Remember Tomorrow

All this went through Krysty’s head and the anticipation of potential danger made her hair start to move gently, the flowing curls tightening almost imperceptibly.

Almost, but not quite. Ryan caught sight of her. “Everything okay?”

She smiled ruefully. “Yeah, everything’s fine, lover. It’s me getting nervous, not any immediate danger.”

Ryan didn’t answer; it wasn’t like Krysty to get nervous, but if she was sure there was no intimation of danger—No, he wouldn’t take chances.

“Okay, J.B. When you hit the lever, I want everyone back in a defensive position. Can’t be too safe, right?”

The others followed his command without question. Too many times they had walked straight into danger. They knew the wisdom of the one-eyed man’s words. The tunnel was supported by a series of buttresses that formed a semicircular arch from floor to floor, arcing over the ceiling. Some of these housed sec doors, others stood alone. The companions drew back so that they took cover by these arches, blasters ready if there was a need to fire. J.B. stood alone by the final sec-door panel. Ryan stayed nearest and gave the bespectacled Armorer the nod when J.B. cast him a questioning glance.

J.B. blew on his fingers, tapped in the code, pressed the lever and brought his Uzi up to waist height.

The outside atmosphere had obviously had some effect on the outer door, as it rose far more slowly than the interior doors. There was a grinding in the mechanism and the shriek of metal scraping against protesting concrete as it began to move. The earth movements had caused the frame to warp a little. The redoubt had been looted. At some point, someone had to have got in through the outer door. The question was, had the earth shifted any more since then?

The light of midmorning was intensely bright as it began to show itself under the shuddering, slowly moving sec door. Compared to the bland fluorescent light that lit the redoubt corridor, it was incandescent. More than one of the companions cursed as the brightness made them squint, unable to see any dangers that lay beyond.

By the time that the sec door had fully opened, they had adjusted to the light and could see that the entrance to the redoubt lay in the side of a shallow valley, with a dirt track running up around the edge and over into the land beyond. The earth in front of them was dry, sandy soil, littered with small rocks and pebbles. Whatever else, they could see that it wasn’t rainy season and it looked like it had been a long time since it had been.

The area looked deserted. Ryan signaled them to wait, listening intently for any movement beyond, stretching the tension to a point where he hoped that any waiting enemy would lose their nerve and force an attack, showing their hand.

There was nothing. Ryan looked back at Jak and at Krysty. The red-haired woman shook her head, her hair now flowing free. If there was any danger out there, she would sense it. Jak also shook his head, his white, stringy hair framing his impassive face, red eyes glittering in the new light. Although he had no mutie capabilities, he was a natural hunter whose abilities had been honed to an almost preternatural degree. If someone was out there waiting, he could sniff them out.

Ryan gestured for his people to move out, still keeping their defensive formation. The one-eyed warrior himself was in the lead, with Jak, Krysty and Mildred fanning out to scan the area surrounding the narrow valley. Doc came out before J.B., who kept to the rear and guarded their backs.

They would have felt faintly absurd, if not for the fact that they had seen people buy the farm for less caution over the years. Absurd because the area was deserted, with no signs of life beyond a few lizards and scrub plants that struggled to survive in the harsh environment.

Ryan gestured to J.B. that it was clear and the Armorer tapped in the sec code, the door grinding ponderously shut behind them. He followed the others until they were gathered on the highest ridge of the valley. It was only about eight feet above the valley floor, but it still afforded them a decent vantage of the land surrounding.

“Dark night, it’s bleak,” J.B. said with admirable understatement as he joined them, casting his eyes over the terrain. The valley walls had to have been higher at some time, but the nuclear winter and the harsh climate changes over the past century had beaten them down to the dry husks of hillocks that they now were. The topsoil and any grasslands had long since blown away, only the hardiest of scrub remaining, shallowly rooted in the powdery dirt. The land had been flattened by the intemperate climate, leaving nothing but a flat, despairing landscape that tried and failed to support life.

“Sure as heck won’t be many folks trying to eke a living round here,” Mildred commented. “And not much shelter from the elements for us, either.”

“I figure that ville me and J.B. were talking about must be north-northwest from here, so if we head in that direction…” Ryan looked to J.B., but the Armorer was ahead of him. Taking the highest point of the land and using the sun and the mini-sextant he always carried with him, J.B. was sighting their position and plotting their direction. “It might be a couple of days hike from here,” Ryan stated, “so we need to keep a sharp eye for water and shelter.” He looked up—clear skies with nothing to shield the sun as it beat down. “I don’t like skies this clear when there’s land this dry. It gives me a bad feeling.”

“My dear Ryan, it would give me the perfect opportunity to top up my tan. I feel all this living underground is giving me somewhat of an unhealthy pallor,” Doc remarked with a crooked grin, the irony of his words emphasized by him removing his hat to mop his already sweating brow.

Direction defined, they set off on the long march. Strung out in a line with J.B. now on point, they kept their heads down, avoiding the glare of the sun as it grew brighter in the sky, and remained silent. What was there to say? They were hiking through a desolate landscape with nothing to remark upon and wasted words would just use energy, making them thirsty when they needed to conserve water.

Apart from scrub and the occasional lizard, there was little sign of life. In the distance they occasionally glimpsed a solitary bird of prey or the intimation that there were flocks of smaller birds—a misty cloud moving in the blue that could be a wisp of cumulus or a flock on the wing. Nothing closer. Any mammals that scratched some kind of a living from the land were safely burrowed away, the occasional hole in the ground being all that betrayed their presence.

The companions trudged on, measuring the tedium of time only by the achingly slow movement of the sun across the sky. At least it wasn’t quite as hot as they feared. They had been through worse. In fact, there were even a few breezes that gently crossed the empty land, relieving the beat of the heat.

Breezes that slowly, almost unnoticeably, grew stronger.

It was Mildred who first noticed it. Quite by chance, she looked to her left to relieve the boredom of looking at the ground in front of her.

“Oh shit…Ryan,” she said softly.

Lost in some reverie of his own, Ryan snapped back to attention when he heard her voice. He looked back at her and followed the direction in which she was pointing. All the companions followed the direction of her finger.

“By the Three Kennedys,” Doc breathed. “It was Montana, 1878, when I was last privy to such a sight.”

“Yeah? And this might be the last time you see it unless we can find some cover,” J.B. murmured.

What had caught their attention was awesome and beautiful, but almost certainly deadly. In the distance, gaining ground rapidly on them, a zephyr was whipping the earth into a turmoil. Clouds of dust and dirt were flying at strange trajectories as the currents of air flung them from their path. Now they understood why the breezes had become more insistent. The outlying currents had stirred the air for some miles around, and were increasing with every second. In fact, at the speed the zephyr was moving, it would reach them very shortly.

The storm surrounding the air currents was violent, ripping up great chunks of earth, hurling rock and stone about at vicious speeds.

“Cover,” Ryan yelled, already aware that the noise of the approaching storm was growing, drowning him. He cast about for some kind of shelter, something that would cover them until the zephyr passed over. That wouldn’t take long, the speed at which it was moving, but long enough to injure or chill them.

“There,” Jak yelled, indicating a cave that seemed to disappear down into the ground. It wasn’t set into a hill of any kind, but seemed to be the only indication that there had once been raised land. It was more like a pothole. But it was shelter.

“Okay, let’s go,” Ryan yelled, running toward it, tracking back to one side to help Doc, who was slower than the others. Mildred, Krysty and Jak gained the entrance, with J.B.—who had been farthest back—catching up to Ryan and Doc, grabbing the old man’s arm and helping Ryan to speed him along. Dirt and stones rained on their backs; wind plucked at their clothes.

The zephyr was almost on them as they dived for the entrance to the cave.

Chapter Two

The sudden darkness was engulfing and all Ryan, J.B. and Doc could feel was the scouring dirt whipping against their backs, rocks and stones thudding into them and the dry, powdered earth forming a choking mist that swirled around them, clogging their mouths, noses and lungs.

Lights exploded all around behind closed eyes, coughing spasms racked their bodies and the hard rock of the cave floor, covered with the thinnest layer of dirt, was hard against their bodies as they landed flat and awkward, unable to see where they were going.

“Grab them, get them back in,” Krysty yelled, taking Ryan by one arm and hauling him farther back into the darkness of the caves. J.B. felt two hands on his body, searching for a hold. As he felt himself dragged in one direction he dug his boot heels into the cave floor, pushing with his calves to aid his rescuer by propelling himself as hard as he could. It was more than Mildred expected and she nearly stumbled and fell, the sudden momentum taking her by surprise.

“Don’t, John, it’ll be okay,” she whispered.

He marveled that he could hear her above the noise of the storm, then realized that it had lessened. Was that because they had moved into the caves or because the speed of the zephyr was taking it past them already? He had always thought that zephyrs were supposed to be complex but quite harmless combinations of air currents. Someone should tell that to the motherfucker outside. He knew his thoughts were rambling; he had to have hit his head when he fell. It would be good to stop pushing and just relax. He felt himself go loose.

Jak took hold of Doc. The old man had fallen well and wasn’t too hurt. He was coughing and retching, strings of bile and dirt splattering the floor around him, but he was conscious and aware of Jak’s hands upon him.

“Heavens, sir, I can manage myself. I’m not that decrepit that I—” He failed to finish as another spasm racked him, the effort of speaking dragging more dirt from his chest. He wretched once more.

“Talk later, walk now,” Jak murmured, taking Doc beneath the arms and lifting him into a semi-upright position. “You walk okay? Just nod,” he added, not wanting Doc to succumb to more spasms. When Doc assented, Jak spoke just once more. “Keep head low—not high in here.” Jak’s red eyes were better suited to the darkness than anyone else’s in the group, but even he was having trouble adjusting to the almost total darkness.

Stumbling, crashing into the jagged rock walls and trying to avoid cracking their skulls on the low roof of the cave, the companions made their way back. As the air cleared of dust and Ryan and J.B. were able to breathe more easily, their senses began to return. They hawked and spit the dirt from their lungs; the strength began to flow back into their limbs. Doc, despite the rigors of puking so frequently, found himself able to breathe a little better and, after what had seemed an age but had only been a couple of minutes, the dust storm caused by the zephyr was far behind them.

“Fireblast, it’s darker than a coldheart’s soul in here,” Ryan uttered. “I can’t see where the hell we’re headed.”

“None of us can,” Krysty added. “Not even Jak, I’d reckon.”

“Too dark,” the albino replied. “Better stop. Bad feeling about this.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Ryan stated. “Find out where the hell we are before we lose the way back. Besides which, I don’t like this smell.”

“It is like a charnel house, but not one which has been well maintained,” Doc interjected, his voice high and strained, cracking from the dust that had caught in his lungs despite his body’s attempts to expel it. His frail physique was showing the strain. Doc’s body, stressed in unimaginable ways by the hardships of his previous life, was sometimes apt to react in ways that baffled the others. He had been less buffeted by the storm than Ryan and J.B., but was taking longer to recover.

But there was nothing wrong with his sense of smell. The dark caves, riddled with a dank, damp aura now that they had obviously been traveling downward, were filled with the sickly sweet odors of flesh in varying stages of decay. Come to that, their heavy combat boots had already crunched underfoot what may have been wood, but which may also have been old bone. They had sheltered in caves on numerous occasions, and had come to discover that caves could be the homes of some triple-dangerous creatures.

About their persons, among the supplies that were spread evenly between them, they carried flashlights that had been scavenged from redoubts. These were battery operated, the batteries being the harder part to obtain. As each of them found their flash, they hoped that theirs would still be working. Almost simultaneously, they switched them on.

Two were still giving a strong beam. Ryan’s was weak, but illuminated a small area in front of him. He moved it around and could see that Mildred and Krysty had the working flashes. J.B.’s, Jak’s and Doc’s were all dead.

“Better than nothing.” He shrugged, turning his weakened beam onto the floor of the cave. “Shit, look at that.”

The stronger beams cast their light over the area of the cave floor surrounding the companions. Scraps of fur and skin were littered between jagged edges of bone that covered the floor, almost like a carpet. The earth was stained dark. Some of the bones still had rotting meat attached to them, but others were old and dry. The smell didn’t come from anything that remained, but rather was the result of no circulating air. The odor of decay and death had stayed in the enclosed space until it had become embedded in the walls.

Jak hunkered down, running his hands over the forest of bones, lifting a few to examine. “Small animal, all of them,” he said, looking up at Ryan, his eyes glittering in the beam. “Whatever did this couldn’t find big prey. Mebbe not too much danger. But mebbe a lot of them,” he added with a shrug.

“Yeah, but what?” Mildred queried. “I thought it was only small stuff could live in this. What’s down here and where did it come from?”

“Madam, the second part of your query is irrelevant,” Doc husked, his voice still tight and painful. “Much more pertinent would be to ask what did this and is it still here?”

“Right, Doc,” Ryan agreed. He noted that the old man had loosened his LeMat percussion pistol in its resting place, ready to draw and fire when danger threatened. “Triple red, people, but triple careful with blasters,” he added pointedly. “It’s a confined space down here and we could end up chilling ourselves from ricochets.”

Doc allowed himself a small smile. “A point well made.” He eased the LeMat back into place and took his sword stick from its sheath. The blade, finely honed and made of Toledo steel, glittered in the beams of the flashlights.

“The thing is, if whatever it is knows we’re here, why isn’t it attacking us and defending its territory?” Mildred mused.

“Sizing us up,” Krysty answered with a shudder. Her hair had begun to coil protectively around her head and neck.

“Watching…waiting,” Jak added simply. In each hand, one of his razor-honed, leaf-bladed knives was poised and balanced, waiting for the first sign of attack.

Using the flashlights that still had strong beams, the companions surveyed the area around them as far as the light penetrated the blackness. The tunnel system formed by the caves honeycombed off in several directions. Straight ahead of them the system plunged on into the darkness, gradually descending into the depths of the earth. To their rear, in the direction from which they had traveled, it seemed to go up…but had they arrived in a straight line? In their hurry to get away from the storm and in the confusion of carrying those incapacitated by the storm’s sudden violence, none could say if they had arrived at this point from a straight line or if they had veered into this area from one of the tunnels leading off what appeared to be the central corridor. Whatever, it seemed that all the tunnels in the cave led into darkness with no outside light source to guide them. Yet they couldn’t be that deep or have come that far.

Another problem was the height of the cave. Nowhere had they been in a position where they could stand straight. At some point, Jak had been able to avoid stooping but even he was now inclined forward. And as he was just under five feet in height, it gave them some idea of how low the caves were. Bent forward, calf and thigh muscles aching under the strain, all were aware that they were in the worst position to defend themselves from attack. Whatever lived in these caves and had left these remains, they could be pretty sure it was on all fours.

“Why won’t it show itself?” Doc whispered.

“Mebbe there’s only one of it and it knows it’s outnumbered here. Mebbe it doesn’t want to fight in the place it keeps its kill. Mebbe a lot of things. The only thing I know for sure is this is too confined a space to fight and we should get the hell out without disturbing it, if possible.”

“Too late for that,” Jak said with a shake of his white mane, ghostly in the beam of the flash. “Can hear something move…” He paused, furrowing his brow as he tried to listen. The others didn’t dare breathe. Jak chewed on his scarred lip. “Too many cave, too many tunnels. Sound getting messed up.” He looked Ryan in the eye. “More than one, though.”

“We move now,” Ryan snapped. “Keep going straight back, keep close, go single file.”

“Ryan, we got a problem,” J.B. said softly. The Armorer had been quiet since they had stopped and only spoke now because he had to. “I’m still fucked by that crack on the skull. I don’t trust myself to cover your asses.”

Ryan’s jaw set. Without J.B. at the back, there was a chance that an attack from behind could take them out. His best option was to put Jak there, but he had wanted the albino at the front, using his keen senses to detect any danger that may be ahead.

“Jak, take the back for me. J.B., go in the middle in case you need help. I’ll take the front. Someone give me one of the strong flashlights.” Krysty didn’t hesitate to hand over hers.

Proceeding with caution, Ryan began to lead them back—hopefully—the way they had come. He scanned the floor of the cave for any sign of footprints, but the earth was too thin, too easily disturbed to keep much shape. Their progress was slowed, too, by the necessity of checking every branching tunnel leading off their path. The darkness could hide any number of secrets and he used the flash to either illuminate the enemy or scare it away.

The sounds that Jak had been able to pick up faintly were now growing. The honeycomb effect of the caves meant that it was impossible to detect direction in the overlapping acoustics that threw echoes around them. The only thing for sure was that the creatures were getting closer—for that amount of sound could only be put down to more than one creature.

“Triple red, people,” Ryan breathed, drawing his panga from its sheath on his thigh. He had that familiar churning of the gut, that instinct that told him the enemy was about to attack. The only problem was from where…?

Behind him, Doc had his sword blade ready, and J.B.—despite his unsteadiness—had unsheathed his Tekna knife. The only blasters were those held by Krysty and Mildred, who didn’t carry blades.

At the rear, Jak was ready with his knives, casting glances behind him. He had taken Mildred’s flashlight to illuminate the rear, leaving her with Ryan’s dimmed flash to aid them in the middle of the group. He was sure that the flash was catching something as they turned corners—the sudden gleam of a watching eye, but always just out of reach.

He killed the light and counted five, listening to the lowing cries of whatever tracked them. He could smell them now and smell their readiness for attack.

Suddenly, he hit the switch on the flash, and the tunnel behind them was illuminated. This time there was no mistaking what was at their rear.

“Ryan!” Jak yelled.

The one-eyed warrior whirled in the enclosed space and as he did so his flashlight caught more of the creatures coming at them from one of the side tunnels. The pack had been smart enough to split into two to attack. He hoped that they wouldn’t be any smarter than that in battle.

The only good thing about the attack happening at this moment was that they were between cave branches. There had been a tunnel ahead of Ryan, and a couple of tunnels some thirty yards to their rear, but at each side was solid rock. They had to deal with attackers coming from only two directions, but the downside was that they were now trapped in a pincer movement.

“What are they?” Mildred breathed. It was a rhetorical question and she knew that no one would have the time to answer. It was nothing more than an exclamation of surprise.

For the creatures that attacked them from two directions were nothing more than dogs, animals whose ancestors had been domestic pets and had perhaps strayed from villes nearby and become lost in the wastelands above, seeking shelter beneath. Part of her brain—that part not switched automatically into combat mode—could see that the pack was a mongrel mix. All looked rabid, sores and welts littering their bodies. They had suffered from pack inbreeding and being rad-blasted, some of them had only one eye, some bulbous growths on their heads, others moving fast but with an awkward, almost lame gait.

One thing they all had in common was their teeth: jaws that were strong with sharp teeth that glinted yellow. Their low cries increased in pitch and volume to excited howls of anticipation for the battle and fresh meat.

Given that they were moving in packs from two directions, a load from J.B.’s M-4000 and the shot chamber of the LeMat would have decimated their ranks and made the fight easier. But the dogs moved too fast, closed too quickly. How many of them there were it was difficult to tell, but they closed with a speed that meant there was no time to draw and fire.

The dogs were on them in a blur of fur and muscle, flashing teeth and tearing cloth. The carious breath of the creatures was enough to make any of the companions want to vomit, but they had to choke it down: heaving would have been effort wasted, would have given the creatures that fraction of a second needed to get the first snap of the jaws, tearing at their flesh and scenting blood, spreading disease into any wounds.

The flashlights hit the floor, the beams low and casting shadows up the rock wall, making it dark above a height of three feet and difficult for the companions to see what was happening. They would have to fight according to touch, smell and hearing alone. It wasn’t the first time they’d been in a situation like this.

Jak’s knives moved in a whirl as he ducked the snapping creatures, the razor-sharp metal tearing through fur and flesh into muscle, jarring against bone. Whimpers and squeals of pain mixed in with the frenzied howling as some of the dogs went down, injured or dying. The scent of blood filled the air, driving the surviving dogs on. But some turned on the injured and vulnerable, their feeding frenzy enough to make them turn on their own.