Genesis Echo (Deathlands 25) by James Axler

“Into and out?” Ryan said. “You mean one or two got inside the place?”

“One or two. We counted them in and we never counted them out again, Cawdor.”

“Only way to do it,” Trader agreed in the first sign of friendliness that he’d shown to the little man.

“How many men you got, Buford?” Ryan asked. “Must be a regular predark army if you can put this many onto every entrance and exit.”

The scientist covered his hand with his mouth and sniggered. “This is our only way in and out of the institute. Once we are over the ridge you will see that Nature herself has provided us with total security.”

“IT PUTS ME WONDERFULLY in mind of the grandeur of Yosemite Park,” Doc said.

“Looks like the biggest wag trap ever built.” Abe cleared his throat and spit.

Past the barrier, the road continued as a two-lane blacktop, down an incline for about a half mile between walls of sheer rock. Walls carried on all the way around through three hundred and sixty degrees, forming a perfect bowl of unscalable cliffs. At the bottom was a thickly wooded valley roughly three-quarters of a mile across with a river flowing through it, the water cascading off a feathery fall to the east side.

And at the very heart of the valley was the group of buildings known as the institute.

There were two more levels of sec barriers down the road, both manned by half a dozen sec guards, all in the white quilted plastic jackets. There was a metal sign by the last of the barriers, its supports rusted through, leaning against the wall of quartz-silvered granite.

The words were still legible, despite a century of chem storm fallout and weathering The Melissa Crichton Institute of Medical Research. Cryology and Gene Sculpturing.

“Cryology!” Mildred exclaimed. “Do I believe my eyes?”

“You know the word?” Buford asked.

“Sure I used to” She caught the simultaneous warning cough from Ryan, Krysty and J.B. “I mean I read about it. Freezing and stuff, wasn’t it?”

“It was, I believe. Sadly that is one of the main wings of the hospital complex that has been long closed down and abandoned to the ghosts of yesteryear.”

“So, what do you do down there, then?” Ryan asked, turning the conversation from the potentially difficult one of the bizarre past of Dr. Mildred Winonia Wyeth.

Once again there was the irritatingly girlish giggle, partly hidden by the soft palm of his hand. “What don’t we do? Much of our work has been undertaken over a long period of time, the research being handed on down the line from father to son and from mother to daughter.”

“And from father to daughter and from mother to son,” Mildred said.

“Yes, of I see that’s supposed to be some sort of a joke, isn’t it?”

“Very nearly, Professor. Very nearly.”

Krysty had fallen asleep, and Ryan went to where she sat in the arms of two of the bigger sec men. Only then did Ryan notice how alike the pair of guards looked.

“You two brothers?” he asked.

“No.”

“Yes.”

Neither offered any explanation of their answers. Ryan shook his head, checked that Krysty was as well as could be expected and turned to rejoin the others.

“Have your magical mystery princess safe snuggled in beddy-byes within the hour now,” Buford said.

FROM THE BROW OF THE HILL that overlooked the secret valley of the Crichton Institute it appeared that the buildings were all in pristine condition.

But as they gradually made their way closer, the damage of the turning years became more apparent. The complex had originally been shaped like a star, with wings running off in five directions from a central area. This atrium seemed relatively untouched, though Abe pointed out that parts of the roof looked like they could do with some repair.

Three of the five main wings had clearly suffered serious structural damage. One had collapsed in its entirety, the one that Buford pointed out had once housed the finest cryology unit in the northeast.

Another had folded in like a pack of cards, with the end wall subsiding and knocking down all the interior sections, one after another.