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played over her features. She let her head slump, hands plucking at the seams
of
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Axler, James - Earth Blood 02 - Deep Trek.htm her khaki pants and dragged her
feet so that the heels of her boots scuffed at the dusty concrete floor of the
narrow corridor.
"Taking you outside."
"Why?"
"To let you go."
"Free?"
"Sure." The brutish laugh gave the lie to his words. The man was totally
arrogant in his sense of complete power over the cringing old woman.
For a few paces they were out in the open, crossing a patch of dead grass and
barren soil. Nanci glanced around her, trying to get her bearings, making sure
that he was taking her to the isolated killing passage.
There was what she thought might be a smaller cell block, with only two or
three rooms in it. The guard unlocked another grilled door, pushing her into a
brightly lit room, then through another door. Two doors to the left. One to
the right.
A second guard was lounging against the wall.
"Hi, Joe. How're ya going?"
"Just got to get rid of this."
"Want a hand?"
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The same laugh that made Nanci bite her lip. "For this? You're jokin', man.
Get her doing the chicken dance and be back ready for supper."
"See you in there."
"Sure."
The door slamming.
A stretch of corridor about thirty feet long. Stark overhead strip lights. One
door on the right. One more ahead, heavier, with steel double bolts.
And iron hooks, eight of them, set in the stone wall. The wall and the floor
beneath were stained brown and black, and the smell almost made Nanci Simms
gag. Terror and pain and death. Something that could never be cleaned away.
"What is this place?" she asked.
"End of the road, slut."
There were two small four-legged stools against the wall. "You said I could
go."
"Won't need them stools. Just lift you up and loop the wire around your
scrawny neck. Let you dangle."
"No, God Almighty. You can't do that."
"Watch me." One hand scratched his balls. "Yeah, your eyes'll pop out of your
ugly bitch head watching me."
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"Mother of mercy, this can't be the end of Veronica. Someone'll hear me."
"Yeah. Me and Ed through there. And our special prisoner in his own little
room," he said, pointing to the side door. "He won't help. Nor me an' Ed
will."
That was what she needed to know.
The door must be to the outside. If the guard had the key, it might work. If
he didn't&
And nobody else close enough.
She dropped suddenly to her knees, looking up at the hulking figure with a
pleading, desperate expression, hands reaching in a hopeless, clumsy fumbling
toward the guard's belt. "I'll do anything," she stammered.
"Anything?"
"Everything. Bet you never been offered everything. I could be real nice for
you."
She stared into his face and saw the momentary flicker of crimson lust deep in
the tiny eyes.
"No, forget it. Might let you give me a blow job 'fore I swing you. Least you
can die happy." He bellowed with laughter. "Die fucking happy."
IN HER OFFICE in the main administrative block, the chief of the Hunters of
the Sun wiped her mouth with a white linen napkin, dabbing gently at her lips.
She looked at the last few inches of wine in the dark green bottle and decided
that she would wait until after the questioning.
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It was going to be special.
Reports she'd read of the initial interrogation of the journalist by some of
her juniors had tended to make her believe that he truly didn't know much
about
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Zelig and his secret rat hole in the north. But she was equally sure that her
own tender, feminine touch might easily open up parts of his memory he didn't
even know about himself.
They knew that most of the crew of the ill-fated shuttle were dead. But some
had dropped clean off the face of the earth, and Jeff Thomas would certainly
be able to tell her all about them. Point a helpful finger.
She laid her napkin on the table and stood up, pressing a white recessed
button beneath the edge of the table. "Think I'm ready to speak to the
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