They all heard the noise of gears grating against one another, and it was several seconds before there was any visible movement. It crossed Ryan’s mind that the family of guards who’d lived in the redoubt for most of the hundred years or so since skydark had to have been using the doors for all that time. And it was a peanut to a candy bar that the sec doors had never been serviced. After all that time it was amazing that they worked at all.
“Moving, Dad!” Dean called, his voice cracking with his excitement.
A sliver of daylight appeared, and Ryan tasted the freshness of the outer air. Breathing inside the redoubt had been unusually good, but it was still tainted with the smell of Mervyn and Titus and their cooking fires.
“Smells fine,” he said.
The others were ranged on either side of him, all with their blasters readied, in case there was any immediate danger outside the sec doors.
The ash-covered water began to trickle through the narrow gap, running faster as the doors opened wider. All Ryan could see was an open space and bright sunlight.
“Hold it there, Dean,” he called. “Let’s just take a quick look outside.”
He walked closer, peering out of the gap of about seven inches. It was possible to see through a wide arc outside. There was a trampled area, with scrubby undergrowth that looked and smelled like mesquite and sage. Beyond the open area there were trees, mainly conifers, and in the far distance was range upon range of tall mountains.
Ryan could also make out what looked like a bone-yard, a stack of rotting carcasses, ravaged by vultures and other predators, standing twenty or thirty feet high. He figured the kills had to have been left there by Titus and Mervyn’s kin. There was also a huge pile of speckled ash and partly burned branchesthe remnants of hundreds of bonfires.
Beyond that there was no sign of life.
“All the way, son,” he said.
The water flowed faster out onto the flattened area, finding its own level by running off in a new-made stream through the fringe of the trees.
“Still leaves some of the water pouring off someplace deep inside the redoubt,” J.B. said. “Mebbe they got emergency storm drains to carry it off.”
The sec doors slid remorselessly open, stopping with a sigh of compressed air. The gap was now wide enough for three big war wags to pass through side by side.
“Gaia!” Krysty exclaimed. “That air is wonderfully fresh. Reminds me of my teen times up in Harmony ville. Any idea where we are?”
J.B. slung the Uzi over his shoulder, where it rattled against the Smith amp; Wesson scattergun. He took out his minisextant and sighted at the sun, which was already a little way up in the eastern sky.
“Look at mountains,” Jak said. Coming from the flatlands of the bayous, the teenager was always impressed when jumps took them into the high country.
The peaks were snowcapped, rising jagged and serene, highest toward the west.
“That one looks like a hooked bear claw,” Mildred said. “I’d place a fistful of dollars on them being the Rockies.”
Krysty was staring where the woman had pointed. “I may be wrong, but I’d place a handful of jack on us being within a hundred miles of Harmony.”
She turned to Ryan. “You realize that, lover?”
“Could be. Old Colorado, mebbe.”
J.B. had finished his calculations with the tiny comp-powered instrument.
“Not a bad guess, bro,” he said.
“The Rockies?” Mildred asked.
The Armorer nodded, concentrating on folding up the fragile little sextant and stowing it once more in one of his capacious pockets.
“Yeah. Ryan was right about old Colorado. And you’re right about Harmony, as well, Krysty.”
J.B. had an astounding eidetic memory for a number of things, including weaponry. But he could also tell you where you were in Deathlands, simply from the digital parameters established by the sophisticated navigational aid.
“Where are we, my dear John Barrymore? It seems akin to Paradise.”
“Nearest predark ville of any substance was called Glenwood Springs. Near as I can tell, we’re a little ways north of there. Four or five miles. I think I recognize some of the mountains around us here.”