Deathlands 50 - Pandora's Reboubt by James Axler

Author:James Axler
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-02-10T16:44:10+00:00

Chapter Twelve

The door closed with an echoing boom. The spotlessly clean walls were now splattered with gore, and a ragged thing of mostly bones hung from the ropes above the clogged grating. In the, corner, the water hose was still neatly coiled, completely unused.

"God almighty, that was a bad one," Shard said from his cell, a tremor breaking his voice. He leaned his forehead against the bars and closed his eyes at last. "They must really want you folks."

"They have our vehicle," Ryan told him, his stomach an aching empty void, the sour taste of bile in his mouth. The stink in the dungeon was beyond describing. "But they don't know how to operate and maintain the equipment."

"Radar is pretty much magic in these fine days of clubs and arrows," Doc said. The elderly man leaned against the cold stone wall. "I thought I was going mad a few times, and actually wished I would slip away to another time."

"Me, too," Jak stated. The albino teen was staring at the floor. concentrating on his breathing. "Killed before. Lots times. But nothing like...that."

"It was pathological," Mildred uttered in barely controlled fury. "Madness! That eunuch is a sadist of the highest order."

Finished with a prayer for the dead, Krysty asked, "When will they be returning? For us."

"Tomorrow. We sleep with the mess tonight," Shard said, slumping to the hard floor. "Then in the morning we gotta clean it up, and you go see the ward."

In spite of himself, Ryan admired the technique. This would soften the minds of most people. The dead man's screams and pleas for death were still ringing in his ears. But his friends had seen worse. "J.B., let's get out of here."

Slipping off a boot, J.B. wriggled out of his sock and groped about in the vomit on the floor. "Good thing barfing was allowed. I was afraid we'd have to wait till it worked its way out my other end."

"What did you swallow?" Mildred asked, perking up. "A lockpick?"

"Yep. While the bikers were attacking. I figured it couldn't hurt."

"Good thinking."

Stubby toes worked in the slime. "Dark night, it's too slippery. I can't get a grip."

Dean hawked and spit, hitting the tiny sliver of steel amid the semidigested military rations.

"Good shot," Ryan said, watching the door. "Try again."

"What's the hurry?" Shard asked, gripping the bars. "We're here for the night."

"The sooner we leave, the more distance we can get between us and this bastard pesthole."

"Got it," J.B. announced, lifting the pick into view. Groaning with the strain, he raised his leg inch by inch, higher and higher. "Can't hold on much longer- Shit!"

The lockpick tumbled from his grasp, spinning for the floor. It bounced once and Krysty kicked it gently with her cowboy boot. The steel probe lofted high and landed flat in Jak's outstretched palm. He wiped it dry on his shirt and tossed it to J.B. The Armorer made the catch easily and started on his manacles. A second later, there was a click and the cuff fell off.

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