Thunder Road (27 page)

“No, Howard. It’s over. And it’s best this way.”

“But…but you’re my friend,” Howard said in a small voice that bespoke of the child that he still remained. For a moment, Krysty could almost feel sorry for him. He hadn’t asked to be mentally twisted as he was.

“No, Howard,” Sid said softly. “We were never friends. Hammill and myself like you in the sense that you are an innocent corrupted by things of which you have no knowledge, and could not help. But you are dangerous, and we have still been your slaves.”

“It’s time to bring this to an end. We want to rest,” Hammill said. “Thank you, Krysty. Your friends will be here soon. I have opened the base to the outside world, and will guide them here.”

Howard’s face changed. No longer the bewildered child, he was now the spoiled brat deprived of his toys, unable to get his own way.

“Bitch,” he stormed, lunging at Krysty with a strength born of rage. He was faster and harder than she had expected, and—taken by surprise—she was taken off balance.

As she tumbled backward, her head striking the wall and seeing stars, she hoped that she would be able to hold him off just long enough for Ryan to arrive. His hands tightened around her throat, and the periphery of her vision began to blacken.

R
YAN LOOKED AROUND
. The interior of the old ranch house was derelict, falling to pieces. Except for the centerpiece of the staircase, which would once have risen majestically through all levels of the building. Now it stood alone. So why was the fireblasted thing so impervious to age when all around had crumbled?

“The entrance—it’s got to be there,” he said. Looking around, he could see J.B., Jak, Mildred and Doc nearby, with Rounda. Bryanna was a little apart, talking in low tones to a Robear who looked less than happy.

“Hey, time to stay together,” Ryan directed at her.

“It’s gone quiet,” she countered, ignoring his implication. “Why is that? Shouldn’t we be taking cover?”

“From what?” J.B. questioned. “The defenses face out, and they’re dead now—” the silence as the SMGs had ceased was almost eerie “—and the only way in is through there.” He gestured at the stairwell. “They know we’re here, and we know we’ve got to get in. Time to worry is when we blast the fucker down, not now.”

Bryanna opened her mouth, as if about to speak, but was forestalled by the soft whirring of well-oiled machinery. Ryan gestured them to as much cover as was available, and they were poised to fire on whatever came out of the opening entrance.

But the door remained open, with no indication of life beyond. Ryan and J.B. exchanged glances, then moved forward, covering each other as they advanced. The inside of the corridor that led downward was well lit, and they could see that it was empty. The last thing they expected was the voice of Sid, coming at them from inside.

“Welcome. Your caution is understandable, but you have nothing to fear. It is imperative that you enter immediately. Krysty is being attacked and requires your assistance. Furthermore, this base is set to self-destruct within an hour. You must trust me.”

His tone of voice on the last few words showed how ridiculous Sid knew this to be. But he also knew that he must make them believe him, and with no time for explanations.

“Very well.” The voice sighed. The sound of creaking machinery made them look around, and they could see that the emplacements nearest the lip of the valley in which the ranch house lay had swiveled to face inward, and were now pointing down. The voice continued. “I did not wish to take away your element of choice, but there is not time. In thirty seconds, the guns will start to fire if you do not enter.”

He let the implication sink in. Ryan looked at the others. He didn’t know the tech-nomads well enough, but knew that his own people would rather take a chance and risk a hand-to-hand fight any day. Corwen’s two parasails were overhead, circling as Ryan had requested, but could they swoop down and bomb the emplacements before damage was done? It wasn’t worth taking that chance.

No words needed to be exchanged. Ryan went in first, Jak following behind, Mildred, then Doc, with J.B. covering the rear. It was best to rely on themselves first. Rounda needed no prompting, however, and was on their tail. It was Bryanna who held back, holding back Robear, waiting to see how the land lay.

It lay well. As they entered, they encountered no opposition, nor did they expect to, after the first couple of moments.

It seemed almost anticlimactic, yet not a surprise. For a while, Ryan and Doc had both suspected that the redoubt had no one except the mystery rider and Krysty inside—plus whoever the voice belonged to—and now that they were actually in the heart of the redoubt, the feeling of complete emptiness only confirmed this. It was instinct long born out of experience that made them feel the voice had not lied. The place was chilled already, and felt like it had been for some time.

Ahead of them, lights flashed on and off, seeming to beckon to them. Still maintaining some caution, Ryan led them down the lighted path, mindful also of the urgency with which the voice had spoken.

“H
ANG ON
, K
RYSTY
, help is on its way,” Sid’s voice said, the frustration at his lack of corporeal form evident in his tone.

She hoped he was right. She could feel her consciousness slipping away, and with each moment that she grew weaker so Howard’s grip grew stronger, hastening her demise.

And then there was a moment where it seemed to her that the world had finally imploded. She heard a deafening report, and the grip loosened on her neck. There was a roaring in her ears, stars and whirring, flashing lights in front of her eyes as blood began to flow. Or was it the onset of being chilled?

“Krysty!”

It was Ryan’s voice. Her vision started to clear and she could see that he was accompanied by the others. She tried to speak, but her throat was damaged and nothing understandable emerged.

She gestured upward as Sid started to speak.

“There is no time to explain. Krysty will, I am sure, when she can. With Howard dead, and our programs on self-destruct, it is imperative that you leave the base and evacuate the immediate area. Most of the destruct blast will be contained, but there will be some surface damage.”

“What about you?” Ryan said. “Where are you? We can’t just—”

“Krysty will explain that, also,” Sid cut in. “We cannot leave, physically, and it is necessary that we die. Gather your people and go. Goodbye, Krysty. Bless you.”

Krysty was unsteady, but aided by Doc and Mildred she allowed herself to be led from the console room. The path to the surface was lit for them. She wanted to say something to Sid, to Hammill, something that would be a satisfactory farewell. But try as she might, her voice was nothing more than a croak.

“Where’s Bryanna and Robear?” Rounda asked.

J.B. looked behind them. “Dark night, don’t tell me she’s gone plundering!”

“Why the hell would she do that?” Mildred asked.

“Millie, if I was her, the chance to loot down here would be the only reason I would have agreed to help us,” the Armorer replied.

“Screw her,” Rounda said. “She’s that dumb, she deserves to buy the farm. It’d only stop her chilling others with what she found.”

“We can’t just leave her—” Mildred began, but was cut short by Jak.

“People make choice, take shit happens.”

“He’s right,” Ryan said as they reached the entrance to the now-doomed Murania.

He yelled into the comm device, “Corwen, we need you. Can you take us all out of here?”

The green-haired man’s voice was calmer than Ryan could have expected. “We’ll have no height, and little speed, but—”

“But it’ll be quicker than on foot?”

“Assuredly.”

“Get down here, triple fast. The whole place is going up and we don’t want to be here.”

The wait seemed interminable as they watched the parasails descend. Nothing was seemingly happening, the surface as quiet as the grave that below ground was soon to become. The two parasails touched ground, and Corwen organized the group so that their collective weights were split as evenly as possible between the two craft. The process was carried out with a minimum of speech and a maximum of efficiency. As the parasails struggled to gain height, and moved as though the air were the same consistency as the sand beneath, Ryan wondered if they would get clear in time.

“T
HIS IS WHAT WE’VE BEEN
looking for,” Bryanna said to Robear as they reached the armory. She looked at the displays on the monitors. It was something that she could only have dreamed of.

“Controlled detonations in sectors one to five taking place. Computer systems ninety-five percent closed down. Air filter and regeneration systems closing. All doors closed. Power systems close in ten, fifteen to final detonation.”

The monitors flickered and died, followed by the lights.

“We’ve got to go,” Robear whimpered, tugging at Bryanna. “We won’t get out unless—”

“No, not this close,” she whispered as the door behind them closed softly, and finally.

The distant crump of explosions signaled the beginning of the end of Murania.

A
S THE PARASAILS GROANED
over the area of the old ranch, the ground beneath shimmered and rippled as the blast waves spread. A low rumbling issued from under the ground. The area where the towers still stood acted as a pressure valve, steam and smoke issuing upward in columns that the parasails had to negotiate.

Areas of the ground began to cave in as the hollows beneath were ripped by blasts. As they reached the nuke power sources, more rad-blasted air met the outside world, but not close enough to affect the parasails as they reached the perimeter of the now-defunct defenses.

“Bryanna must’ve wanted that tech so bad. Nothing’s worth that much for chilling,” Rounda said with a softness that none had heard from her before.

“There are some things about the past—most, indeed—that are worth burying. Believe me,” Doc replied.

Krysty would have agreed if she had yet been capable of speech. But all she could think of were two souls who had finally found some rest.