Free Prodigal's Return by James Axler Page A

Unfortunately, there were no belts or ammo boxes or even loose brass, so Doc turned his back on the stash of deadly man-portable rapidfires. A blaster without brass was only deadweight.
    Sighing in disappointment, Mildred closed the door on a first-aid cabinet. Aside from a box of elastic bandages, which she took, everything else on the shelves was over a century old and couldn’t be safely used, even in an emergency.
    J.B. opened a cupboard and removed a couple glass bottles of vinegar from a shelf. “These will do fine for Molotovs!”
    “Why do they store that in here?” Mildred asked, clearly puzzled.
    “Nothing cleans off Cosmoline better than vinegar,” J.B. stated, already turning away to continue the search.
    Deciding to check the drawers of the wooden desk, Krysty found a metal box bolted into place inside. Now, that was curious. The box was locked, but as a small child she had learned how to open such things with only a knife and a slim piece of wire. The trick didn’t always work, but this time it did, and inside the lockbox were a pile of laminated security passes, a dusty S&W .38 revolver and a plastic-wrapped cardboard box marked Remington.
    Eagerly, she removed the airtight plastic to find the box full of rounds.
    “Over here!” she called, waving an arm. “Fifty live rounds!”
    “What caliber?” Jak asked hopefully, looking up from a trash barrel.
    “Thirty-eights.”
    “Hot damn, back in biz!” he exclaimed, turning and pulling out his .357 Magnum Colt Python. The cylinder could accommodate both standard .38 bullets and the much more powerful .357 Magnum rounds. Firepower was good, but versatility was even better.
    Eagerly, Krysty, Mildred and Jak divided the contents of the cardboard box, each of them promptly reloading their blasters. Since she had found the stash, Krysty got the extra few rounds, then Jak checked therevolver in the drawer to find six more live brass. He started to remove them, then paused with a frown.
    “Here, Doc, you take,” he said, walking across the room. “Six of something better than nine of nothing.”
    “I still carry two charges,” Doc corrected, accepting the modern-day revolver. “But as always, my friend, you are the very epitome of pragmatism.”
    Jak frowned. “That good?”
    “Indeed it is.” Opening the revolver, Doc made sure the bullets were in good shape, then removed them to dry fire the weapon a couple of times, checking the action. The trigger was tight and light, the hammer smooth, the barrel clear of any obstructions. Perfect! But then, considering that the military-grade weapon had been tucked into a locked box, sealed inside a desk that was located within a vault situated at the heart of a nukeproof fortress, he would have been highly surprised to find the weapon in anything but perfect working condition. However, bitter experience had taught him that the first time a person took such things for granted was always when they failed spectacularly, usually sending the person straight into the grave.
    Doc reloaded the weapon before tucking it into his canvas gun belt. The S&W revolver actually weighed less than the ammunition for his LeMat, and he made a somber mental note to aim higher at a target in compensation for the lack of a proper recoil.
    Eventually, the companions were done searching the armory, locating nothing more interesting then a roll of fuse for J.B. to use, even though he didn’t have any explosives to attach it to at the moment. Continuing the interrupted sweep of the redoubt, they were soonsatisfied that there was nobody else present, and finally headed for the much needed showers.
    “At last!” Krysty sighed, shrugging off her filthy bearskin coat before starting to remove her shirt.
    While everybody got undressed, Doc went off to shower alone. In his time period, any form of nudity was totally unheard-of, strictly forbidden, tantamount to devil worship, and even though he now knew better, he simply couldn’t shake