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"Could take fifteen seconds. Could easily take a half hour. Could be that J.B. won't be able to pick it at
all."
"Then?"
"Shoot the lock off and go in with all guns blazing. Or try Jak's idea and risk finding another entrance.
Don't much care for the guns-blazing strategy."
"You think Mildred's theory about how they regenerate their wounds is right?"
Ryan rubbed at his chin, wondering in passing when he might have another shave, the stubble rasping
against the back of his hand. "She's the doctor, love."
"It's somehow in the blood, and that's why the blood needs refreshing all the time. So the bones and
ligaments and other parts that don't have a blood supply might be a lot more vulnerable to a bullet."
"Could be." He grinned. "Course, if it's right, they'd hardly tell us, would they?"
EVERYONE WAITED in silence, a silence broken only by the faintest metallic scratchings.
Ryan peered down at his chron. "Eight minutes," he whispered.
J.B. heard and turned toward him, his sallow face glistening with perspiration from the concentrated
effort. "You going to time me, partner?"
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Deathlands 29 - Bloodlines
"Sorry," Ryan muttered. "How's it going?"
"Getting there."
Eleven minutes and forty seconds later the Armorer hissed in triumph. "Yes! Got her."
"I'll go first," Ryan said, unholstering the SIG-Sauer, levering himself upright, aware, as he moved from
the sitting position, that his genitals were still sore.
"Sure you can see well enough?"
"Sure, J.B., sure."
The Armorer folded up the neat pack of lock picks and stashed them in his coat. The door to the attics
stood a little way open, and a cold wind filtered down, with the now-familiar stench of rotting earth.
"Ready," Ryan said. "Don't have to tell you that we're all on triple red. That's shooting first and not
bothering to ask any questions. We know what we're up against and how we agreed to try and take them
out. Let's go."
THE LOW-ROOFED ROOMS WERE all odd angles and blind corners, cobwebs trailing across the face
and mouse-droppings that crunched underfoot.
The dust was so thick that it was possible to move in almost total silence. Ryan led them all up the steep
uncarpeted stairs, pausing to try to get his bearings. An occasional oil lamp, the wick trimmed low, threw
patches of yellow light among the lakes of dark shadows.
Some of the rooms were empty, while others were piled with heaps of old furniture, chairs covered with
rotting brocade and tables with broken legs; tall electric lamps and shelfless cupboards; wind-up
gramophone with a large horn, split down its center, and the scattered parts of a child's toy clockwork
railway.
"I don't feel anyone living up here, lover," Krysty whispered, "unless the Family give off a different kind
of aura to ordinary people."
"Think they've gone? Taken Dean with them on some sort of mission?"
Krysty shook her head, the brilliant red hair curled tight against her skull with the nerve-stretching
tension. "Doubt it. Seems much more likely to me that they've got the boy hidden someplace else in the
house."
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Deathlands 29 - Bloodlines
"Cellars?" Doc suggested.
"Could be. Fireblast, but it's dark as sin up here! Be much worse in the cellars. You got everything all
prepared for the lights, J.R?"
"Yeah. Ready-mixed in my pocket. Just hope that it works like you say, Ryan."
"I'm not saying it'll definitely work. Saying it should work, is all."
One of the biggest of the attic rooms had a large double bed in it, with a stained mattress and knotted
cords fixed to the four corners of the heavy brass frame. But that was the only chamber on the whole of
the top floor that seemed to show any sign of recent habitation.
"Down we go," Ryan said, turning quickly away from the sight, the memories of his time there too recent
and much too painful. Krysty said nothing.
THE DOOR TO THE CELLARS was unlocked. Ryan took the handle and turned it, letting go
immediately, wiping his fingers on his pants to try to remove the horrible chill dampness that felt
disgustingly stuck to them.
The smell that filtered up seemed to come from the bowels of the land, stinking far worse than anything
else around the house. It seemed to grip by the throat, with its overwhelming carrion odor of decay.
"Dark night!" J.B. exclaimed at Ryan's heels. "Something's died there, long ago."
"Bad," Ryan added, gagging, closing his eye and swallowing hard, breathing through his mouth to try to
avoid puking all over the top of the flight of stairs that led into the cellars.
"Maybe I'll wait here," Mildred said. "Sorry, but I just don't think I can face that stench without passing
out. It could actually be poisonous, you know."
Ryan turned to her. "Why don't you wait here with Krysty and Doc? We need a rear guard. If something
goes wrong down there in the pit, then we have to have backup."
"There's something down there," Krysty said, her face as pale as parchment, eyes glittering with an
unnatural emerald brightness. "I can feel them."
"Then we'll go. Just me, J.B. and Jak. Rest of you stay and chill anything that comes out of here."
Krysty licked her dry lips. "This is real bad, lover," she said, voice trembling. "I mean, seriously evil. I've
never felt anything so potent and wicked as what's down there, below the good earth."
"Could we not possibly all wait here? Ambush them as they come out into the hall." Doc wiped
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Deathlands 29 - Bloodlines
perspiration from his high forehead. "I vow that I feel a greater fear at this moment than I ever did
before."
"Me too, Doc," Ryan admitted. "But our plan only has a real chance if we can split them. We come up
against all four of the Family together, and I reckon we could find ourselves neck deep in big muddy."
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