In the end they had not put up a struggle when the host of misshapen beings had come for them. Trapped, unable to go forward or back and outnumbered, even Teresa had seen the wisdom of surrender. Or maybe she was simply afraid. When she’d handed over her shotgun, her hand had shaken like a leaf, and Justin couldn’t blame her. Like horrible caricatures of human beings, all distended limbs and pasty, bumpy, malformed flesh, the creatures didn’t exactly inspire endearment, not to mention they reeked to high heaven.
The only one of them not taken prisoner had been the Kid. Like the wary animal he was, he had, despite the narrow confines of the tunnel, simply vanished; one minute he’d been at Teresa’s side, the next he was just plain gone. Where he was at the moment was anyone’s guess.
Once relieved of their weapons, they’d been led by their captors (and Bowler, who skulked along in the back) to their present location, a damp, smelly cave of some kind, apparently deep in the earth and connected, as promised, to a whole network of tunnels and caverns. Here, despite efforts by Justin to talk to them, the creatures had simply shoved them in and locked a thick metal door behind. Now, maybe an hour after their capture, he, Teresa, and Erin sat in the pitch darkness and, in desperate whispers, talked it over.
“What are these people?” asked Erin, voicing Justin’s foremost question. “I mean, is this some side-effect from the plague or some kind of radiation poisoning or what? Doctor?”
“I don’t know,” said Justin honestly. “That is, there are a few medical precedents, at least in extreme cases, for such deformities. Things like Marfan Syndrome and Loeys-Dietz, examples of Multiple Endocrine Neoplasia, but to this extent? I just don’t know.”
“What all that ploop?” asked Teresa, fidgeting. “Some other kinda Sick?”
“Yes, in a manner of speaking,” said Justin. “But unfortunately I have many more questions than answers. These… people, their condition, and in such numbers, are absolutely unprecedented.”
“Hey, great,” moaned Erin. “So we don’t even know what they are, let alone who!”
“Can ya catch it?” demanded Teresa. “Like the Sick? Cause I don’ wanna end up lookin’ like these greeps! Blech!”
“No, no,” said Justin. “It’s nothing like that. This is some kind of genetic mutation, unless I miss my guess. But how could it have become so extensive, and without anyone knowing about it? And why here, specifically? I have to say, it’s intriguing.”
“Intriguing?” hissed Erin bitterly. “Here we are, locked up in some stinking, God-forsaken hole by a bunch of freaks and you call it intriguing? Jesus, Doc!”
“Yes, well,” said Justin brusquely. “I suppose you might call it professional curiosity. But the real issue here is not these unfortunate people or their strange affliction. Don’t forget, we’re here to find Mr. Lampert.”
“What, locked in here?” said Erin. “How are we supposed to do that? And anyway, how do we know he’s even here? Bowler lied about everything else. Why not about that, too?”
“Enh, that fuckin’ rat,” snarled Teresa. “Shoulda blaster-ated him good!”
“Maybe so,” said Justin. “But that’s beside the point. And as far as Lampert really being down here, well, I don’t know what to say. Maybe you’re right. Maybe the Old Man is a hundred miles from here. Or even dead. But we still have to make sure.”
“I suppose,” said Erin miserably. “But I dunno, Doctor. I think maybe we’ve finally run out of luck, you know?”
“Could be,” Justin said. “But then again, I’ve had that very thought about a dozen times since we left New Atlanta, so who knows? We’re not dead yet.”
“At’s true,” said Teresa. “An’ if these mutie freakers wanted us dead, we be worm chow by now. Naw, they savin’ us for somethin’.”
“Like what?” Justin hesitantly asked.
“Who know?” Teresa replied. “Make us work, mebbe, slave-wise. Sell us to someone else? Course, they might just be cannibos. Mebbe they savin’ us to eat, like later on.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” said Justin, a new sinking feeling in his gut. “And I suppose you’re right, but that remains to be seen. For the present, I fear there’s little we can do but wait.”
“Grrr,” said Teresa. “I hate waitin’.”
It was only about an hour before their cell door was opened and a familiar figure, that of Barbara Cass, was shoved into their midst. There was a glimpse of malformed limbs and a lumpy head in the tunnel outside and then the door slammed shut again and they were back in the dark. Justin went straight to Cass, who had seemed well enough at first glance, if flustered, and gently touched her arm.
“Barb?” he said softly. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”
Cass gave a sort of shuddering sigh. “I guess so,” she said, not sounding all that sure about it. “I mean, I’m not injured or anything. But good Lord, Doctor Kaes, these people! I mean, Jesus, have you seen them?”
“Yes, we have,” said Justin. “And they are rather disturbing in appearance. But Barb, I have to know, what about Mr. Lampert?”
“Oh, he’s here,” said the nurse. “Somewhere. They grabbed us both, after we got the better of that little psycho guy who killed Cornell.”
“But the Old Man is here, in these tunnels?”
“Far as I know,” said Cass. “Last I saw him, he was having a little chat with the Emperor.”
“He… what?” said Justin, shaking his head. “Wait, I think you’d better back up. What happened? After we were tranquilized, that is.”
Cass sighed again and sat down heavily on the wet floor. “Well, we tricked him,” she said finally. “To make a long story short, Lampert caused a distraction and I shot him up with enough synthorazine to put down an elephant. So we were free. We were going to take the car and come find you, but then these… people showed up and, well, there were so many of ‘em, and they were just so weird looking and all, and, well, we had to give up. They took us down into these tunnels, stuck us in a cave, and…”
“And?” prodded Justin. “What then? Where is Lampert?”
“Well, here’s the thing, Doctor Kaes,” said Cass. “These things have a leader. A human leader. This man who calls himself Emperor Johnson. And Emperor Johnson? Well, let’s just say that he’s not exactly playing with a full deck. In fact, though I’m no expert, I’d have to say that he’s violently insane.”
“Oh, wonderful,” moaned Erin. “Just great.”
“But what about Lampert?” Justin persisted. “You say he was chatting with this Johnson person, but is he alright? How is his health?”
Cass shook her head sadly. “Not that good, I’m afraid. It’s these horrible damp caves, the food and water they give us. I tried my best to keep him warm and dry, but, well, he has a bad cough. Maybe early stages of pneumonia. If we don’t get him out of here, it won’t be good.”
Justin nodded grimly, worried. “Yes, of course, but how to do that? What about this Emperor fellow? Why do you say he’s insane? Can’t we reason with him?”
“Maybe, but I doubt it,” Cass said. “This guy is pretty out there. Wears this whole costume, all dressed up like an old-time king, you know? And he’s… I don’t know, like a child or something. Like brain damaged or just totally bonkers. No grasp of reality. You know what he calls this place? This stinking shit-hole? The Exalted Realm of Below! No, I wouldn’t count on reasoning with him.”