Part 25 (1/2)
”Not used to the old-fas.h.i.+oned doors with hinges.” He chuckled, annoyed and amused at the same time. ”Spending too much time in redoubts, where you press a few b.u.t.tons, and the sec doors slide away.” Ryan's good cheer was interrupted by a sudden cacophony of a clanging alarm bell.
”s.h.i.+t!” he cursed. ”Where'd that come from?”
”No idea,” Krysty said. ”You must've missed some sec turnoff switch.”
”You're the one who told me to push,” Ryan retorted.
”Well, other than being annoying as all h.e.l.l, I don't think it's going to bring sec men running this way,” J.B. drawled. ”They've got more important things to deal with now than a child's jailbreak.”
Ryan turned to the Armorer. ”I agree.”
Doc spoke up. ”Still, I shall remain back here, in case we do have visitors.”
”Good idea, Doc,” Ryan said, speaking loudly to be heard. ”Hate to see all of us trapped or locked up alongside Dean. That'll be some poor b.a.s.t.a.r.d rescue. Krysty, you want to hang with Doc, too?”
The redhead nodded. ”All right. Be careful.”
”Always.”
”I'll close the door. It might cut down on the racket back here,” Mildred said. ”That alarm bell is somewhere out front.”
Ryan led the way inside, his own blaster drawn and ready. To his left was a blank wall with a wooden desk and metal rolling chair. On the desk were papers, a book of mug shots and an ashtray filled with the remains of a score of hand-rolled cigarettes. To his right was the cell block proper. Six cells, three per side, separated by a narrow walkway painted a chocolate brown. All of the cells appeared empty.
As promised, Mildred pushed the door shut and the clanging sound became much softer and bearable. The alarm was apparently meant to alert those outside of the cell block in case of a break.
”Dean?” Ryan yelled over the now m.u.f.fled clanging. ”You in here?”
”Dad!” Dean yelled back, rolling out from beneath the bunk of the last cell.
As Ryan jogged down to the last cell in the long block, J.B. examined the other, empty cells, eyeballing their spa.r.s.e furnis.h.i.+ngs in case another inmate had taken Dean's lead and decided to hide in plain sight.
”You're supposed to sleep on those beds, Dean, not under them,” Ryan said as he looked down fondly upon his son.
”I know. Things been going triple strange. Once that alarm kicked off, I figured I'd hide until I knew the score.”
”Funny,” J.B. mused. ”All the other cells are unoccupied.”
”Another batch of jails on lower level,” Jak said.
”Heard talk when I locked up earlier. Almost separated me and Dean. Didn't.”
”Morgan promised me Dean wouldn't be hurt. I made it clear I didn't want my son having to deal with h.o.r.n.y pervs wanting to get at his a.s.s. Guess Morgan listened. Kept this group of cells clear,” Ryan said as he stared down at the locked cell door. The cell was primitive, the metal bars obviously brought in from an old police station and welded into place. The back wall was solid concrete stone, and so was the windowless left, the front and right sections being made of the bars, which were painted black.
”Been n.o.body here but me for days,” Dean confirmed. ”Boring as h.e.l.l. Three meals and no conversation. What's going on? Where are the guards?”
”They've got bigger problems on their hands besides keeping watch over a kid. Freedom's under attack by some angry stickies. Guess they wanted to partic.i.p.ate in a blue-light special with the rest of us,” Ryan said with a wicked smile.
”Never did find out what those specials were supposed to be about,” J.B. groused.
”Probably for the best. Want to see if you and Jak can find some keys around this dump?”
”On it.” The two men went back and began looking through the drawers of the desk at the back of the cell block.
”You okay, Mildred? You look kind of sick,” Dean said, peering at the black woman through the bars of the cell.
”Stickies are enough to make all of us feel queasy,” Ryan said.
”Stickies don't scare me, it's the people,” Mildred replied, running a free hand down her jacketed arm. She suddenly felt cold. ”I know you've already been face-to-face with those chilly-crazy b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, Ryan, but all I've seen running rampant so far is a horde of rioters and looters. It's almost like they were waiting for an opportunity like this to tear the mall down from the rafters.”
”Yeah, well, you know how it is, Mildred. The more people you cram together, the more trouble you invite.”
”We keep crawling back up, and knocking ourselves down again and again.”
”No keys in desk,” Jak reported.
”Not surprised. Guard usually has them on a ring on his belt,” Dean said.
”Why not tell us?” Jak demanded, slinging out a pale hand and slapping the cell bars next to Dean's face.
”I was hoping for a spare set, stupe,” Dean said. ”Got to be a second set of keys somewhere in case the first set gets lost.”
”Well, guess we'll have to blast,” Ryan said. ”We sure as s.h.i.+t don't have time to wait for the sec man on duty to come back with the keys.”
While the rest of the group had been talking, J.B. had also returned from the desk search. He bent down for a closer look at the sec lock on the cell door.
”Oh-oh,” J.B. said.
”What's 'oh-oh'? That's a phrase I'm not used to hearing out of you, J.B.,” Ryan demanded.
”We got a problem. This isn't your ordinary cell-door lock. Been modified.” The Armorer pointed a finger up to a box in the corner of Dean's cell that appeared to be some kind of ob unit. ”There's a charge in the lock mechanism,” he explained. ”Don't use the key and you break a circuit. My guess is, there's enough high ex in that box back there to envelop the entire cell and whoever is dumb enough to be standing in front of it.”
”Meaning what?” Mildred asked.
”Like I said. Oh-oh.”
”Can't you bypa.s.s the lock?” Ryan asked.
”Mebbe,” J.B. replied, taking off his fedora and running his fingers through his closely cropped hair. ”I know how to, anyway”
”Good!”
”Just never done it before on a deal like this.”
”J.B., there's a first time for everything.” The radio at Ryan's waist crackled, and then an annoying squawk came out.
”Your radio's on?” J.B. asked. ”Had to turn our sets off. Sec men screaming, yelling. Couldn't understand a d.a.m.n thing.”
”Mine's on another channel. So's Krysty's. Did that to escape the other racket. Jak didn't have a unit,” Ryan replied as he took the compact box off his belt.
”Not want one,” the albino noted.