Mark and Alec crossed the street and headed toward the first home. Like most of the ruins in the wealthy neighborhood, it was huge and half burned down. What remained had rotted. Mark followed Alec closely, stopping at the side of the house. They inched up against the wall and caught their breath. No one seemed to have noticed them yet. Of course, many hadn’t even looked up when they’d been in the Berg right over their heads, thrusters burning louder than anything Mark could imagine.
“Okay,” Alec said. “When I saw them, Lana and the others were being led to a house down there.” He nodded toward the street to the right. “But I think we should search each one to be sure. If they’ve been moved, I’d rather not miss them. If we can avoid the main pack of wackos up the street, all the better.”
“Might as well get started, then,” Mark replied. “Right here.”
Alec nodded. “Come on.”
They slipped out from the protection of the wall and headed for the front door—only to run straight into a man standing in front of the entrance. He was dressed in tattered clothing and his face was dirty, a red gash taking up most of his cheek.
“Get out of the way,” Alec barked. “Step away from the door and into the yard or you’ll be dead in five seconds.”
The man gave them a blank look. Then he raised his eyebrows once and did as he was told, stepping calmly off the porch and walking—slowly—onto the weedy, rocky front yard. And he kept walking, without a backward glance, until he reached the sidewalk, where he turned to the right and headed for the activity down the road.
Alec shook his head. “Be ready in case someone jumps out at us.”
Mark planted his feet and aimed his weapon.
Alec held his Transvice with one hand and reached out with the other, grabbing the door and pulling it open. He took a step back as it swung wide, giving Mark a clear shot if he needed it. But the place was empty.
“You go first so I can watch your back,” Alec said, waving his arm for Mark to enter.
“Or watch me get eaten before you do.”
“Trust me on this one, kid. It’s better for you if I’m back here. Now get moving.”
A surge of excitement was pumping through Mark’s body. Fear no longer tugged at him; he was itching to do something. He gave Alec a curt nod and stepped up to the porch and entered the house, sweeping his weapon left and right as he searched the room. Everything was hot and dusty and dark, sunlight visible only through holes in the walls. The upstairs seemed much lighter, though.
The floor creaked with every step he took.
“Stop and listen for a sec,” Alec said behind him.
Mark stilled his body and strained his ears. Other than the distant sounds of the chaotic dance taking place down the street, he couldn’t hear a thing. The house was silent.
“Let’s go top to bottom,” Alec suggested.
The stairs proved to be too broken to manage. Mark gave up after his foot went completely through the third step.
Alec motioned toward a door that seemed likely to lead to the basement. “Bag that idea. I don’t hear anything up there. Let’s check it out down below, then move on.”
Mark carefully removed himself from the stairs and went to the basement door. He gave Alec a confirming look, grabbed the handle and jerked it open. Alec swung his weapon into the gap in case anyone attacked, but nothing happened. A rush of moist, noxious air swept up and over Mark, and he gagged. He had to cough and swallow a couple of times to keep himself from throwing up.
Alec decided to go first this time, stepping through the doorway and onto the landing. He reached back and pulled his flashlight out of his pack, clicked it on and shined it down the steps. Mark leaned in to see dust motes dancing in the bright beam. Alec was just putting his foot forward to start down when a voice rang out from below.
“C-c-come any closer and I’ll l-l-light the match.”
It was a man’s voice, weak and shaky. Alec glanced back at Mark with a questioning look.
Out of the corner of his eye, Mark caught movement, at the bottom of the steps and gestured toward it with his weapon. Alec shined the light down there to reveal the person who’d spoken, who’d just appeared out of the darkness. He was trembling top to bottom and soaking wet, his dark hair matted to his head and his clothes dripping. Little puddles were already forming on the floor. The man’s face was starkly pale, as if he hadn’t left the basement in weeks. His eyes squinted against the brightness of the flashlight.
At first Mark wondered if the man was just sweating profusely. Then he wondered if maybe the guy had some kind of busted pipe or groundwater down there. But then he caught a whiff of gasoline or kerosene—some kind of fuel. And then he noticed that the guy had things in his hands, holding them tight to his waist. In one, he held a rectangular box. In the other, a single match.
“Take one more step and I’ll light it,” the man said.
Chapter 54