Leviathan(95)
Connor whirled as Beth screamed wildly.
Towering, gigantic and terrifying, the Dragon stood in the entrance of the Climbing Cave. Recovering from fright, Connor looked more closely and saw that it was already fully healed, appearing as powerful as it had ever been. The green-black armor plating was intact, fully restored. Even its foreleg was long and smooth and straight, poised with deadly grace close to its chest. In the gloomy atmosphere of the cavern, Leviathan seemed like a galactic force of nature, as equal to God as anything would ever be.
Thor stepped to the side, his chest expanding angrily. The battle-ax lifted in his hand. “Jormungand,” he rumbled.
Accustomed now to the horrifying sight, Chesterton placed a firm hand on Barley’s shoulder. “Wait a second, Barley!” he whispered. “Wait until it comes into the cavern. Get a clear shot!”
Leviathan's serpentine neck swung the wedged head left and then right, watching Blake and the panicked members of Frank's science team run blindly toward opposite ends of the cavern. Clearly shattered, Blake snatched up a fallen M-16 and fired at the monstrosity, screaming incoherently, and then he was gone into an opposite doorway, still screaming. Leviathan ignored the wild shots, seeming to understand that Blake could do him no harm. And from the ventilation shaft beside the exit vault, Connor suddenly heard other screams, as if Tolvanos and his science team had somehow become aware of the beast's arrival. Apparently they were hurrying to lower the elevator.
Leviathan leaped into the cavern, a hundred feet at the meager effort. It completely ignored the scurrying scientists of Frank's team that cowered in the corners or found futile and mindless refuge behind equipment. But Connor saw that Barley had coolly tracked the beast's movement, calmly keeping the LAW centered. The man's hand tensed.
“Hold on!” Chesterton said, clutching Barley's shoulder. “Wait until you can hit it dead-center.”
Crouching in front of the ventilation shaft beside the elevator, Leviathan stared intently down the opening. And even before Connor could anticipate what the Dragon was about to do, it unleashed a hellish stream of fire into the narrow port, fire that Connor knew was flooding into the elevator shaft itself to kill everyone who had crawled into the passageway—Tolvanos, Adler, and the science team.
Chesterton screamed, “Hit it!”
Connor hadn't anticipated the force of the rocket. Even the back-blast of the LAW, a thick bolt of flame that erupted from the rear of the weapon, tore a plate of steel from the corridor. And then a thunderous explosion, like a miniature nuclear blast, knocked Leviathan airborne across the cavern.
Flung violently back by the concussion of the LAW, the beast demolished a steel beam and struck back instantly, whipping its tail for balance, always fighting, fighting. As it skidded to a colossal, grinding halt beside a limestone wall it roared and rose, on fire.
“Let's move!” Chesterton bellowed and turned, and Connor was behind him, carrying Jordan. Beth and Frank followed with Thor again bringing up the rear. Then inexpressible screams of human suffering immediately filled the Climbing Cavern as Leviathan turned on everyone trapped within its demonic reach.
Moving fast toward Bridgestone, Connor hugged Jordan hard in his arms and tried to cover his son's ears.
Hoped he couldn't understand the screams.
* * *
Darkness stood on cold stone.
Human blood flowed against the thermal sensors of its serpentine, ageless eyes. And something old ... old, so old rose within it to shadow the death, the death. And it knew that it had won again. It had destroyed those that it lived to destroy.
It scanned everything—the yellow-green heat of the torn bodies, red no longer; the faint handprints on the wall, boots against the cavern floor. Heat tracks of escaping humans. But they could not escape.
No, nothing could escape, just as they had never been able to escape. Already, it had eaten to reconstitute. But the weapon ... the weapon had damaged it. Yes, had damaged it. And it needed to reconstitute. It must feed, feed, always feed.
Death, a shadow, passed over the beast ...
HUNT!
Fangs unhinging, Leviathan swung its serpentine head.
Yesssss ...
It must hunt, hunt, hunt ...
There were still more humans hiding in the cavern. It could read their heat tracks against the cold floor; saw where their hands had touched the walls, the faint impressions of residual body warmth where they had fled in fear.
Night shifted, congealing ...
HUNT! HUNT! HUNT!
A growl escaped its fangs and it knew that it must hunt them down; yes, must hunt them down. Hunt down the one who had injured it, the one who had used the fire. And it would kill him, would torture him and then kill him. And then the rest would die. And then it would escape.