“Look!” Hickok exclaimed.
Fluid gushing from its underside, the crab was tottering, on the verge of collapse. Its legs buckled and it crashed onto its stomach, trembling, its claws thrashing the air. After a minute the claws fell to the roadway with a distinct thump and the creature was still.
“We did it!” Hickok elated.
“We were lucky,” Blade said quietly.
“Lucky? It was a piece of cake!” Hickok declared, using his favorite expression. “The critter never laid a claw on us.”
Blade slid over the brick wall and cautiously approached the crab as he inserted a fresh clip into the Commando.
Rikki and Yama were walking toward the bulky corpse from the other side of the street.
Hickok came up on Blade’s right. “What if there are more of these things around?”
“There probably are,” Blade said.
Rikki and Yama warily stepped around the rear of the crab and rejoined their fellow Warriors.
“If we keep going at this rate,” Yama remarked, “we’ll run out of ammo before we find Manta.”
“Each of us has twelve clips,” Blade said. “That should be enough.”
“The ocean must not be far off,” Rikki commented. “A crab like this wouldn’t wander a great distance from the water.”
Blade pointed to the east. “Lake Washington is less than a mile that way.” He shifted and pointed to the west. “And Puget Sound is three or four miles in that direction. The crab could have come from either one.”
“First a passel of mangy mutts, and now a crab the size of Mount Everest,” Hickok mumbled. “What next? Carnivorous daffodils?”
Blade scrutinized the road to the south. “We could encounter anything.
There’s no predicting how the radiation might have affected the local flora and fauna.”
Hickok squared his shoulders. “I’m ready when you are, pard.”
Blade resumed their journey. As they trekked southward the buildings became generally even larger and more numerous. They were packed close together, as if prewar space had been at a premium. They reached the crumpled remains of a wide thoroughfare.
“What was this?” Hickok inquired.
Blade removed his map and consulted the reference guide at the bottom of the page. “This was State Highway 513.” He nodded to the right.
“Interstate 5 should be a mile and a quarter to the west. Let’s find it and follow it into the inner city.”
“You’re the boss,” Hickok said.
Blade led them toward Interstate 5. They passed row after row of damaged edifices, including a few over five stories tall.
“Are most big cities like this?” Yama asked.
“Let’s see,” Blade said, enumerating his travels. “I’ve been to the Twin Cities, Denver, St. Louis, Philadelphia, New York, Houston and Los Angeles. Not to mention quite a few small towns. I’d say Seattle is about par for the course. Minneapolis and St. Paul were spared a direct hit, so they’re in a bit better shape. Denver, as you know, became the capital of the Civilized Zone, and although it’s changed since the war the city was unscathed. St. Louis is in the hands of a biker gang, but it’s in fair condition. Philadelphia is in Russian-controlled territory. Houston is managed by androids, and you wouldn’t believe what they’ve done there.
Los Angeles is much like it was before the war.”
“And New York?” Yama queried.
“New York is history,” Blade said. “The Big Apple was one of the first targets the Soviets hit, and they used an H-bomb. Geronimo and I went to New York, remember? The city is nothing but melted slag.”
“I wonder what Portland looks like,” Hickok mentioned. “If it was hit, like you said, then it must look like New York.”
“We’re being watched,” Rikki suddenly interrupted.
The Warriors halted.
“Where?” Blade asked, searching the closest structures.
“I don’t know,” Rikki replied.
Hickok looked in all directions. “I don’t see anyone.”
“I know we are being watched,” Rikki insisted. “I can feel their eyes on us.”
Hickok glanced at the martial artist, grinning. “Have you been readin’ those old superhero comic books in the Family library again?”
Yama slowly pivoted, probing the buildings. “Movement,” he declared.
“Where?” Blade demanded.
Yama motioned with his Wilkinson at a seven-story-square structure to the south. “There. On the fourth floor. I saw a face at the busted window in the middle.”
“Human?” Blade inquired.
“Seemed to be,” Yama said. “But I saw it for just a second.”
Blade studied the building, examining the rows of shattered windows on the side fronting the highway. He saw several enormous yellow letters near the top, part of a wrecked sign.
What in the world was an ANK?
Blade discerned a row of lesser letters under the first word.
What did it mean? He moved toward the ANK, his Commando at the ready. If there was someone inside the building, then whoever it was might know where to find Manta.
“Orders, pard?” Hickok asked.
“I want to question whoever is in there,” Blade said. “We take him or her alive.”
“What if it’s a mutant?” Hickok noted.
“Don’t kill it unless it tries to harm us,” Blade directed.
“I hope it’s not a carnivorous daffodil,” Hickok quipped.
“Enough already with the daffodils,” Blade said.
“What have you got against flowers?” Hickok rejoined.
Blade kept his eyes trained on the windows. They were a block from the building, which was on their right, with trees bordering the sidewalk to their left.
“I don’t like this, pard,” Hickok mentioned. “This is a perfect spot to be bushwhacked.”
“I sense danger,” Rikki concurred.
Blade slowed his pace. “We can’t turn back. Stay sharp.”
Blade saw a face appear at the window on the fourth floor, but the visage withdrew before he could identify whether the countenance was human or otherwise.
“Did you see that?” Hickok asked.
“I saw it,” Blade confirmed.
The Warriors angled toward a series of concrete steps leading to a pair of huge glass doors. Amazingly, the glass panes were unbroken.
“Would it be wise for all of us to go inside?” Rikki queried.
“No,” Blade said. “If this is a trap, then two of us should stay outside.
Hickok and I will go in. Yama and you will cover us from those steps.”
“Be careful,” Yama cautioned.
“What can happen? He’s with me,” Hickok stated.
Yama grinned. “Be doubly careful,” he told Blade.
Blade grew tense as he reached the bottom of the steps. He lightly touched his trigger finger to the Commando trigger. Just in case. “On me,” he said to the gunman.
“Like a shadow,” Hickok promised.
Blade nodded at Rikki and Yama, then took the steps two at a time. He gained the uppermost step and darted to the right of the glass doors, his broad back to the wall.
Hickok ducked to the left.
Squinting because of the glare on the glass panes, Blade leaned forward and peered inside. The recesses of the building were dark and ominous.
“Ready when you are, pard,” Hickok whispered.
Blade wrenched on the right-hand door, flinging it wide and lunging inside, moving to the right away from the lighted doorway.
As before, Hickok bore to the left.
Blade crouched and waited for his eyes to adjust to the murky dimness.
The chamber they were in was spacious and filled with dust-caked furniture. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling. To the right was a wooden counter running the length of the room, while to the left were six desks positioned along the wall. At the rear of the chamber, in the center, was an elevator shaft with the door open and the cage gone. Blade could just make out a black cable dangling down the shaft.