James Axler – Starfall

Naylor seemed at a loss for words, but he struggled through it.

J.B. slipped his gren onto one of the support struts at the back of the room, tying it into place with a rag he picked up from the floor. “When your blast goes off,” the Ar­morer said, “it should free this one. Second blast will catch anybody coming through that door after the first one, or give them more cause to think about coming through so quick.”

“Either way,” Ryan said, “it’ll buy us some time we need.” Before he could drop into the tunnel, blasterfire erupted outside. He returned to the window, puzzled when he didn’t hear the slap of bullets against the building. As he watched, he saw misshapen brutes weaving between the stacks of wrecked wags.

“The ghoulies,” J.B. said. “Guess they got tired of wait­ing for dinner.”

“Bastards move through that wreckage smooth and quiet,” Ryan said. “Good thing we didn’t get caught out there.”

J.B. silently agreed.

The ghoulies shattered Naylor’s defensive line, driving his men out from cover. They fired into the muties, but it was almost like shooting at shadows. The ghoulies were too quick for the sec men, and they swung their axes and makeshift weapons with deadly accuracy.

Without warning, the sec men broke from cover and rushed toward the building where Ryan and J.B. were. There was nowhere else for them to go. The ghoulies stayed hot on their heels.

“Time to go,” Ryan said grimly. He ran for the tunnel and dropped through the hole in the floor. The stench of the dog shit and wet fur filled his nose as his feet squished across the tunnel floor. He reached up to close the trapdoor, shutting the Armorer and himself into the darkness. Work­ing to keep the Steyr clear of the muck below, he put a shoulder against one of the walls and started forward.

The first gren exploded behind him before he’d gone twenty paces. Screams of wounded and dying men rushed down into the tunnel, and the vibrations of the explosion rattled clods of earth from the tunnel’s ceiling. Then all those sounds were temporarily swallowed up by the explo­sion of the second gren.

Ryan kept going forward as fast as he could. Even if Naylor’s sec crew didn’t find the tunnel in the building, there was a chance the ghoulies already knew about it.

HARSH SUNLIGHT lanced into Ryan’s eye as he emerged from the other end of the tunnel. He followed the SIG-Sauer out of the hole, coming up in a blind created behind stacks of wags. “Anything?” he asked.

Blasterfire still sounded in the distance behind him. Bay­ing hounds punctuated the noise, along with the screams of men.

“We appear to be well out of sight here, my dear Ryan,” Doc said. The humid wind whipped at his grayish locks, brushing them across his shoulders. “But I fear that such harbor is fleeting at most. We would best be served by setting about our course again. Whatever that is.”

“The river,” Ryan answered. “Double quick.” He glanced at the men, women and youngsters he’d promised to help, resenting their presence now that he realized they would only slow the companions’ efforts at saving themselves. “Saw some boat docks during an earlier recon. Mebbe we’ll take one for ourselves, see how far we can get.”

“J.B., I want you and Jak walking point. Keep each other in sight, with a forty-yard lead on the rest of us.”

J.B. and Jak took off at once, already knowing from the sun’s position which way the river lay.

“Elmore,” Ryan went on, automatically redistributing his gear and weapons, “you go next. Dean, I want you on him. He makes a move to break free of the group, put a bullet in the back of his head.”

Dean nodded.

Knowing he was putting his son in considerable danger, Ryan went on, “And if he makes a move to hurt you, chill him on the spot.”

“Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll see it done.”

Despite the argumentative look on his face, Elmore moved out, staying the agreed upon distance back from J.B. and Jak. Dean fell in behind him, the Browning looking big in his hand.