James Axler – The Mars Arena

Jak had come the closest to breaking into the camp, but even he had almost been found out before he could get within a hundred yards of the wags. Sec men in hiding had sprung their trap too early. Jak had gotten away, but the episode had let them know Hardcoe’s men considered Ryan and the others as bait, as well as a prize.

A few wags farther down the convoy, Krysty found their captured companions. She focused the binoculars on Ryan, his face visible to her. By his features she knew he was plotting and planning. He hadn’t given up at all.

“It’s them,” she announced to the others. She wished she could tell her lover that they were there, at the very least offer him some words of encouragement. She put those thoughts from her mind and turned to what she could do.

“Ville pretty with lights. Baron must have lots gas and generators,” Jak said. “Not know only chilling waiting inside.”

“Well, against yon walls and phantasmal faery illuminations,” Doc said, “we shall test our mettle and discover if we should be found yet wanting in purpose and desire.”

Jak nodded and looked at Krysty. “Sec tight on bridge. How we cross?”

Krysty put the binoculars away. “On foot. There’s no other choice. We’ll carry as much gear as we can. Darkness should cover us well enough.”

“We’re just going to get caught,” Bernsen said gloomily.

Jak popped the hood on the wag and took the starter coil, pocketing it. Krysty understood enough about mechanics to know that the wag couldn’t start without the coil.

“Leave you here,” the teenager offered.

Bernsen’s mouth opened, and his eyes looked dead. “No.” He mopped his forehead with his sleeve. “No, I’m afraid that won’t do at all.”

Krysty gazed at Jak and Doc. “Strip down your gear. Keep the weapons and medication, anything that will help once we reach Ryan and the others. Everything else we leave here.”

“You realize someone may find the wag,” the scientist interjected.

“Mebbe,” Krysty said. “And mebbe they won’t find it until the Big Game is over and we have the others out. Have to take the chance.”

“This is, I’ve heard,” Doc said, gazing at the ville of lights spread out before them, “certainly the place for taking chances and hoping for long shots to come through.”

The stripping completed, Krysty asked Jak to take point and Doc to keep Bernsen under guard. Then they moved off into the night.

INSIDE VEGAS, the wag carrying Ryan, J.B. and Mildred split off from the others and rolled down the cracked and crumbled streets. A contingent of pedestrian sec men fell into a jog beside the wag, their gear rattling as they moved. Most of the street signs were up, and Mildred read them off with growing confidence. Several of the streets were too cracked up to be passable by wag. Two-by-twelve boards lay across the cracks, supported by piles of rock and bricks that had been gathered from the debris left by the tumbledown buildings.

The wag slowed as it made its way across the makeshift bridges. The boards creaked under the weight.

“I know where we’re at,” Mildred said.

“Where?” Ryan peered forward. The brightness of the neon lights increased and the range of colors incredible.

“South Las Vegas Boulevard,” Mildred replied. “Back in my day, they called it the Strip.” She pointed. “See? Over there is the MGM Theme Park.”

Ryan peered in that direction, barely making out the framework of the building. As his eye grew used to the darkness to their right, he spotted the massive statue of a lion toppled over in the street in front of the structure. The huge head had broken off and was separated from its body by dozens of yards. A scar tracked its right cheek, deep and irregular enough to have been caused by a mortar round.

On the north side of the building, perhaps as much as fifty feet of railing stuck out from the ground floor and traveled due north. Weeds, trees and brush had scrambled up between the cracks of the broken streets and structures, filling the neon-lit ville with clumps of forest.