As he came, Ryan threw his head back, arching his spine so that he could thrust
against her as hard as possible. The girl moaned again, and he could feel her
internal muscles fluttering and tightening as she reached her own driving
climax.
They slept until near dawn, when J.B. came and shook Ryan by the shoulder.
“What?”‘,
“Turn out. It’s close to first light. Your duty now. I’ve seen nothin’ and heard
nothin’.”
Ryaa swung out of bed, hastily doing up his trousers.
“One other thing, Ryan,” said J.B.
“What’s that?”
“Sometime last night they locked the door on us, bolted it on the outside. Oh,
and Finn’s out colder than an iced mutie. But I figure he’s goin’ to pull
through. His pulse is still regular and steady. I’ll stay awake.”
“Mebbe wake everyone else,” suggested Ryan, standing up and stretching like a
great cat.
“Yeah,” agreed J.B.
Silently they got ready, leaving their chubby companion snoring quietly on his
bed, his mouth sagging open. As they checked their weapons, Ryan saw that Lori
was looking terrified.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “Just takin’ care.”
She nodded to him, her lips trembling.
Attractive though her gear had been, Ryan had insisted that Lori change before
they’d left the redoubt. The tall blonde now wore dark green combat coveralls
tucked into steel-capped boots of the type that Finnegan and Hennings wore.
She’d kept her little pearl-handled Walther PPK .22 pistol and also the Heckler
& Koch MP-5 SD-2 silenced submachine gun that she’d toted around the stockpile.
“All ready?” he asked.
“Someone movin’ out there,” said Krysty, her ear pressed against the locked
door. “Several people.”
Ryan, who had known Krysty long enough to trust her amazingly acute hearing,
moved to stand by her and saw the dawn’s faint light around the edges of the
door. There was also a crack of light near the center panel, where the thick
wood had split. He put his eye to the crack but couldn’t make out anything.
Quietly he drew his panga and probed at the gap with the long blade, widening
the split a little.
He squinted through it with his right eye.
Someone was standing near the other side of the door, blocking the view. Then
the person moved and Ryan blinked at the sudden brightness. The sun had broken
through the heavy cloud, giving a rare vision of a full dawn. He saw a space of
trampled earth and snow immediately in front of the building; the broken wall,
with its sinister, fire-blackened crucifix, faced him.
In front of the wall a low platform had been contrived from old wooden boxes.
Resembling a rough table, the platform was about six feet by four feet. Several
women, all hooded, were ranged around it, along with their leader, Ezekiel
Herne. The rest of the community stood nearby in a half-circle, hands folded
into their long sleeves.
“What’s goin’ on?” asked J.B.
“Can’t tell. Some sort of ritual. Worshipin’ the dawn or—”
Herne’s ringing voice stopped Ryan’s words. His breath pluming in the bitter
cold, the priest said, “Accept this our sacrifice…the greatest we can offer.
Take our Dark Lord.”
He lifted his hand: Ryan saw that it contained a broad-bladed dagger of
glittering obsidian. The women around the table parted, and at last he could see
the object of their attention.
Bound with black ropes, naked and seemingly unconscious, lay Hennings.
The knife began to descend.
Chapter Fourteen
“Noooooo!”
Ryan’s yell of rage was probably the only thing that could have checked the
falling blade.
There was no time to fire a gun to save Henn, no time to blast open the door and
ice the crazed priest. But the shout made Herne hesitate, and the blade slid
past Henn’s naked chest.
“Krysty, quick!” said Ryan.
The girl didn’t need encouragement. Ryan’s response had been so electric that it
meant instant action.
With long, slender fingers, she gripped the edge of the door where the frame was
warped by the cold. Her eyes closed and her lips tightened. Through gritted
teeth she whispered the incantation to enable her to draw on her hidden power.
“Mother, Earth Mother, help me. Help me… now!” The last word sounded as if it