Axler, James - Deathlands 36 by Axler James

Author:Axler, James
Language: eng
Format: epub

Chapter Fourteen

When the door to the cooler creaked open, a shaft of torchlight cut through the gloom. Ryan shielded his face from die blinding glare. Even after his eye adjusted to the light, he couldn't see who was in the doorway. He was too close to the floor, and there were too many iron bars in the way. He could see boots, though. Lots of boots.

A key rattled in the lock of the top cage.

"How'd you like the accommodations?" someone asked from the corridor.

None of Ryan's companions said a word. They didn't want to do anything that might interfere with their getting out of the cooler. When the door was flung back, they crawled through it. Ryan moved closer to the bars. All of his friends were stiff and bent over, Doc the most of all. They groaned and moaned as they straightened for the first time in many hours.

When the sec man in charge stepped back, Ryan recognized him from the old days. Murchisson was no stupe, but he didn't notice the single shackle on J.B.'s right ankle. He stood the other prisoners against the corridor wall, had his men hold them at blasterpoint, then unlocked Ryan's cell.

The one-eyed man crawled out of the filth and rose slowly to his feet.

"Man," Murchisson said, stepping back and covering his nose with a hand, "you need a hose-down. You ail need a hose-down."

Because the iron cuff around Ryan's ankle was covered with reeking muck, the sec chief failed to see it.

"Your stickies didn't show last night, One-eye," Murchisson told him. "Old Elijah was real disappointed.

He was lookin' forward to puttin' a bunch of routie scum on the last train West. He was going to watch the whole deal from his penthouse while drinking beer."

"The baron send out patrols yet?" Ryan asked.

"Sure. So?"

"Hope you kissed them goodbye."

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"Somehow, after last night, that doesn't scare me much," Murchisson said. "What's got into you, Caw-dor? I never figured you for pulling a dumb shot like this. You sick and tired of living?"

When Ryan didn't answer, the sec chief used the muzzle of his Uzi carbine like a cattle prod to urge them in the direction of the elevator. They rounded the dogleg in the hall and came face-to-face with the open elevator car.

To their left, Johnson Lester was standing in front of a closed door labeled Power Plant. Not only had he been stripped of his rank, but everything else he owned. Lester was bare-assed naked. While he tried to cover himself with his hands, three mutie overseers

squabbled over the division of his clothes and personal effects. The squat, hairy-backed bastards weren't satisfied with the pickings.

"This all you got?" one of them shouted into Les-ter's face. He shook the sec man's worn jungle boots in his face. "It ain't enough!"

"Not near enough," said another.

The third overseer opened the power-plant door, and for an instant Ryan and the others could see inside.

The wide room was lit by torches in the walls.

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