James Axler – Keepers of the Sun

Three people, he guessed.

Ryan strained to hear, guessing from the noise of their walking that they were either small-built men or teenagers or, possibly, women.

Shadows moved quickly by, thrown against the wall behind him. The footsteps never paused until they reached the control lever for the sec door. Ryan risked a quick glance around the edge of the desk, desperate to know what these jumpers looked like, but the angle of the consoles blocked them from view.

Someone threw the lever, triggering the familiar sound of concealed gears whirring as they lifted the great weight of the sec door.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ryan could see Jak trembling with the suppressed tension, his red eyes seeming to glow like molten rubies.

The whirring stopped, and the footsteps moved on and out. The sec door dropped slowly back into place again.

Everyone waited for Ryan to take the lead, but he kept them there, counting two hundred heartbeats, concentrating on trying to catch the least movement or breathing. But the control room was as silent as a midnight tomb.

He inched out on his belly, moving like a hunting rattler, crawling on the floor until he was able to see around the farther corner of the row of desks, seeing that the room was completely empty.

“Right,” he said, standing, brushing himself down and holstering the blaster. “Whoever they were, they’ve gone now.” He pushed back an errant curl of dark hair from his forehead. “Anyone see them at all or hear anything?”

Everyone shook their heads.

Krysty made an undetermined gesture with her hand. “Nothing much,” she said. “But I thought I heard a kind of metal-rubbing-on-metal noise. Might be wrong. And I don’t reckon that they were wearing combat boots. Something softer and quieter.”

Jak was sniffing the air like a possum hound, head back, eyes closed. “Smell like” he began. “Like don’t know what. Not like us.”

“What kind of smell?” Ryan asked. “Can’t detect anything myself.”

“You couldn’t smell if your pants were on fire, lover,” Krysty teased. “I can catch something kind of different. Sort of spicy scent. Or herbs like I don’t know.”

“What do we do now?” Doc asked, rising to his feet with a positive eruption of noise from his knees.

Jak had gone quickly to check out the chamber. “Nothing in there,” he called. “Except smells stronger.”

Ryan looked around. “Best give them a little time to get out of this section and into the main redoubt. Then we might as well move ourselves. Can’t wait here forever.”

“Give them five minutes?” the Armorer suggested. “Should be long enough.”

“Make it ten,” Ryan said. “No point hurrying to shove our necks into the noose.”

RYAN LOOKED DOWN at his wrist chron, waiting for the crystal display of flickering digits to turn over. “Right,” he said. “That’s the ten.”

“Want me to take the control lever, Ryan?” Doc asked. “Without Dean here, it falls to the oldest member of the party to take the responsibility. I assure you that I am confident of handling the handle, if I can get a handle on it. Be handy if I could. Handy and Andy. What happened to the Kingfish? Play some Handel for the handle.” His eyes had glazed over, and he seemed a thousand miles away.

Ryan clapped his hands smartly together, making the old man jump. “Ready, then, Doc. Know the way. This time I only want it a couple of inches off the ground. No more than that, so I can take a squint under it.”

“What do you think you’ll see, Ryan?” Mildred asked. “The teahouse of the August moon, perhaps?” She saw the look of incomprehension on his face. “Sorry, period reference. Getting nearly as bad as Doc.”

Ryan ignored her. “If I shout a warning, then you drop the door, Doc, instantly.”

“If not sooner, my dear fellow.”

“And we all run like smoke to the gateway, pile in and try and jump out of here before the swift and evil enemy comes in after us. No arguments and no hesitation.”

J.B. readied the Uzi again. “Don’t forget we’re still on triple red until we’re safe out of here.”