Tiny splashing sounds came from his left.
He turned, horrified to see another pair of silverbugs moving swiftly through the shallows toward him. Their round bodies, while heavy, were apparently airtight. The silverbugs floated like bobbers while their legs moved stiff and steady like oars on a slave galleon.
Angus pushed off the wall, holding the flotation device to his chest as he back-kicked into the current. The silverbugs followed, moving with surprising swiftness through the water. Angus kicked harder, the silverbugs closed in like slow-motion piranha. Finally they turned back, just as the river's strong current began to pull at him and drag him away, out of the ship.
The rest of the ship whizzed by, blurred by water splashing up from barely submerged chunks of hull. The dimness of the canyon-like breach suddenly gave way to the full blinding light of the artificial suns. Angus kicked desperately, fighting for the far shore. He fought against the tugging current and soon waded into the shallows, exhausted, drained, but smiling with success. On the far side of the ship the sparkling platinum dust was so thick it was like mud — his feet sank in up to his ankles as he victoriously walked out of the water.
There it was. Clear as day the entrance to the Linus Highway sat invitingly only twenty yards from where he stood. He tossed the flotation device aside and stumbled forward.
Almost home — only a little climb now stood between him and the likelihood of a massive rescue team. Angus Kool sprinted to the Linus Highway and ascended, headed for the surface.
The Marco/Polo unit beeped softly. The green, illuminated display's black letters clearly spelled the approach of an EarthCore employee.
Angus Kool.
Fifty yards away.
Kayla smiled.
Angus heard movement up ahead. He stopped, frozen like a terrified rabbit. He listened for the rustling of dead leaves, but heard none. Nor did he hear the click-click of silverbug feet. He'd left the party far behind, so who could be in front of him?
A rescue party.
A woman's voice called out. “Doctor Kool? Doctor Kool, are you there?"
"I'm here!"
The woman's footsteps came faster, closer.
"Hold on, Doctor,” the woman's voice called. “I'm coming for you."
Seconds later the light of her headlamp filled the tunnel. She strode into view, a nasty-looking machine gun held in front of her.
Web gear covered a yellow EarthCore KoolSuit smeared with dirt and soot. Dirty blond hair spilled out from beneath an EarthCore mining helmet. A pair of night-vision goggles hung around her neck.
"Doctor Kool, are you all right?"
"Yes, I'm fine,” Angus said. Rescuers — he felt immensely relieved. He was going to make it out after all. “Who are you?"
"EarthCore sent me,” the woman said with a smile. “We're here to get you all out. Where are the others?"
"The rocktopi killed them. We have to get out of here right away.” Angus didn't care if his lie was soon discovered, as long as he made it to the surface before O'Doyle came hopping up the Linus Highway.
"Rocktopi? You mean those tentacled monsters?"
Angus nodded impatiently. “Yes, and there's more back there, now let's go."
"Hold on,” Kayla said, yanking on his arm to keep him from running up the tunnel. “I'm here to get everyone out. Don't you want to get the others?"
"Are you fucking deaf?” Angus said. He needed to get out. He could almost feel O'Doyle lumbering up the tunnel toward him. “I said they are dead. Now you obviously know who I am and my position with EarthCore, so I am ordering you to take me to the surface right now!"
Kayla cocked her head slightly to the side, irritation clear on her face.
She was so fast Angus never saw the butt end of the Galil before it smashed into his mouth, knocking his left incisor across the tunnel floor, fracturing his cheekbone, and dropping him unconscious to the ground.
The party prepared to tackle the river, hoping to take it through the ship to the Linus Highway waiting beyond. Lybrand's condition grew steadily worse. Connell watched O'Doyle — the big man still looked like death warmed over, but he called forth some reserve of strength and took charge.
Randy's pack bore a flotation device identical to Angus's. O'Doyle pulled the tab and lashed the swelling floater to Lybrand's chest, just under her chin, so she'd stay afloat even if she passed out. When he finished, O'Doyle tied everyone together with long pieces of rope.
"What if I get tangled up in this?” Veronica asked, her voice thick with tension as she stared at the monstrous river.
"That's a chance we have to take,” O'Doyle said. “The water's rough and we don't have much time. If you're not tied, and you can't get to the bank after we pass through the ship, the river will carry you away and we'll have no way of going after you."
Veronica nodded glumly. Connell couldn't blame her. He didn't much like the idea of a nylon rope around his chest while fighting that demonic, black river. They had plenty of slack, about twenty feet between each person.
The big man gave instructions, pointing to the rough map Mack once used to guide them through the tunnels. Angus's magic computer map was either with the cowardly little genius or clutched in the dead hands of Randy, somewhere deep inside the ship. Either way, they weren't getting it back.
"The river takes a sharp bend in the middle of the ship,” he said. “We'll stay on the near side in the shallows until we get there, then when we come off the bend we'll start kicking hard for the far shore."
The sound of a hundred simultaneous screeches tore at the air like the battle-cry of a demon army. All heads snapped toward the distant fissure. Even from far off, they could make out a wave of rocktopi, a flashing blitzkrieg of alien anger chewing up the distance at a frightful pace. The rocktopi charged with singleminded abandon. Light from their flashing bodies looked dim under the artificial suns’ glare, but the meaning of the murderous oranges and reds was all too evident.
The party erupted in rushed activity as hands raced to tie off ropes. Connell stuffed the scrambler into his waterproof beltpack. He cinched the knot around his chest and stepped out into the shallows, looking with trepidation at the river's billowing current.
O'Doyle quickly checked the rope holding the floatation device on Lybrand's chest, then pulled her into the water.
They were tied in a chain, Connell to Veronica, Veronica to Lybrand, Lybrand to O'Doyle and O'Doyle to Sanji. Veronica splashed into the water, panic etched on her face as the rocktopi closed to within a hundred yards. Their screeching filled the air, fighting for auditory dominance against the river's ceaseless growl and the steady plinking of current-driven rocks smashing against the ancient platinum hull.
Some of the rocktopi stopped and scooped at the ground. Heavy, thunking splashes plunked on the river's surface as the limestone aerial assault began.
Sanji cinched off his rope and dashed for the river. O'Doyle and the others swam out toward the current, feeling it pull and suck at their bodies. Sanji's feet splashed through the shallows.
He almost made it.
A lucky, arcing shot caught him: a softball-sized rock slammed into the side of his head. He teetered like a wobbling bowling pin, then fell face-first into the river with a heavy splash.
The rocktopi warriors, more than two hundred strong, moved to within sixty yards.
"Sanji!” Veronica screamed. She fought the current's edge, swimming toward him. Connell stopped her, pulling back until the current took them both. The rope went taught, Connell and Veronica's weight pulling Lybrand's floating body further into the water. The three of them dangled like dead branches at a river's edge, the swift water kicking up about their faces. Rock peppered the surface as the sprinting rocktopi closed to within fifty yards.