Genesis Echo (Deathlands 25) by James Axler

“Who the fuck was that?” Trader asked. “That someone a bit closer to human?”

Ryan swallowed hard. “Yeah. Sort of.”

“Yes, hello,” said the huge shaggy man, standing by the door of the cell.

“Let him out. Any ally’s better than none, is what I say.”

Ryan tugged at the bolt and opened the door. The massively naked figure stood still in the doorway, clapping its taloned paws together. The oversize genitalia showed all too clearly its state of excitement.

“Hello, yes, hello, yes,” it repeated tonelessly.

“Close the door again,” Trader said calmly. “Quick as you can.”

“Hello, yes,” Ryan replied, getting a toothless leer of appreciation from the mutated freak. Very slowly he brought his hand to the bolt of the door, pushing it hard and slamming the sec lock across to hold it secure.

There was no response from the thing inside, just further muted repetitions of its two words of conversation.

“Don’t reckon be would have added very much to our small force,” Trader stated, laughing nervously. “Did you see the size of his”

“Yeah. But it’s not the biggest bullet does the most damage.”

“Not sure that’s true. Anyway, let’s at least take a look in the last cell and then we can get moving into the heart of this evil place.”

There was the sound of two people talking, louder as the grille slid open.

“I’ll be damned,” Trader mumbled before his voice failed him.

“Are you new sec men?” the larger of the heads asked, turning to peer toward the door.

“They don’t look like sec men,” the second head stated.

“What would you know?”

“I know from the way they look at me, admiring my breasts and my thighs.”

The larger head laughed, mockingly. ” Your breasts and thighs! I think you mean my breasts and thighs, don’t you?”

“One dark night I shall place my hands around your fat neck and squeeze and squeeze.”

“You know what would happen to you, as well, if I died, sister dear?”

The lank-haired subsidiary head nodded slowly. “But the price might be worth the paying, sister dear.”

Trader moved away, tapping Ryan on the shoulder. “Leave them be,” he said.

“Not yet.” He spoke through the grille. “Would you like to be released from here?” he asked.

“Released?” the two voices asked in perfect harmony. “Set free from here? Where would we go?”

“Come with us.”

“Where, outlander?”

“To rescue our friends before the whitecoats experiment on them. You can have a blaster. We’ve chilled both the sec men guarding you.”

“And would we kill some of the whitecoats?” the larger head asked.

“That would be so pleasant, sister. I think we should accept the offer from the outlander.”

“You said that we have waited an eternity too long already. And you spoke the truth.”

“I know I did.”

“I said you did.”

“I know you said I did.”

Ryan turned to Trader. “Why not?”

“Your decision. But I give you a fair warning, bro. One wrong step from itherand I’ll blow off both of their fucking heads.”

Ryan slid back the bolt on the cell door. “Take clothes from one of the dead men,” he said, “and pick up a Mossberg for yourself. Yourselves.”

THERE HAD EVEN BEEN an argument about the name of the two-headed mutie woman. The dominant voice claimed to be called Evangelina while the drab said that they were really called Edna. They agreed that the naked giant along the passage had once been called Todd, who had been a local hunter.

“Before the whitecoats changed him, as well,” they chorused. “And him and us are among their better successes. Oh, yes, oh, yes we are.”

The right hand had taken charge of the silvered Mossberg 12-gauge and now flourished it. The woman had picked the more bloodstained and ragged uniform to cover her nakedness, and now stood facing Ryan and Trader.

“Can we go and start the repaying and the punishing?”

“Sure. Follow us,” Ryan said.

Chapter Thirty-Two

“You don’t stop their endless chattering, O’Mara, then I’ll fucking stop it myself.”

“O’Mara, Trader? He was a machine gunner on War Wag One, wasn’t he?”

“So?”

“So, my name’s Ryan Cawdor, not O’Mara.”