James Axler – Keepers of the Sun

Issie was less lucky.

As everybody watched in helpless horror, the ground opened some distance beyond the spiked iron gates, the crack widening as it rushed toward the house, like the gaping mouth of Hell itself. Flames burst out, and the air was filled with the choking stench of sulfur.

Issie lay sprawled in the dirt in the path of the crack, paralyzed by infinite fear, her eyes wide open, staring toward the opening earth.

Ryan broke free from Krysty and tried to power himself toward the young woman, but the shifting ground defeated him and he stumbled across Doc, falling over himself.

The noise was indescribable, like the wailing of ten thousand banshees. Out of the corner of his eye, Ryan could just make out Jak, on hands and knees, fighting to get to Issie, his mouth open, screaming soundlessly at the top of his voice.

The Japanese geisha also had her mouth open, and she was flattened out, as if she were trying to press her body into the earth for safety.

But the quake wasn’t to be denied its victim.

The great crack reached her and swallowed her up. The last glimpse was of one hand, fingers scraping in the dirt, digging a furrow as the opening sucked her down.

There was a hollow roar, and the earth closed again like a gigantic trap.

And the silence flooded back once more.

Doc found his mind swamped suddenly with a memory of a tall, beautiful, young blond woman who had been snatched away from him in a somewhat similar manner. “Lori,” he whispered, and tears soaked his cheeks.

Now the only sound was Jak’s yelling, his voice breaking in anguish as he crawled to where the crack in the driveway had slammed shut. But there was scarcely a sign of where she’d been taken, just a fine network of cracks that seamed the surface of the ground.

“Nothing to be done, Jak,” Ryan said, pulling himself to his feet and helping Doc up.

“Least it was quick,” J.B. added, shaking his head. He took off his glasses and started to polish them.

“Oh, fuck it, fuck it” Jak moaned, rocking back and forth, running his hands through the tangled mane of snow white hair.

Krysty went to the distraught teenager and took him in her arms, holding him tight, his head on her shoulder as he sobbed out his loss.

“That was a mean mother of a quake,” Mildred said quietly. “Poor kid.”

Ryan didn’t know whether she meant Issie or Jak, and didn’t feel like asking.

“One more like that could wreck the house,” he said, aware of how loud and harsh his voice seemed to sound. “And it’s goodbye to the mat-trans unit and goodbye to ever getting home again to Deathlands.”

Even in his rage and misery, Ryan’s words penetrated to Jak, and he broke away from Krysty, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “It’s right, Ryan,” he said. “Must go. Nothing here stay for. Nothing.”

THE INSIDE OF THE HOUSE was badly damaged since they had last been there a few days earlier.

The shrine by the entrance had tumbled, and the little brass statue of the grasshopper was lying on the floor, three of its spindly legs broken off. The beautiful stained-glass picture of the cherry blossom and the stork that had decorated the front door had shattered into a hundred brilliantly colored shards.

Ryan led the way toward the air-lock door, through and along to the elevator.

“Where we going to put the grens?” J.B. asked.

“They’ve only got twenty-second timers, haven’t they? Not all that long.”

The Armorer nodded. “Right. We don’t really know how long it takes for a jump to be properly initiated. Feels like thirty seconds or so before we become unconscious. Might be a deal more than that before we actually get to jump out of there.”

“Grens could go off while we’re in midjump,” Mildred said. “That what you’re saying, John?”

“Right, love. Could put them in the elevator shaft when we’re down there. Seal it off tight and also bring the house down on top of everything.”

“That would bury us snugger than a pharaoh in his sarcophagus, would it not?” Doc asked.