J.B. stepped into Ryan’s hands and scrambled up as he was pushed along. He reconned the top, then gave Ryan a thumb’s-up. “Ace on the line. We’re clear.” He offered his hand down.
“In a minute,” Ryan said, unbuckling his pants. “Got something to take care of.” It was almost too bastard cold to piss, but he managed. His urine smoked as if it were on fire, splattering the ground in a wide puddle. When he finished, he buttoned up his pants again, then took the hand the Armorer extended.
At the top of the wall, Ryan looked back down on the puddle of piss. It was barely noticeable under the cover of shadows.
“A few minutes at this temperature,” J.B. said, “that’s going to freeze up real nice.”
“Hope so. Be a nice surprise for the first brushwooder or two who happen up on it. If we get lucky, mebbe it’ll take out the ramrod.”
He found Jak’s next mark, then turned his steps in that direction. Krysty and the others couldn’t be much farther ahead.
Chapter Six
Krysty pushed herself against the wind as fast as she could, taking time only to make sure each footfall landed on solid ground. They were up in the crown of the mountains now, and the crevasses that had resulted from the quakes and the volcanic pressures cropped up more frequently.
Jak and Mildred had gone off in a northerly direction to check out another route open to them. She still had fifteen minutes before they were supposed to return to report their findings.
The valley between the gap-toothed peaks she was using as her compass points suddenly split into two again. She turned up the collar of her coat. The thought of Ryan out there unprotected against the elements didn’t sit well.
“Gaia watch over him,” she said, “because I’ve never loved anyone more.” The wind whipped her words out of her mouth, battered them into nothing.
“What’s that, my dear?” Doc asked from behind her.
“Wishful thinking.”
The old man came up beside her, his head pulled down into his coat and his hands jammed into his pockets. He held his walking stick up under his arm. The butt of his .63 Le Mat blaster stuck out from between the buttons of the coat. “Not upon a star, though, I see. It comes to mind that with the seeming scarcity of the mercury’s ability to hit the scarlet field at all upon this night, and with the stench of sulfur from the volcanoes so like brimstone, one could truly say it is as cold as hell upon this mountain.”
Krysty ignored the comment and considered the two options before her.
Both chasms led through the rock, angling down.
“Pardon, dear lady, I know your mind is not entertained a whit by my self-indulgent observations.”
“Not your fault, Doc. I’m just worried about Ryan.”
“Think not upon that. He’ll be along in short order, I’m sure.”
Krysty knew Doc was trying to make her feel better, but he was also sincere. She let out a tense breath. “I know. Mebbe I’m just more worried about us getting trapped up here.”
“We’ve options open to us yet that remain unexplored.” Doc gestured at the narrow defiles standing dark and empty before them.
“So which way?”
Doc peered at the two trails. “Neither of them appear to be heavily trod thoroughfares. But the one on the right beckons because it appears rather bleaker and even more deserted.”
“Let’s get it done.” Krysty pulled out her blaster. “Double red, Doc. We haven’t run into any more of those flying things Jak turned up, but that doesn’t mean they’re not around.”
“Sally forth, brave lass, and know that I stand at the ready in your service.”
Krysty headed forward, crunching her boots over loose, broken rock. She kept the .38’s hammer eared back, and her eyes shifting back and forth to pick up any movement with her peripheral vision.
The mountain quivered unexpectedly, like an old dog staving off its death throes one more night. But it was enough to knock Krysty from her feet.
“By the Three Kennedys!” Doc roared, tumbling to land on the stone.