Part 27 (1/2)
”How are we going to see?” Krysty asked as she bent and tried to see down the odorous crawlway.
”There's some lighting courtesy of the generator,” Morgan replied, gesturing to the small engine that was chugging in place near the entrance down into the tunnel. ”However, I would advise against lighting any matches or firing your weapons down there. It might ignite stray gases and toast all of your a.s.ses.”
The man turned away from the generator and opened one of the wall lockers. He took out the sub-gun and long blaster that had been stored away days before when Ryan and his group first entered Freedom Mall. He quickly handed over the Uzi and the Steyr.
”Thought you might need these. I'd planned on getting them to you earlier, when you first joined the Freedom sec squad, but circ.u.mstances prevented their delivery.”
”Thanks,” Ryan said as he and his friends eagerly took back their weapons.
Morgan unlimbered a large 9 mm Weaver PKS-9 Ultralite submachine gun and a double handful of clips from the locker for himself. ”You taking us down?”
”No. I've got my own problems to deal with here before departing.”
”All right. Jak, you're in first.” The albino stepped down, followed one by one by the rest of the group. Finally only J.B. and Ryan were left. Morgan was waiting for them to vanish before closing the hatch back up.
”Welcome to come with us,” Ryan said. J.B. gave him a warning glance, his sallow face darkening with a deep scowl.
Ryan returned an icy cold stare. ”Dammit, J.B. The offer's sincere.”
”Turning this into a d.a.m.n parade,” Dix muttered. ”Only need drums and balloons.”
Morgan laughed. ”Blunt as stone, but your Armorer is right. Thanks for the invite, Cawdor, but no. There's already seven of you, and that's about six too many in my learned opinion. I work better alone. I find a single moving target to draw less attention than an entire flock.”
”Your choice.” Ryan stuck out his hand. Morgan extended his own and met Ryan's palm for a quick, firm handshake.
”I've still got a few items I want to salvageand a few scores to settlebefore I make my own great escape from this cavernous h.e.l.lpit,” Morgan said, his voice dropping down a bit in fond memory of Freedom. ”Pity about that, really. I rather liked being in mall management.”
”Yeah, well, it's harder than d.i.c.k to find a career with any sort of longevity these days,” Ryan agreed. ”You ought to look into farming.”
Morgan cackled. ”See you on the other side, Cawdor.”
Ryan waited until J.B. clambered down into the floor hatch before lowering himself into the narrow access.
RYAN STEPPED OFF the last rung of the rusty metal ladder into thigh-deep water and nearly stumbled when the soles of his heavy combat boots tried to find a secure purchase on the slippery tunnel floor.
”Fireblast,” he snarled, grabbing the ladder with one hand as securely as possible while halting his fall. He had no desire to fall into the foul-smelling sewer water. He closed his eye for a few seconds, willing himself to get used to the faint lighting. Bare bulbs glowed from sockets set into the ceiling at ten-foot intervals, but only every third light was still working, and if the generator above happened to lock up or run out of fuel, even those feeble signposts would be extinguished.
”Good show,” Doc said to Ryan after the big man had arrested his fall and stepped off the ladder into the water. ”I can only wish for my long lost days of yore when I, too, possessed such agility.”
Even in the gloom, Ryan could still notice that Doc's white hair was dripping, and the greenish black of his frock coat had taken on a much darker hue. Doc's trousers were also soaking wet, accenting his bony frame.
”Doc took tumble,” Jak volunteered. ”Went splash.”
”This accursed floor is as slick as s.h.i.+t through a goose,” Doc groused. ”It is a wonder all of us haven't gone down in a tangle.”
The albino snorted, his red eyes glowing merrily in the semidarkness. ”No one else fell. 'Cept for you,” he said.
”Carry on Krysty,” Ryan said. ”Head count.”
”Seven. Everyone's here and accounted for,” Krysty said. ”What next?”
”I'm fresh out of elaborate or idealistic ideas. I say we get the h.e.l.l out of here and forget we ever heard about Freedom Mall,” Ryan replied.
”At least we don't have to worry about choosing a wrong direction,” Mildred said. ”For the time being, this tunnel appears to run only two ways, forward and back.”
”Then let's make a run for the future,” Ryan answered. ”Walk fast, but don't run. Floor's too dangerous, and we don't know what we might encounter while we're moving. Follow me close, we won't have much time.”
Ryan set the pace, which alternated between a quick jog and a brisk walk. He kept Jak close behind him in hopes the younger man's superior night vision might help to avoid any pitfalls.
”Getting hot,” Dean said. ”Starting to sweat.”
”Boy's right.” J.B. called out from the rear of the convoy.
The albino tensed. ”Don't call me boy.”
”Not youthe other kid.”
”Blast you, J.B.” Dean snarled under his breath.
”Save your breath for running,” Ryan barked. ”We're going to need all our energy to make it out of here in one piece.”
”Feels like rain,” Krysty said, feeling her hair tightening on her head.
On those words, a lengthy overhead pipe that stretched endlessly forward and back began to release a fine misting of water at any and all stress points. Rancid-smelling water fell down on them like a curtain, adding to the decreased visibility in the tunnel.
”This s.h.i.+t will soak us all to the skin soon enough,” Ryan said.
”Least water not cold,” Jak answered.
The pipe continued its downpour as the group raced down the narrow and winding pa.s.sage. The trip was taking on a definite air of unreality. Instead of minutes, it felt as though they had been slogging through the darkness for hours, day upon night in the confines of the tunnel, and all of it had been dank, dark and wet.
”Is it my imagination, or is this water getting higher?” J.B. asked.
”To waist level now,” Jak said. ”Not a problem. Got to be near the exit soon,” Ryan argued.
”What that?” Jak said, coming to a complete stop and reaching out a hand to slow Ryan.
A hissing noise could be heard. Ryan had missed it. The labored rasp of his own breathing mixing with the sound of the leaking pipes overhead had masked the soft sibilant sound. Now that the group had stopped moving, they could feel the warm moisture hovering in the dank air, mixing with the tepid downpour from above.
”Keep moving. Slow until we get around the corner,” Ryan ordered.
As the new corner was turned, the group discovered the source of the sound.
Down the pa.s.sage, a broken steam pipe had fallen inward, blowing what seemed to be an endless wet heat out in a billowing cloudy ma.s.s.
”This could be a problem,” J.B. stated, his gla.s.ses already fogged over with condensation.
”Yeah, I know. Can't shoot a cloud of steam.”
”We could wait,” Mildred offered. ”No supply of hot water is endless. Let it run until the supply is exhausted, then go past.”