James Axler – Gemini Rising

Stephen scowled. “Wheat,” he repeated, walking toward the people waiting at the doorway.

The companions exchanged brief looks, but said nothing aloud.

“Okay, folks!” Stephen shouted between cupped hands. “We’re leaving now. Get your stuff on board.”

In an orderly fashion, the passengers climbed into the back of the first van and took seats amid the packs and bags.

“We’re doing a standard sandwich pattern,” Ryan said to the other companions as they gathered around him. “Truck, passenger van, cargo van and truck. I’ll take the lead so Stephen can show me the way. J.B., you ride in the back as gunner.”

“Of course,” the Armorer said, unfolding the wire stock of his Uzi submachine gun.

“Krysty take the passenger van. Doc, ride the cargo. Jak, you drive the second truck, with Mildred riding a shotgun in the cab. Dean in the back.”

There was no dissension at the order, so everybody moved to their assigned posts.

Climbing into the cab of the lead truck, Ryan adjusted the mirrors to suit him, then worked the choke a few times. The big V6 engine caught the first time, black smoke tinged with blue pouring from the rusty tailpipes. The whole wag shook as the engine loudly backfired, then settled into a steady hum.

Krysty had some minor trouble starting the passenger van, but after a few tries it finally caught. Doc was surprised at how smoothly the engine ran for the cargo van. Smooth as silk. The cab was remarkably clean, and on a wild hunch he tried the air conditioner. The engine automatically revved to handle the compressor, and icy cold ah” blew onto the surprised man. Doc turned it off immediately.

“Impossible,” he muttered. J.B. had once told him that the ammonia gas in the units easily leaked through the rubber seals and no AC would work after only the passage of a decade. A hundred-year-old air conditioner that functioned perfectly? The scholar made a mental note to tell the others about that as soon as possible. Then feeling very apprehensive, Doc looked through the tiny ventilation grille in the wall dividing the cab from the aft cargo area and stared at the array of different-shaped boxes lashed to the metal floor. Wheat be damned. What was he really carrying?

Applying the gas and shifting gears on the stick, Jak revved the big engine on the second truck a few times before trying the ignition. The predark wag jerked as the clutch was engaged, and the engine hesitantly roared into life.

“Sounds odd,” Mildred said, setting her sore foot on top of an old duty blanket to be used as a cushion. She rested the M-4000 shotgun in her lap and touched her shirt pocket, which was bulging with extra shells.

“Rotary engine,” Jak said, rolling down the window. “Not piston.”

“Is that better than diesel?” she asked.

“Nothing better’n diesel,” the teenager replied, gunning the engine.

Loosening his blaster, Ryan laid his rifle across the dashboard and shifted into gear, slowly testing the brakes.

“Pulls to the left,” he said, fighting the steering wheel.

“Still works,” Stephen grumbled, slightly annoyed.

Rolling out the barn door, Ryan headed for the main gate. As the convoy rumbled forward, a crowd of white-hairs and children watched them going by without much interest. However, Ryan thought he recognized one of Phillipe’s crew watching from an alleyway, then they were gone in the smoke and dust.

Monty and the sec men were at the gate, holding the double doors open wide to let the convoy pass effortlessly through. None of them waved or cheered or even smiled. As the second truck cleared the exit, the sec men closed one of the doors and two men took guard positions at the opening. Exactly the same as Ryan had first seen them do the day before.

“Head east, toward the quarry,” Stephen directed, the stock of a rifle resting in his lap, the long barrel jutting out the window. “And for God’s sake, stay close to the ville.”

Trundling away from Rock ville, Ryan led the convoy around the town until reaching a packed dirt path that skirted the ragged edge of the deep quarry. The excavation was well over a thousand yards across, and so deep the bottom wasn’t visible to Ryan inside the cab. But reflected light playing on the irregularly cut walls clearly indicated that the bottom was filled with water.