Dark Reckoning by James Axler

Ryan rapped on the metal with the barrel of his blaster. “That’s solid vanadium,” he stated. “Just like the main door upstairs.”

“Nukeproof,” Doc said suspiciously. “Could it be an escape route?”

“Never saw one in a redoubt before,” Ryan replied. “But then, this redoubt has lots of armored doors sealing off sections. I think it might have been one of their secure sites.”

“That would explain all the artwork upstairs.” Krysty remarked. Although why they thought paintings and statues were valuable I have no idea.”

“Pretty,” Jak commented succinctly. “But that all.”

“It was a different time,” Mildred said, sighing in remembrance. “A different world.”

“Not make sense,” Jak insisted.

Ryan snorted at the comment. “Lots of things about the redoubts make no sense. You know that.”

“An enigma designed by a fool,” Doc muttered.

Rubbing his jaw, Ryan nodded. “Something like that.”

Going to the door, Krysty pressed her ear against the cool metal. “Can’t hear anything,” she reported. “J.B., think you can open this?”

“Why should we?” the Armorer asked, adjusting his glasses. The man seemed lopsided without his ever-present bag of explosives at his side. The collection of grens and plas-ex had been another loss in their desperate race for the redoubt.

“Could be another level, mebbe a storehouse full of weapons and food.”

“Hmm. Hide all of the good stuff downstairs, eh? Does make sense,” the Armorer replied, cracking his knuckles. “I’ll give it a try.”

“Hold,” Ryan commanded. “Before we open any doors, I want a weapons check. I have nothing for the Steyr, and only six shots in the SIG-Sauer. Plus, my panga. How about the rest of you?”

“About the same. The scattergun is out,” J.B. replied. “I have one clip for the Uzi with ten rounds. Nothing else.”

“Three loads for the LeMat,” Doc announced, patting the huge pistol on his belt. “And my sword.”

” A full load of six,” Krysty added, clo sing the cylinder of her Samp;W .38 revolver. “I found some loose rounds in a pocket. But no reloads.”

“Nine rounds,” Dean said, having already checked his blaster.

Scowling, Jak lowered his .357 Magnum Colt Python. “Two rounds,” he reported. “And knives.”

“One live bullet,” Mildred added, closing the cylinder of her target pistol. “And a lot of spent casings for reloads.”

“Fireblast, barely enough to go hunting,” Ryan stated sourly. “And we sure as shit can’t go after the blues with this little ammo. They’d blow us to hell with those damn rapidfires.”

“Well, I can make black powder for Doc, and cordite for the rest of us,” J.B. stated, “but it takes time. I’d need a month to cook plastique.”

“You have the equipment to do that?” Mildred asked in surprise.

He grinned. “Sure. All I need is a file and a bucketful of quarters. Give me a few sunny days, and I can start producing guncotton and dynamite in under a week.”

Mildred shook her head in disbelief. The man was amazing. Make dynamite from quarters? Sounded impossible, but if John said it could be done, that was enough for her.

Standing before the huge door, Ryan stared at it thoughtfully. Escape route, trap, or another level? A similar door was in the middle of the redoubt, separating the mat-trans section from the living quarters, something the companions had never encountered before in any redoubt. Hell, this could even be one of those deep storage lockers the Trader had told him about so many years ago, a special kind of vault designed to hold weapons and food in a sort of dry suspension for a thousand years. Of course, there could also be a dozen of those sec hunter droids inside to keep out intruders. The companions were too weak and low on ammo to risk tangling with those armored machines. Yet everything they needed could be behind that dooror sudden death. It was a big risk either way. Balancing the options, Ryan made a decision.

“J.B., check for booby traps,” he ordered, taking a combat stance. “Doc and Dean, stand guard. Mildred, keep a watch on the stairs. Krysty, Jak and I will watch for anything unfriendly coming out. We retreat to the garage if we can’t handle what’s inside.”