“No.” He tossed the broken weapon aside.
“Yeah, the gren did a good job on him,” Ryan agreed. “Like it was supposed to do on us.”
“Simple enough trap,” said the returning Armorer, clutching his fedora. “When we approached, the chill swung down, and everybody would naturally shoot at him. Then when you put enough holes in the ropes, he drops the grens and goodbye.” Smoothing out the crumpled brim, he smiled grimly. “Exactly the sort of thing I’d do.”
Blaster in hand, Dean moved to inspect the corpse. Chunks of the man were missing, his clothes only rags, and the ropes holding him in place were burning in spots, allowing an arm to hang freely. What little remained of his clothes appeared to be a tan leather jacket, blue jeans and sandals made from car tires. Only one sandal was still on a foot, the other, and the foot inside it, were missing.
Pushing aside the homemade tan jacket, Doc uncovered a picture on the exposed chest of a curved knife backed by the rising sun. “What is that?”
Jak squinted against the candlelight. “Knife and sun?”
“Looks like,” J.B. said, adjusting his hat to a proper cant.
“It’s not paint,” Ryan stated, trying to rub it off with a thumb. “Can’t be a birthmark.”
“This is a tattoo,” Mildred said knowledgeably. She brushed fingertips over the cold torn flesh. “A lost art these days. See the ulcerations and pitting? It was done with a sharp pencil and machine oil. Very crude and must have hurt worse than double hell.”
“Some sort of initiation?” Krysty asked.
“Mayhap. And more importantly, very difficult for an outsider to forge,” Doc noted. “Good way to identify your own people.”
“Not exactly a photo ID,” Mildred added, inspecting the lividity of the flesh, “but efficient.”
“Exactly.”
“ID means more than two,” J.B. stated, glancing about.
“Yes, there could be a lot,” Krysty agreed. Holding her S&W in a steady grip, she dumped the spent cartridges, trained hands pocketing the spent brass and sliding in fresh rounds.
“Wonder if the others had similar marks,” Ryan mused, scratching his chin. “If not, they were probably invaders fighting for turf. If so, it was a mutiny.”
Doc sighed. “Internecine, the most uncivil of wars.” Gently he prodded the corpse with his swordstick, a few more pieces coming off from the movement. “However, it would be rather valuable data to know if we are facing two gangs, or just one.”
“I can check,” Mildred offered, puffing a flashlight from her med kit. There was a click and a brilliant cone of white light leaped from the device in her hands, illuminating the corridor with unforgiving clarity.
“Go,” Ryan commanded.
Mildred nodded. “Be right back.” As she hurried away, the circle of light on the hallway walls bobbed until it angled to the right and disappeared. With the departure of the flash, the darkness seemed even more pronounced than before.
“How’d she get batteries?” Dean asked.
“Doesn’t need any,” Krysty replied. “When you were at school, Mildred saved the life of the captain of a steamboat. He gave her the flash as payment. It doesn’t use batteries. Recharges in sunlight.”
“Wow.”
“Here,” Jak said, passing the boy his own candle. “Hold high.”
Dean did as requested, and the albino teen carefully rummaged through the pockets of the dead man. There was some twine knotted into a garrote, a big gold coin embossed with an American eagle on one side and a Nazi swastika on the back, a few 5.7 mm cartridges, a Swiss army knife and a plastic butane lighter, the clear plastic reservoir half full of fuel. He pocketed the lighter and offered the rest to the others. Even though they were the wrong caliber for his Browning, Dean took the cartridges and stuffed them into his already bulging vest. He could extract the powder and primer later for his own bullets. Doc accepted the knife. Nobody took the gold.
“Amazing little thing,” Doc said, opening and closing the many small blades. “My daughter would have loved this. She so liked gadgets and such.” He glanced about, his voice taking on a gentler, slightly confused tone. “My, I wonder where she, Jolyon and her mother are? It has been hours since I saw them last.”