James Axler – Deathlands 27 – Ground Zero

Mildred laughed delightedly. “But you can’t play it anyway, Doc!”

Jak limped to join the old man, tugging at his sleeve. “Might as well make river flow uphill, Doc,” he said.

THEY STARTED toward the gateway first thing next morning, all of them glad to be moving on again. The only obstacle in their way out of the redoubt was the small elevator.

Ryan was uneasy about taking the metal cage down to the lower level. There had been some triple-bad experiences in elevators in the past couple of years. In Deathlands you always aimed to avoid putting yourself into any sort of trap.

Or potential trap.

And there were few more potentially hazardous traps than elevators.

The cage was still waiting patiently for them, the neon strip light above the entrance buzzing faintly. Its door hissed open as Dean pressed the button.

Ryan eased his finger off the trigger of the SIG-Sauer, seeing that the rectangular metal box was completely empty. “Let’s go,” he said.

It was a squeeze for all of them to get in, and it crossed Ryan’s mind that it must have been substantially more crowded on the way up, with Trader and Abe along. All of that already seemed oddly far away.

The journey to the bottom of the shaft should only have taken a few seconds, though he estimated the drop as being close to two hundred feet.

The elevator shuddered three-quarters of the way down, hesitating a moment, seeming to hang poised between heaven and earth. The powerful winding gear groaned in protest, and everyone froze, conversation dying.

After a couple of seconds’ delay the cage started to descend smoothly again.

Mildred whistled between her teeth. “Sure hate it when something like that happens. Tends toward making me a nominee for what we kids used to call the Hershey squirts award.”

Doc tutted. “I do not wish to know that, madam. Kindly leave the elevator.”

She grinned at the old man. “Soon as we reach bottom, we can all leave.”

EVERYONE EXCEPT RYAN had taken their places inside the armaglass walls of the actual mat-trans chamber. The dense material was brown, flecked with white, allowing very little light to filter through.

There was a gap between Dean and Krysty, where Ryan would soon take his place. It was now a familiar scene-Doc’s ebony sword stick lying by his side; J.B. carefully folding up his precious spectacles and placing them in one of his top pockets; Mildred holding his left hand, leaning back, the plaited beads in her hair rattling softly against the wall; Jak’s mane of stark white hair spread across his narrow shoulders liked a cascade of purest Sierra ice.

“Ready?” Ryan asked. Everyone nodded, and he stepped into the chamber and closed the door firmly behind him.

Chapter Three

“Didn’t work, Dad.”

Ryan was already aware of that. There hadn’t been the usual click as the door closed that indicated the mat-trans mechanism had been triggered. He opened it and pulled it firmly shut again. Still nothing.

J.B. bunked owlishly up at him. “Problem?”

“No. I’m standing here opening and shutting the rad-blasted door for my health.” Ryan felt the pulse of anger throbbing at his temple. ” ‘Course there’s a problem.”

Everyone started to shift, most of them standing, moving toward him. The armorer had fished out his glasses and was perching them on his bony nose. Only Doc remained sitting on the floor of the chamber.

“Leave it,” Ryan snapped, thoroughly put out by the failure of the mechanism.

If it couldn’t somehow be made to function properly-and none of them had much predark technical skill-then they were in deep trouble. They would have to go back up in the untrustworthy elevator and out onto the bleak, windswept island, try to build a new raft and make it across the treacherous narrows to the sulfurous mainland with all of its perils.

Ryan closed and opened the door several times, while the others crowded around him, offering a variety of advice.

He was so distracted by the confusion and noise that he hardly noticed that the lock had given an audible click on the seventh attempt at slamming the heavy door.