Remember Tomorrow (4 page)

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.

Ryan’s panga sliced through the air, one pass of the blade hitting a dog in an artery, the hot blood spraying across his face, making his eye sting as it hit, filling his mouth and nose so that he had to spit it out, spluttering as it blocked his breath. But he didn’t stop cleaving the air.

Some dogs were getting through between the two point men. Doc thrust at them with the blade, the tightness of their confined space stopping him from using the blade as he would have wished; a sweep of the blade was as likely to strike Mildred or Krysty as it was a dog. At Doc’s back, J.B. was shaking his fogged head to clear it, using the Tekna knife to slice at the attacking creatures with short jabs and thrusts, keeping them at bay.

Which left Mildred and Krysty to pick their targets with care. The men had tried to protect the two women, as they had no blades. Blasterfire was something that all of the companions wished to avoid. There was the danger of missing the target and hitting one of your own; the danger of ricochet and also the danger of any instability in the tunnels themselves. The honeycombs of rock had seemed secure enough, but there had been earth movements at one time. If the caves were in any way unstable…

Using their blasters was the last thing either woman wanted, but the dogs had swept over the companions with such force that, no matter how hard the men worked with their blades, they needed assistance. Claws and teeth were causing scratches to skin, tears to clothing. How long before a set of jaws sunk into flesh? If one went down, how long before the others? Without knowing how big the pack was, there was no way of knowing if they were ahead of the game or falling behind.

“Pick one of the bastards and chill it. We’ve got to,” Mildred yelled.

“Better get it right first time,” Krysty yelled back.

Almost simultaneously their blasters exploded, the sound filling the caves and echoing around, drowning the howls of their attackers.

Only two shots, but they were enough to rebound and reverberate around the cave system, unsettling the delicate balance weight that kept the caves’ roofs from hurtling down. A few pebbles and small rocks dislodged, the sheets of stone, slate and rock that constituted the cave system moaning, those few small stones enough to start a chain reaction that would cause the whole of the system to move.

Not that the companions knew anything of that. Temporarily deafened by the noise of the blasterfire and still battling against the almost total darkness above waist height that handicapped them against the ravenous pack, they were fighting what was beginning to feel like a losing battle. The fur and muscle came hurtling from all angles. The slavering jaws and fetid breath, the snap of the teeth as they grasped thin air or snagged cloth and the growls that were low in the throat, infused with the bloodlust unleashed by the cuts and bruises on the companions as well as the wounds of their own injured: these were all that could be discerned.

Krysty yelped in pain as she was cut by the sweep of Doc’s sword stick, slicing through more rabid canine flesh in the attempt to drive it back.

“A thousand pardons—would that I could see clearly in this pit of hell,” Doc yelled with what, for him, was a remarkable brevity. Krysty didn’t reply; her attention was taken up by the sudden onslaught of mad dog from another position.

Jak could feel the blood of his enemies cover him. Yet as one creature fell back, another seemed to take its place, unheeding of the leaf-bladed knives as they sliced as cleanly through the dogs as they cut through the surrounding air. Paws with sharp claws, honed on the rocks of the caves, cut at his camo jacket. The sharpened pieces of metal and glass that were sewn into the jacket, making it so heavy, served their purpose as they cut the pads on the dogs feet, making them yelp and pull back. The sounds and smells of combat, the hot blood that splashed across his face, drove him on. Jak switched from being Jak Lauren to being a predatory animal that sought to eliminate its prey before it became the prey.

Mildred, already bent double in the confined space, felt one of the creatures thud into her as it leaped against her chest, driving her back against the wall of the cave, the jagged rocks cutting into her spine and driving the air out of her body. Her back muscles twisted and spasmed. The yellow teeth and bloodshot eyes of the dog suddenly loomed into view with a clarity that was hideous, even in the near dark of the tunnel. She raised her ZKR, her hand pinned to her side, twisting her wrist against the body mass of the dog, even as she felt the ligaments tearing with the effort. She felt her hand against the warm, matted fur of the creature, could feel the barrel of the pistol against the ridge of muscle along the dog’s rib cage.

She squeezed the trigger and felt the impact shudder up her arm as the shell ruptured the creature’s muscle and bone, shattering and spreading damage internally. She only hoped that the creature would have enough muscle and bone bulk to deflect and trap the shell, lest it burst out the other side of the creature and take her out in some way. Thankfully, the sudden impact for which she had braced herself didn’t come and she felt the creature lose all life, falling away from her. She eased herself away from the wall, her back protesting as the released pressure allowed her muscles and ligaments to ache freely. But there was no time to pay heed to them, as another blaster shot went off beside her already ringing ears and started a low rumble that grew in volume around them.

Krysty, off balance from Doc’s sword blow, had been driven even more so by two dogs that sensed her sudden vulnerability and attacked. She lashed out at one dark shape with her foot; the pointed silver toe of her cowboy boot, with all the power of her calf and thigh muscles behind it, connected with the point of the dog’s jaw by chance and rendered it senseless. The other dog managed to evade her defenses and jumped for her throat. She raised a defensive arm and brought up her .38 Smith & Wesson blaster to fire. But her timing was awry and as the blaster exploded in her grasp she knew that she had missed the dog. She felt its jaws close on her arm, only the thickness of her bearskin coat stopping it from driving its sharp teeth into her flesh. She clubbed underneath its body with the butt of the blaster, catching it in the balls and making it yelp in sudden agony and surprise, its jaws loosening enough for her to pry her arm free.

But the real damage had already been done. The stray shot ricocheted around the rocks of the cave, taking out chunks and causing fissures to open along weaknesses in the tunnel walls. The tunnels trembled. The ripple effects of the fissures spread and the walls and floor began to move, rock dust powdering from the ceiling of the cave.

“Dark night, it’s coming down,” J.B. breathed, shaking his head to try to clear it, the sudden adrenaline burst of this added danger dragging him back from the brink of blacking out.

The dogs yelped in panic, forgetting their prey, intent only on escaping the danger they now felt was more imminent. They melted into the tunnels, leaving only the dead creatures, the floor slick with their blood. They dissolved into the darkness so quickly that it was hard to believe that the tunnel had been thick with them just a few seconds ago.

But the companions now had more pressing matters than the flight of the dogs occupying them.

Ryan scooped up the flashlight at his feet, miraculously untrampled and still working. It was the only one that was still casting light. He threw the beam in an arc across the cave as far it would stretch. The cracks and falling dust seemed localized.

“This way,” he yelled, gesturing them toward an area in front of him. They scrambled forward in the darkness. If not to safety, at least heading to a place that seemed a little more stable. J.B. stumbled and Millie held back to assist him. Jak was already past them, helping Doc gain ground on Ryan and Krysty, who were about ten yards ahead, visible by the flashlight beam. The rock around them groaned, great fissures opening into gaping maws that presaged chunks of stone falling at their feet and on their heads. Jak had Doc’s arm, but the old man slipped on a slick patch of bloodied earth, losing his footing and stumbling, his arm wrenched out of Jak’s grasp by the downward momentum.

Jak turned on his heel as he ran, trying to reach back for Doc….

The tunnel’s roof fell, slabs of rock coming between them, the impact making the ground shake under Jak’s feet, a falling shard glancing against his temple and nearly knocking him out. In the darkness and the sudden disorientation of the fall, he lost sight of Doc and lost his balance.

It may only have been a second or it may have been an hour. Jak didn’t know, but he was snapped back into consciousness by the sounds of rock being moved around him. Not the random noise of a fall, but the methodical sounds of digging.

On the other side of the fall, Ryan and Krysty pulled at the rocks with grim determination. They had no idea how far behind them the others were, but they knew that the way ahead was clear. Although the tunnel looked stable enough for the moment, they knew there wasn’t a second to waste in getting to their companions.

Jak, in a hole barely big enough to move around in, began to dig toward the sounds as much as possible. To his relief, there was only an inch or two of rockfall between them and he was soon able to make a hole, squinting against the light as Ryan shone the flash through.

“Jak,” Ryan said in an urgent whisper, “where are the others?”

“Doc just behind—fall as rocks come down. J.B. and Mildred?” Jak shrugged. He, too, whispered, aware that too much noise could bring a further fall upon them.

“Let’s try and get through to Doc next,” Krysty said softly. “If he was just behind Jak, there might only be a few inches of rock there, too.”

“We’d better hope so,” Ryan answered, casting his eye over the tunnel behind them. “I don’t reckon we’ve got that much time.”

Some distance away, unable to hear the others, both Mildred and J.B. were painfully regaining consciousness—Mildred considerably sooner than the still-dazed armorer.

“John?” She groped around in the darkness, guided by the small moans that accompanied his labored breathing. Her fingers brushed against him in the darkness. “John, are you okay?”

“Dunno—” he gasped. “Feel heavy in the legs, like I’m pinned—”

Groping blindly, it took her a few seconds to determine that the Armorer’s feet were trapped in the rockfall. She was lucky. Although confined, her limbs were free and nothing felt broken, although every muscle and tendon ached and she had a nasty suspicion that she had sprained her right wrist: touching anything with it sent a sharp pain through her arm that made her stomach lurch.

“Listen, John, I can help you move the rocks, but I’ve only got one good hand—John?” she added in a more urgent tone when he failed to respond, “John, listen to me—try to stay awake.”

“Uh-huh,” he returned in a vacant grunt.

Mildred cursed to herself and started slowly, painfully moving the rocks from his feet, careful not to disturb the surroundings. Only when she had safely done this could she even afford to think about making progress to where the others might be.

A few feet ahead of her, Jak was making progress toward Doc, passing the rocks and stones out to Ryan and Krysty. They worked in a chain; it was quicker in the enclosed space afforded them and also quieter.

The sweat dripped off Jak’s stringy mop of hair, falling into his red eyes and making them sting so that he had to blink heavily to keep focused on what was in front of him. He was able to blank it out, having experienced far worse. Besides, the flash cast some light on what lay ahead, despite the fact that his own body bulk blocked most of the beam as Ryan shone it from behind him. However, he could see a dark patch emerging through the rocks, a dark patch with a gnarled hand at the end of it. Doc’s sleeve.

“See him,” Jak croaked to the duo at his rear, redoubling his efforts. He cleared enough space around Doc to free the old man. Doc’s breathing was labored and harsh, rattling in his chest. He raised his head as the weak light illuminated him.

“Glad as I always am to see your face, friend Jak—” he stopped to cough “—never as glad as I am now.”

Jak grinned. “Talk later, move now.”

Gently, the albino teen cleared more space around Doc and pulled him clear of the rocks. The old man had been lucky: a long slab had fallen across him, preventing the smaller pieces from weighing down and crushing his back. It had made him easier to move, a few stones rattling to the cave floor behind his feet.