Death Hunt

by James Axler

  As soon as Jak had entered the hollow, he had made sure that he had leaped over the covered tree roots and had bounded up one of the trees so that he was overhanging the treacherous path beneath, waiting for Doc to enter. He stilled his breathing, his muscles rocklike and immobile as he almost immediately melted into the shadows of the hollow.

  Doc blundered after, the swordstick and the LeMat waving in his hands, trying to control his momentum on the downward slope, lest he trip and fall. Little did he know that was what Jak had in store for him.

  “By the Three Kennedys,” he swore. “The darkness, the darkness…”

  The world around the old man was plunged into a sudden gloom where shadow had substance and substance was only shadow. There seemed to be shapes that loomed out at him from nowhere, then dissipated as insubstantial phantoms. Branches hit him in the face, cutting into his flesh, whipping at his eyes, and he had no idea of where they came from. They were invisible enemies that struck at him from nowhere, when he least expected it.

  Doc tried to concentrate, to keep his mind focused on what he was supposed to be doing, but the fears of unknown and unknowable things that seeped up from the primordial subconscious made him lose all sense of perspective. He stumbled, slowing suddenly, whimpering as he looked rapidly and helplessly around him.

  Ironically, all Jak’s work in preparing the trap and covering the roots with ferns and leaves was wasted. Doc didn’t even look down as he stumbled forward, his feet catching in the twisted root systems that comprised the floor of the hollow, boots snagging and ankles twisting as his forward momentum wasn’t matched by the movement of his entangled feet.

  For one brief, intense second Doc was pulled back to full awareness as the searing pain shot up his calf, then he was pitched forward onto his face, making a surprised noise as the air was expelled from his lungs, the LeMat and the swordstick clattering from his grasp onto the floor of the hollow.

  That one second was enough.

  Jak was down from the tree before the old man’s weapons had even hit, one of the tiny throwing knives in his fist, ready to sever the old man’s windpipe and slice through his carotid artery. Jak would be merciful and make it quick if it was necessary for his survival.

  Doc felt his mane of white hair grabbed and tugged, his head pulled backward at an almost impossible angle, his neck taut so that the artery, veins and Adam’s apple stood out. He felt the coldness of the knife before it even touched his skin.

  “Jak, wait,” he gasped in a strangled breath, eyes bulging in fear. “Wait, hear me out.”

  Jak paused. He had one knee firmly planted in the old man’s back, his head held securely, and the knife at his throat. He could hear the horses at the other end of the hollow, so he knew that they were alone. And there was something about Doc’s tone that was familiar and comforting, as if the old man had regained something previously lost.

  Jak lessened his grip on the old man’s hair slightly, allowing him a little more slack with which to gain his breath and speak a little easier.

  “Make quick,” Jak said softly.

  “Insanity has saved many a man from madness,” Doc said somewhat obliquely, with a rasp to his voice where Jak’s grip had taken its toll. “I fear that, perhaps, mine own brush with the obloquy of the unsettled mind has somewhat dulled the desired effects of friend Ethan’s dastardly tactics.”

  “Sound like old Doc,” Jak whispered in his ear. “Don’t understand fucking word. Make easy…”

  “A fair point, a fair point,” Doc agreed, “but somewhat hard to do when one is facing a certain end and is trying to marshal one’s thoughts. Jak, let me put it like this. I have long since faced up to the fact that my mind has a tendency to wander, and that I am, indeed, a mad old coot, as Dr. Wyeth has been known to charmlessly describe me. In short, I am prone to what we could call, without fear or favor, bouts of madness. Would you agree?”

  Jak grunted his assent, but didn’t loosen his grip any farther. “Make quick,” he reiterated.

  “It is true to say that I wanted to see you dead when I was standing in the sec yard. Indeed, even when I fired at you a few moments ago, I wanted most dearly to see your demise. But something has happened to change that. Coming into here, I was terrified—almost literally out of my mind, I think—and when I fell, then things began to change. Pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that fit together in your head.”

  “Losing me, Doc,” Jak said shortly. “You saying you not want me buy farm?”

  “Yes—no—I mean I did, but no longer. Something has wiped clean the pernicious influence of Ethan’s hypnotism.”

  “Why believe you?”

  Doc shrugged as best he could under the constriction. “There is no reason in the world why you should believe me,” he said softly. “No reason except that it is the truth, and yet I do not know how you could test this without putting yourself at risk.”

  “Then mebbe I should. Quicker, better fighter…only way get me is with blaster. Mebbe I should put to test…”

  Jak let Doc loose and stepped back. The old man struggled to his feet and turned to face the albino, who was now standing a few feet back, knife in one hand, the other dangling loose and empty. He stood, impassive, watching while Doc picked up his swordstick and the LeMat.

  “This is most trusting of you,” Doc murmured.

  The albino shrugged. “Figure could still take you. Anyway, everything say to me truth.”

  Doc allowed himself a crooked smile. “That is nice to know. So I shall warn you to cover your ears. This may be a little loud in here…”

  With which, Doc turned and loosed the shot charge of the LeMat toward the far end of the hollow, to where the horsemen would be waiting, and away from Jak. The sound seemed to blot out all other senses, and Doc then yelled, a blood-curdling scream, into the void.

  “What the fuck—” Jak began. But when Doc turned and smiled at him, that crazy-old-man grin that he had seen so many times, all Jak’s instincts told him that whatever it was that had snapped Doc back to normal, it was no fraud. This was the Doc he knew so well.

  “Just to put them off the scent, dear boy.” Doc grinned. “They will be expecting some kind of firefight or fight to be going on in here, so why not give them that? Besides, it’ll buy us some more time to talk. And we need to, believe me.”

  “Yeah, and you’ll do most,” Jak said with a rare smile from the eyes. “Glad I not have to chill you, Doc.”

  “So am I, dear boy, so am I,” Doc returned with an involuntary shiver. “But this still does not solve our big problem. How do we get out of here without arousing the suspicion of the riders, and how do we deal with Krysty and Ryan?”

  “That two problems, Doc. First one simple. They’re that end—” he pointed to the far end of the hollow, where he had heard the riders travel “—waiting for you to come out winner, or for me to run with you chasing. So we do it that end—” he pointed to the way they came in “—and if you just follow me, then we can lose them. That’s one problem.”

  “Sounds reasonable,” Doc agreed, reloading his LeMat as Jak spoke. “Although I must confess that my first impulse is to go and put a load of shot through those coldhearted scum for making me feel as I did.”

  “Later, Doc,” Jak said with a grim nod of his head. “Save for when sweeter. First get Ryan and Krysty back.”

  “Which may not be as easy as it was with me, I fear,” Doc mused. “Oh the perfect irony of it. My insanity saves me from doing something insane. But they are quite sane, and so the hypnosis may have bitten deep into them. It may not be so easy to shift as it was for myself.”

  “Chance have to take.” Jak shrugged. “If chance four of us kick shit out of Ethan and his sec, much better than two.”

  “I have to say I admire your reasoning,” Doc said with his tongue resting firmly in his cheek. “I would love to show Ethan a thing or two about being on the receiving end of one of his schemes. But that will have to wait. First thing is to actually get to Ryan and
Krysty.”

  “Not problem,” Jak replied. “As soon as heard first shot, bet changed direction to move in here.”

  “In which case, we’d better get moving, dear boy,” Doc mused. “We need to try to capture Ryan and Krysty.”

  “Leave to me, Doc. Not want to make hunters too suspicious.”

  Doc shook his head. “No,” he said in a considered tone. “No, I think it would be best if we approached them together. At the moment, they feel that we are all against you. They feel that because it has been implanted in their minds. We have to undermine that, to make them see that you and I are now fighting together—just as we all did, and will again.”

  Jak shrugged. “Mebbe so, but got to do that and stop Ethan’s sec seeing it and firing on us.”

  Doc clapped Jak on the shoulder. “Ah, dear boy, did anyone ever tell us that it was going to be easy? But the harder the struggle, the greater the prize. Now run, dear boy, run as swiftly as the wind, though not so fast that I cannot keep up,” he added with a wry grin.

  “Okay, let’s go,” Jak said.

  The albino took off for the opening to the hollow through which they had both entered, being careful to avoid the covered root systems. Doc followed, wincing at the pain he felt in his ankle and calf from the fall he had taken. It hurt, but it wasn’t enough to slow him, and he hoped that he would be able to keep up with Jak.

  Jak came out into the light, running for a crop of trees on the far side of the path where he had first ambushed Doc. It seemed a little self-defeating to head back that way, but there were tall trees that he could climb to find Ryan and Krysty’s position; and they wouldn’t be expecting him to double back as they closed in on the hollow, following the sounds of Doc’s LeMat. This would buy Doc and himself just enough time to formulate some kind of plan. Which one of the companions would they tackle first, if they had the chance? For surely they couldn’t take them both on and expect to come out of it still standing.

  He looked back over his shoulder and could see Doc chasing after him. The old man was limping slightly from his injury, but was gamely keeping pace with the albino. As Jak looked back, so Doc, too, cast a glance over his shoulder to see where the hunters were. They were barely visible, circling around from the far end of the hollow. The baron and the trader were excitedly yelling at each other, their words lost over distance. But it was noticeable to both companions that Horse, bringing up the rear, was silent. The dreadlocked sec chief wouldn’t be easy to deceive as they put their plans into operation.

  Jak and Doc against Ryan and Krysty would be hard enough, Doc’s relative weakness evening the score, if not turning it in their pursuer’s favor. But Jak and Doc against Ryan, Krysty, and nine mounted and armed men? That was putting them in a ridiculous situation.

  Jak sprinted across the relatively open patch of ground, flinching when he heard the ball chamber of the LeMat detonate behind him, but unable to resist a wry chuckle when foliage in front and the left of him fell victim to the shot. If Doc wasn’t careful, his deliberate misses would become a little too obvious.

  Jak reached the cover of the trees and took a running leap at the tallest, grabbing an overhanging branch and hauling himself up into the upper reaches. He watched Doc reach the cover, and put down an arm to help the older man as he struggled, unable to get a sufficient push from his injured leg.

  As Doc settled in the canopy cover beside him, Jak gestured for him to be silent. They sat and watched as the three horsemen entered the cover, the baron and the trader cursing as the lower branches hit out at them when they passed through.

  “Where have those tiresome beasts gone?” the inbred baron asked. “This is really too bad. It’s not turning out quite as I would have hoped.”

  “They must have cut through quicker than we can. They’re on foot,” Horse said placatingly. “Let’s press on through there,” he added, indicating a channel through the trees, “see if we can pick them up on the far side of this.”

  “That’s if they don’t double back again,” the trader muttered.

  “Not likely. They’re on a straight chase this time. We can’t make that kind of mistake again,” Horse said firmly, unaware of the two men above his head and the unintentional irony of his words.

  Jak and Doc stayed still until the three horsemen were out of earshot, and then the albino moved swiftly and silently into the top of the tree. Doc waited patiently until he descended once more.

  “Ryan is at three o’clock, Krysty at seven,” Jak said. “He has more cover, but she’s going to be easier to take because we can use the raccoons.”

  “Pardon?” Doc questioned, wide-eyed.

  Jak laughed. “Surprise had for Ryan, but things not gone to plan. We use them to run the horsemen away, give us time with her.”

  Doc shrugged. “Dear boy, I am currently in the dark, but I will trust your judgment. Lead on, and just tell me what you require me to do.”

  Jak dropped through the branches to the forest floor, followed by Doc. This wasn’t going to be easy, but if anything was to aid them, then speed would be of the essence.

  Chapter Thirteen

  After the dust had settled and the noise had retreated into the hollow ringing of complete silence, it took Mildred and Michaela a few seconds to gather themselves and make their way across to the gray concrete buildings that held the key to getting J.B. on his feet.

  The ruins of the old city were still and quiet, with nothing to hinder their progress or to sidetrack them into unnecessary wastes of time. And yet it still seemed as though they couldn’t move fast enough over the rubble-strewed streets. It was only a five- to ten-minute trot with the gurney, but still it seemed to Mildred that it took so much longer. She was aware of the sun above them sinking slowly as twilight began to fall. She was aware of the still and quiet from the waxy-skinned Armorer, even his fever-induced ravings now stilled as he entered into the next stage of his infection.

  Time seemed almost like a solid, palpable thing. There was so little of it, and with each step she was aware of thin slices being shaved from it by the razor of entropy, slowly reducing the block left until it would be reduced to nothing, or an infinitesimally thin slice that could be infinitely subdivided forever on a subatomic level, but would mean very little in the harsh reality of the ruined city, where J.B. would buy the farm and she and Michaela would succumb to the first stages of the now infectious disease. And as for the others, out wherever they may be, hunted by Ethan’s men and those who had paid him.

  Mildred gritted her teeth and shook her head, cursing to herself. Dammit, if she thought too long and hard about all this, it could make her as crazy as Doc. Come to that, some of the things that had just been going through her head had been as crazy as some of the things she’d heard him say over their time together. She hoped he was doing okay, that all the others were, and that she would have a chance to see them again.

  That was why she had to keep going, to forget about anything else except putting one foot in front of another as she and Michaela made their way across the ruined sidewalks and blacktopped streets to the old hospital buildings.

  “Second one along—the basement’s through a strong room door at the back,” Michaela gasped from behind Mildred as they approached the trio of buildings. The girl sounded breathless, tired. Mildred became aware of the fast pace she had been setting, expecting the healer to keep up, and a pang of conscience pricked at her. But then again, there wasn’t the time to be nice.

  The two women, J.B.’s gurney suspended between them, made their way through the burned-out frontage of the building. Mildred could see that at one time it had been the reception area of a private clinic or research facility. The remains of office furniture and sofas for clientele still littered the front of the building, while the bleached-out remains of framed prints either still hung—by some miracle—on the walls or lay on the floor.

  “No one’s bothered to tidy up lately,” Mildred remarked. It drew a small chuckle from the healer.


  “After Bones first found this place, it wasn’t long before Ethan stopped anyone except himself, Bones and a few trusted sec men from coming here. Even I’ve only been here once, when Bones showed me where they got the stuff I was using in the ville. Truth to tell, I don’t think he was supposed to have even done that.”

  Mildred refrained from comment, but she was glad that the old man had sometimes broken the rules, and for all his faults she wished for a moment that she had been able to do more to try to save him when the bats had attacked.

  “Through the back, over on the left,” Michaela prompted, breaking Mildred’s train of thought.

  As they entered the rear of the facility, it was obvious that this was the area that, predark, the public hadn’t been meant to see. There was little left of any note, but Mildred could see that this had been sparse and functional, desks and spaces where old computers had been looted. And, away where Michaela had directed her, there stood the vast metal door that guarded the entrance to the basement and the labs themselves, where the real work had gone down.

  The door had once been painted to match the walls, but where they had merely faded over the years, the paint had eroded and peeled from the door, leaving the metal exposed with only a few flakes to note its previous color. The lock mechanism was hidden in the doorjamb and lintel, with only a keypad to the left to indicate how the door was opened.

  “You know the code, I take it,” Mildred commented as they approached.

  Michaela made a noise that suggested she didn’t. Mildred turned to her, her eyes flashing angry. “Then what—” She stopped when she saw the sly smile on the healer’s face.

  “You won’t believe this, but it doesn’t need one. The lock is broken. All we’ve got to do is open it.”

  Mildred couldn’t quite believe it would be this simple, that the sec door designed to guard the labs from prying eyes could be so open now, so accessible. She lowered her end of the gurney onto the carpeted floor, covered in dust and debris, and put her hand on the handle of the door, resisting the temptation to even reach for the keypad, which she did almost as habit.