Free Lost Gates by James Axler Page B

to the dorms. Once there, she set about treating Doc, biding her time before sharing her thoughts with the others. As she tended to the bump onthe old man’s head, which had now swollen and reddened showing the extent of the bruising from the repeated blows on the floor of the wag, she kept an eye on the two sec men. They watched her closely, as if expecting her to practice some deception.
    “I’m only tending to his head, boys. Nothing to see here,” she said with a heavy irony. “Why don’t you just leave us to get some rest? Your boss has pulled the rest of you out of here, and there’s no way we can escape, right?”
    The sec men exchanged looks. The woman had an undeniable point. McCready had stationed men outside the dorm, and there was only the one entrance and exit. They looked uncomfortably at each other and then withdrew.
    Mildred sighed with relief. Sure, there was no way out. But who knew what the companions would discuss if left alone? Good at following orders, but not too bright could be said of both the sec men and their leader, she guessed.
    Having tended to Doc, Mildred was glad to strip off and get in the shower, feeling the needle-sharp points of hot water beat at her skin, massaging away the tiredness and tension. Her wrists and ankles smarted as the water hit them, but soon the water became soothing. She could feel the waves of torpor roll over her, and she wanted nothing more than to sleep. But as important as rest might be, she couldn’t allow herself to succumb until she had discussed what had happened in the medical facilities.
    Doc followed her into the showers, his head now clearing. He was, to be sure, a trifle uncertain of whathad happened to him over the previous twelve hours, knowing only for sure that his head hurt like hell. But while Mildred had been showering, Krysty had filled him in. Doc firmly believed that he had been concussed. He knew what his crazy moments were like, albeit fewer of late, and they didn’t fit with what he had experienced or felt. There were parts of the past twelve hours that were clear, and others that were hazy, as though he had been struggling to move and breathe through cotton wool. He could only hope that he would be of more use in the hours to come.
    The time it took him to shower allowed Mildred to gather her thoughts and listen to the others. Left alone, they had reached a consensus that now was not the time to act, but that it would be necessary to keep triple red for the slightest opportunity. None was under the illusion that Crabbe wished to use their knowledge—as he saw it—and then keep them around. He currently had the whip hand. It was up to them to see that it changed.
    When Doc emerged, Mildred told them about what had happened in the medical room. It was a small enough thing in itself, but the import of it wasn’t lost on the rest of the group.
    “If, perchance, we can engineer an opening in which we can reverse the positions between ourselves and the baron and his men, then an escape from here would be relatively simple. After all, who is there to follow us should we disable the forces he has down here?” Doc grinned. “And then perhaps we should pay that conniving knave Valiant a brief visit, to pay him the remainder of his blood jack in kind.”
    “Easy, Doc,” J.B. said. “One thing at a time. Besides, if Crabbe disappears, who are his people going to blame?”
    “Agreed,” Ryan added. “We look out for ourselves first and settle scores second. A long way settled.”
    Doc pondered that. “A fair point, uh, Brian. But a man can dream. Besides which, I think I would prefer to be Brian, rather than Jock. Or even Snowy,” he added with a grin directed at Jak.
    “Thing is, we should forget this for now, if we can,” Mildred said. “Keep alert for the slightest break when we’re out there, sure. But right now, rest is what we need. We’re not going to be any good to each other unless we get some of that right now.”
    They