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"I'd hate to see Big Bertha," Matt muttered.

"Fahn shot, Lyle," Lewis said. "Ah guess they's hope fer ya yet. Frank, les git these here sausages in place an' mak us a hole." He turned to Matt. "We're gonna use de-lay detinaters ta blow this here thang so's it elapses from the bottom up. If'n we do it rot, a space oughta 'pear et the top. If'n we miss, it had best be on the sod a too little rather'n too much. If'n we don' git no hole the first torn, we got enuff Vibrogel ta try it again. Mebbe twice more."

"Hurry," Matt said, in spite of himself.

"Wha on earth 'uld we e'er want ta tak our torn?" Lewis replied. "Ah mean, t'ain't lak we're workin' with hah explosives er nothin'."

"Sorry."

"Ah thank Ah'm ready," Frank said, looping the det cord around his elbow before he ascended the wall.

"Ready for what, pervert?"

Bill Grimes, his service revolver leveled at the four of them, stepped into the cave from the tunnel, followed immediately by Vinny Sutcher, still in black, who casually panned the group with a submachine gun. Last to step into view, his gun also at the ready, was the thin man Matt had outwitted at Shady Lake Manor Estates.

"See, Vinny," Grimes said. "I told you it was worthwhile having you and Verne hang around for a day checking the entrances to this place. This here doctor is as slippery as an eel."

"What an imaginative metaphor," Matt said, noticing how incredibly calm Lewis Slocumb and his brothers appeared at that moment. He had no way of knowing for certain, but he felt some sort of information was being silently exchanged among them.

Grimes may have sensed the same thing. His expression darkened, and his heavy pistol steadied on Lewis.

"Step away from that stuff, Slocumb. Your brother, too," he said. "Vinny, get around there and move that shit away."

Sutcher shouldered his weapon, circled around to the base of the head-wall, and eyed the pile of Gel-Paks suspiciously.

"Ya'd best not e'en fart near thet stuff," Lewis said, mimicking an explosion with his hands. "Ka-boom."

Frank, who was about ten feet to Lewis's right, and Lyle, who was on one knee about fifteen feet behind him, both snickered.

"So," Grimes said, turning his attention to Matt, "I must conclude from your presence here that you are not the only one who managed to survive that devastating accident."

"They've all escaped except the guards you double-crossed," Matt replied, sensing he needed to stall. "We're digging those two out because they both swore to kill you if they ever saw you again. What are you, Grimes, some sort of major stockholder in the company that makes Lasaject? Is that what's going on?"

Surprise flashed across the policeman's face, then just as quickly vanished.

"Oh, yes," he said. "Mrs. Kroft. Well, if you must know, I have a proprietary interest in the company, yes."

"Do you know how many people — how many children — will die if that vaccine of yours gets into general use?"

"There's no proof that's so."

"Spare me. Those people you tried to kill in there are proof, and you know it. That's why you did this to them. Well, Grimes, they've escaped just like me. They're headed to Washington right now, along with Ellen Kroft and Nikki. You're finished."

Matt saw uncertainty in the man's eyes.

"I don't believe you," Grimes said. "We'll deal with the problems in there as soon as we've dealt with the problems right here. Verne, pat each one of them down, beginning with that one back there. Then get them together over in that corner. Then the good doctor and I need to have a little chat. If any of them give you any crap, shoot 'em in the knee. We'll save the other knee and the balls for later."

"Don't ferget ta check me fer rocket launchers," Lyle said, choking himself on a laugh.

Despite the obvious advantage his side held in terms of weapons and age, Verne approached Lyle cautiously.

"Stand up," he ordered.

"Cain't," Lyle said. "Ma laig's broke."

"If he doesn't do as you tell him to, just kill him," Grimes said. "He's not going to hurt you, Verne. He's a fucking old man and you have the gun."

"Yeah," Lyle said, "Ah'm a fuckin' old man."

He smiled toothlessly and shifted his weight as if he was going to stand.

At that instant, there was a scraping sound from high on the head-wall. All seven of those below turned to the noise. Ellen, a gaunt, dusty apparition, was standing straight up, twenty feet directly above Vinny Sutcher. The broad, flat rock she was holding over her head looked as big as her chest. At the moment Grimes spun and fired at her, she hurled the rock with all her strength, straight down at Sutcher. With his head tilted back, the heavy missile caught him flush in the face, producing the sickening sound of a pumpkin dropped onto pavement from a second story. Instantly limp, blood spattered across his face, Sutcher crumpled backward onto the stony floor.

The seconds that followed were a blur to Matt. He was still fumbling for the gun in his pocket when all three Slocumb brothers produced pistols, seemingly out of thin air. Instantly, the cavern sounded like a Chinese New Year. Gunshots seemed to be coming from everywhere. But the only muzzle flashes Matt saw came from the Slocumbs. Grimes was instantly hit in the chest, neck, and face. His eyes wide with disbelief, he danced sideways like a giant marionette, arms flapping, legs disjointed. Then he crumpled as if his strings had been sliced, held a sitting position for a single beat, and toppled lifelessly onto the dust. Verne caught bullets in his throat, mouth, and the center of his forehead, and was dead before he hit the floor.

Matt raced over to the head-wall. Above him, Ellen was down, but he could see that she was moving.

"Ellen?"

"I'm okay," she called back. "I slipped when I threw the rock. My pride's going to hurt when I sit, but otherwise I'm not hurt badly."

"Is Nikki all right?"

"She's back there with the others. It's slow going with her ankle. I think it's broken."

"Is there enough air in there?"

"There is now, thanks to whoever created that hole."

Ellen began making her way down to where Matt waited. Vinny Sutcher lay at his feet, deeply unconscious, breathing shallowly and intermittently. His broad pancake face was a pulpy mass, his eyes obscured beneath twin pools of blood. His head was cocked at a sharp angle, leading Matt to suspect that his neck had been fractured. Ellen moved in beside him, her jaw tightly set, her eyes fixed on the horrific damage she had wrought. Then, without a word, she bent down and, with great effort, picked up the rock again and leveled it over Sutcher's face.

"Ellen, don't," Matt urged. "It's over. Trust me, it's over."

Tears glistened through the dust on Ellen's cheeks. Her arms were shaking from the effort of holding the rock. Sobbing, she turned and dropped it to the floor, where it split in two. Matt put his arms around her and held her. A few seconds later, Sutcher took a single, shuddering gasp, and stopped breathing forever.

Matt led Ellen over to where Frank was once again arranging the Gel-Paks, and introduced the two.

"I'm going in to see Nikki," he said.

Ellen pointed to his watch. "Matt, listen. That first shot of Omnivax is going to be given to that baby in a little over three hours. As soon as it is, other kids all over the country are going to start getting it. We've got to stop them."

"Is there someone we can call?"

"This is the biggest campaign stunt of this election. I don't know anyone in a position to rein in the First Lady at this point. Do you?"

"No. We could try calling in a bomb threat."

"I hate that idea, but I suppose we could try it if we absolutely had to. I can see us accomplishing nothing except to give them more publicity and land us in serious hot water."

"If they go ahead with the shot, how many kids do you think will be vaccinated by the end of the day?"