by Shawn Davis
Rayne glanced down as he passed the air duct he slid down before. The smashed grate was still lying next to the duct opening.
Obviously, there’s no way I can ascend the air duct. I have to continue down the tunnel and try to find a way out through the Powerdrome. The Powerdrome technicians should have the problems in the facility sorted out. The last things I want to see are rampaging robots. I can take off my scrubs before I ascend and emerge as just another injured, frazzled tourist who has barely survived the Powerdrome’s robots. I can always say I was knocked out for a while and just regained consciousness.
“Hey!” a metallic voice suddenly shouted from down the hall.
Looking ahead, Rayne’s heart sank as he spotted the familiar blue armor of a Shock Trooper approaching from the far end of the corridor. He ducked as gunfire exploded on the wall near his head. Tiny pieces of metal shrapnel stung his scalp. He dropped to the floor and rolled onto his stomach. The Trooper was closing on him, firing. Deafening metallic thunder resounded through the confines of the maintenance tunnel as the Trooper shot a barrage of bullets over his head. Something brushed against his hair and he realized it was a bullet whizzing by.
An unnatural calm took over Rayne’s mind. A simple idea dominated his thoughts; if this is going to be the end, then I’m going down fighting.
Reaching under his scrub pants for his stolen automatic pistol, Rayne pulled it out of the holster. He almost panicked for a moment when the handle of the gun got caught on the elastic waistband of his pants. Gritting his teeth, he calmly maneuvered the weapon past it. The bullets stopped as he watched the Trooper standing some distance down the corridor reloading his weapon.
Perfect.
Rayne took careful aim and squeezed the trigger. A blinding white light exploded from the Trooper’s chest as an explosive bullet struck his armor. The Trooper fell back hard.
Grunting with pain, Rayne stood up. He set his teeth into a snarl and hobbled down the corridor as fast as he could. The pain in his ankle was very bad now and he was getting dizzy from it.
Focusing on the gray metal door at the end of the corridor, Rayne tenaciously hobbled several hundred feet until he reached it. He swiped his hand across the ubiquitous scanner, the door rushed open, and he entered a control room. He cut through the control room and passed through an open doorway.
Rayne stepped onto a high catwalk that overlooked a colossal generator room. He crossed the catwalk and descended a steep stairwell. Reaching the floor, he walked alongside the generator and searched for an opening that might bring him to the other side. The rumbling of the generator reminded him of a growling dinosaur.
Rayne found a dark maintenance passage under the generator. He ducked, entered, and found the only lights in the area were blinking on small control panels. The rumbling was loud in the narrow subterranean corridor, but it distracted him from the pain in his ankle.
Soon, he emerged into a spacious area and spotted a row of white metal doors on the back wall. He hobbled toward them and ran his hand across the scanner when he reached the first door. It was an elevator. He entered and pressed the button for the top floor, hoping it would bring him as far away as possible.
The elevator ascended and opened to a long metal corridor. Stepping out, Rayne limped for several hundred feet until he reached another door with the ever-present wrist scanner next to it. He swiped his hand through the scanner and the door rushed open.
Chapter 23
Showdown
Rayne entered an immense chamber that was two stories tall and five hundred feet long and wide. It was set up like NASA’s mission control center with rows of computer control panels lined up in long, consecutive aisles. Each aisle had its own separate view-screens built into the panels.
On the far right of the chamber was a movie theatre-sized viewing screen showing a split-screen view of eight prehistoric world attractions. On the screens, Peter saw various dinosaurs moving around jungle environments. The place was built with stadium-type seating, similar to a movie theatre, which gave everyone a view of the large screen in the front. The control panel aisles lifted steadily from right to left until they reached a high walkway in the back looking down on the rest of the chamber.
He estimated that at least fifty people were operating the center. So far, no one had noticed his quiet entrance.
Looking across the control room, Rayne saw a glowing red emergency exit sign in the center of the back wall. Unfortunately, there was a Shock Trooper standing guard under it. The Trooper stood in a casual position, leaning against the wall with his rifle slung over his shoulder.
He’s definitely not ready for me.
Rayne calmly descended a set of stairs to the middle aisle of the control center. He walked down the center aisle between two control panels, pretending he belonged there and wasn’t wearing disheveled medical technician’s clothing. So far, no one had looked up from the computers or view-screens. The technicians sat at their posts like drones, mechanically typing on keyboards or pressing buttons. Peter walked right past them.
Lowering his weapon to his side, Rayne approached the casual Trooper. The Trooper didn’t even notice him because he was staring at an attractive female tech working in the second aisle. When he turned his helmeted head toward Rayne, it was too late. Rayne got into a shooting stance and took aim at the Trooper’s head. He pulled the trigger and watched the helmet’s black faceplate blow apart into shattered, bloody fragments.
He never knew what hit him.
The Trooper’s body dropped heavily to the floor in an armored pile. At this point, most of the technicians had taken an intense interest in Rayne’s handiwork. He saw a group of them staring at him with wide eyes. Turning away, he ascended a few short steps to the emergency exit. Thankfully, there was no wrist scanner at this door. Pushing it open, he walked through. He stepped onto a high metal catwalk surrounded by a low railing.
I must be at the back of the ‘drome because I’m surrounded by open fields.
A colossal black steel wall loomed ominously beyond the fields. The lighted buildings of New Washington towered into the night sky beyond the wall. Rayne was just happy to be outside. The fresh air felt soothing on his face. He clutched the railing and enjoyed the balmy night air. He gazed across the wide green fields at the tall black wall of New Washington looming like a massive fortress in the distance.
All the big power plays are made behind that wall.
Glancing to the right, he saw the catwalk ended fifty feet away in a steep stairwell leading down.
That’s where I need to go.
Rayne hesitated for a moment when he heard the sound of muffled voices beneath him. He approached the stairwell. Looking down, he felt as if he had been thrown into a cryogenic freeze. A virtual army of Shock Troopers was ascending in a long, single-file line and more were waiting on the ground below to join them.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that someone found one of the Troopers’ bodies and sounded the alarm. All the Powerdrome’s exits are being converged on by Park Security. I’m trapped!
Peter stood frozen for a moment as he watched the line of armored Troopers ascend the stairwell. He listened to the heavy sound of boots clanking on metal. The Troopers were almost halfway up and still had another fifty feet to go. He assumed they didn’t see him yet because they hadn’t started firing.
That’s my cue to act.
Rayne felt as if he was moving in a dream. He slowly and methodically dropped the spent magazine from his pistol and clicked in a new one from his belt. He took aim at the foremost Trooper on the stairwell and squeezed the trigger. Metallic thunder blasted out as white sparks flashed from the nozzle of his weapon. He fired a barrage of explosive rounds down the stairwell, striking the Troopers at the vanguard. The rounds exploded in brilliant flashes of light on the Troopers’ armor, throwing them violently backwards. They fell heavily onto the Troopers behind them, causing a massive domino effect on the steep stairwell.
/> Rayne watched as the single-file line of Troopers was knocked over like ten pins in a bowling alley.
After firing a few last shots into the fallen Troopers’ bodies, he turned and limped quickly down the catwalk. He re-entered the control room and ascended the stairs toward the topmost walkway.
It’s always better to have the high ground. I can pick them off one-by-one as they come through the door.
Rayne shoved a frightened tech out of his way as he ascended the stairs. He reached the topmost control panel, turned into the aisle, and positioned himself like a sniper behind the console. He focused the barrel of his gun at the emergency exit.
Suddenly, he felt a strong sense of déjà vu. A gentle breeze was blowing over his shoulder. Turning around, he felt elated when he discovered an air duct sending fresh air into the control room. This particular duct had latches on the side, so he flipped them and opened the grill. Glancing over his shoulder, he still didn’t see anyone coming through the emergency exit. He held his gun in front of him as he plunged into the duct.
Rayne’s past experiences in the air ducts allowed him to scramble forward quite rapidly. He hoped it would take a while for the Troopers to figure out where he had gone, and by then he would be in another part of the complex. Bumping his head into a metal wall, he realized he had reached an intersection.
Peter followed the air current to the right. Reaching another intersection, he felt a powerful rush of air striking his back. The air duct traveled directly up and straight ahead. He felt for ladder rungs in the wall of the vertical duct and didn’t find any.
Crawling forward, Rayne spotted a bright light ahead. He went with the air flow until he reached the source; it was the grill of yet another air duct opening. Rayne smashed it several times with the butt of his gun until it came loose. He pushed it out, poked his head out, and looked around.
Rayne was stunned by what he saw. He was hundreds of feet in the air looking down on a winding river flowing far below. Beyond the river was a thick, impenetrable jungle. The river wound its way through the jungle like an endless, glittering snake.
I hope that water is deep.
Rayne concentrated on retaining a strong grip on his automatic pistol as he pushed himself out of the duct. The pistol was his only defense. He didn’t want to lose it when he plunged into the water. Gripping the handle with both hands, he dangled in the empty air for a moment before plunging downward.
Peter experienced a brief falling sensation until he landed on something hard, round, and smooth - similar to the hood of a car. He pressed his palms onto the cold, hard, metal surface.
I expected to fall a lot farther and strike water.
Rayne couldn’t figure out what he could have possibly landed on. All he knew was he still had a good view of the prehistoric river. The holographic technology above him projected a flawless rendering of a wide blue sky dominated by a bright mid-day sun. The contrast of seeing the real night sky outside the Powerdrome and this realistic pseudo-day sky threw his sense of time and place out of joint. The air duct above him even provided a realistic breeze.
Suddenly, Rayne felt the object beneath him move. He swung around 90 degrees until he was staring at another section of the jungle. His stomach lurched as he dropped at a rapid rate. The unknown perch he landed on was moving downward toward a cluster of green treetops. He hovered directly above them and a strange crunching sound followed. Rayne didn’t want to move too much because the metal surface of the object was smooth and he didn’t want to slip. Looking down at the brown metal, he saw it was elaborately painted into a complex pattern of palm-sized ovals.
What did I land on?
Peter stared out across the green forest roof and the crunching sound continued. He pushed down on the surface and tucked his legs under him, moving into a sitting position.
This way, I can at least look around.
Shifting his position, he was puzzled by what he saw when he looked down. A thin, brown metal slide extended downward a hundred feet until it reached a large brown hill floating in the water. A long, thin whip-like object lifted above the surface of the water behind the hill, hovering in the air like an octopus tentacle.
Rayne’s view changed as his perch began moving again. He swung around, descending toward the water. He was surprised when he spotted a long square passenger boat, filled with tourists, floating below him on the river. His strange perch lowered next to the boat and hovered in the air slightly above it.
“Look, mommy! There’s a man on the dinosaur’s head!” a high-pitched voice shrieked from the boat.
Looking down, Rayne saw an eight-year child jumping up and down, pointing at him. The little tyke was standing between a man and a woman, presumably his parents, who stood staring, wide-eyed, at him.
“George! What’s that man doing there!” the woman shouted.
The man continued to stare without replying. Other passengers on the boat turned to see what the commotion was about.
“What the hell’s going on?” Rayne exclaimed as his perch lowered several feet until he was staring face-to-face with the boat’s passengers.
“Mommy! I heard the caveman swear!” the eight year old observed, pointing at Rayne as if he had spotted a UFO. “I thought cavemen couldn’t talk! I thought they only grunted!”
Rayne felt like a rare animal in a zoo as he stared back at the baffled tourists for what seemed like hours. Finally, his perch lifted into the air again. It ascended rapidly until the boat appeared small in the water below him. From this new height, the tourists’ voices sounded muffled and far away as if they were coming from another world. Looking down, he tried to estimate where the air duct was. He searched for it in all directions but saw only blue sky.
The wall has completely disappeared - camouflaged by the holographic technology. It’s been replaced by sky, clouds, and trees.
Rayne’s stomach lurched again as he swung around another 90 degrees until he was level with the treetops again. The crunching sound resumed.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out I landed on a dinosaur head; presumably a large herbivore like a brontosaurus. The head must have been swinging under the duct when I jumped out. It seems like a good place to lay low for a while. At this elevation, I’m out of sight to those below.
Rayne used his high vantage point to try to get a layout of his surroundings.
Where do I go from here? I can’t stay on this brontosaur’s head forever.
Rayne’s stomach went into his throat again as the dinosaur head swung around, descending fast. Looking down, he saw another tourist boat approaching. He quickly found himself staring at another shocked group of tourists shouting and pointing at him. He was starting to get used to being a spectacle and paid them no mind, searching the landscape instead for any Shock Troopers.
I hope the head lifts again so the tourists don’t give me away.
The sudden thundering of automatic gunfire and exploding bullets made Rayne realize it was already too late. Glancing right, he saw a squad of Shock Troopers standing on the opposite riverbank, firing at him.
Bullets exploded and ricocheted around him. Rayne ducked and lied flat on his stomach, taking aim at the distant Troopers. He fired toward the riverbank. He hit one of them, watching him tumble into the river. The others took cover behind trees, continuing a barrage of fire. A line of bullets ricocheted across the top of the dinosaur’s metal skull in front of him. He felt a piece of shrapnel sting his forehead above his left eye.
This is it. I’m all done.
Rayne felt another sharp lurch as the dinosaur head ascended. Bullets exploded on its lower jaw and neck. Looking down, he saw the Troopers as tiny figures on the shore below. They continued to fire at him, but without effect. Bullets continued to strike the dinosaur’s lower jaw or whizz by above him, but none of them came close. He was too far for them to get a clear shot. However, he still had a problem.
According to the dinosaur’s pre-programmed motions, I have about a minu
te before I’m lowered beside another tour boat.
Dropping a spent magazine from his pistol, Rayne tossed it over the side of the massive robot’s head. Clicking in a fresh magazine, he considered his options.
Rayne leaned over the side, looking down at the brilliant flashes of white light exploding from the guns of the tiny figures on the jungle shore below. Occasionally, he heard a bullet whiz past him or impact on the robot’s lower jaw. Aiming his pistol over the side, he fired back at the little figures. He was too far away to tell if he was hitting anything or not, but he proceeded to empty his entire magazine toward the shore, as an incentive for the Troopers to retreat. It didn’t work. They ducked behind tree trunks and continued to fire intermittently at him.
Rayne estimated the dinosaur head would begin its descent at any moment. Dropping out the spent magazine, he replaced it with a fresh one as he felt the head lowering toward the next tour boat. The lower he got, the more bullets struck the metal sides of the brontosaur head or whizzed past him. Wiping some blood from his left eye, he concentrated the barrel of his pistol on the Troopers on the far shore. Taking careful aim, he fired as he descended. He didn’t hit anything, but the Troopers were becoming more cautious, emerging only sporadically from behind the trees to fire at him. He quickly found himself level with the next tour boat.
The passengers screamed hysterically as they ducked behind the boat’s guardrails. Rayne heard a line of bullets ricocheting across the top of the dinosaur’s head, a mere six inches from his right shoulder. Tiny pieces of shrapnel stung his shoulder.
Suddenly, Rayne heard a loud rushing sound and saw a rocket launching toward him from the shore. He ducked and felt wind blow his hair as the rocket-propelled grenade rushed over him. A split second later, he heard a loud rumbling explode from the jungle behind him.