all day,” Ryan said. “But why the hell did it start?”
Krysty concentrated, trying to probe their surroundings for a clue, but then the post-Gaia weakness finally struck. Her thoughts scattered like ripples from a pebble tossed into a pond, and she slumped in Ryan’s arms.
Mildred was at her side in a heartbeat. “Are you all right?”
Krysty nodded weakly. “Just worn-out.”
“You just let me know if you need anything.” Mildred patted her cheek lightly.
“What about you?” J.B. put a hand on Mildred’s shoulder, gazing at her with deep concern. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Mildred said. “Not a big fan of this place, but I’m fine.”
“It hellhole,” Jak stated. “We stay longer, it take us like took Doc.”
“Mebbe we should split up,” J.B. suggested. “One group could get Krysty out of here before the next disruption while the other group stays here and keeps looking for Doc.”
“Or,” shouted Ricky, who was standing on the rim of the crater, pointing into the distance, “we could all follow that.”
Ryan carried Krysty to the rim, and the others joined them. As Krysty looked where Ricky was pointing, she saw what he was talking about.
J.B. blew his breath out in a low whistle. “Dark night!”
“Maybe one good thing came out of that crap storm,” Mildred said.
In the distance beyond the giant sinkhole, Krysty saw that a channel now ran through the surface of the earth—a rough-hewn canal filled with a glowing red liquid. The red substance churned and bubbled, shedding plumes of rippling gray steam that revealed, at a distance, just how hot the channel’s contents had to be. Meaning the red liquid could most likely be only one thing.
“Lava,” Krysty said.
“Magically appearing in the middle of the Sandhills, where there’s zero volcanic activity,” J.B. commented.
“That we know of,” Ryan corrected. But how the lava had gotten there wasn’t the important part, and they all knew it. More important by far was what it might do for them.
And whom it might lead them to.
“Don’t you think it could be a trail?” Ricky asked. “Mebbe it’s pointing at the middle of all this.”
J.B. nodded. “The epicenter of the effect.”
“And that might be where they’re taking Doc,” Ricky added.
Ryan nodded. “Might be, at that.”
“Seem like long shot to me,” Jak said. “How know that where taken?”
“We don’t,” J.B. replied. “But we don’t have any better ideas, do we?”
“I think it’s worth a try.” Ryan looked down at Krysty, still resting in his arms. “But mebbe we should still get you out of here.”
Krysty shook her head. “I don’t want us to split up.” She shifted in his grip, signaling that she wanted him to let her down, which he did. “I can handle whatever comes our way. Don’t worry.”
Ryan held her gaze for a long moment, reading all that remained unsaid between them. Krysty knew he was aware she was making a sacrifice, and that it would cost her, but she would gladly do it if it meant finding Doc.
And she knew he was well aware of one other fact as well: once she decided to do something, there could be no stopping her.
“All right, then.” Ryan nodded. “Let’s gather up what’s left of our gear and get moving. The longer Doc’s out there on his own, the less likely it is that we’ll ever see him again.”
Doc blinked furiously as he was dragged from the pitch-blackness and dumped in a space awash in bright white light. For a long moment, he couldn’t see a thing beyond a few dim outlines in the flaring brilliance.
Then, as his eyes adjusted, things slowly took shape around him. He saw that he was in a round, stone-walled chamber, open to the sunlight overhead. He lay on a dirt floor at the feet of a group of muties, unarmed and at their mercy.
The question was, what did they want with him? And why had they brought him here, wherever here was?
“Oh, dear.” As Doc looked around, the muties stared back at him with great interest. They couldn’t take their eyes off him; even as they giggled and tittered in childlike voices, their stares never left him for an instant.
At least they didn’t seem to be exuding hostility. Doc smiled as he sat there, and many of them smiled back at him. The crimson skin of their faces crinkled around their mouths and the corners of their eyes, suggesting a response that was the polar opposite of hostile.
“Well, then.” Doc slowly got to his feet. “Perhaps I have made some new friends after all. Perhaps this has all been an unfortunate mistake.”
Just then, a familiar high-pitched voice piped up over the noise from the crowd. “Not a mistake at all. And we are old friends, not new ones.”
Instantly, Doc recognized the voice as that of the first being who had grabbed him in the lightless stone cell. Turning to look at him, Doc saw a mutie with skin as red as a burning ember. He stood taller than the other muties by at least a head, and wore different clothing, as well. The muties in the crowd were dressed in scavenged predark clothes, while this one wore a gray uniform and boots that were practically in mint condition. Was he a leader, perhaps?
“I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage.” Doc bowed quickly at the waist. “Dr. Theophilus Algernon Tanner, at your service.” Straightening, he raised his eyebrows at the apparent leader of the muties. “And what shall I call you, pray tell?”
The leader sighed and shook his head. “What have they done to you?”
“They? They, who?”
“Your captors, of course. The ones who took you from us.” The leader spread his arms wide. He held Doc’s silver lion’s-head swordstick in his left hand. Doc’s LeMat revolver was holstered at his hip. “We took you back, but they must have done something to you first. Taken your memories or senses. I only hope they didn’t ruin you for your holy work.”
“What sort of holy work is that?” Doc asked, marveling at his command of the English language.
The leader just stared at him with apparent pity and worry. “Have no fear,” he said coolly. “We will heal you, my friend.”
Doc cleared his throat, uncertain of what to say or do next. The only thing he knew for sure what that he’d never seen these particular muties before in his life. “If, as you say, we are friends, perhaps you could humor me. Perhaps you could
