Atlantis Reprise

by James Axler

  But there were others who thought differently. Affinity led them through another tangle of streets, avoiding opening fissures and throughways blocked by falling masonry, forced by circumstance to take a circuitous route back toward the maze. It was on rounding another corner that seemed to take them backward that they walked into trouble.

  Three Crawlers faced them. Flanking the dark-painted warriors were two temple guards with handblasters. Although the Crawlers had only blades, they stood their ground, not advancing immediately for hand-to-hand combat.

  The temple guards fired off three rounds each, causing the companions to dive for cover. Ryan, Affinity and Doc ended up on one side of the road, sheltering in the shattered open front of a store. Mildred, Jak, J.B. and Krysty were on the far side, covered by the end wall of a house that had otherwise collapsed. Krysty had been slow to react, and in pulling her clear Mildred had taken one of the rounds high up in the arm.

  It was a flesh wound, and the slug had passed clean through, but the sudden agony was like a red-hot poker pushed through her bicep. The arm was pouring blood, and was momentarily useless. With her useable arm, she clawed at her coat, reaching for the dressings she kept squirreled away within. The old vacuum-packed dressings were medicated, and if she could just staunch the wound for now and dress it, then she could attend to it properly when there was more time and greater safety.

  Tears pricked at her eyes and she swore loudly as she pulled the pack open with her teeth. Krysty watched her and, despite her own state of lethargy, seeing Mildred in trouble seemed to stir something within her. Shaking off the hesitancy that had marked her demeanor since they had found her, she moved across to Mildred and, without a word, helped her to dress the wound.

  J.B. watched. Mildred was out of action, and Krysty was next to useless right now. If they stayed where they were, in cover, that was okay. It left Jak and himself on this side, with Ryan, Doc and Affinity on the far side of the road. Doc seemed to be almost back to his old self, and had shown his usual grit in tackling the temple locks. Affinity had also borne up better than the Armorer had feared when they had started out.

  That made five on five. Good odds. But they’d better get this firefight started or else the whole damn ville would fall in beneath their feet, and it would all be for nothing.

  Setting the mini-Uzi to rapid fire, J.B. poked the nose of the SMG around the corner of the wall, firing off a covering burst. Easing his finger on the trigger, he risked a look. He was greeted with a sight that caused him to exclaim out loud.

  ‘Dark night! Where have all the rad-blasted fuckers gone?’

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Ryan heard J.B.’s exclamation and turned to Doc and Affinity. ‘Back entry, now,’ he snapped, moving to the rear of the old store, indicating that the two men flank the rear entry.

  If the road outside was empty, then the enemy was planning to attack from the rear. Given the mesmeric powers of the Nightcrawlers, Ryan couldn’t allow them to sneak up or to gain the upper hand. To do so would be to voluntarily buy the farm.

  While Doc and Affinity flanked the door, Ryan scaled the staircase on the left-hand side of the store. It was open to the rest of the room, which was good. The last thing he wanted was to try to tackle it blind, coming face-to-face with the enemy.

  All the while, they could feel the ground shifting beneath them as the old tunnels and sewers began to collapse under the surface. No time to think about that; only time to focus on what was going on aboveground, not beneath.

  Ryan took the stairs three at a time, the Steyr off his shoulder. If he was lucky, then he would reach the upper floor before the Crawlers or temple sec. If not, then… He didn’t want to think about that as an option.

  The upper floor was deserted, with no place to hide. It was an open plan, as the ground floor, and used as a storeroom, with sacks of flour, dried fruits and dried meats piled on the floor space. The room smelled sweet and sour, the air dry. It was also empty.

  Two windows to the rear, about fifteen feet apart. Which one should he take? Better to stay back, keep both covered. He knew that the Crawlers were silent runners, and over the noise coming from outside there was no way that he would be able to hear them. Wait for the first sight. He would only have problems if they appeared in both spaces at the same time.

  Ryan cursed out loud as that very thing happened. He should have known his luck wouldn’t hold. A Crawler to the left and a sec man to the right, the latter blowing hard from trying to keep pace with the considerably fitter comrade. Balance against this the fact that the Crawler only had a blade, while the sec man carried a blaster.

  Weighing the odds in less time than it would take him to verbalize them, Ryan opted for the sec man first. A shell from the Steyr took off the top of the man’s skull, sending him pitching back to the street below. A rapid adjustment to his aim and another shot snatched off at the Crawler.

  A yelp of surprise and pain escaped him as a blade plucked at his arm. It sliced through material and took off the top layer of skin, but no more. Enough, though, for his shot to fly wide and the Steyr to drop from his grasp. Enough for the Crawler to be through the window, headed for him.

  Ryan fumbled for the panga, momentarily off balance. He knew even as his fingers found the hilt that he wouldn’t be quick enough, and braced himself for attack.

  A deafening roar came from behind him and the Nightcrawler looked down in surprise to see a ragged red hole torn in his body paint as a full shot load from Doc’s LeMat ripped through him, pulping his internal organs and splintering his rib cage. He hardly had the time to register his shock before the life drained from him.

  Ryan turned to see Doc standing on the top stair, a determined look on his face. ‘I told you to stay down there,’ Ryan yelled.

  Doc shook his head. ‘I could not. You may not understand why yet, but I have much to atone for. This is a start.’

  Ryan was puzzled by the old man’s words, but there was no time for explanation. Without answering, he scrambled to his feet, grabbed the Steyr and ushered Doc down into the main body of the store. Affinity was still guarding the rear entry. He greeted them with a questioning glance.

  ‘Two down. Anything out there?’ Ryan snapped. Affinity shook his head. ‘Right, only one way to find out,’ Ryan said, flexing his wounded arm and unholstering the SIG-Sauer. Blood ran down his sleeve, his arm was stinging from the flesh wound, and his patience was exhausted. They had to get out of this ville before it fell into the ground, and there was no way that he was going to waste any more time than was necessary.

  Using the pain and anger to fuel his actions, Ryan strode up to the rear door and raised his left leg. One strong kick and it was open. There was no immediate response, so he took a roll into the alleyway, coming up against the far wall, sweeping the blaster from side to side.

  The only body in the throughway was the chilled corpse of the sec man.

  ‘Fuck it, the other three must be after J.B.’s team,’ he snapped at Doc and Affinity, who were still within the store. Doc had an eye on the front.

  ‘No sign of them,’ he mused. ‘Perhaps they always believe in attacking from the rear. Many have found it the safest, I suppose.’

  NO SOONER had J.B.’s exclamation escaped his lips than he had fallen back into the gap between the buildings where they were holed up. He exchanged glances with Jak and started to move toward the far end of the wall. There was a hole halfway down, where falling masonry had punched a gap in the remaining structure. Jak paused before crossing. It would give him a good view of any incoming, but would also leave him exposed as a target.

  He risked a brief look around the cracked stone edge, receiving a face full of dust and stone chips for his effort, kicked up by a ricochet from the sec guard’s blaster. Nonetheless, it had told him just what he wanted to know—the sec man was in the main body of the ruined building, and Jak had also caught sight of one Crawler in the wreckage. Two where he could get them. He wasn’t going to wait for t
hem to come to him, like some wide-eyed creature caught in a wag’s headlights, ready to be roadkill.

  Jak rolled over the lip of the gap, ignoring the dust kicked up around him by off-target shooting. There was enough cover for him here, and as he came up onto his haunches he already had the Colt Python in his grasp. One sight was all he required. He snapped off a shot that took out the sec man. But there was no sight of the Crawler.

  Jak allowed himself a humorless grin. This would be an interesting battle of stealth skills.

  In the throughway beyond, J.B. was alarmed to see Jak disappear into the building. He swore softly, realizing that there was nothing he could now do to help the albino. Instead he had to concentrate on the throughway. He checked the mini-Uzi, which was still on rapid fire. Any bastard who appeared in the alleyway would be chopped in two. But could he risk Jak suddenly appearing through the gap and getting cut down by friendly fire?

  He shouldn’t have thought about it. His attention distracted for just a second, he was astounded when he looked up to see a Crawler bearing down on him. In the distance he could hear the roar of Doc’s LeMat, but found he couldn’t summon the will to squeeze the trigger and fire at the oncoming Crawler. The mesmeric glance had him before he even had a chance to look away.

  Krysty appeared at his side. She had her Smith & Wesson Model 640 grasped in both hands to steady her shaking grasp. From the corner of his eye, he could see that she was looking to one side, to avoid the gaze of the Crawler. Quickly, before she felt compelled to look, she squeezed off three quick blasts.

  J.B. felt the movement tingle back into his limbs. The Crawler had been hit by one of the shots, thrown backward as the .38 slug took a chunk from his left shoulder. It was enough to break the spell. J.B. finished the job with a quick blast of fire that stitched the Crawler from crotch to neck.

  Jak heard the firing, figured it was time to bring this farce to a conclusion. He had been prowling the ruins, listening for the Crawler, who he could hear circling him. He wondered if the Crawler knew he could hear him. Probably not. It was unlikely it would occur to him that anyone could have the same capabilities.

  Jak gambled on this. Knowing the Crawler only had a blade, he stood upright, inviting attack, knowing that he was facing his enemy. The blade flew toward him. Under any other circumstance, it would be a certain chill for the Crawler. At any other time, if it took Jak by surprise, it would be hard for him to escape injury or fatality. But this was different. He had been expecting it, and had marshaled all the concentration he could muster.

  Jak slowed his breathing and the world around him seemed to slow with it. Everything around him except the blade ceased to exist. It came at him in a tunnel of light, slowing as it moved so that he could pick the exact moment at which to pluck it out of the air.

  Pluck it out of the air, spin it in his fingers, and return it from whence it came, using its own momentum to speed it on its way.

  Before the astonished Crawler had a chance to move, the blade buried itself in his breastbone. He fell backward. Before he even hit the rubble beneath him, Jak was standing over him, the Colt Python directed at his adversary’s skull. Fractionally, as the dying man tried to save his own life, Jak felt something clutch at his consciousness, directing him not to fire.

  The Nightcrawlers had never had to use their powers on the Memphis dwellers, and only felt fit to use them when up against a superior enemy. Now it was too late even for that. Jak ignored the feeble clutches, and fired.

  Game over.

  THE TWO GROUPS EMERGED into the main street, too cautious to assume that the other had completely disposed of the threat, yet driven by the need to move quickly.

  ‘All in one piece, more or less,’ Ryan said with some humor, showing his own wound to Mildred as he noted her dressing. ‘Let’s keep it that way.’

  The route back to the maze became more labyrinthine as they tried to progress: more of the roadway was falling into the earth. That which was still intact was often covered with debris from buildings that had been toppled by similar cave-ins. There was little sign of any life, now. The only Atlanteans they could see were those who had already bought the farm, or those who had been injured in the land and building collapses and were close to death. Certainly no one who could oppose them. Their only enemies now were time and the perilous state of the ville.

  Ryan was thankful that they had Affinity with them. The young man was sure-footed, and when they hit a dead end he was able to backtrack and find an alternative with little pause for thought. They were making progress, but it was stilted, and perhaps not quick enough.

  And when they reached the maze, they had that to contend with once more. There would be no markers left inside, and they would have to negotiate it with failing flashlights and tired reflexes. It was the worst obstacle they could face at this time.

  At least, that was what Ryan assumed. Events were soon to prove him wrong.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  ‘Oh, great, just when I thought things couldn’t get worse.’ Mildred sighed, unable to keep the sardonic weariness from her voice. ‘At least we won’t have to find our way through that bastard, I guess.’

  They had reached edge of Atlantis and were confronted with a set of obstacles that they could never have imagined. For some reason, which had little to do with logical thought, they had assumed that the booby traps laid by Odyssey to undermine the ville would have ended at the point where the chem-damaged wasteland stretched out to the enclosed labyrinth.

  The insane megalomaniac leader, however, had harbored different ideas. For him, the maze was the delineation of his territory, and he had extended his chain of explosives to run beneath the labyrinth. The signs hadn’t been good for the companions as they reached the edge of the built-up area. They had been greeted by the sounds of crashing masonry, coming from in front of them. At this point, it would have been safe to assume that any such noises would be at their backs. Unless…

  They came face-to-face with the ruins of the maze. Parts of it had already disappeared into the gaping holes that were opening up in the earth. Other sections remained, but were distorted and crushed out of shape by the damage and stress of moving ground.

  Perhaps this could have been a good thing. With the maze now in pieces, the roof fallen in and many of the movable walls no longer in place, it was in theory easier for them to pick their way through. If that had been the only damage, then it would have been simple. But it wasn’t.

  The chem-damaged earth was brittle, the soil hard-packed but dry and prone to crumble to dust when disturbed or given space. The fissures that had been opened up by the collapsing sewers and tunnels beneath the ground had given the fragile earth plenty of space to move, and it had taken this option to an alarming degree. Large cracks split the ground in front of them, in places almost three feet in width, breaking up the remaining ground into tiny islands. The edges of these were visibly crumbling, and there was no way of knowing how fragile these islands may prove to be. To get across to the maze area, and a potentially safer ground, they would have to risk leaping from island to island, hoping that it wouldn’t collapse beneath them.

  They could tell some of the islands were obviously safe as they were already being traversed by wild beasts that had been freed from the maze by the collapse of the structure. Some they had chilled on their way in, others had perished beneath falling walls and sinking earth. But many still survived, and howled pitifully as they gingerly stepped from island to island. At first glance they seemed to be helpless, blinking in a light that was almost blinding to those who had spent so long in darkness, tentative in a world that was larger than that to which they had been so long accustomed.

  Yet they were still savage beasts, for as soon as they caught wind and sight of the group of seven standing at the edge of the open ground, their snouts were raised, their cries became higher and more keening, and their determination to get across the islands became doubled.

  Ryan swore to himself. They coul
d stand here and pick off the creatures, but that would take time. If they waited too long, all the islands would collapse, and the ground rolling beneath their feet suggested that rest of the ville wouldn’t be far behind. They had no choice but to try to move across the rapidly diminishing ground while avoiding or chilling the creatures.

  ‘Ryan—we get past, then we take route,’ Jak pointed out.

  Ryan looked at him. Could the albino be memorizing each island that the creatures were using safely? Jak’s eyes were fixed on the creatures, and Ryan had no doubt that this was the case.

  ‘Okay, let’s go,’ he said decisively, making to take the first island. Jak held him back.

  ‘No—let me. Fucker collapses, mebbe I’m quicker than dust.’

  With a fleeting grin, Jak took the first step onto one of the islands, his blaster ready to take out any of the creatures that came near. They were spread out across the islands of dust, numbering twelve in total. Some were feral cats bred large, others looked as if they had once been dogs. They were keeping their distance from one another, wary of fighting when a food source was near. That might work in the companions’ favor. If they were too nervous of nearing one another, then they were unlikely to attack as a pack. So it was probable that they would only have to pick off the beasts individually.