Thrilled to Death

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Thrilled to Death Page 127

by James Byron Huggins


  You’re out, something told him, but Connor couldn’t stop, continued shouting and waving the barrel for a full three seconds before he could gain even a dim shadow of control. Then, grimacing against the heat and smoke, he ripped out the rifle clip.

  It took Connor a shocked moment, staring vividly at the empty magazine held right in front of his eyes, before he could recognize the fact that he was out of ammo. Breathless, fighting to calm himself, Connor raised his face to glare at the flames.

  “Hold it!” he shouted, falling against a wall. With a curse Barley fired another grenade, the explosion all but lost in the roaring volcano at the tunnel entrance. The heat wave that swept over them scorched Connor’s face.

  “Hold it, Barley!” Connor screamed.

  Barley paused, his weapon smoking. Breathing hard, sweating, the lieutenant shoved in another APG but didn’t fire, keeping a cold aim as solidly as a statue. His chest was heaving.

  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, air, red air.

  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.

  “I’m okay,” Connor said gently, nodding.

  She said nothing.

  “I’m okay,” he repeated, smiling faintly. “It was close.”

  A moment, and she asked, “Did you kill it?”

  He shook his head, and they held each other a long time. Connor could hear Barley giving Chesterton a cold play-by-play while Thor knelt on the bridge, somber, staring back.

  “We cannot outrun it,” the Norseman said, and they turned to him. “But this is a good place to make a stand.” He paused a long time. “Connor, do you think that you can rig up an electrical blast that will knock the Dragon into the gorge?”

  Connor studied the situation. “If I can get some power from the breaker, then I can wire the walkway.”

  “That won’t work,” Frank offered. “That’s what you did in the Matrix. It’s going to be looking for that.”

  A pause, and Connor slowly nodded his head. “All right.

  Well, I think I can set something else up. But I’ll need to get to work. I don’t know how much time we’ve got.”

  “Good,” Thor said, standing. “Then the gorge might do the work for us. If we can knock it from the bridge, the fall might kill it.”

  From the depths of Tungsten Passage a fiendish, victorious roar trembled the walls, crawling from the stones to congeal beneath their feet. It was the sound of unnatural pleasure, bestial cruelty.

  Angrily Chesterton shook his head. “I’m really, really getting tired of that thing. I think we need to put it in the ground and drive a stake through its heart.”

  Thor stared darkly at the bridge.

  “Here, it can die,” he growled.

  Frank gazed numbly at him. “It’s not going to die, Thor. Leviathan is never going to die. Nothing on
Earth can kill it.”

  Frowning, Thor gazed down on the scientist.

  “Only God is more than man,” he rumbled.

  Frank stared a moment, as if the thought shocked him. “Yeah ...” he said finally. “I know what you’re thinking, Thor. But Leviathan is like God. There’s never been anything like it. And there never will be. Leviathan was never meant to exist.”

  “Only God is more than man,” Thor said coldly, turning his head to stare at the bridge again. “If man can die, then the Dragon can die as well.”

  Dr. Hoffman felt cold stone at his hands and turned toward the awesome, eternal dark surrounding him. Red lights gleamed in the distance, haunting and threatening. He knew that he was as lost as he would ever be. Screams echoed hideously through nearby tunnels, silence following. And Hoffman knew that it was coming, yes, coming. Just as surely as it had always been coming since he was a child, waiting in the dark and listening. Imagining it beside him.

  Waiting.

  Waiting these long, long years.

  Dr. Hoffman bent his head as he heard the claws clicking, scales sliding on stone. He looked up to see the darkness thickening, there, there. And he gathered his heart, his life, nodding his head as wispy white hairs fell over his face.

  “So,” he whispered, “you have come.”

  It made no sound, poised so close.

  Dr. Hoffman felt the warmth, knew the fangs were distended, slavering. He nodded his old head, remembering all that he had done. But he would do no more, no. Would give it no more. And he felt his fear fading at the thought.

  His heart was all that he owned, and all he had ever owned; his life, his dignity. “No,” he said, gazing up at the beast. “You will frighten me no more. All these years I have feared you. But now I take your victory from you: I do not fear you.”

  Death filled the dark.

  He closed his eyes.

  ***

  Thor growled in pain, massaging his shoulder.

  It was sore and stiff from his fall, but no bones were broken. Teeth clenched against the effort, he tried to loosen the swollen tendons. As Connor finished rigging Bridgestone with an electrical current, he gazed about to see how effortlessly Leviathan had destroyed the vault leading to the bridge. There was nothing but shattered steel, slashed titanium.

  An ancient passage recorded in the book of Job came to Thor’s mind, a dark and forbidding passage: Behold Leviathan ... The greatest of all My creations ... On Earth, it has no equal ... A creature without fear ...

  Thor frowned, his gaze descending dark and somber and sad. He believed in his heart that the words were true, and then he remembered something more, something which strangely lifted his heart: And yet, can you make Leviathan beg for mercy as the Lord Almighty can? Can you draw Leviathan from the waters, as the Lord Almighty can, to play with him as a child plays with a bird? ... Yes! Behold Leviathan and know the strength of the Lord ... Know that all that is under heaven is Mine …

  Thor felt his head reflexively bend in prayer as his hand closed on the haft of the battle-ax. His hoarse voice was a whisper so that none surrounding him could hear his fear.

  “Yes, my King, I know Leviathan cannot make the Lord tremble. Nor can Leviathan stretch out its matchless arm to bring down the Most High. So I ask you, my God – I beg you! ... Give my arm strength to draw this Dragon’s blood! Show this beast that is only of the Earth that it will terrify no more!”

  Thor’s head was deeply bowed as a single tear fell, and his hand tightened on the ancient battle-ax.

  Placing all his life there, in his prayer.

  ***

  Chesterton sat against a wall, gray and weary. In the faint red light the colonel’s face seemed exhausted to the point of death. He had finished his canteen but it didn’t seem to refresh him. He was as pale afterwards as he had been before.

  Beth cradled Jordan, stroking back his hair. His tiny face was sweating, and she placed a hand on his forehead. Her eyes were intent, her mouth tight and grim. And, grimacing with compassion, Thor came into the entrance, gazing down, watching.

  “He’s so tired,” Beth whispered after a moment. “I’m really worried.”

  “Has he a fever?” Thor asked quietly.

  “No.” She shook her head. “He doesn’t have a fever. Not yet. But if this keeps up he’s going to get sick. And this is a real bad place to be sick. It’s too humid.”

  Her face grew pained and injured.

  “This will not last much longer,” Thor said gently.

  She looked up. Her silence was wounding.

  “You have my promise, Beth,” Thor intoned. “You and Connor and Jordan are family to me. You are the only family that I have on the earth. And with the Lord God Almighty as my witness, I swear that I will not disappoint you.”

  Beth blinked. “But nothing can stop that thing, Thor. It’s like ... like Satan or something. I don’t think that anything can stop it.”

  Thor gazed solemnly upon her.

  “Even Satan has been stopped,” he said. And then he smiled once more, his bright green eyes gleaming with hope. Beth knew she would be forever grateful for this moment of hope and strength, but she could find nothing to say. Gently she looked down, stroked Jordan’s wet hair.

  Dragging his steps, Connor came slowly back into the tunnel. He moved with deep, painful exhaustion, and his face seemed even more haggard, dark with sweat. He fell wearily to one knee beside her, smiling faintly. She returned the smile, tears on her face.

  Thor rose. “I will keep watch beside the lieutenant. He is a brave man – a strong man. But he is weary. Like all of us.” Then lifting the battle-ax and the M-79, he was gone.

  Connor embraced Beth, kissing her lightly on the forehead. As they separated she was gazing up at him with tear-stained eyes. Her voice was so quiet he could hardly hear it.

  “We’re dying, Connor,” she whispered. “Piece by piece ... we’re dying down here.”

  Connor’s breath caught in his chest. He tried to say something encouraging, heard a low moan escape. He stiffened with an aroused anger and shook his head. “We’re not dead yet, Beth.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  He hesitated, glanced toward the bridge. “We’re going to try and knock it into the gorge. And if that doesn’t kill it, it’ll slow it down. Then we’ll make a quick run for the elevator. If we can get to the elevator through the ventilation shaft, I can get the lift down here. Then we’re out. That thing is too big to go up the shaft. And Barley thinks we can make it to a Huey and get airborne before Leviathan hits the lake to escape into the ocean.”

  “This has got to end, Connor,” she said, looking down. “Jordan can’t stay down here much longer.”

  “I know.”

  She gazed at him a long time. “I just want to say that I love you, Connor,” she whispered. “I always have. I always will. And no matter what happens, I want you to know that I’ve always believed in you. Nobody could have done more than you’ve done in this.” She smiled sadly. “In good times and in bad, just like you promised.”

  Connor felt an emotion, deep and overcoming. His hand was on her face, touching. And suddenly his pain and fatigue and fear were as nothing. There was nothing else within him, nothing but this. He felt a low moan escape him as he bent.

  “Beth, I think I know how to stop this thing,” he said, with a final strength. “I think I know how to put this thing in the ground. And I want you to know that if I don’t make it out of here . . . that I did exactly what I wanted to do. And I want you to know I only did it all because of the love I have for you and Jordan.”

  Beth’s eyes glistened. “What are you going to do?”

  “Just remember.”

  She bowed her head and they knelt together, in silence. And then Connor kissed her eyes, her forehead. He held her for a long moment before he separat
ed and stood, turning slowly away, walking toward Chesterton.

  But Connor’s expression changed quickly and brutally and cruelly as he approached. And when he finally reached the colonel, all gentleness and all emotion were utterly gone from his face.

  Connor extended his hand, palm upward.

  “Give me that rifle,” he said.

  Chesterton blinked, handed over the rifle.

  Angrily Connor snapped the bolt to rack a round into the chamber of the M-203. He slammed open the chute and shoved in an antipersonnel grenade. Then he snapped it shut and shoved three more grenades in his pockets. Two extra ammo clips went into his belt, at the small of his back. Without another word he walked toward the bridge.

  “Hey, Connor,” Chesterton called.

  Cold as death, Connor turned back.

  “I don’t think bullets can hurt it,” Chesterton mumbled.

  Connor was expressionless. “I figured that much, Chesterton. This is just to give it a little incentive.”

  “To do what?”

  “To come after me.”

  Chesterton stared. “And then?”

  Connor’s face went hard with hate.

  “And then I’m gonna fry its brain.”

  Chapter 23

  “We’re almost ready for it,” Connor said coldly.

  He’d finished running the 100,000-volt line to the steel walkway that crossed Bridgestone. Connor had wanted to use more, but 100,000 volts was all he’d been able to pull from the vault door, and he feared that it wouldn’t be enough to finish the fight.

  But he had been cunning. He had used ten steel cables, stringing them across the narrow width of the bridge at a distance too great for even Leviathan to leap across. The strands were raised five feet above the ground and anchored securely to ceramic brackets on dry granite posts, leaving a twenty-foot gap between each of them. And only the seventh cable was wired to the current. The rest were for diversion.

  Connor was betting that the beast would approach cautiously because the cables would appear suspicious. It was accustomed now to being injured by these thin, narrow lines. So it would do some kind of test, consequently discovering that the first several cables were harmless. Then, hopefully, it would proceed forward until it hit the seventh cable and the 100,000-volt current hit it back, blasting it into the gorge. It was a desperate plan, Connor knew. But it was all they had.

 

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