By James Axler, Richard Rohan

Audiobook, Fiction, males s experience, motion, Deathlands, Suspense

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Too quiet, almost as if something was distracting her. As the group halted some ten feet from the junction, Ryan whispered, "Something's very wrong with all this. Too easy. " "I don't know, lover," Krysty replied, resting her hand on his arm. He could almost feel the tension in her fingertips. "Back, there I didn't feel like it was a setup. But here it's different. Now that we've got the run of the place, I don't feel danger like they're going to chill us…something different. More devious. Uncle Tyas McCann used to warn us of trying to interpret people who had a different way of looking at things.

One chilled, all chilled. Inevitably they panicked and wanted him detached, their mute cries coming through on the readings as a sudden increase in electrical activity. Readings the like of which no one in the redoubt had ever seen before. MURPHY GLANCED over the shoulder of the hunched tech. His hands were slow on the keyboard, laboriously tapping in a code to trigger a programmed instruction. Except that Murphy knew there wasn't a code. Wasn't a program. "Wallace will have to know," he said. The tech said nothing.

The only blind spot would be right up against the door, which was next to useless. Its steadily flashing red light showed that somebody was watching them. A quick search of his pockets while he gained his equilibrium on the edge of the bed showed the Armorer that his pockets had been stripped of all ammunition, and that his knife had also been taken. That his blasters would have been taken from him he had assumed as a matter of course. He stood and found that his muscles were sluggish, and that his arms and legs felt as though all the tendons had been sliced through.

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