Leviathan(99)
Recovering his breath, Connor peered through the flames, searching. He could see nothing in the tunnel but white fire consuming everything, even the limestone floor, the calcite, and gypsum. The tunnel mouth had been almost completely sealed by molten rock. There was hell, there. And a dark wind howled over them, sucked into the inferno from the bowels of the cavern as the holocaust created its own wind.
A moment more of cautious searching and Connor knew that the beast was not in the flames. Just as he knew they hadn't killed it. Leviathan had retreated, somehow, beneath the force of the explosions and the disorienting trauma of the electrical blast.
Connor knew without doubt that if Leviathan had been at full strength, it would have charged through the blasts. But it had been wounded, and wounded badly, by the exploding power cylinder. He understood at last how a powerful electrical trauma, if he could only lock it down long enough, could hurt the beast. Or even kill it.
“Come on!” Connor yelled, barely able to hear over the ringing in his ears. “That thing has retreated! It's got to feed! It's going for easier prey!”
Connor realized that he should feel compassion for those who remained behind. But he was too weary and wounded to feel anything at all. He bowed his head, taking a deep breath, feeling the shallow wounds on his chest. The thin slashes burned, but the bleeding was already beginning to stop. In an hour he wouldn't even notice them.
“Can we reach the elevator shaft?'' Thor shouted at him. He also seemed temporarily deafened by the violence of the conflict.
Sharply Connor shook his head. “No! It's still between us and the exit! We can't risk it! We're gonna have to kill it before we do something like that!”
With a hate-filled grimace, Thor laid the smoking M-79 on his shoulder.
“Then we will kill it,” he said.
***
“Boogety boogety ...”
Death, death back there.
Dragon, Dragon, big Dragon ...
“Boogety boogety ...”
Colonel Blake held the M-16 close to his chest and moved through the darkness. Something had knocked the power out again but it didn't matter because he knew he was safe in the dark because the dark was his friend, his friend, the dark was a soldier's friend ...
Back against the wall he slid down the hall, sweating, sweating now, hair sweating, teeth sweating, hair sweating because he was sweating and there was something out there but he had the M-16, the M-16, a soldier's friend, a friend ...
“Heh heh,” Blake whispered. “Boogety boogety ...
Like a machine!”
Red lights, red lights in the air, red, red light.
Darkness.
Army's like a machine! A machine!
“Can't break down like a machine,” Blake whispered, stopping in place at something, something. He turned his head slowly and wondered who he was and what he was doing here in dark big dark.
He stood listening.
Stillness, stillness.
“Army's like a machine,” he whispered, so quiet, hands sweating, gun sweating cold sweating. “Like a machine, like a machine ...”
Shuffling, shuffling somewhere out there.
Red? ... Darkness?
Shuffling, sliding.
Moving, darkness moving.
Someone was screaming ...
“Like a MACHINE!” The M-16 fired into the air to white light and something there in the white-strobe face?
Scales?
Blake stared into the darkness.
Scales?
Had he seen scales?
“Red light like a MACHINE!” Blake screamed, firing the M-16 again to the blinding roar and clattering of shells and unfamiliar invisible smell gone so long, so long gone ...
Blake stared wide-eyed into the darkness.
He took a deep breath.
No. Silence, silence there; silence was no good because it wasn't his friend. Scare 'em, scare 'em, that's ...
The gun blazed again in his hands, shells clattering.
“HAWOOGAAAAAAAAAAH!”
He stared, stared.
“Yes sir! Army's like a MACHINE!!! The machine breaks down WE break down! We got to ... got to ... HAWOOOOOOGAAAAAAAAH!!!”
Sweating now, eyes, teeth sweating, and ... black???
Black rising, rising ... beside him!
“HAWOOOGAAAIIIIIEEEEEE!!!”
Screaming he was screaming with white gunfire at the face so close DRAGON FACE beside him WHITE teeth opening…opening beside him GAPING and –
* * *
Connor was the first over Bridgestone to see a nervous Chesterton poised on the other side, his rifle upraised.
“Chesterton! Don't shoot! It's us!” Connor called out, unsure how well the weary colonel could see through the gloom. Then Connor saw Beth step out from behind the corner, still holding Jordan. Frank was beside her, face white, exhausted.
Crossing the bridge slowly, Connor embraced Beth and Jordan, holding together and tight for a moment. Beth's hand touched his chest and she gazed up hard. Quick. Her eyes glistened.