Genesis Echo (Deathlands 25) by James Axler

Doc sighed. “An unusual variant on a famous old saying, Jak, my dear friend. The question now must be how do we get out of here?”

“I wish I knew the answer to two questions.” Mildred stood next to the Armorer. “When they picked me up I heard that Ryan and Trader’s party is missing. Love to know where they are now.”

“That’s only one question,” Abe said.

“Second is where’s Krysty? She should have been brought back to us by now.”

J.B. nodded his agreement. “We all set off at noon, yesterday. Now it’s around ten in the morning. After they disarmed us they kept us separated before bringing us back to this wing. Where’s Krysty been all this time?”

KRYSTY HAD BEEN LOCKED UP in a small side ward at the far end of the top floor of the secret wing of the institute. After the relatively gentle interrogation, she had expected to be returned to the rest of the group.

But Crichton had other ideas.

“There is so much more we want to talk to you about,” he’d said in that desiccated, croaky voice. “We do not wish you to be tainted by discussing this afternoon with your colleagues. It will render our research soiled and impure.”

“You mean you’re making me a prisoner instead of just, like, a guest?”

The lizard head had trembled, the hooded eyes blinking rapidly at her. “Prisoner? Was that the word I heard you use, my dear? Not so. After tomorrow, or the following day at the latest, you can go back to the rest of the outlanders.”

“And we can go?”

“Oh, yes. Then you can all go.”

The men with the scatterguns had escorted her, having taken the elementary precaution of removing the 640 Smith amp; Wesson from its holster.

It had all been very polite and calmly efficient. There had been four sec men, including Ellison, and they hadn’t taken any chances. Two stood off on each side, covering her as she walked along the brightly lighted corridor.

“Dead lock on the door,” the sec boss said. “Two men outside. This was used for restraining patients who’d got themselves sort of crazed after experiments. That’s why there’s also bars on the window. So, save your strength.” He laughed, making the deep scar by his mouth curl up even more. “Though the whitecoats’ll sure like to see you use that mutie power you got. That’s what interests them more than anything.”

SHE HAD SLEPT WELL, quieting herself with the meditative techniques taught to her by her mother Sonja. It had been a calm, dreamless night, and she woke at dawn feeling refreshed.

There had been a change of guards since the previous evening, and Ellison greeted her when he unlocked the door. “Have a good night?”

“Not bad.”

“You notice the walls and ceiling are kind of padded in this part of the institute?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s because this end of the wing was used for crazies when the old-time scientists’ predark experiments went wrong.” He grinned at her so that the livid scar twitched as though it had a life of its own.

“You told me that last night.”

“I did?”

“Yeah, you did.”

He sniffed. “You say so. Anyway, they want you bright and early for the next round.”

“Sure. Can’t wait. Listen, is there any news about the rest of my friends?”

Ellison looked suddenly suspicious. “Why? What’ve you heard? Someone flapped his mouth?”

Krysty shook her head, aware of how tightly curled her flaming hair was, a sure sign of a threatening situation. “No. I heard that the hunting party had gotten separated. Most got back. Just Ryan and Trader out there.”

Ellison nodded noncomm it tally. “I heard that.”

“Will I see the others at breakfast? Hear the latest news from them?”

“No.”

“Why not? The scientists want me to cooperate with them. If they don’t help me, then I won’t help them. You can tell them that.”

“Wouldn’t think that’s a good idea, lady. They’ll easy make you do what they want. Don’t matter to the whitecoats whether you want to help or not. I should know.”

“Why? Why should you know?”

Ellison backed off. “I didn’t saydidn’t mean nothing. But you don’t get to see the others.”