James Axler – Deathlands

“Everyone else all right?” Ryan called. “Dean?”

“Yeah, Dad. Can’t hardly hear you. Feels like my ears been filled with water. Hey, I’m triple sorry about that, but I never knew they”

“That’s all right, son. Krysty?”

She was close enough to reach out and squeeze his hand. “Near thing that,” she said. “I’m fine. Got a load of mud and grass in my hair.”

“Jak?”

“Deaf.”

“The girl?”

“She’s all right. Pissed herself in fear. Think have to carry her back the village. Doubt she’ll walk.”

“Mildred?” There was no answer for a moment. “Mildred, are you all right?”

“Sorry, didn’t hear you properly. Yeah. I got a little blood from my ears but I don’t think there’s any permanent damage done. Close call, friends.”

Doc’s voice boomed out across the clearing. “The good doctor has a little blood from her ears? Is that what the good lady said? She is lucky to have any ears left. After her violent attack on my person I thought that my one ear had vanished into her fingers.” He paused, dropping the mock-angry bantering tone. “I thank you for saving my life, madam. Most sincerely.”

“Welcome, Doc.”

Ryan looked up again, over the rise in the ground. There didn’t seem much risk of more grens going off.

“Let’s move it,” he said. “Head away toward the main entrance. Need a hand with Rain Flower, Jak?”

“No. Manage.”

Brushing dirt, leaves and pebbles from themselves, they all stood, staring nervously toward the smoldering crater behind them.

Ryan noticed that Doc had suffered one of his nosebleeds, crimson streaking his mouth and chin. He was mopping at it with his trusty kerchief. Everyone else looked well enough, though Dean was pale with shock.

Rain Flower was holding Jak by the hand, looking up at him from beneath lowered lids. She was trembling like an aspen in a hurricane.

Krysty’s bright hair was dulled and had coiled itself tightly around her nape. Her green eyes blinked as she rubbed dust from them, but she still managed a smile for Ryan. “Never a dull moment, lover,” she said.

ITZCOATL, WITH A NUMBER of his senior warriors, all of them fully armed, met them on the trail a quarter mile outside the village. “What was the thunder?” he asked, pointing at the bags carried by J.B. and Doc. “What have you removed from the temple of the Americans.”

“Just some powder and stuff that we found over at the base. Think that we might be able to use it to help you.” Ryan quickly changed the subject. “And the noise? Guess we might’ve woke up some of the old gods,” Ryan replied. “But we won and they lost. They always lose.”

The chief looked at Rain Flower, and he suddenly spit a long question at her in their own tongue. After a brief hesitation she replied at great length, gesturing first at Jak, then at Mildred, finally at Jak again.

Itzcoatl nodded slowly, his dark eyes returning to Ryan. “You angered the old ones,” he said accusingly, “and nearly paid the blood price.”

“Some old grenades got triggered and went off. It was dangerous but we escaped all right. It’s nothing to do with any fireblasted gods!”

The chief responded to Ryan’s burst of temper, pointing at him with his obsidian sword. “You have helped us but don’t step over the line or you better watch your ass.”

Ryan couldn’t help smiling at the man’s use of the old predark American slang. “Sure, Chief. Sure. We could use a good wash and mebbe some food?”

“Tonight there will be the ritual of winning the favor of the gods. The two Jaguar warriors and the slaver you caught will all help us in this. It will be a feast of celebration.”

“But we can eat now?”

“No. Water only is allowed. It is part of the cleansing. We do not eat after the burying of our brothers. Not before they are joined by our enemies.”

“Joined?” J.B. repeated. “Do that mean what I think it do, Chief?”

But Itzcoatl shook his head. “Tonight, before the setting of the sun. You will see all and understand all.”

EVERYONE FRESHENED UP, using water from the nearby lake to wash.