In six strong strokes Connor gained the edge of the flooded section to erupt over the edge, rolling clear. He scrambled frantically to the side and wildly tore the high-voltage wire from place, hurling the bare copper into the water. Then he twisted back wildly as a titanic skeletal image was lit above him—500,000 spiraling volts of electricity burning itself upward through the Dragon.
“Ahh ...”
Connor gasped, falling back.
In a white firestorm Leviathan was splayed almost to the ceiling of the passage, bones visible as its skin seemed to glow translucent.
Connor knew that in another second the beast would have had him. But he had beaten it, by a second. And for the moment, the Dragon surged with pure power, glowing, unable to escape the supercharged water. Howling, shrieking, it twisted against the electrical tendrils that blasted upward through its colossal, demonic form.
“Die!” Connor screamed. “Die! Die! Die!”
But he knew that it wouldn't die – not yet. Just as he knew that the longer it fought the current, the hotter the spiraling circuit would overheat its already superheated blood until it was boiling.
Leviathan glared down and Connor leaped to the side as a wild and uncontrolled blast descended, igniting the stone where he had stood. The blaze streamed upward across the ceiling in a holocaust that cascaded back down the wall. Only at the last moment did Connor see the streak descend toward the wire and he finally rolled wide, shouting.
Fire struck fire, the blast hurling Connor fifty feet back into the tunnel. He crashed against something unrelenting to collapse to the ground, rolling, breathless.
Stunned, rising by will alone, Connor spun to glare, shaken and shocked and numb beyond all he had ever known, to see Leviathan slashing, churning in the water. It was trying to regain control of its nervous system. Then Connor saw the burned wiring, and he realized that the beast had broken the current.
Grimacing, Connor turned and ran. Something told him he was limping, that his leg was ravaged by some impact he couldn't understand but he didn't care. Now he was carried beyond every measure of pain by his anger, rage, and love. He fell through the door of a manually sealed section of Brubaker with a groan, taking a deep breath and aiming the pistol. He fired continuously at the cable until it broke, ignoring the lead splinters.
The vault thundered shut.
Light-headed and reeling, Connor moved quickly down the hundred-yard stretch, trying not to breathe at all. The vault before him seemed incredibly far, and then he heard the terrific attack against the portal behind him, knew the Dragon was closing with horrific speed.
It was recovering more quickly with each trauma but Connor knew it was dying-had-to-be-dying! It was exhausting the last of its enzyme banks – all that remained of its strength.
Connor passed the rows of oxygen tanks that he had hauled to the stretch of passageway and then he reached the opposing vault, quickly crawling beneath. Once he was on the far side he took a breath but the air was too poisoned even there for strength. Connor lay still for a moment, drawing ragged breaths and then he heard a spectacular collision and glared back to witness Leviathan lying as dead atop the fallen vault.
Oxygen pouring beneath the portal was stifling and thin.
The Dragon rose slowly. Stunned. Fatigued.
“Come on!” Connor bellowed. “Do it! Use your fire!”
Leviathan staggered to its feet. Its fangs hung distended, but not to terrorize. Connor thought it was having trouble drawing breath.
Laughing, Connor roared a primal challenge with a fury that joined the two of them, the war, the stand. Then with a dramatic scream Connor raised the M-79 as if he were about to fire and the Dragon reacted, lowered its scarred head. Its neck muscles tightened.
“HIT ME!” Connor screamed. “COME ON! HIT ME!”
Connor leaped desperately aside as the Dragon's fire extended.
Through pure oxygen.
Connor heard screaming and realized he was ...
ON FIRE!
He roared and rolled wildly through the mud and water-soaked calcite, beating violently and shoving his arm and leg across mud, smearing mud to put out the flames until he found himself smoldering and blackened ...
Burned and dying ... like the Dragon.
“Yeah,” Connor whispered, rising to his knees and forehead. “We'll both die ... Both of us ...”
Connor made it to his feet, snarling like an animal to endure the pain. He had never even heard the titanic blast created when the Dragon hurled flame through the oxygen but he had felt the erupting roar that tore a white path through the space beneath the vault.
Staggering, Connor saw that the vault still stood. It had somehow endured the terrific force of the oxygen. And a moment later Connor wondered if the beast wasn't dead before he felt or sensed the shadow approaching and then a bat-like foreleg exploded through the stone at the vault to—