Exile to Hell

This was the level devoted to feeding comfort to the Enclaves, producing and manufacturing, and in many instances, reproducing and remanufacturing tools, weapons, engine parts and fixtures of all sorts.

Along one wall, protected by a heavy-gauge-wire-screened enclosure, was a line of humped nuclear generators, which provided the power. The wall behind them was studded with meters, dials and glass-encased readouts. She wondered if Kane intended to knock out the energy source, since it was such an obvious target. Instead, he pointed directly ahead.

“See that door on the far wall?” He spoke loudly to be heard over the incessant clanking, rattling roar.

She narrowed her eyes, wishing she had her glasses. She tried to follow his pointing finger, but her view was obscured by billows of steam and spark showers. “No.”

“Doesn’t matter. Follow me. Don’t look around. No matter what happens, just keep going.”

Kane started off, walking in brisk, long-legged strides. Brigid followed him. The noise, the smell, the heatall were a physical assault. She felt her bones vibrating in rhythm with the crashing machinery. The air was stagnant, choked with the thick odors of grease and superheated metal.

She kept her eyes on Kane’s black-shelled back, trying to imitate his steady, measured tread. Several times she had to dodge a flurry of sparks and once she barely avoided being scalded by a hissing spurt of steam.

All of this old ironmongery was incongruous, she realized, powered as it was by atomic generators. She knew more-advanced equipment existed before the nukecaust. Then again, she chided herself, the more advanced the equipment, the more educated the people had to be in order to operate it.

But then, she remembered her recent presentencing exchange with the baron, and his views. In this tortured period of humankind’s existence on earth, knowledge must also bring death.

The few people in their path barely glanced at them. Once they saw Kane’s armored figure looming out of the mist, they immediately directed their attention elsewhere. They probably feared a surprise inspection was under way.

Long before they reached the door, Brigid was perspiring and breathing heavily. The lead-shielded door bore an exclamatory warning in white paint Absolutely No Admittance Beyond This Point! No Exceptions!

The hasp was secured by a thick padlock, almost the size of her fist. Wiping at the sweat filming her face, she yelled in his ear, “Do you have a key?”

Kane nodded, lifting his right hand. The Sin Eater sprang into it, flame blooming from the barrel. Because of the background roar, the shot sounded no louder than a hand clap. The padlock jumped and broke apart. Kane ripped the shattered mass from the hasp and pushed open the door. It appeared to require quite a bit of effort He stepped through, looked around and indicated with a gesture that the way was clear.

After Brigid stepped through, he pulled the door closed, and the volume of the racket was reduced by half. The air was much cooler, and she couldn’t help but sigh in relief.

They stood in almost complete darkness, at the bottom of a high shaft. She could barely make out the contours of a corkscrew staircase, twisting up into the dimness.

“I can barely see,” she said, unconsciously lowering her voice to a whisper.

Kane tapped his visor. “I’ll see for both of us.”

“Where to now?”

“Like I said. Tartarus.”

“Feels like we’ve already been there,” she murmured.

Chapter Twenty-Two

When the ground collapsed beneath their feet, they tumbled down together. Kane did his best to cushion Brigid’s fall. It seemed only polite since he was in the lead and holding her hand. The fall was completely unexpected, and he had to give the archivist credit she didn’t cry out or curse the way he did.

They landed in a pile of soft dirt and half slid, half rolled to its base. Brigid ended up lying atop him. Pushing her hair out of her face, she said, “I thought you’d come this way before.”

“Years ago. There’s been some changes. Besides, we ended up where we wanted to end up.”

By the light enhancer on his helmet, he saw her blink around and wrinkle her nose. “Smells like gasoline or something.”

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