Dark Reckoning by James Axler

“You’re learning,” his father said with pride.

“We got enough plastique?” Mildred asked pointedly.

“Barely,” J.B. replied, resting a hand on the bag of explosives sitting on the control console. “We sure as shit could use another couple of pounds. Every ounce helps at this point.”

“Then let’s move,” Ryan said, and, sliding the Kalashnikov over a shoulder, he walked into the chamber. Once J.B. was seated on the floor, Ryan closed the heavy door and quickly joined his old friend, both patiently waiting for the artificial mists to tear their bodies into subatomic particles and throw them once more into the electronic abyss.

BRAKING THE HUMMER close to the hillock, Collette and a sec man stepped from the wag and quickly drew their weapons.

“Sons of bitches,” the private growled hatefully.

“Fire!” the woman barked, and the two cut loose with their rapidfires at the mutie dogs savaging the human corpses on the smooth ground. Startled, the beasts snarled and slavered at the loud noises as they were torn to pieces trying to protect the meat on the ground. The few survivors scampered away over the swells of rock.

Walking closer, the sec men kicked over a tattered body still wearing the rags of a blue shirt. “Rad me, it’s Quinn,” he cursed. “A cousin of mine from the Shens. Poor bastard.”

Collette stared at the face and body of the other corpse. The man was old, with almost no clothing, and shackles still circled his skinny ankles. It was the old slave sent to work the keypad of the door to the redoubt.

“Strange,” she said softly, touching the corpse and lifting a broken rib bone into the headlights of the Hummer. “These men weren’t aced by the muties. Some sort of blast did this damage.”

“An explosion?” The sec man gazed at their Hummer. “Fuel tanks still there, and I don’t see any gren holes anywhere. What could have blown up?”

Looking around, Collette soon spied the culprit. Laying in the grass, covered with blood and chewed intestines, was the butt and twisted frame of a predark pistol. Where the metal wasn’t burned or shattered, the chrome finish was still mirror shiny.

“I know this weapon,” Collette said hesitantly, studying the butt. She spit on the remains of the weapon and wiped the gore on her pants. “Yes, see here. This weird logo on the grip. The blaster is from something called the Anthill. This used to belong to Silas!”

“Dr. Jamaisvous?” the sec man said, scratching his head. “Yeah, I sort of remember him having a shiny blaster on his bed table. After he got chilled, we never found it in his rooms. Figured somebody stole it.”

“And why didn’t you report a missing wep?” Collette said in a low and dangerous tone.

Nervous under her stern gaze, the blue got formal. “We informed the baron, Sec Chief Hogan. It would be his decision to tell you, or not.”

“True enough,” she relented, harboring her anger for a more suitable target. Why hadn’t Sheffield mentioned it? Was he hiding some plan from her again?

Curiously, the sec man glanced around at the smooth featureless ground. “No way it could have been in the Hummer,” he stated. “Wonder where the whitehair found the blaster?”

Collette snapped her head toward the hill. “Inside the hill,” she muttered, feeling a sudden surge of excitement more powerful than any sex. “The slave found the entry code, got inside and found Silas’s trick gun.”

“What do you mean ‘trick’?” the sec man asked, confused.

Ignoring the question, the woman rushed to the black door and ran her hands across its marred expanse, then looked down and found a crumpled mass of paper. Kneeling, she smoothed out the printed sheets. The first eighteen pages had pencil lines drawn through the number-letter combinations. Going on a hunch, she tapped in the first line not crossed out. Nothing happened.

“Smart little fucker,” Collette growled in grudging admiration. “The slave found the code and waited for the right time before attacking.” Which meant that somewhere within these eighteen pages was the code to enter the predark redoubt. That would give her access to the jump chamber Sheffield had recently told her about, which would be her key away from him and complete freedom. No longer would she have to suck cock to stay alive. She would soon be in charge. If there were any weapon stores inside the redoubt, she could raise an army and take control of the dish from Sheffield. Using the Kite to burn herself more than a ville, or a dozen villes, Collette could become the first emperor of the New America. Everything she ever wanted was waiting behind that black metal door, and the key lay in her hand.