Chapter Twenty-Six

 

Morgan had taken the group back into the catacombs that lined the far interiors of Freedom Mall, bringing them past unfinished walls and ancient pipes kept behind heavy wire fencing. The padlock holding a chain around the front of a solid sec door was unlocked with a key on a ring hanging from the former mall leader's waist. He led the way down a flight of flimsy metal stairs, which vibrated from all of their combined weight.

 

At the bottom was a bank of equipment lockers with a padlock and chain identical to the one that had kept the door to the small chamber closed, a folding card table weighed down with a toolbox and some scattered papers and files, a relatively clean portable gasoline generator and a half-bubble-shaped hatch sticking up like a boil in the center of the floor.

 

"Open the floor hatch," Morgan said as he pulled on the cord and caused the gen to chug into a steady heartbeat of sounds. "Probably take two of you. Damn thing sticks."

 

Ryan and Jak turned the floor-level locking wheel, straining until it broke free with a wrenching of metal and allowed them to lift up the half-egg-shaped hatch. The second the seal between floor and hatch had been pried loose with a soft sucking sound, Jak went skittering back with a crazed look on his pale face.

 

"Gaia!" Krysty gasped, her green eyes popping open in shock.

 

"By the Three Kennedys!" Doc wheezed as he turned and staggered away from his earlier position of wanting to see what the opening of the hatch might unveil.

 

Mildred, who had autopsied the dead and cut into the living, involuntarily gagged.

 

Dean's chest heaved as he struggled not to vomit. The boy was afraid to even try to speak until he regained control of his senses.

 

Only J.B. appeared not to have been struck totally by surprise over the odor that had been unleashed, and that was because of his long-practiced poker face. Behind the lenses of his glasses however, even his pale eyes were involuntarily watering.

 

"Fireblast, Morgan, what the hell is that smell?" Ryan asked, his own eye tearing as the ghastly odor wafted up.

 

"Human waste, I imagine," the former leader of Freedom Mall said succinctly as he searched his ring for yet another key to unlock the equipment lockers. "Stinks, doesn't it?"

 

"'Stink' is entirely too polite a word," Doc quipped.

 

"You mean the way out of here is through the bastard sewer?" Ryan demanded.

 

Morgan shrugged. "What better place to have a secret tunnel?"

 

"Only secret is how something can stink so bad."

 

Dean said, his voice pitched deeper since he was using a hand to pinch his nostrils closed.

 

"Waste has to go somewhere. We modified the original plumbing as best we could, but despite its immense size, Freedom was never designed for twenty-four-hour inhabitation," Morgan explained as he inserted yet another key in hopes it would be the right one for the lockers' padlock. "Bringing in fresh water and disposing of waste was starting to be a logistical nightmare for which I had no real solution. Guess I can thank the stickies for ridding me of the problem of having to deal with yet another crisis."

 

"Smells like shit," Jak said bluntly.

 

"That's because it is shit," Morgan said in reply as he finally found the right key, and the chain around the bank of lockers fell with a clank to the hard ground. "And piss. And gallons upon gallons of shower water, sink water, tub water, any liquid that goes down a drain. Been a while since I made the trip. All I can say is hold your nose and walk fast. You'll get used to it."

 

"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 asses."

 

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 circumstances 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 damn 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 hellpit," 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 dick 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 shit 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 hell 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 shit 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 passage. 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 passage, a broken steam pipe had fallen inward, blowing what seemed to be an endless wet heat out in a billowing cloudy mass.

 

"This could be a problem," J.B. stated, his glasses 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."

 

"No time. I don't want to get caught down here with nowhere to run or hide."

 

"Jesus!" Mildred suddenly screamed. "I felt something brush against my leg!"

 

"Everybody, freeze," Ryan said.

 

"I feel it, Ryan," Mildred said. "Or felt itwhatever it is. The damn thing rubbed up against my leg."

 

J.B. pulled his Tekna blade. "Think we got a snake. Big one."

 

Ryan swiftly drew his own panga. "I hate snakes."

 

"So much for leaving Freedom unmolested," Doc said. "Perhaps this snake is nonpoisonous."

 

"What, you're a herpetologist now, too?" Mildred said in a voice colored with anxiety as she struggled to keep still.

 

"No, Dr. Wyeth, but I do know that most water snakes are harmless," Doc replied patiently. "While I am not fond of the slithering set myself, the odds are on our side the one you have discovered is merely as lost as we are."

 

"You want to take a chance on that, Doc?" Ryan asked.

 

Tanner shook his head. "Of course not. I am merely pointing out some facts."

 

"Let this thing slither by one of your skinny ankles, and we'll see who calls what harmless," Mildred suggested, her dark eyes scanning the water.

 

"Primitive man worshiped the serpent as a creature of great supernatural power, you know. The serpent was sacred to Asclepius, the Greek god of healing. The caduceus, a mighty staff with two entwined snakes, was carried by Hermes of Greek mythology, and is our universal symbol of modern medicine. As a physician yourself, I fail to"

 

"Screw the mythology lesson. I got enough of that back with Admiral Poseidon," Ryan retorted. Other than Doc's rather one-sided discussion and the pulling of their various hand-to-hand bladed weapons, none of the group had moved since Mildred's warning.

 

"Yes, yes, of course. But remember the telling passage from the Book of Genesis, 'And the Lord God said unto the serpent' "

 

 

"Stifle it, Doc!" Mildred warned.

 

"Think see it," Jak said, his usual calm demeanor tossed away as he bent and peered down at the surface of the murky water.

 

"What's a snake doing down here?" Dean asked.

 

"For the rats, I imagine," Ryan answered. "Could feast a long time on the amount of rats slinking around under here."

 

Jak continued to stare at the water.

 

"Didn't pull your blade, Jak," Ryan said flatly, noting the albino's hands were empty.

 

"Don't need it," the teen replied.

 

Then, faster than anyone's eye could follow, Jak's hand disappeared under the murk up to his elbow and came back up with a quivering snake held tightly in one hand. Jak had timed his strike well, catching the reptile firmly at the back of the head so that he wouldn't have to fear being struck by the creature's poisonous fangs.

 

Jak squeezed, and the snake's mouth opened wide, revealing a white lining and throat. Needle-sharp fangs glistened.

 

"That's a hell of a water moccasin," Ryan said.

 

The long body of the snake was brown, with wide black cross bands that enclosed lighter tan centers. The belly was yellow and heavily marbled with dark gray. Over and through the reptile's glistening, lidless eyes were dark black stripes that matched the jet-black top of the coiling tail.

 

"I thought those bastards weren't supposed to get any longer than six feet," Mildred said breathlessly, her adrenaline surge now dissipating in relief. "That thing's at least ten or more."

 

"They're not," Ryan retorted. "But you're looking at snakes from your time, Mildred. Not ours. A hundred years seems to have stretched him some. And I've faced larger."

 

"Seen bigger home in bayou," Jak noted as the snake twisted, trying to worm out of his grip. "Hide in swamps. Eat rats, birds, fish, kids. Mean."

 

"Could've been worse," J.B. said. "Could've been two of them."

 

"Dear God," Doc whispered, his face whiter than usual. "I think there are two of them. I distinctly felt something foul slithering by my leg."

 

"Probably just a turd. Come on, we've got to hurry up and get the hell out of his cesspool, free steam bath or not."

 

"Go ahead, Jak. Chill the bastard," Dean urged, watching the serpent continue to coil in the albino's grip.

 

"No," Jak said, then moved back down the tunnel. Once he was a good distance away, he boldly tossed the snake down the passageway as far as he could.

 

"What did you do that for?" Dean demanded when the older boy returned.

 

"Snake's all confused. We'll be gone long time before he gets back over here."

 

"Let's forget about the damn thing," Ryan stated. "My worry now is seeing how hot it's going to get."

 

The one-eyed man hunkered down his upper body and braved the billowing steam first. Once on the other side, he was greatly relieved to discover the wet heat had washed over him without causing much discomfort. All of his friends, as well as himself, had endured about as much as any human being could stand in the past four hours.

 

"Come on through. Go quick. It's not hot enough to burn," he yelled.

 

One by one, all went through safely.

 

"Can't be much farther. Seems like we've gone the length of the mall already."

 

The water had risen to Ryan's stomach by now. Shorter members of the group like Jak and Mildred were having to keep their mouths closed in fear of the foul water splashing up. Only good thing about that was it helped close off the chatter.

 

Then, as Morgan had said, the tunnel did come to an end, with another flat wall and another rusted yellow ladder going up to the surface. There was no interior wheel to turn this time, merely a heavy lid. Ryan went up the ladder and pushed.

 

"Stuck."

 

After a supreme effort that once again made his healing shoulder give off the sensation of being tortured with hot irons, Ryan was able to summon up the strength to shove the manhole cover up and away, where it fell freely over with a clatter to the well-worn pavement above. After Ryan poked his head up to visually recce the area, he gave the all-clear signal and the rest of the group crawled up and out onto the blacktop of one of Freedom's many unused parking lots, this one at the far west end, away from the main entrance and from the secondary front of the stickie attack.

 

Some fleeing figures could be seen, running along the wall. The pandemonium that had marked the interior of the colossal building still appeared to be going strong, but the tunnel had led Ryan and the others far away from any of the fighting. The group headed back for the tangle of undergrowth that had sprouted up beyond the wide expanse that had been kept cleared for security reasons, and took a wide circle to the start of Hawthorne Road.

 

Ryan looked back at the burning patches of red and orange in the darkness. "Seem to be making a habit of this," he said.

 

"What are you talking about, lover?" Krysty asked. The night breeze that had guided the crude gliding devices operated by the stickies onto the roof of the mall was still blowing softly, and felt cool on their wet skin.

 

"I'm talking about leaving nothing behind us but a damn ruin."

 

"Not our doing, not this time," Mildred stated. "We were caught in the middle."

 

"I still can't help but think my being there made crazy mutie-loving Lester decide to attack sooner than he might've. Morgan said they were waiting for more blasters, supplies and men. Might have been able to put up a better fight."

 

"Ancient history now. I'd say our own kind brought Freedom down a hell of a lot faster than a gang of stickies," Mildred replied. "What's our next move?" J.B. asked. "Don't know. We're close to the underbelly of Virginia. Guess we could stay on foot, try walking for a while and see how far we go. I've been thinking about paying a visit to Nate anyway, see how things are going back home, such as it is."

 

Everyone knew Ryan's ambivalent feelings on the stretch of land where he'd grown up. The last time there, he'd left the young Nathan Freeman in charge as the new Lord Cawdor, leader of the clan that shared Ryan's name.

 

"Still wondering about what Poseidon told you back in Georgia? Trouble brewing up in the Shens?" Krysty asked.

 

"Some, yeah," Ryan admitted. "Or mebbe I'm just afraid of what I might find."

 

"Long trip to West Virginia," Doc said, already feeling his long legs start to ache in anticipation.

 

"Not if we stick to the highways," Mildred replied.

 

"I haven't made up my mind yet," Ryan said simply. "Be a lot easier to go back to the hospital and take another jump, see where the mat-trans winds take us. Not up to me, though. What do the rest of you want to do?"

 

There was no response for a moment, and then J.B. spoke for the rest of them.

 

"Whatever you decide, Ryan, I guess we'll fall in."