Crater Lake. JAMES AXLER

“We’re always careful, aren’t we, Finn?” Ryan asked.

The stocky mercenary winked. “Sure. Do bears shit in the fucking woods, huh?”

But there were no bears in the abandoned gas station.

It was a single-story building, two-thirds of it given over to a workshop, the rest an office. The sliding door to the work area was closed, but a smaller, half-glass door was open. Ryan approached it, while Finn and J.B. went around the outside. Only when they’d circled the building, reporting that it looked deserted and safe, did he risk entry.

The hinges creaked and broken glass crunched underfoot. Animals or humans had apparently stripped the place bare. A pile of windblown dried leaves from the aspens across the blacktop rested in one corner. There was an open cash register on a counter and an empty Coke tin against the far wall.

“Through here?” Finn said, pointing to the far door that probably opened into the workshop.

“Sure. Slow and easy,” Ryan warned. “Krysty. You and Jak stay here and keep watch outside. Not a good place to get caught in.”

In a narrow corridor there were two rest rooms marked Guys and Dolls in faded blue paint. Finn pushed each door open.

“Shouldn’t you have knocked? Might have been someone in the ladies’ room,” J.B. said.

Finn shook his head. “Anyone still in there from the time of the long chill would have the worst case of shit-block in the history of the fucking world.”

There was nobody there.

Nor in the workshop. In the dim half-light of the gathering dusk, they could see that all the tools had been removed from their places on long wooden racks. The floor was stained with long-dried pools of lube oil. The five of them stood for several long, silent moments. “Shame it’s empty,” J.B. said.

“You were hoping for a mint-condition Cadillac with velvet upholstery, all greased and ready to drive away?” Ryan said, grinning. His grin spread when the Armorer threw him the finger.

“Let’s go back now. This place smells deader’n a beaver hat,” Ryan said. “Keep a single guard, tight perimeter outside.”

“Sure,” J.B. agreed. “Could do with a fire in here. Coupla broken window up high’ll take out smoke.”

From one of his sewn pockets, Jak removed some matches, dry-sealed. But there was precious little wood to burn. Outside there were some sizable branches that would go well once they had a fire blazing, but they needed some kind of kindling.

Lori pointed to an old calendar on the office wall, above the till. The years had bleached away its color, but it still showed the month of January 2001. “A small token of appreciation to Grannoch Pass Service Station from the suppliers of Xanthus Power Tools” was printed on it, beneath a sepia picture of the interior of a Victorian mansion. Doc stood in front of it, and Ryan joined him.

“Thinking how well that’d burn, Doc?”

To his surprise, he saw that the old man was weeping, silent tears coursing through the gray stubble on his lined cheeks.

“Hey, Doc, what’s wrong?”

“What’s up, Doc, is what you should say, Ryan. That was the old joke. Buggy the Bunny, he was called. Something like that. I’m sorry. You must forgive an old fool’s streak of maudlin sentimentality. It’s the picture.”

“You mean like wanting old times back?”

“More than you know, my dear fellow. Oh, more than you know. That picture brings back such a flood of memories. Oh, the days and evenings with dear Emily.”

“Who’s Emily?”

They were alone. The others were scavenging around outside before darkness made it too dangerous to move in the open. Ryan looked up at the calendar, wondering what had triggered the old-timer off on one of his lack-brained trips into the past.

The calendar had a name on it. Currier and Ives. There was a large fireplace in the print, with logs blazing merrily in it, and there was a pine tree in a tub, decorated with ornamental candles in a way that seemed dangerous to Ryan. Pretty parcels were scattered around the bottom of the tree, each wrapped in bright paper and tied with ribbons of silk. The mantel was busy with vases and spelter statues of men on horseback, and over the mantel was a large painting. When Ryan peered more closely at the painting, he saw that it was a reproduction of the main picturea fireplace with a tree in a tub. And over the mantel was a picture of a room with a fire and a tree and a picture over the mantel

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