Land Beyond the Map: Keys to the Dimensions Book 1 by Kenneth Bulmer

Author:Kenneth Bulmer [Bulmer, Kenneth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780575122246
Publisher: Orion Publishing Group
Published: 2011-09-29T06:00:00+00:00

VII

AT FIRST they didn’t realize what happened next. Then, when the soft white flakes began to drift silently into the car and disappear into tiny patches of moisture, gleaming in the sun, they had to accept it.

“It’s snowing!” Crane said, and was surprised he could still feel surprise, here in this maniacal other world.

Polly had regained her usual poise and Crane felt a quick stab of admiration for her unalloyed by his habitual sense of inferiority toward her. She put a hand to her hair and shivered as the snow built up with unbelievable speed, so that a carpet of white covered everything outside.

“If this is what it was like a million years ago then I’m glad I wasn’t born then.”

“No. We weren’t born then. But we are there—now.”

“If we’re there. We don’t know where we are.”

“Except that we’re in the Map Country.”

“Yes. The Map Country.” Polly’s voice held steadily.

Crane decided he’d better show a little spirit.

“And it cost a cool hundred thousand.”

Polly didn’t laugh. But she said: “Plus the hotel and crossing’ expenses and the hire of the car.”

“The car!” said Crane. He ducked his head fast and checked. “We’ve less than half a tank left.”

“You’ve only just thought of that?”

“Yes.” He kicked himself mentally very thoroughly. The lack of fuel would have been a trump card to have played in persuading her to turn back to their own normal world.

“Hadn’t we better think about—?” he began uneasily.

“Our pal’s catching up,” said Polly crisply, looking in the rear view mirror.

Crane sighed. “Okay, okay. Just a minute.”

He opened the door and stepped out onto crunchy snow. The road had quietened down now although the ground beyond still rose and fell uneasily. He waited until the tank was at the optimum range and then tossed the grenade very accurately. He ducked.

When he looked up after the blast the tank had fallen on its side off the road and its starboard arms were going up and down with the movement of the ground. A wisp of smoke rose from it. After the noise the silence hung menacingly, broken only by an ominous hissing from the wrecked tank. Again Crane felt he should exert himself. Polly was so much of a personality, so tough, so dominating, mentally even more than physically, so independent and youthfully modern a character.

He said: “I think I’ll take a closer look at that clanking monster.” He used the old name deliberately. “Hold on.”

He wasn’t surprised when she joined him. Together they walked across the snow-covered road, leaving large and splodgy footprints. It was not at all cold now and the snow gradually ceasing had no power to lay. Their feet rang hard on the old road surface by the time they reached the wreck.

The hissing noise had stopped.

“Something hot against the snow,” surmised Polly.

Crane walked up the road to the tank warily, wishing he had a gun and yet recognizing the weak fallibility of that.

“Yes,” he said, not taking his eyes off the machine.

The body, he could see

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