“Hey, what was that?” a man called out from a dark corridor. “Who are you folks?”
Stepping through the archway, Ryan fired the silenced weapon directly into the unseen face. The blaster coughed, its muzzle-flash lighting the corridor for a heartbeat, and the man jerked backward as an explosion of blood and brains slapped against the brick wall. As the dead guard crumpled to the floor, the rest of the companions rushed past the gate, and J.B. locked it in their wake. That should buy them a few minutes, but not much more.
“From here on, it’s chillin’ time,” Ryan said low and fast. “Ace anybody you see. All we’re interested in is finding Doc.”
Jak passed the crossbow to Dean. “Ready,” the albino teen said, drawing a knife with each hand.
The brick corridor was lined with more tapestries that were barely discernible in the yellowish light of the hissing lanterns. A set of double doors closed off the end, and Ryan placed his ear to the wood. There were some muffled voices, a laugh and then the telltale crack of a whip followed by a cry of pain.
“That’s Doc,” Krysty stated, bringing up the crossbow.
Slamming open the door, Ryan withheld firing as Mildred clicked on the nukelamp, filling the next room with harsh white light. As the three sec men lowered their whips, the companions opened fire in unison with every weapon. The men reeled at the incoming lead and arrows, died on the spot torn to pieces.
Walking into the vast room, Ryan felt a shiver go through his bones. This was something new. It was a church from hell. The pews had been removed, leaving the center open for people to gather. A wooden railing stood before an altar at the back of the church, and a giant scorpion stood on a velvet covered altar, a steady stream of water trickling from its open mouth into a stone basin on the floor. Surrounding the basin was a low stone wall filled with dozens of live black scorpions.
Set on either side of the altar were slanted tables, the left covered with a canvas sheet, the right supporting Doc. The old man had been stripped to the waist, his hands and feet shackled with chains and pulled tight, holding him motionless. His back was covered with welts and countless old scars, a few of them bleeding slightly from the cut of the whip, but his chest still rose and fell.
Keeping their every weapon on the motionless scorpion towering over them, the companions crossed the room, and J.B. got to work on the shackles.
“You okay?” Mildred asked, setting down the nukelamp and turning Doc’s head to look into his eyes. The pupils dilated to the light. No drugs used this time, but her fingers found a hard lump on the back of his head that told the story. Hit from behind.
“I live,” Doc whispered hoarsely. “Th-that is enough.”
“Any more sec men around?” Ryan demanded, taking the nukelamp and playing the white beam around the church. There were no other doors in sight, but that didn’t mean a whole lot. Could be dozens of secret entrances.
Doc weakly shook his head while Mildred started to clean the cuts on his back with some of the precious med supplies from her satchel. The scholar winced at the application of shine, but said nothing. He had endured much worse,
“There were three,” he croaked, “and three when we arrived. One is very big with a—”
“Got them,” Ryan interrupted, taking the man by the shoulder and giving a hard squeeze. “We aced six.”
“S-splendid.”
“There,” J.B. said with satisfaction and the mechanism disengaged, the chains dropping noisily away.
Krysty slid a shoulder under Doc’s arm to help him stand, while Mildred helped the man slip on his shirt and coat.
“Think you can walk out of here?” J.B. asked, offering the ebony stick.
Fumbling to button his shirt, Doc stopped and took the stick. Extracting the blade, he inspected it in the white light, then held it out to wipe the steel clean on a sec man sprawled on the floor. The corpse had an arrow through its chest, and a slash along its neck that went from ear to Adam’s apple, but not quite deep enough to open the big artery under the skin.