by Todd McAulty
They were close—too close. Half of the squad was coming through the last door, but the other half was already hurtling down the corridor toward me. They were maybe seven seconds behind me, tops.
I dashed down the escalator, into the darkness of the pedestrian walkway. I tore off the mask the moment I reached the bottom, taking deep lungfuls of cool air. Another twenty seconds wearing that thing, and I was likely to pass out.
Another decision to make. Navigating the underground walkway without light would be hopeless. But a flashlight would give away my position in an instant. No chance of losing them down here if I was picking my way forward with a flashlight.
Run or hide?
Eighteen years ago, in a sweltering summer in Camp Borden, Sergeant Gunther had split us into teams and drilled us in what he called the lost art of the manhunt. “What I want to see out of you,” he’d told those of us selected as the runners, “is speed and audacity. Remember, gentlemen. In a footrace, speed beats stealth. Every damn time.”
I could hear footsteps above. They were almost at the top of the escalator. I flicked on my flashlight and ran east.
Things looked unfamiliar almost immediately. Damn it, did I turn the wrong way? No time to turn around if I did. I plunged ahead, hoping to spot some familiar landmarks.
There was shouting behind me. Voices in Spanish. Impossibly, two soldiers had reached the bottom of the escalator already. Van de Velde was ordering them to stay put, and they wanted to race into the darkness after me. I could hear the frustration in their voices, even if I couldn’t understand exactly what they were saying. But they obeyed, waiting for her to reach them and assess the situation.
The brief respite from the chase was what I needed to orient myself. I was going the right way. I recognized the peeling theater poster on the wall on my right, and the graffiti sprayed on the drop grate for the mobile equipment shop. I’d passed this way before. I just needed to—
The first gunshot startled the hell out of me, and I almost dropped my flashlight. It echoed mercilessly in the narrow corridor, and I heard the bullet hit the ceiling somewhere ahead of me.
Apparently, I had misinterpreted Van de Velde’s instructions. More soldiers were at the bottom of the escalator now. Some had lights, and they were shining my way. A young woman stood out front, rifle at her shoulder, and the instant after she fired she started shouting at me.
I was practically deafened by the gunshot blast and could barely hear a word she said. Her meaning was plain enough, though: that had been a warning shot. Surrender, jackass.
Instead, I plunged farther into the darkness. They can’t tell exactly where you are, I told myself. They can only see where you’re shining your flashlight.
There was another shot, almost immediately. I heard it hit far to my left. Another warning shot, or did she just have terrible aim?
I tripped on something. My arms pinwheeled and I almost did a face-plant on the tiled floor, but I managed to recover and kept running. I got my flashlight back up in time to see a kiosk looming out of the darkness ahead. I welcomed any bulletproof obstacle, veering around it and then ducking behind it, getting it between me and the shooter.
More shouting behind me. They were on the move. Light flashed on the wall to my left, and the ceiling above, as they probed the darkness.
Something appeared out of the shadows ahead. A metal fence, blocking my way. Thank God. I leaped toward it.
For several panicked seconds, I couldn’t find the break in the fence. More light was appearing all around me as I searched, as the flashlights quickly drew nearer. Finally, I seized the fence and yanked it to the left. A gap opened four feet to my right.
I darted through, taking a moment to pull the fence closed behind me. I groped, found both ends of the broken chain, and looped them together in a clumsy knot. It wouldn’t hold, but it was the best I could manage in a hurry.
The soldiers were here. The first one slammed up against the fence, making the whole thing shudder. The chain was yanked from my hands, but the knot held, keeping the fence together.
The soldier shouted something at me. Another one arrived a second later. This one had a light, and he flashed it up and down, trying to understand what they’d come up against.
I took several steps back and turned around, using my flashlight to get a quick mental snapshot of the path ahead.
Then I snapped off my light and took two quick steps to the left.
I was deep in the shadows by the time more soldiers arrived, bringing more light. None of the lights had found me yet, although several were probing the darkness, searching. Sticking to the shadows, I retreated down the corridor.
There were confused shouts behind me. The fence rattled violently. More shouts. Then Van de Velde’s voice cutting through the din, restoring order. They were trying to figure out the fence, find a way through. They would . . . and soon.
There was another motionless escalator leading up on my right. It looked like the one I’d explored half an hour ago. I kept moving forward.
I couldn’t find the door to the tunnel, where I’d left Stone Cloud. I knew it was close, but without my light, it was frustratingly elusive. I was perhaps eighty feet away from the fence by now, and the light from the soldiers—as they probed the corridor with their flashlights—was little help at this distance.
Van de Velde had control of her soldiers again. They had stopped shouting and rattling the fence. Most of their flashlights flicked off abruptly. They were up to something.
I stopped walking. Had I walked past the door? It was so dark I couldn’t tell. It had to be here somewhere.
I had to find it before they got through the fence. Getting through the door unseen was crucial. In the darkness they were almost certain to miss it, to keep searching farther down the corridor, as long as they didn’t see where I’d gone. This was my chance to lose them, but I had to do it without giving away my location.
Suddenly, there was more light. I glanced back at the soldiers.
They had lined up evenly on their side of the fence. At least seven had flashlights, and they were shining them straight ahead. A coordinated effort to find me. Smart.
I hit the deck.
I hugged the floor, listening. I couldn’t tell if they’d spotted me, but I didn’t think so. The lights continued to probe the dark corners. Up, down, searching everywhere.
The combat suit was an asset here. It was a dull whitish gray, not that much different from the tile. In the darkness, at that distance, perhaps I’d be easy to overlook.
There was a wheeled hot dog stand butting up against a shuttered shop on my left. The space between it and the wall was shielded from the probing flashlights. I crawled toward it.
This is a trap, I thought. If you’re cowering here while they figure out a way through the fence, they’ll find you for sure.
But I kept crawling. First order of business was to get out of the light. The—
A shot rang out, badly startling me. I froze, less than fifteen feet from the welcoming shadow of the cart.
My heart was racing. If they’d spotted me, I was a sitting duck. Were the soldiers drawing a bead on me right now?
Another shot. I heard this one hit the wall on the other side of the passageway.
I heard Van de Velde’s voice. Then a third shot. It went well over my head, hitting something far down the corridor.
They’re shooting blind, I thought. She has them firing into the dark, trying to panic me, get me to run. Just sit tight.
The fourth shot hit the floor not twenty feet away. A piece of clay tile slammed painfully into my left foot.
The hell with this, I thought.
I turned on my flashlight, playing it over the wall on my left.
“¡Ahí está!” I recognized Van de Velde’s voice, crying out in triumph. They’d seen me.
A second later my light fell on the open door, less than fifteen feet away. I was practically on top of it.
I rolled to my fee
t and jumped through the door.
More shouting behind me, and then more gunshots. Too late for them to hit me, but I ran in a crouch anyway. Here in the access corridor, away from prying eyes and rifle scopes, there was no reason to be shy with my light, and it guided me back west, toward a cobweb-choked stairway.
I glanced over my shoulder when I reached the top of the stairs. Still no light in the corridor behind me. Were they still stuck behind the fence?
Likely Van de Velde had wasted precious minutes looking for a lock. But it wouldn’t take them long to figure out it was held together with only a chain. I hurried down the stairs. The metal signs on the landing were gone. Stone Cloud must have harvested them as I’d said he could.
No sign of the robot himself, however. At a guess, I was perhaps ten minutes late for our meeting. Had he given up on me already? If so, did that mean I had forfeited his offer for safe passage back through the colony?
I heard the first sounds of pursuit in the passageway above and then saw flashlights. They had made it through the fence. They were no more than fifteen seconds behind me.
I reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped through into the coal tunnel.
Despite the sounds of pursuit behind me, I took a moment to flash my light left and right, looking for Stone Cloud. The tunnel was empty. To the left it stretched off into darkness, but to the right, at the extreme limit of my light, I could see stacks of bricks in the middle of the passage.
I jogged to the right. If I could get to the first intersection, where the tunnels branched off in multiple directions, there was a good chance I could lose them.
I was two-thirds of the way to the brick pile when the first soldiers spilled into the tunnel. They were excited and loud, shouting to each other, and the cacophony of their voices echoed down the tunnel.
I fought the sudden urge to switch off my light again. There were too many loose bricks, holes, and dirt piles, making the footing simply too treacherous to attempt without light. If they opened fire again, I would switch it off. But until then, the plan was to reach that first major intersection, as fast as possible.
They didn’t open fire. I heard Van de Velde’s voice and then the sounds of swift pursuit.
She was going to try to run me down in the tunnels. The race was on.
The next five hundred yards were easily the most nerve-racking. I moved as quickly as I dared, my flashlight fixed on the ground ten feet ahead, warning me of sudden pits and tripping hazards.
I must have passed the brick piles, but if so, I never saw them. Behind me I could hear the soldiers gaining. They ran with reckless speed, and I heard at least one or two pay a price for it. There were sudden yelps of pain and surprise as they went down, slamming hard into the floor, or crashed into other hazards. Perhaps they’d found the brick piles.
But the rest kept coming.
In the darkness of the confined tunnel, sound was a trickster. I heard running footsteps ahead—echoes of the soldiers behind me. Ragged breathing, getting closer. Closer. Closer, until it seemed only inches from my ear.
I kept running.
Suddenly the echoes were different. I raised the light to my left, expecting to see a wall. Instead I saw the long shaft of the Michigan Avenue coal tunnel, stretching north for countless miles.
I switched off my flashlight and dashed north, into the darkness.
There were confused shouts from behind immediately. I glanced over my shoulder, just before plunging into the north tunnel. I made out two flashlights. Two soldiers were perhaps sixty feet behind me—much farther than they’d sounded, but still too close for comfort.
I kept going. I pulled to the left, reaching out with my hand, groping for the left wall. The soldiers vanished from sight behind me as I progressed into the tunnel.
I kept my speed to a walk. My footsteps sounded ridiculously loud as I crunched grit and brick dust underfoot. I was out of breath, but I fought to keep my breathing slow and quiet.
Keep walking. Don’t stop for anything. Let the darkness and the echoes work against them for a change.
Behind me, two soldiers moved into the intersection. Their lights flashed quickly in all directions as they figured out what they’d found.
One illuminated me for a fraction of a second, before I could hit the deck. I was caught, frozen in the light, casting a long shadow into the tunnel ahead.
The light moved on. The timbre of the voices behind me didn’t change.
They didn’t see you, I thought, my heart hammering. Keep going. Keep moving.
I pressed on. The soldiers were shouting back to the rest of the troop. I heard a voice that might have been Van de Velde’s.
I knew what was coming. I dropped to the floor.
Light illuminated the passageway. The two soldiers were looking for me. More methodically this time, doubtless on shouted instructions from Van de Velde. I hugged the floor and made myself as small as possible. When one of the flashlights probed the left side of the corridor, I saw I was less than five feet from the west wall.
Light hit me a few times, but the soldiers were too far away to spot me on the uneven floor. Their lights lingered farther down the tunnel, on shadowy stacks that could be possible hiding places. Soon enough, they moved on to investigate another tunnel.
The temptation to stay right where I was, invisible, was very strong. There was a good chance they might move down one of the other branching tunnels.
But it wasn’t worth the risk. The moment the lights vanished, I stood up. I took two steps, reached the wall, and then pressed on.
I made it a good twenty yards or so before I heard Van de Velde arrive in the intersection with the last of the soldiers. She took charge instantly, turning them into an ordered group.
Soon the shouting behind me stopped. I glanced back. They were still at the intersection. Those few still using flashlights had them pointed at the floor. No one was moving.
What the hell are they doing?
I got my answer much sooner than I expected. My left foot came down hard on a stone or brick, and I lost balance briefly. The rock rolled to the left, striking the wall and bouncing twice before coming to a stop.
There was an exclamation from the soldiers, and shouted orders from Van de Velde.
They’re listening, I realized. Too late.
The tunnel flooded with light. Every one of the soldiers was shining their flashlight north.
They spotted me almost immediately. Believe me, I let loose with a string of curses then, covering my head with my arms and running.
But they didn’t open fire. Van de Velde ordered them after me again. This time, she had part of the squad hang back, illuminating the north tunnel with their flashlights, while the rest sprinted after me.
She’s smart, I thought. Too damn smart.
The soldiers were whooping with triumph as they took up the chase again. I could hear them behind me, their feet pounding the hard-packed floor of the tunnel. The tunnel was filled with twisting shadows as they raced ahead of the flashlights.
Come on, you bastards. You haven’t caught me yet.
At least I could see. All that light revealed that the tunnel ahead was badly ripped up. There were holes in the ground, mounds of earth and muddy bricks, shadowy shapes that might be stacks of rotting lumber. I ran toward them, determined to make the soldiers work for their victory.
The soldiers certainly didn’t mind the chase. They were exuberant, almost joyous, and supremely confident. I saw a shadow on my right abruptly drop as one of the pursuing soldiers tripped, falling hard to the earth. He bounced up with scarcely a hitch, back into the race.
I ducked behind the first big mound I reached, hoping to lose them. I was instantly trapped, blocked in by mounds of earth and brick on three sides. I jumped out again, back into the light, to shouted jeers from the soldiers.
I kept going. There was another dark lump on my right; I raced past it. Another lump just ahead on the left. If I could veer around it, get
out of the light—
The mound moved.
It rose up on steel legs, shifting its great bulk slightly to the left. A shower of earth erupted next to it.
It was the Orbit Pebble. It was in a hole, digging. I was almost eye level with it.
It stopped digging as I approached. It pivoted effortlessly, bringing its heavy front armament to bear. I saw it spin up its heavy-caliber autocannon.
If that thing fires in here, the sound alone will probably kill you, I thought.
I ceased running immediately, skidding to a stop with my hands in the air.
“It’s me,” I said stupidly.
The thing didn’t move. I saw a targeting sensor on its right shoulder twitch slightly, sharpening its focus on me.
I glanced over my left shoulder. The soldiers were closing rapidly. I had maybe nine seconds.
“We just met,” I said to the thing. “I’m—I’m looking for Stone Cloud. He was with me. You remember? I was—”
The great war machine shifted. It had lost interest. Its bulk seemed to shrink, and it returned its attention to digging.
I breathed a quick sigh of relief and started running again.
I moved past the robot, into a maze of mounds and fresh holes. There was little light here, and what there was bounced around overhead crazily.
I can lose them here, I realized, as I slid behind the first heaping pile of earth. The Pebble would give the soldiers something to think about while—
No, it won’t. It’ll kill them. All of them.
I stopped running.
I turned around. From my vantage behind by the low pile of earth, I could still see the soldiers, lit from behind by flashlights. They were nothing more than dancing shadows and echoes, but they were close, and racing closer. They were spread out in loose formation across the width of the tunnel. Behind them was a second line, marching forward in a disciplined rank, holding the flashlights. Van de Velde’s doing.
The Pebble would slaughter them.
You don’t know that, I thought. Maybe they won’t even see it. It’s in a hole, for God’s sake. Why are you even standing here? You should be running.