Thrilled to Death

by James Byron Huggins

  “Come on!” he screamed. “Show me what you can take!”

  Leviathan shrieked and twisted, squirming to its back. Its claws lashed out to strike the titanium, and it bellowed, pushing down with the forelegs to crawl from beneath the crushing weight. Connor estimated that he had less than three minutes and then he was running, his mind racing ahead of him.

  Ten seconds, twenty ...

  A reptilian roar thundered like a storm-blast along the walls, and Connor knew the beast was quickly scrambling free. Surging with fear, Connor slung the M-79 across his back and ran with all his strength, ignoring torn muscles and infinite, infinite pain that was coming hard now, despite the drugs.

  Connor made two hundred yards in thirty seconds, saw the fifty-yard section of flooded tunnel looming up before him glistening with red light and he dove, smoothly slicing the water. When he surfaced he was halfway across, rising to a bestial roar. Then he heard a titanic crash and knew Leviathan had followed him into the water, fearless now, closing.

  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—

  Connor shouted as the claws struck him across the chest, blasting a red path through flesh and rib to turn him away with the vicious velocity of the impact. Then Connor hit the ground hard, feeling dirt on his face, his eyes black with dust.

  Blood everywhere.

  Connor moaned, rolled, trying to gain his feet but he knew that he was hurt this time, something permanently taken from him. He pressed a dark red hand across his chest as he staggered up, weak and numb.

  With a vengeful scream the Dragon jerked its foreleg through the gaping hole. A second later the foreleg was slammed through the top of the vault, ravaging the brackets, preparing to defeat the barrier. Connor watched for a stunned second before he turned and ran, weary, weary now and losing whatever strength had been fired within him as he heard himself calling out to someone, his son his son and he was making promises, won’t let you down, boy, I’ll never let you down, not ever ...

  Connor moaned and fell from fatigue. Blood beneath him, over him. He groaned and looked up to see ...

  Jordan in front of him …

  Hand raised to the sky ...

  I’ll always be with you...

  “Jordan,” Connor whispered, “I won’t let you down boy. I won’t ... I won’t let you down...”

  A demonic roar thundered up the tunnel.

  “Come on!” Connor cried out. “Come-on-don’t-let-this-thing-beat-you-don’t-let-it-BEAT YOU!”

  Connor roared in blinding pain as he reached the half-ton truck, still parked at the entrance of the power plant. He glared wildly as he climbed into the cab to see the generator mounted on the back and still running. He slammed it into gear and gunned it and then the truck was roaring down the passage on a collision course with the beast. The grill lashed to the front was charged with 25,000 volts. Twenty gallons of gasoline were roped to the hood.

  Defiant, Connor screamed as the Dragon charged and some suicidal will almost held him in the cab unt
il the last second but then something primal because that was all there was drove him out and Connor found himself sprawling across the rocks and dust with pain in his face and eyes as a wild and hoarse noise roared away from him ...

  Broken ...

  Bloody, dying ...

  Connor cried out, staggering to his feet, running.

  The Dragon collided with the truck and Connor whirled against his will to see the electric bolts thrown from the grill racing over the beast and then the truck exploded in a mushrooming, smothering firestorm that became white air.

  Connor didn’t know what he was doing in the holocaust until he saw the power plant entrance approaching ...

  Running!

  I’m still running!

  “Thank God,” he moaned. “Thank you ... Thank you, God ...”

  Leviathan roared and Connor heard a crashing, rending attack, somehow realizing that the unstoppable beast was ravaging the truck, relentlessly tearing its hell-born path up the passageway.

  Always, always coming had always been coming.

  At the thought Connor met something else inside himself, a rage to defy, to defy even to death and he drove himself forward on wooden legs. He was dazed and numb and dying as he came down on each stumbling stride, pushing himself mercilessly toward the entrance of the power plant.

  And his last hope.

  Chapter 40

  Connor staggered blindly into the power plant, finally gaining the door in gore and pain and rage, his shirt burned from his body and his body black with wounds.

  “Get cover!” he screamed, tearing the M-79 from his back. “Barley! Get ready! It’s coooooming!”

  High on the dais Connor heard a terrified scream and glanced up to see Beth and Jordan. And somehow the image brought back to life what had been destroyed by his pain and wounds and fear. Connor’s face tightened, eyes tearing. He spun to glare down the tunnel, seeing in the distance the demonic beast.

  Leviathan focused on him, growling.

  Connor snarled, lowering his head. Then he glanced up to see the severed sections of the Norwegian power line, poised above his own head. The bare copper coils, each one as thick as his leg, were bright with a billion volts of power. He focused again on the beast.

  “Come on! Come on let’s finish this!”

  Leviathan leaped violently forward, landing well into the tunnel and charging. Connor screamed at Barley.

  “Three seconds!”

  “Bring it on!” Barley shouted, raising the LAW. Connor didn’t turn back but he knew the beast was coming, coming, always coming.

  He staggered forward, falling ...

  A black roar rushed over him, hot and hating.

  Ablaze beyond all feeling Connor instinctively spun to see a black monstrosity hurtling up the tunnel, all caution forgotten and he fired the grenade launcher from the hip, turning into the thrust with a yell.

  Exploding in a mushrooming white blast the grenade hit high, phosphorus blazing off the ceiling of the corridor to hit the beast in a firestorm. A twin concussion, something Connor didn’t understand and didn’t try to understand rocked the entire cavern and he fell back, yelling incoherently at the echoing shock wave that thundered across them, the entire cavern alive with the trauma of the conflict.

  In a breath he had staggered up, somehow clutching the grenade launcher. He heard Barley shouting, sensed the big black man running forward, still holding the LAW.

  Leviathan came over them, blazing in flame.

  With a roar it charged into the cavern, in their midst almost before Connor could react. The Dragon hit the power plant in a rush, blasting forward in a haze of black that was over Connor in a thunderstorm of fangs and claws. Then Connor heard Barley’s shout and dropped as the air shattered with the colossal concussion of the LAW.

  Connor sensed something black and bestial roaring over his head, sailing aflame through the air. And in a daze he saw Leviathan’s monstrous head whirl to lock savagely on something and then its long foreleg had lashed out wildly toward ... Jordan!

  Yet the devil-claws missed the child to strike a maze of cables and the gazebo was torn violently from the ceiling, Jordan and Beth screaming together as it descended with a rending crash to the floor.

  “NO!” Connor screamed.

  A wounded roar struck the opposite wall of the power plant far behind them but Connor didn’t turn to it, had all but forgotten the Dragon as he gained his feet, running forward. He saw Beth pitch forward, unconscious but still holding Jordan tight and secure in her arms and with a terrible cry Connor leaped over shattered steel to catch them in his arms.

  “Beth,’ he gasped, crying out, on his knees. “Oh, Beth ...”

  He cradled his wife gently in his arms and hugged Jordan close. And then by some primal survival instinct he turned his head to see Leviathan on the opposite end of the cavern, on fire from the impact of the LAW.

  Ravaged, the beast was galactically enraged.

  Hell on earth, it rose raging.

  Barley was running to the middle of the cavern, waving. “Frank!” he screamed. “Get ‘em out of here! Forget the plan! Forget the plan! I’m gonna blow this place and bury this thing! Get out of here! All of you get out of here!”

  Leviathan screamed and lashed out, shattering a support beam.

  Faintly Connor leaned forward, clutching Beth and Jordan close in his arms. It was a single moment of bright, shining hope in utter blackness, a moment of holding his wife and son close as a pure hell-born beast of unstoppable strength rose before them, gathering itself to kill them, to kill them all.

  “Beth,” Connor gasped. “Come on, darlin’ ... Come on, baby ... We’ve got to ... We’ve got to get out of here ...”

  Beth pitched forward, blood on her shoulder. Connor cried out, holding her closer. “Oh, Beth ...”

  And then Frank was there, yes, Frank.

  The scientist bent quickly over her, taking her firmly and gently from Connor’s arms. And Connor leaned back, staring in shock and tears, kneeling as he held Jordan tight.

  As calm and blessed as a surgeon, Frank touched Beth’s neck, his hands so calm and confident, so gentle. Then he did something sensitive and caring and touching that Connor didn’t understand before he reached under the railing to lift Beth effortlessly in his arms, turning.

  “She’s alive, Connor!” he gasped, his eyes bright and loving. “Come on, buddy! We’ve got to get out of here! Barley’s going to—”

  “Look out!” Barley screamed, and Connor whirled.

  It was too late.

  Leviathan lashed out, smashing its tail against the far end of the gazebo and together they were sailing through the air, struck by the near end of the railing and Connor lost it all in the roaring madness, charging all his soul to hold Jordan close. Then he struck a steel girder with a mind-shattering collision, and he was spinning to fall to the ground with his son slung far from him.

  Connor landed screaming, reaching for his son and not knowing where he had gone even as he heard the reptilian roar and somehow in his mind saw the Dragon rising above them, so close.

  “Jordan!” he screamed.

  And then he saw Jordan.

  So close!

  The child cried out in pain.

  Leviathan stood high on its hind feet, glaring, savoring the moment. It took its time to strike terror and remorse and whatever else could be struck in the hearts of its victims. And Connor knew with finality that this was far, far more than a beast.

  It would be the end of the world.

  If it could be.

  Then Barley was before it, in its teeth, screaming and firing up with a continuous stream from his blazing M-16 that Leviathan all but ignored until it suddenly glared down, irritated, fangs parting. It swiped out with a contemptuous foreleg and Connor saw the lieutenant blasted wildly to the side.

>   Barley was hurled incredibly high and hard across the cavern to smash into a broken stand of girders, spinning off the heap to crash with bone-shattering force.

  Connor cried out, hurt by the sight. But almost instantly, incredibly, Barley was on his feet again and Connor wasn’t even surprised. The lieutenant rose, staggering forward, always always back into the fight but Connor understood somehow that not even Barley, as much a man as he was, could stand after that – not after that. Barley took two staggering steps, screaming in rage and drawing a pistol to fire a full clip, firing until he fell heavily onto his face, deathly silent in a silence that reached fully across the cavern.

  Connor moaned, bowing his head.

  Leviathan stared, unconcerned, until Barley collapsed. Then it swung its ravaged serpentine head toward Connor, and Connor somehow felt the impact of the Dragon’s unearthly hate. With a horrified shout Connor surged forward, trying to gain his feet. But he couldn’t move.

  Shocked, Connor glared down to see that he was pinned solidly to the ground by a steel girder. And fired by desperation, Connor cursed and tried to scramble out, shredding his legs on the steel. But his bones were held solid. And with a wild cry he searched for a weapon, saw the M-79 close.

  In a breath Connor snatched the weapon up and cracked the breech, tearing-out the spent round. He fumbled frantically through Jordan’s hysterical screams for the remaining grenade.

  Couldn’t find it.

  It was gone ...

  Connor’s hands scrambled over all he could reach.

  Leviathan roared, stepping closer. And then Connor saw the grenade on the floor. It was lying cleanly on the cement, in clear view ... between Jordan and Leviathan.

  Leviathan’s next shriek propelled Jordan hard into Connor’s arms and Connor dropped the M-79 as he caught his son. The four-year-old was terrified and hysterical and Connor frantically took a moment to hold him close and closer. Then he pushed his son back, glaring with a father’s dying, desperate love.