James Axler – Way of the Wolf

Aunt Maim glowered at her. “Don’t be difficult, you bitch. Go see to what I’ve asked you to do.”

“Yes, ma’am, but—”

“But nothing.” Aunt Maim swiveled her head back at Ryan and gave a sweet smile. “I shall be quite safe here under Mr. Cawdor’s watchful eye. I think we share a singular view on the world.”

The maid left reluctantly, her cheeks coloring with emotion.

The woman lifted her wineglass. “A toast, then, before we begin this charming meal. To your health—may you keep it.”

Ryan stared at the woman for a moment, then lifted his own glass and sipped when she did. Krysty joined them. “Tell me about the plague,” he said. “How is it spread?”

“Actually,” Aunt Maim said, positioning her soup bowl in front of her with one hand, “I don’t believe there is a plague. I think Kirkland occasionally chooses to infect some of the people in the ville. Usually it’s only people that try to escape Hazard.”

“He doesn’t want them to leave?” Krysty asked.

The woman speared an asparagus chunk with her fork and bit into it with clean white teeth. “If they did, who would he rule?”

Ryan made himself eat. Despite the talk of plague, his lovemaking with Krysty had left him famished. He sawed off a piece of steak and ate it, finding it juicy and tender, not at all like the dry, stringy stock the companions sometimes dropped for a meal.

“If you think the plague is false, why don’t you leave?” Krysty asked.

Aunt Maim sipped more wine. “My handicaps are quite severe.”

“And mebbe you’re in this with Kirkland,” Ryan said.

Color filled Aunt Maim’s pale face. She sat her wineglass down forcefully. “Kirkland and I haven’t seen eye to eye in a long time.” The laughter came from her again, not lasting quite as long this time, but sounding more uncontrollable. She recovered. “Although it seems that eye to eye is the only way I see these days. However, just so you’ll know, rest assured that in my dealings with Kirkland—” she shifted so the shawl fell away from her left side, shoving the stub of her left arm, the sleeve pinned up, through the material, “—that I have found the fucker quite disarming.”

DOC PROWLED through the stacks of books, carrying a lantern. He was drawn by the titles and covers. Nearly every branch of science that he’d ever heard of was represented somewhere in the collection. Albert, Cobb and two of the others sat around a small oval table in the center of the room.

“Got no time for you to be looking through the books,” Cobb growled. He wiped his nose with the back of his arm, brushing away a few drops of blood that continued to seep.

Doc ignored the man. He found a section that held all of George Orwell’s books. Tenderly he took down a slim hardcover edition of 1984.

“Doc,” Albert called.

Gently Doc turned the pages in the book, a passage drifting back into his mind. He remembered reading the novel, but he couldn’t remember when. He shifted his attention to the dwarf and company. ” ‘If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face—forever.’ ” The old man shook his head. “So true, so true. By the Three Kennedys, may you never have known how truly you spake the future.”

Albert crossed the room, stepping into the aisle and into the swell of light that emanated from the lantern. “Doc, tell me how you came to Hazard.” Doc automatically put the book back on the shelf. Despite his best efforts, he felt his mind wandering, crashing through the decades, through all the information that was so mixed up in his head. “Why that’s easy, dear friend. I came through the hole with Alice. No, it was Emily.” Tears suddenly burned into his eyes. “No, no, that’s wrong. Dear, sweet Emily couldn’t come with me this time. Not this time, nor any other.”

“Leave the old bastard alone,” Cobb shouted. “It’s evident he’s fucking crazy.”

Doc focused on the insult, using vestigial anger to crystallize his thoughts. “And you, sir, are an ignoramus and a bounder.”