Hellbenders - James Axler

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more care. Dean aimed for the end of the creature with the open maw, looking to place more shots within the beast. Jak took the end that disappeared into the tunnel wall, looking to rip holes in it with the slugs from the .357 Magnum Colt Python, the shots roaring from his revolver.

      The creature showed no sign of emotion, made no sound, but was clearly enraged by this attack as it reared back under the initial impact, then ignored the repeated hits about its body and began to slither toward the group of four, Mildred now joining them on her feet, directing shots from the ZKR toward the beast.

      J.B. wondered if a gren tossed into the maw would disable the creature, but had no idea where Ryan, Krysty and Doc were on the other side of the beast. The last thing he wanted was to bring down part of the corridor along with the mutie, thus blocking them off.

      On the other side of the creature, Doc had regained his feet and had retreated a few steps to be nearer to Ryan and Krysty as the mutie moved in the opposite direction. Although it blocked all view of anything on its far side, the noise of the blasterfire and the direction of its movement made it totally clear what was happening.

      “I fear that the creature will be impervious to bullets,” Doc said quickly, “and if it is a mutation of the species I believe it to be, then the worst thing John Barrymore could do would be to use a gren.”

      “Why?” Ryan queried.

      Doc looked astonished. “But my dear boy, a whole host of worms rather than one?”

      “But smaller, Doc,” Ryan replied. “Easier to chill and drive off. Anyway, too risky to use a gren. Could bring down the corridor.”

      “Then what?” Krysty exclaimed. “We can’t leave them.”

      “No, but we can distract that bastard, mebbe drive it back into its hole if it doesn’t know where to turn,” the one-eyed warrior said, holstering the SIG-Sauer and unslinging his Steyr.

      Krysty and Doc both agreed, and as Ryan loosed a round from the rifle, Krysty began to fire steadily with her Smith & Wesson revolver, while Doc gave the creature a charge of shot.

      Attacked on both sides, its flesh irritated and torn, the confused giant mutie worm began to turn toward the group headed by Ryan, before another wave of fire from the other side made it swing around again.

      Each side poured round after round into the creature, cursing it for the waste of every precious shell, but knowing that there was no other way to defeat it.

      Still turning from side to side, the creature began to slither back into its hole, its maw the last thing to disappear. Its speed was the greater for it only having to slide back through the empty rock, its last cast some distance back.

      The companions ceased fire as the corridor gave a little shudder and tremor at the passing of the creature back into the rock from whence it had come. Finally, both sides could see each other once more.

      “Shit, don’t want that sort of trouble too often,” Mildred said, still shaking her head to clear it. “Bet you’re pissed at losing all those rounds, John.”

      The Armorer gave her a grim smile. “We’re not too bad. I kinda hope whoever’s been here hasn’t cleaned out the armory, though.”

      Jak inclined his head. He spoke softly after a few seconds. “Mebbe know sooner than want—hear someone on move.”

      Chapter Three

      “How far?” Ryan asked of the albino.

      “Two levels up—coming fast now,” Jak replied, his eyes shut tight as he listened carefully for noises that the others couldn’t detect.

      “And I don’t think they’re particularly friendly, lover,” Krysty added softly. A swift glance from Ryan to the woman confirmed this, as her sentient hair was closing to her neck and scalp, detectable even as he watched.

      J.B. had been pondering as this exchange took place, and turned to Ryan. “If this redoubt is like the others, then the armory and dispensary are two floors up, and the next level is where the dorms and showers are.”

      “And the kitchens,” Ryan added, nodding his agreement.

      “Great.” Mildred grimaced, allowing a shaft of blackened humor to penetrate the conversation, “at least we can try to beat them to death with a cooking pot.”

      Ryan snorted. “Yeah, great option. How much ammo we got, J.B.?”

      The Armorer looked into the canvas and leather bag he had habitually slung over his back. The bag contained the companions’ spare ammo and grens.

      Ryan knew what the set look on the Armorer’s face meant before the man even mouthed the words.

      “I’d say we’ve got enough, in a decent firefight, to last us about five minutes before it’s all used. We need to find an armory of some kind…or else chill those coldhearts up there with every shot counting.”

      “But we’ve still got the grens,” Dean said. “What d’you reckon?”

      J.B. looked up at the ceiling of the tunnel, turning his head with a slowness that seemed somehow overly luxurious when an enemy was so near.

      “Can’t risk the grens down here,” he said decisively. “There’s too many cracks already in the walls, and if there have been a shitload of those worms crawling through here, then the whole area could be shot through like wormwood. One gren in the wrong place and the only chilling there’ll be will be our own.”

      “Guess that settles that,” Ryan said. “The amount of firefighting we did with that mutie worm bastard, they’re gonna know we’re down here. This has got no cover at all, so let’s get going. Shape up, people.”

      Blasters ready, they fell into formation and moved forward. Ryan took the lead, with Jak moving up to join him and keep his senses alert for the location of the enemy. Krysty came next, with Doc just behind, reloading the LeMat as they moved. Dean and Mildred followed, with J.B. bringing up the rear, switching from the Uzi to the M-4000. He had more cartridges packed with the deadly barbed-metal fléchettes, and figured that they could inflict more confusion and damage at close range than Uzi fire. Besides, in such a situation he would have to switch the Uzi to single shot rather than rapid fire.

      The curving corridor was doglegged as it moved upward, enabling the incline to be relatively gentle and for the slope to need less space underground, allowing rooms and units to lead off it. It was good for the companions, as it didn’t make great demands on their calf muscles, sapping strength. But the downside was that it had more than its fair share of blind corners, and Ryan kept the pace slow as they moved up. He kept his eye firmly on Jak, who would indicate with the briefest shake of his white mane that the enemy was still on the descent, and not around the corner.

      It was a race against time. Ryan wanted to find a position that provided cover before the descending enemy came either head-on into them or was able to establish a position of cover first, and be able to pick off the approaching companions.

      At each corner, the sinews and cords in the one-eyed man’s neck tightened and bulged as he concentrated every muscle, every instinct, every reaction to be ready for the onslaught. But the expected attack didn’t come. Ryan’s gut feeling was that whoever was in charge of the approaching force was of the same opinions as himself, and was playing odds on whether the oncoming companions were to rush straight in, or establish cover.

      “Slowed down,” Jak whispered hoarsely to Ryan. “Not far.”

      The one-eyed warrior assented. They had reached the next level of the redoubt, the incline on the slope leveling out onto a flat floor. Ahead of them a sec door was open, its red coloring just showing at the side of the wall, disappearing into a concrete pillar that also contained the housing for the sec door release mechanism.

      On this side of the door, to their right, lay a dormitory, a shower room to the left. Both doors were closed.

      Ryan

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