Mildred sat next to him, the beads in her hair clicking softly against the armaglass. J.B. joined her, carefully putting his weapons by his side.
Michael and Dean pushed each other in the doorway, kidding as they jostled, finally sitting down cross-legged, leaving a gap for Krysty and Ryan.
She went in and took her place, sighing. “Still hate a jump.”
Ryan took a last look at the Kansas redoubt, then firmly closed the heavy red door.
The lock activated the mat-trans process and as he sat beside Krysty, the first tendrils of white mist were appearing near the ceiling of the chamber.
“Ready or not, here we go,” Mildred said, holding hands with J.B. and with Doc, who gripped Ryan’s left hand in his right, the rest of the friends completing the circle.
“For what we are about to receive.” Michael grinned at the others.
“Hope it don’t stink.”
“You mean ‘doesn’t’ stink, Dean,” Krysty corrected.
“Yeah. Just so we go where the sun shines bright and we can have a real hot pipe of a time.”
“I’ll settle for the sun.” Ryan looked at J.B., feeling the feathery fingers of the jump beginning to slide across his cortex. “What’re you thinking?”
The Armorer had finished folding his glasses and putting them safely in a pocket, taking the hands of Mildred and Michael again. “Thinking about the most beautiful blasters in Deathlands and how I destroyed them.”
“Trader used to say that some you won and some you drew.”
“Wonder where Abe is?” J.B. closed his eyes, falling silent.
Ryan felt his hand being squeezed by Krysty and suddenly thought that it would be nice to tell her how glad he was they’d survived another close one. How much he loved her.
But the disks in floor and ceiling were glowing brightly, and time was running out. The jump was on.
It took an enormous effort of will, but he managed it. “Love you,” he said, the words sounding infinitely far off.
He thought she responded with pressure on his fingers, but he couldn’t be sure.
Ryan closed his eye.