She stayed leaning over the rail long enough to watch the white animal-looking thing hit the concrete at the bottom of the room, bursting into a thick oozing fluid that splattered the machinery all around it.
Good.
Then, as she shot her eyes back to robot-woman, she saw what had impeded her path. Three more of the bastards on the stairs, and now one crouched on the railing at the top, level with the woman, who stood stock-still. All three of them had their strange external eyes swiveled down to take in the sight of their fallen comrade. Then as one, they swiveled their eyes up to look at Queen.
Time to go.
She turned and sprinted for the door down the catwalk that led to the tunnel and the older, abandoned part of the lab. She could hear the claws scraping and skittering along the metal walkway behind her as she flung the door open and pitched herself into the darkness of the tunnel. Her headlamp was gone. She had no time to be careful. She just ran, remembering as she went the long brick tunnel and the secret room at the end.
But this tunnel brought back her memory of the other. She bashed her fist against the ceiling a few times, as she ran. It was so low that she could easily reach it, even though the walls were far apart. She felt the dust cascade down on her in the dark, but she didn’t know if it would be enough to slow the creatures. She couldn’t hear them behind her, but she knew they made it into the tunnel before the outer door swung closed, removing even a trace of light. Finally, she found a brick that was loose. She halted in the dark and took a step back, reaching her fingers up to find it again. She played her fingertips over the rough stone and the fractured mortar until she felt the wobble. Then she banged on it again, with the bottom of her fist. It lurched under her strike. She worked her fingers into the crack and tried to pry it out, but it wouldn’t come loose. It was like a marble inside someone’s hand-it spun freely, but wouldn’t come out of the grip.
In the dark behind her, she heard a scratching noise. Crap, she thought. Break the hand. She struck the ceiling again with her fist, and then again. She punched up at the stones and pounded them with the bottom of her fist. She heard one of the surrounding bricks crack and then she heard something else sliding in the dark behind her.
Something close.
She hit the brick above her again and felt something in her own hand break. It wasn’t the first time she had broken a bone in her hand. Probably the 5 ^th metacarpal. Boxer’s fracture. She recognized the sensation, but the urgency in her mind made her shut the pain out. She hit the ceiling again and the stones surrounding her target brick crumbled, raining debris down in the stygian tunnel. Now she attempted to pry the brick again, and it came loose in her broken hand. She swapped the insulated wire for the brick and now used her good hand to smash it into the ceiling and the gaping wound she had created by prying out the brick. She could feel more dirt cascading down around her wrist.
Then she got an idea and moved her body to the other side of the tiny spray of falling dirt. She wrapped the wire around her torso in the dark, and shoved the brick fragment between her knees. She then reached up and dug the fingers of both hands into the soil beyond the brick ceiling. When she had a good grip, she hung from the bricks and used her weight to swing forward. She kicked out in the dark and two things happened. The first was unexpected, but the second was just what she was hoping for.
Her feet connected with something solid before she had the chance to extend her legs fully. She had planted her feet on the chest of one of the creatures. She wasted no time in tugging hard with her upper body strength. Several of the bricks gave way under her weight, pulling a section of the ceiling down on top of the beast and onto her legs. The tunnel filled with choking dust, but she had been expecting it and held her breath.
With nothing to cling to anymore, she fell to the floor with the shattered ceiling. She quickly scrambled backward on her ass, shoving with her feet and clawing back with her hands. She lost her brick weapon, but there were plenty to choose from now. She checked and found the insulated wire still hanging from her waist. She wrapped it around her broken hand. Then she grabbed the first piece of rubble she could find-half a brick-with the other hand and raced deeper into the darkness of the tunnel.
As she ran, she got angrier at the creatures behind her in the dusty darkness. She took breaths as she ran and tasted dirt in the air, but it was nothing like the cloud of dust from the ceiling collapse. She kept one hand in front of her and waited for the impact with the secret spinning wall. It was farther down the tunnel than she remembered it, but when she hit it, she felt it move smoothly on its axis.
The room on the other side of the spinning wall was as dark as the tunnel, but she remembered the way well enough. She found the door and turned left, heading across the small room toward the first tunnel-the one that led her up and out. She got angrier at the thought of leaving Rook and the Russian woman behind her. But she knew she couldn’t fight the white creatures here in the dark, and they had been between her and the rest of the lab, back on the catwalk. She reached the tunnel just as she heard a door slam open behind her.
Crap, they’re close.
She used her fragment of rubble to smash along the wall as she made her way down the original tunnel to the metal ladder, sending small waves of sand and grit through the air in the dark behind her. She felt the dirt pelting the skin on her face as she ran. She misjudged the distance down this tunnel too, slamming her face into the metal of the ladder in the darkness. She reeled from the impact, dropping her brick fragment. She caught herself from falling backward by grabbing the ladder rung with her broken hand. A fresh wave of pain shot up her arm. She grunted, but most of the pain was drowned out by her rising fury.
Holding tightly to the insulated wire, she grabbed the rungs above her in the dark and climbed the ladder. When she reached the top, she forced her weight behind the flipping door that wore the fake bush like a feather-capped Royal attending Prince Harry’s wedding. It was heavy, but it closed quickly.
She launched herself out and into a newly fallen snowdrift. Snow poured down from the sky in tiny jagged clumps-not quite sleet, but not quite snow.
Queen rolled away from the hatch and into the snow, relishing the weather. The sun had gone down, but the moon must have been up somewhere. She couldn’t see it, but light was trapped between the two-foot layer of fresh snow on the ground and the low-lying clouds above her head. It reflected back and forth off the two surfaces making everything nearly as bright as day. She had seen a similar effect before, on a skiing trip in Flagstaff.
She couldn’t have asked for a better battleground.
She knew she should probably run. Get help. Call in the cavalry. But that could take hours. Maybe longer. If something happened to Rook…
Queen shook her head. Not an option.
“C’mon, you see-through assholes. I’m waiting,” she whispered, clutching the rubber-coated wire.
FORTY-TWO
Midtown, New York, NY
Deep Blue pulled the trigger on the confetti launcher as soon as the elevator doors parted. Instantly the hallway was a riot of white, pink, and pastel greens and blues, as shredded paper filled the air with a loud popping noise. The effect was surreal. Everything that had been moving a second earlier-King and the five dire wolves-just stopped as if turned to stone.