Prophecy by James Axler Page A

had taken them out of the dust and hard-packed, ridged earth, and into something that had a little more to support life. The wheels beneath him no longer bucked and reared, twisting the steering column so that his arms ached with the effort of keeping them on an even path. The clouds of dust and dirt thrown up by hooves now began to decrease in size and volume. It became easier to breathe as the air became less arid. Their progress hastened as the wag was able to follow the riders with less strain and more speed.
    The sun was starting to fall behind the plateau ahead as they picked up speed. Ryan pushed down on the gas, his speed increasing with that of the riders. It was clear that they had every intention of reaching the mountains by the time that the last rays shone over the now blackened outline of the range.
    â€œAny sign of where we’re headed?” Ryan askedKrysty as the near side of the mountain became lost in shadows cast by the descending sun.
    She shook her head. “Can’t see jackshit, lover. We’ll just have to trust in where they’re leading us. Can’t be far now, though. If they don’t live on this side of the range, then they’ll have to stop and make camp for the night, surely?’
    â€œI wouldn’t like to put jack on anything,” Ryan murmured.
    The one-eyed man hit the switch for the headlights on the front of the wag, figuring that the battery and the fuel supply could take the extra drain. He cursed as nothing happened. The mechanism had to have been damaged by the way in which the wag had borne the brunt of the previous day’s pursuit. He would have preferred a little light, as now he felt he was driving blind literally as well as figuratively.
    Gradually, as their eyes adjusted to the lack of light that existed in the shadow of the mountain, they could see that they were being taken onto a trail that led them to the foot of the rock face. Around them, sheltered from the worst excesses of the elements, there were sprouting crops of trees and bush. The trail was worn deep into the soil, telling of regular use. The trees hung over, heavy with leaf and branch, sheltering wildlife that scattered and took cover as the warriors on horseback and the alien roar of the wag approached.
    Yet there was no sign of human habitation. Both Ryan and Krysty, without having to speak, were sharing the same thought. If they kept on going, they wouldrun into the rock face. There was no sign of a path around, and there was nothing that suggested a camp or ville of any kind.
    Then they saw it—an opening in the rock, hidden by bush and overhanging tree branches, the trail they were following veering away at a right angle. As they drew near, Ryan applied the brakes, following the lead of the horsemen, who slowed as they approached. He drew the wag to a halt, leaving the engine ticking, as some of the riders dismounted and began to move some of the brush that stood in front of the mouth of the opening.
    One of the riders came over to them. He indicated an area around the mouth of the opening.
    â€œTake your wag in there, then switch off. We’ll move it to a safe location after you have been taken to our elders.”
    â€œYour elders?”
    The man chuckled. “Nothing for you to get your back up about, One-eye. They’re the ones who sent us to look for you. They’ve been waiting for you for a long time, like you were told.”
    Before Ryan could ask any further questions, the warrior turned and walked back toward the opening in the rock. Ryan looked at Krysty, shrugged, and put the wag into gear, guiding it toward the gaping black maw of the rock mouth.
    Slowly the wag advanced on the black hole. But as they drew near, both began to see more of the place they were about to enter as a procession of dim lights spread a faded yellowing glow over the rock interior.
    As the wag nosed into the cave, they could see that the original fissure had been taken and