Early the next morning, Ryan threw open the hatch in the side of the hill, admitting a shaft of bright sunlight into Hammersmith’s lab. “Looks good out there,” he said. “Let’s get a move on.”
The rest of his group was busy cinching straps and tightening buckles on backpacks, checking weapons and filling canteens from the lab’s water supply. As one, they looked and sounded well rested and ready for action, except for Union, who was sluggish and had circles under her eyes.
Ryan watched as everyone finished getting ready and assembled near the hatch. They moved quickly and efficiently, but he was still getting itchy to leave. They had a long march ahead of them, backtracking out of the Devil’s Slaughterhouse. At least they wouldn’t have to split up, now that Krysty had recovered from the piranha-wasp attack and no longer needed to be evacuated from the Shift.
“I guess the good doctor won’t be joining us,” J.B. said, nodding at the door of Hammersmith’s office.
The door, which hadn’t opened all night, looked as tightly sealed as ever. “I guess you’re right.” Apparently, Hammersmith wanted nothing further to do with them. Krysty’s efforts to talk him into going with them to the core had failed to move him.
“Probably for the best.” J.B. headed for the hatch. “Could’ve been a deadweight situation at best, or a major liability at worst.”
“I know you’re right.” Ryan patted him on the shoulder on his way past. “But we still could’ve used his help at the core.”
“Don’t worry.” Mildred was next in line for the hatch. “We’ll make do.”
Ricky came next. “One less civilian to put our asses on the line for.” He grinned and nodded reassuringly.
“Or punch ’cause getting on nerves.” Jak grinned and followed.
“Not everybody comes around in the end.” Krysty paused before stepping through the opening and lightly touched Ryan’s arm. “We help the ones who want to be helped.”
Ryan nodded. Leave it to Krysty to say the right thing, as always.
And leave it to Union to do the opposite when she marched up to the exit. “Hammersmith must know something you don’t,” she said coldly. “Mebbe he knows this is a suicide mission.”
She didn’t wait for Ryan to reply to fold herself through the doorway and step out onto the sandy ground.
Ryan shook his head. “Pain in the ass.” He took one last look at Hammersmith’s closed door, then turned and left the lab. Suicide mission or not, he was determined to do everything in his power to rescue Doc Tanner from the shifters.
If there was one thing Hammersmith had accomplished during his time with them, it was to make Ryan appreciate the group’s own resident eccentric doctor more than ever and recommit himself to getting him back at any cost.
* * *
RICKY WIPED SWEAT from his brow with the back of his hand as he marched through the rising morning heat. It was already a lot warmer than the day before, with no end in sight. The skies were crystal clear in all directions, the air hot and still, the sun a pulsating blotch throwing down wave after punishing wave of soul-melting heat.
As temperamental and downright nasty as Hammersmith had been, Ricky found himself wishing he was back in the cool air of the lab. It wouldn’t have killed them to stay there one more day…unless maybe it would have. It didn’t seem outside the realm of possibility that Hammersmith might have tried to murder them all; that was why someone had stood guard whenever the team had grabbed some shut-eye.
It didn’t matter anymore, though. Hammersmith and his lab were getting farther behind the team with each passing moment.
Ricky wiped the sweat from his brow again, then heard a sharp whistle. Looking left, he saw his partner in manning the point of the group’s formation, the one person who seemed unaffected by the heat.
Union. She gestured left, indicating a change of course, then veered in that direction without waiting for his acknowledgment.
Annoyed, Ricky followed her lead. Checking behind him, he saw the others do the same.
In the mood to pick Union’s brain, Ricky jogged to catch up with her, then matched her pace. “I wonder why we haven’t seen any mutated freak-show animals yet today,” he said.
Union looked at him sideways with the usual disdain bordering on contempt. “Do you want to see them?”
“No way.” Ricky shook his head briskly. “I just wonder if mebbe they’re following us covertly, getting ready to ambush us before we can get out of the Slaughterhouse.”
“Ambush?” Union sniffed. “They’re animals, not marauders.”
“Damn tricky animals, if you ask me,” Ricky replied. “So when do we know we’ve left the Devil’s Slaughterhouse anyway?”
“When I say so.”
“And how do you know?” Ricky asked.
“I just do.” Union quickened her pace, marching out ahead of him.
Ricky accelerated, too, and quickly caught up. “It wouldn’t kill you to be friendly, you know,” he told her. “We’re on the same side here. We might have to save each other’s lives.”
“Friendly?” She frowned at him. “I thought I was being friendly.”
Suddenly, a booming roar burst out of the silence, distant and fast approaching from behind the formation. Back among the marchers, J.B. roared, “Incoming!”
Whirling, Ricky swung up the De Lisle carbine and peered at the segmented horizon that was visible between the scattered hills. He expected to see some kind of monstrous, mutated beast, a final attack from the deranged menagerie of the Devil’s Slaughterhouse.
Instead, he spotted the silhouette of a wheeled vehicle, a war wag with a big square nose. The wag hurtled through gaps between hills, its giant tires churning up sand in great swirling clouds.
Friend or foe? That was the big question in Ricky’s mind as he watched the wag charge toward the team. Unfortunately, the answer would only come when the wag arrived and started shooting…or didn’t.
Heart pounding, Ricky ran through the group to what had been the rear flank. It was now the point, with Ryan and J.B. taking up positions, preparing to mount a defense if it became necessary.
“What are we up against?” Ricky asked.
“Looks like an APC,” J.B. replied. “Armored personnel carrier, affiliation unknown.”
“Shoot first?” Jak had just darted in beside Ricky with his Colt Python raised and ready. “Questions later?”
“Negative,” Ryan snapped. “Wait for my mark!”
The wag continued roaring closer, churning clouds of sand. Sunlight glinted from its tinted black windows, throwing sparks that burned spots in Ricky’s eyes.
“Get ready to scatter if we can’t turn it off course,” Ryan shouted. “We won’t have much time to get out of its way.”
Glancing over his shoulder, Ricky saw that Krysty and Mildred had formed a second row, staggered so they had clear lines of fire through the gaps in the front rank.
But one member of the group was nowhere to be seen, Ricky realized. “Where’s Union?”
“Don’t know and don’t care right now,” Ryan said without looking back. “Bigger fish to fry at the moment.”
It was true enough. The wag was bearing down on them fast.
Ricky braced himself, finger on the trigger of the carbine, aiming at one of the wag’s huge front tires. The rest of the team did the same beside and behind him, chambering rounds, taking aim and tightening their grips on their weapons.
“Here we go!” Ryan shouted. “Get ready!”
The wag continued to race forward. Sweat ran down Ricky’s neck and back as he prepared to take action.
Then, thirty yards out, the wag jolted to a stop. Suddenly, Ricky became less likely to get run over by an APC, though his odds of getting shot at still seemed high.
Like the others in his group, he kept his weapon aimed and ready to fire. He didn’t take his eyes off the wag for a second; it had no visible external blasters, but someone could pop out of the vehicle at any time with ordnance in hand.
“Come out of there!” Ryan called. “Reach for the sky!”
As if on cue, the driver’s door sprang open. Ricky fully expected to see the barrel of a blaster or grenade launcher poke out of that cover, aimed in their direction, but for a moment, he saw nothing.
Then he saw the fingers of one hand grip the edge of the door. Another hand caught the door frame, and then a head appeared as the wag’s driver boosted himself up from inside the vehicle.
Ricky’s eyes shot wide with surprise. The driver was pretty much the last person they expected to see.
“Really?” It was Dr. Hammersmith, shouting back with his usual disgruntled attitude. “Not only do I decide to rejoin your suicide brigade, but I bring along a damn war wag, and this is the shit you give me?”
“For all we knew, you were coming to kill us,” Ryan snapped. Ricky noticed he hadn’t lowered his blaster yet.
“Why in seven shades of hell would I kill you before you help me reach my objectives?” Hammersmith asked. “There’ll be plenty of time for that later!”
“You’re assuming we want you to join up with us,” Ryan said. “Let me tell you, that’s a hell of a big assumption!”
“Then, maybe you ought to just shoot me and take the wag!” Hammersmith replied. “At least then mebbe you’ll act as though you’ve got some balls.”
For a moment, Ricky thought Ryan looked as if he wanted to pull the trigger. But then he lowered his Steyr Scout longblaster.
As the rest of the group followed his example, Ryan posed a question. “Who wants to go for a ride with this lunatic?”
“Depends,” J.B. said, and then he raised his voice so Hammersmith could hear him. “Is he at least gonna try to act civil?”
“Hell no!” Hammersmith snapped. “I’ll probably be crankier, since I’m doing this against my better judgment!”
J.B. looked at Ryan. “Do we have a choice?”
Ryan shook his head. “Those bastards who took Doc are way out ahead of us. Mebbe the wag gives us a chance to catch up.”
J.B. scowled and blew out his breath. “Damn. Doc better appreciate this.”
“If he’s even still alive, he will,” Ryan told him, and then he looked around the group. “Anyone not riding?”
No one spoke up or raised a hand.
“What about Union?” Ryan frowned as he looked for her.
“Sign me up,” Union said as she strolled out from behind a hill, looking slightly disheveled. “As long as Hammershit stays away from me.” Ricky didn’t have to see the auburn braid to know Rhonda was in charge.
The real mystery was where Union had been for the past few minutes, but Ricky figured he had zero chance of finding an answer for that one.
“I’ll stay clear of you if you stay clear of me,” Hammersmith said, then added, “Bitch.”
“All right, then.” Ryan started for the wag and waved for the others to follow. “Enough pissing around. Let’s pile in that thing and get where we’re going.”
“Hammershit.” Jak chuckled and elbowed Ricky. “Good one, huh?”
“And please.” Ryan glared at them over his shoulder. “Don’t antagonize this dick.”
“You just did,” shouted Hammersmith, who’d heard every word. “And furthermore, fuck off, all of you!”
Ryan grinned at Jak and Ricky. “Let me take care of the antagonizing for you,” he said.
“Good enough,” Jak agreed. “Always enjoy watching master work.”
“Now saddle up, people!” Ryan shouted. “We’ve got a bastard load of ground to cover!”