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“Thank you!” said Justin, nodding at the man. “That was terribly annoying.”

As he saw to Lampert, Cass and Swails, Teresa came over to him, eyes still flashing from the thrill of the fight, and he saw that, other than a good bruise on one cheek and some skinned knuckles, she was unharmed. On the other hand, he found that Erin Swails was still out of it, staring vacantly at nothing, her mouth half-open in a dumb, slack line. Cass, likewise seemed to be in shock, only vaguely aware of what was happening, and would only look around fearfully and mutter to herself. Justin frowned, deeply worried, but he knew that he couldn’t do much for them at the moment. He would have to get them all out of here, away from all this death and pain and madness, as soon as possible. Still feeling almost disembodied, but maybe a little bit more in control, Justin turned to Teresa, who’d been joined by a grinning, capering Kid.

“We have to get out of here,” he said gravely. “All of us, and quickly.”

“No argie from me!” said Teresa. “Grab our gear an’ the Ol’ Man an’ jet!”

“Everyone else, as well,” said Justin. “We can’t leave anyone here with these creatures.”

“Even this guy?” asked Mr. Lampert, standing over the inert form of the Small Man. “The dude that murdered Cornell an’ stole all yer stuff? You gonna save his ass, too?”

Justin thought about it, but it wasn’t really an issue. Not even the worst, low-life cannibal survie deserved to be left to the mercy of these things. And besides, he’d had to admire the man’s spirit in a fight.

After a moment, he went over to where the Old Man stood, knelt down next to the man, and looked him over, but there were so many individual injuries, from bruises to lacerations to strange, already-bandaged cuts, that he couldn’t really judge the man’s overall condition. He thought of dragging Cass over here to administer First Aid, but then demurred. Barb was in no shape to do much of anything at the moment. Justin looked up at the Old Man.

“We can’t just leave him,” he said. “Can we? I mean, even if those creatures don’t get him, he might die from his injuries. We have to bring him along.”

“Eh,” said Lampert, coughing. “I guess so, if you wanna stick with the whole altruistic, humanity’s worth saving kinda shtick. Me? I still ain’t so sure, but there ya go.”

“Yes, well,” said Justin grimly, “for a moment there I almost had my doubts.”

“Yeah?” the Old Man smirked. “Heh. Well, welcome to my world, Doc.”

They were interrupted by the approach of the powerfully-built Hispanic man and the other two surviving would-be victims. The first of these was an older man, maybe sixty, tall and thin, bearded and wearing only a sort of loincloth, with flashing gray eyes and a big, toothy mouth. The other was a small woman, maybe twenty-five years old, with tangled brown hair, a very pale complexion, and a generally filthy appearance, who very warily followed along. The Hispanic man rushed to the side of the Small Man and knelt across from Justin.

“How is he?” he asked, flicking a party favor from the Small Man’s chest. “Is he dead?”

“No,” said Justin. “He’s not dead. But he’s not in very good shape, either.”

The man eyed Justin for a moment. “Who are you, man?” he finally asked. “What the fuck you doin’ here?”

“I, that is,” Justin gabbled. What was he doing here? And, for that matter, who was he? Finally, he swallowed hard and frowned. “My name is Kaes,” he said. “And we were captured by these creatures.”

“Huh,” said the man. “Same as us. Well, my name’s CJ. This here,” he gestured at the older man, who nodded back, “is Seymour.”

“Well, uh,” said Justin, “it’s nice to meet you. What about her?” he asked, meaning the small, dirty woman lurking behind him. CJ looked at her and shrugged.

“No idea,” he said. “Just laid eyes on her today, when they was tyin’ us to them poles. “Hey, you!” he called to the woman. “You got a name?”

The woman glared back at them, her eyes darting from face to face, but she said nothing. CJ looked back to Justin and shrugged.

“Guess not,” he said. “But then, if I hadda be down here with these deformo pendejo freaks much longer, I might be kinda shook up, too. You know?”

“Indeed,” said Justin. “I feel a bit lightheaded myself.”

CJ nodded and, after another long look at the Small Man, stood up and looked around. Then he stripped a checkered tablecloth from a nearby table and began to tear it into strips, obviously for bandages.

“Gotta patch this dude up,” he said. “Get him stable.”

“I can do that,” said Justin hesitantly. “If you’d like.”

CJ eyed him again. “Why, you some kinda doctor? A nurse or somethin’?”

“Or something,” Justin said. “Not exactly an expert, but yes, I have some training.”

With a grunt, CJ handed over the torn tablecloth. “Suits me. Anyway, we gotta have us a look aroun’ this place. At least find the way out!”

Justin thought for a second, but his mental bicycle was hitting an icy patch again. All he knew was that he needed to treat this man for his more obvious injuries and get himself, the Old Man, and the others out of here as soon as he could. Staying, for even a short while, was about as appealing a prospect as having his head nailed to the wall. But then, he had to admit that, given the maze of tunnels and chambers, he had no idea how to leave. Woodenly, he nodded at CJ.

“That sounds good,” he said. “You go have a look around.”

Teresa (and the Kid, just at her heel) stepped forward and proclaimed that she was going to go with CJ and Seymour.

“Fine with me,” said CJ. “You’re sure as shit good in a fight!”

“Hey, wait!” said Justin; he didn’t like the sound of this. Desperately, he looked up at Teresa. “What if we need you here? What if those things come back? Or what if you find more of them? These tunnels go on forever; who’s to say what you might run into? No, I think you should stay here.”

She looked at him and her features softened and she smiled. “You always lookin’ out for me, huh, Case? But here’s the think: I gotta get my stuff back, all the gear they stole when they grabbed us, hey? My satchel, my boomstick, they’s gotta be aroun’ here somewheres.”

“Yes, but,” Justin tried and then gave up; there was just no use in arguing with her. “Well, alright,” he sighed. “Go find your things. But please, be careful. And don’t waste any time. The sooner we’re out of this place, the better.”

“Trackin’ that,” nodded Teresa. “We be back before ya know.” Decorously, almost girlishly, she knelt and kissed him on the cheek. “You jus’ sit tight, Case, an’ watch yer Ol’ Man. We be back right zip.”

With that, she, CJ, Seymour, and the small, angry, dirty woman trooped off into one of many tunnels that led out of the big chamber. With a fresh new lump in his throat, Justin finished bandaging the Small Man as best he could and found that while the man’s injuries were extensive and numerous, none seemed fatal. Obviously, what he lacked in size he more than made up for in toughness. After doing all he could with the very limited resources at hand, Justin wiped his hands on his pants, stood up, and looked around.