of Indian paintbrush wherever the eyes settled.

The scent that lay over everything was that of the ubiquitous yellow creosote bush. Krysty shook her head in wonderment. "Gaia! It's one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen, Ryan. There were quiet valleys a few miles from Harmony, and an abandoned reservoir with cool places, but this is triple-lovely.

You can't blame that old hermit the Apaches spoke about who used to live here and tried to stop anyone ever coming up."

Steps Lightly Moon was just behind them, waiting for Jak to catch up. She heard what the fire-haired woman had said.

"The people do not come here. The spirits are not friendly. Over the years there have been disappearances. Some who went and never returned. There are many deep holes in the hills around."

"Mine shafts," Doc said. "Old workings riddle the land hereabouts. I guess the little girl's speaking the truth. Looks like the townspeople just slipped out for a while and never came back."

It was agreed that they'd recce in pairs. J.B. went along with Jak, Steps Lightly Moon dogging them at every step. Doc and Lori wandered hand in hand, like the lovers they were. Ryan and Krysty began to explore the sun-bleached buildings on both sides of the main street, taking care where they stepped.

Most of the timbers had either rotted or been attacked by hordes of insects.

Sometime Never was a comparatively rare small ville in those late days of the twenty-first century. The nuking hadn't touched the remote valley, and the depredations of the weather hadn't been too severe.

The Southwest of the Deathlands didn't suffer from the screaming gales of two hundred miles an hour and the pitiless acid rain that vomited down from the deeps of violent chem storms.

Everywhere the rough-built shacks showed signs of the long-lost days before the skies burned. As Ryan and Krysty walked up the hill, preceded by the skinny cat, they kept pausing to look at some new chimera from the past.

Triple Scoop Rocky Road Only 2.50. The sign swung off a porch from one hook. The rest of the building had slipped wearily into a narrow ravine at its back.

Rocks, Cristalls, Candels and All Kindsa Rare Qrios. Ryan pushed the door open, the hinges creaking their protest. A small copper bell tinkled a merry greetingbefore the spring broke and it fell silent.

"Anyone home?" Krysty called, her voice dulled by the inches-thick layer of fine red dust that covered everything.

The air in the shack was overwhelmingly hot and stuffy, with an odd lifeless quality to it. Ryan guessed that the last person who'd pushed open the door and rung the little bell had done so nearly a hundred years ago.

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