by James Axler
“For some reason, they don’t like going underground, or the dark,” she said, closing the door and making sure it was locked.
The tunnel was indeed dark. With the door closed, J.B. couldn’t see his hands, even when he held them directly in front of his face. “Anyone have a gas lighter?” J.B. asked.
In answer, a small point of light came on to J.B.’s left, illuminating Jak’s pale figure.
But a moment later another, much brighter light came on in the tunnel. “There’s a few live wires around the falls,” Clarissa said, twisting a plastic connector knob onto the ends of two wires. “You just have to know where to look, and not use so much that Baron Fox would notice someone is stealing juice from him.”
“Wow!” Dean gasped, his neck craning to take in the enormous size of the tunnel.
“Wow indeed,” Doc echoed.
“Big,” Jak said.
They were standing at the bottom of a huge concrete tunnel that was roughly fifty or sixty feet across and stretched out in both directions for what seemed like forever. It was like a redoubt, J.B. thought but the tunnel was completely cylindrical—like a blaster barrel—and there seemed to be no end to it.
“And this carried water to the power stations down-river?” J.B. asked.
“When there was water to be carried there,” she answered.
But despite it being dry, there was still a soft wash of sound echoing through the tunnel, as if the river’s ghost still haunted the caverns beneath the city.
“Now it’s just a safe place to sleep.”
“An excellent idea, my dear,” Doc said.
“What is?”
“Sleep.”
“Be my guest.”
She had transformed a section of the tunnel into a living space, with several sleeping places made of grasses and twigs.
The companions settled in.
THE FOOD in the farm’s cafeteria was as good as one would expect from a farm. The soup and stew had both been made fresh, and Ryan was amazed to find real bits of meat floating around in both.
He took a seat on a bench at one of the tables near the exit, and Brody sat with him. When they’d left the showers, there had been plenty of activity among the sec men as they got rid of Purvis’s body and cleaned the showers for the next crew coming in. Ryan wondered why they didn’t get the slaves to do the job for them, but figured it was easy to keep the man’s death secret from the baron if they handled the problem themselves.
“Nobody will miss Purvis,” Brody explained. “But if the baron catches wind of what happened, he might want an explanation. They’ll tell him the man slipped on some soap and that will be the end of it.”
“But that was what happened,” Ryan said with a wink of his eye.
“You’ll do all right here, Ryan.”
Halfway through the meal, Mildred came and joined Ryan, sitting across the table from him. “Aren’t you eating anything?” Ryan asked when he noticed Mildred had no tray in front of her.
“Nursery workers get fed first, and best,” she said, running a hand over her stomach. “I didn’t think I’d ever eat steak again.”
“How is…?” Brody began, then hesitated, looking around to see if any sec men were listening. “How is Jasmine?”
Mildred looked surprised.
“Mildred,” Ryan said, “allow me to introduce Brody. He’s the mate of the woman you took to the nursery.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Mildred said, shaking the man’s hand.
“Jasmine?” Brody said.
“She’s fine,” Mildred answered. “It was tough going for a while, but she’s doing real well now.”
“And the baby?”
“A boy.”
Brody smiled.
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Ryan said, “but you’re not supposed to have attachments to the children born here.”
“I have a son,” Brody said.
Mildred looked over at Ryan. “That’s right. The baby was taken from the mother and is now being taken care of by someone else in the nursery. I found out when the baby’s six months old he’ll be shipped off to a family down south.”
“No,” Brody said, obviously heartbroken.
“But you knew that would happen?” Ryan said.
“It doesn’t matter if I knew,” Brody answered. “That’s my boy, my flesh and blood. I told myself a thousand times that this would happen, that we’d lose him, and I tried to prepare for it, but nothing can prepare you for losing your child like that.”
Mildred reached over and held Brody’s hand.
Ryan looked at the man, understanding a little of what he was going through. Ryan himself had gone through life in the Deathlands never knowing of the son he had. But then, just days after meeting the ten-year-old child for the first time, there had been a bond between them that grew stronger every day. Brody’s bond with his newborn was being broken against his will and it hurt the man deeply.
“You may be reunited with your woman and your son yet,” Ryan said. “In a couple of days this whole place is going to be turned upside down.”
Brody shook his head in despair and gestured toward Ryan and Mildred. “Who’s going to do it? You two?”
“Mebbe us, mebbe help from outside, mebbe both.”
“You mean there were more out there with you?”
“Four more.”
Brody’s smile was wide and bright. “I’ll help you, then. Whatever you need, I’ll see that you get it.”
“I need you to stay strong,” Ryan said. “For your son.”
Mildred nodded in agreement.
“You got it.”
THERE WAS a knock at Krysty’s door.
“Yes?”
The door opened and a short, heavy bull of a sec man entered the room. “The baron wants you to join him in the cafeteria in twenty minutes.”
“All right.”
“And he wants you to wear this.” The sec man’s lips pulled back to reveal a smile full of black holes and broken teeth. In his grimy hand was what looked like a few slips of black fabric.
“What’s that?” Krysty asked.
“It’s what the baron wants you to wear.”
“But what is it?”
“Clothes for a gaudy slut.”
“And he wants me to wear them?”
“That’s right. He’s gonna parade you around to the slaves as his new prize.”
“And if I don’t put on the clothes?”
“He said I could have you myself,” the sec man said, his big beefy tongue slobbering over his bruised and swollen bottom lip. “So if you don’t want to put it on, I think mebbe we should stop wasting time and get right down to business.”
Krysty considered her options. There was no way she’d let this foul creature lay a finger on her, but even if she resisted all his advances there’d be three more sec men outside the door, all too eager to help him.
“Give them to me!” she snapped.
The sec man looked disappointed but handed over the clothes.
“Wait outside!” she said, pointing to the door.
Reluctantly, the sec man left the room.
THEY CLEARED their food trays and sat back down in their seats in anticipation for the entertainment portion of the evening. The lights in the cafeteria were turned down low, while the lights on the stage at one end of the room were turned up bright.
A middle-aged woman dressed in a black shift walked onstage, and the room slowly grew quiet. “We’re in for a special treat tonight. Instead of our usual show, Baron Fox himself has a special surprise for us.”
Everyone stopped what they were doing and directed their focus onto the stage.
“And now, here he is, the giver of all good things, Baron Fox.”
A round of applause.
The baron walked out onstage with Krysty in tow.
“Krysty!” Ryan exclaimed.
“You know her?” Brody asked.
“That’s his mate,” Mildred answered. “Sh
e was captured with us, but the baron seemed to take a shine to her.”
Ryan turned to Mildred. “What is she wearing?”
“I believe that’s lingerie, and she makes it look good.”
Krysty was wearing a lacy black chemise and panties, and a pair of black mules with three-inch heels.
“Greetings,” the baron said. “Today we were very fortunate to come upon new breeding stock.”
A smattering of applause.
“As you can see, this one is absolutely exquisite. I believe she is the finest female we’ve had on the farm for some time.” He walked around Krysty admiring her form. “But rather than have her placed in gen pop and rutted by any who chose to or for me to choose an exclusive stud, I believe she deserves only the best. For that reason, I’ve decided to hold a little contest, a gladiatorial contest in which the victor will be the only one allowed to rut with the red until she is heavy and an offspring is birthed.”
A wave of excitement seemed to course through the assembled slaves, and the cafeteria was filled with the drone of voices.
“The contest will take place tomorrow afternoon in the courtyard between the main building and the front gate,” the baron proclaimed. “Work will end early so that all may watch.”
That brought a cheer.
When the room quieted, the baron continued. “Fighters will be able to leave the arena by one of two ways. Chilled, or by their own will. The last one left will claim the prize.” He paused to admire Krysty one last time. “Those interested can give their name to Norman Bauer.”
Norman Bauer was standing off to the side of the stage. There was a rush of men heading toward him.
“Survival of the fittest,” Mildred said. “Evolution in action.”
“What do you mean?” Ryan asked.
“Charles Darwin was a scientist during Doc’s time who proposed the modern theory of evolution,” Mildred explained. “His principle of natural selection basically said that the strongest survive, and that a species continues to evolve through natural and sexual selection.”
“Meaning what?” Ryan asked.
“Meaning this contest will determine who among the men here is the strongest and it’s only natural that the strongest male mates with the strongest female so that the species produces the best possible offspring.”
Ryan nodded, then got up from the table.
Brody stood, as well.
“Where are you going?” Ryan asked.
Brody put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “There’ll be at least a dozen men in that ring and every one of them is going to want to chill you. If you’re going to break out of here in the next couple of days, you’ll need to be alive to do it. And to stay alive in the arena, you’re going to need someone watching your back, and that’s me.”
“Thanks, Brody,” Ryan said, grateful to have the help. “You’re a good man.”
“You’re a good man, too, Ryan,” Brody responded. “Let’s just hope that for the sake of your woman, you’re also the best.”
Chapter Twenty
Sec chief Ganley was first off the boat as they came aground on the south shore of Erie Lake. The beach stretched some twenty feet back from the water, and beyond that was a tangle of deadwood and choked forest.
The sun was just beginning to set, and they would have to hurry to set up camp. Ganley posted a pair of guards at opposite ends of the campsite where the beach met the forest, and then led the expedition to find firewood for the night.
Deadwood proved easy to find, and thirty minutes later they had a roaring fire burning on the sand and a rack of sturgeon steaks cooking on a spit.
“What are you hoping to find when we get there?” Ganley asked as the group huddled around the fire waiting for the fish to cook. “What kind of mates do you all want?”
“My woman’s got to have all her teeth!” one of the group called out.
“Mine should have breeding hips,” another said.
“My man’s gotta be strong,” Rhonda said. “Stronger than me.”
“Not many of those around,” someone quipped.
Ganley agreed. “Seeing you in action, Rhonda, makes me think that there is no such man on the planet.”
“No, he’s out there somewhere,” she said, turning to look over the surface of the water. “And I’m going to find him.”
After a moment’s silence, punctuated by the crackling of the fire, Rhonda looked at Ganley and said, “What about you, Chief? What are you looking for on this trip?”
The sec chief smiled. His only intention was to lead the mission and return as many people safely to the village as he could. The thought that he might take a mate back with him had never even occurred to him. “I’m just looking to get you all back to Reichel ville alive.”
“Come on, Chief, you must have a preference.”
“Well, she would have to be healthy, but that’s obvious.” He paused a moment further to consider the question. “I’ve always liked red hair….”
“See, I told you. Everyone has things they like.”
“And dark skin. One or the other.”
“Well,” Rhonda said, getting up to check on the fish. “We’ll see if we can find one or the other for you. Or maybe even both.”
The travelers smiled and laughed.
“Fish is ready,” Rhonda said.
“Eat up, everyone, then get some rest. We’ve got a long day tomorrow, and it starts with the sun.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Ryan spent the night in a cabin with Mildred. After he’d signed up for the contest, several women not yet matched up for the night came around asking Ryan if he’d been spoken for.
“He’s with me,” Mildred said, changing her story from earlier in the day.
“Besides,” Ryan said, “I need my strength for tomorrow and you look like you’d tire me out.”
That sent the women away with smiles on their faces.
Both Mildred and Ryan enjoyed a good night’s sleep, but when the sun came up they were roused out of bed by sec men banging on the side of the cabin.
“We’re burning daylight, people,” the sec man shouted. “If you want to watch the contest today, you’ve got to start work that much earlier.”
The two friends went to the cafeteria for breakfast, and afterward Mildred was led to the nursery and Ryan joined Brody and the rest of his crew out in the orchards.
“Have you ever seen one of these contests before?” Ryan asked Brody as they began pulling weeds.
“A couple times.”
“What are they like?”
“The first one I saw had only two men in it. This couple had been kidnapped on their way south and the woman was put up for battle. Her man signed up, but so did Purvis. This guy put up a good fight, but wouldn’t give up and in the end Purvis had to chill him to make him stop fighting. Thing of it was, I don’t even think Purvis wanted the woman, since she was already a little on the old side.”
“And the other time?”
“This young girl, beautiful in just about every way. More than a dozen signed up for it, but most backed out early when they saw that Mog had entered.”
“Who’s Mog?”
“Big man,” Brody answered. “Stands six-five, six-six, weighs near three hundred pounds. He’s the farm’s alpha male and pretty mean, too, meaner even than Purvis.”
“He’s signed up for this contest?”
“Oh, yeah,” Brody nodded. “He has to if he wants to maintain his position.”
“And how many others?”
“I checked this morning before getting on the wag. Eighteen so far. Might be more, might be less by the end of the day.”
Ryan nodded. “What about weapons?”
“No blasters, of course. But when the contest begins, an assortment of hand weapons will be thrown into the arena, everything from sharp sticks and clubs to chains and maces.”
“So why haven’t the others joined together to get rid of this Mog?”
“There are t
hose loyal to him. They watch his back, and he rewards them with breeders they might not have otherwise.”
“How many loyals does he have?”
“Many, but only three are signed up so far.”
“So that makes four altogether, Mog and his loyals.”
“Yes,” Brody said.
Ryan nodded. “Then our chances are good.”
GANLEY GOT THE BOATS back on the water shortly after the sun came up on Erie Lake.
“With any luck,” he said, “tonight will be the first of many we spend with our new mates.”
A cheer erupted from the two boats, but then quickly died down as the sec chief settled into the regular rhythm of, “Stroke! Stroke! Stroke!” that would have them on the north shore by midafternoon and then on to their destination by nightfall.
THEY USED the Rainbow Bridge to cross the river below the falls, but if they had a wag with them on the way back they would have to try a different route. The Rainbow had been twisted and broken by movement caused by the skydark nukes on either side of the river. The bridge could handle people on foot, but anything heavier, especially a wag, and the whole bridge could collapse into the gorge below.
The Whirlpool Rapids Bridge farther downstream was a possibility, but J.B. didn’t like the creaking sound the steel girders made whenever the wind blew with any strength.
“So even if we find a wag, we might not be able to get back with it,” J.B. stated.
“No, there’s another bridge farther south,” Clarissa reported. “It’s stable and strong. It’s the one Baron Fox takes on his way to the eastern villes all the time.”
J.B. was satisfied.
After crossing over onto the American side, they found the ruins of Niagara Falls Boulevard and took the road east, followed by an ever present gang of muties.
The ville on the American side had sustained more damage than its Canadian counterpart. The houses, all made of wood, had burned to the ground in a firestorm, and the few remaining buildings were scorched black. A fine dust covered the ground and anything that had remained on the street.
They crossed a highway and saw on their left the remains of an airport. They were mostly small planes with single engines, none of them with any weapons. J.B. had often wondered if he could get such a vehicle running, and perhaps even take it into the skies one day, but he knew that such thoughts were best suited for another time, perhaps when the companions were done roaming the Deathlands and he had the time and the patience for such tinkering.