The woman King didn’t know hung back, firing her weapon at any target that stood still long enough for her to see it. She’s a pretty good shot, whoever she is. Deep Blue and the others took positions around the room, a few lying down, a few standing and others kneeling like Queen.
One of the White security members set up a tripod, and Reggie loaded an M2 with its chain-fed. 50 caliber death. The gun overpowered the sound of all the other weapons in the room. The metallic booming of the M2 sent the oversized bullets across the room, ripping into the dire wolf hordes as they emerged.
Blood sprayed.
Limbs severed.
Rook ducked to the floor near the man dealing death with the big machine gun. He picked up a rifle from a pile near the man. It was an M-16-the standard US infantry rifle-but this one had the M203 grenade launcher attachment on the underside of its barrel. “Fuckin-A!”
Rook targeted a huge metal strut that supported the portal. It had a section that had lots of electrical cables and more than the normal amount of the metal receptor plates that ran up its length. The 40 mm grenade shot out of the launcher tube and arced through the room, smashing into the concrete base of the metal upright, just as Rook fired another grenade at a second upright.
The first metal arm sheared off completely and fell inward, swallowed by the glowing ball of light. The other strut’s base exploded into fragments and the strut fell backward. Each explosion dwarfed the M2’s din and filled the air with a ball of orange flame and a column of dark smoke. The detonations startled everyone and the shooting paused, as the metal support struts collapsed. Even the dire wolves paused and cocked their alien heads, looking upward at the damage.
“I told you I’d break that fucker.” Rook said. “I-”
The sphere of energy, no longer fully contained by the metal cage, bulged suddenly forward and upward, like a water balloon that had been squeezed hard on one side. When it hit the ceiling of the massive lab room, it ate right through, as though it had encountered nothing but more air. The front portion of the roof collapsed toward the team. Great chunks of stone and strips of steel crumbled from the ceiling, now open to the sky.
Rook watched the debris falling toward them. “Aww, shit.”
SIXTY-FOUR
Somewhere
Knight brushed his arms, attempting to dust some of the midnight blue grime off his body after the long climb. Or is it orange? He and Bishop perceived this world differently, but maybe neither of them saw it right.
Bishop motioned to the suitcase nuke hanging from Knight’s back. “Where did you find it?” He was walking along the cliff’s edge toward the distant pinnacle of rock that they had agreed was their only logical destination. Knight walked alongside the big man, but away from the cliff’s edge. It had taken him hours to climb the thing and he had no desire to slip and fall off it.
“In a crater. There are craters all around. From the portals.”
“Yep. Seen ‘em.”
“Debris from Earth surrounds most of them, like a pie crust.” Knight said, pointing out to the multitude of craters they could see in the distance.
Bishop stopped walking and peered out at the collection of divots on the distant plain.
“Too far to tell,” Bishop said.
“Trust me; I’ve visited a few. I found the nuke beside one of them.”
“Seems like a lot of people had the same idea.” Bishop resumed walking along the cliff’s edge.
Knight stayed where he was and waited. Eventually, Bishop noticed Knight wasn’t walking with him and turned, a question about to form on his lips. But he saw Knight’s face, with one eyebrow raised that said Really? Think about it.
“Wait,” Bishop said, the idea formulating in his head. “That’s the nuke King and Deep Blue were supposed to place in New York?”
Knight nodded, and unslung the pack, reaching into a pocket on the exterior of the canvas sack.
“How do you know it’s theirs?” Bishop asked.
Knight produced a small iPhone from the pack and handed it to Bishop. It showed a picture of Fiona smiling on the wallpaper.
Bishop glanced at it and looked at Knight with a serious face. “Did you try this thing?”
Knight’s face lost all color. He looked down at the iPhone’s reception-no bars. Of course, there are no bars. I’m in another dimension. He realized he must have checked the reception on the thing a hundred times, even though he couldn’t remember actually doing it. Then he realized that the battery should have died ages ago, but it strangely showed two bars left on the power meter.
Knight took the device back and dropped it in the pack, shaking his head and continuing onward. “No reception.” Bishop followed him and said nothing.
They walked along the edge of the cliff for hours. Most of the time, they walked in silence. They saw no dire wolves, but after an hour, they found a crater at the top of the cliff. It was so close to the edge that they had to go around it. The circumference was only eighty feet-small compared to some of the portals they had seen, but it had a single piece of debris at its edge.
It was the front half of a police Ford Crown Victoria. The portal had sawed the vehicle in half just behind its light bar. The front windshield had been smashed in and the driver’s side door was wide open. Seeing nothing of value, they walked around the vehicle, and crater, and continued on their way.
The distant pinnacle of rock on the horizon grew larger as they trudged toward it, but it felt like an illusion to Knight, like approaching the Rocky Mountains — they keep getting bigger, but they’re still so far away. An hour after the Crown Vic, they saw another crater further away from the cliff edge to their right.
“This one must be immense,” Bishop commented.
Knight could only tell that it looked like an enormous junkyard that stretched for miles. Ragged corners of buildings were interspersed with vehicles and wreckage of every kind.
“I’m thinking we check around for a functioning set of wheels. Looks like a long way to that rock tower.” Knight changed course and made for the crater’s edge.
“Survivors?” Bishop asked.
“I’ve never seen any,” Knight told him. “Seen a lot of wreckage, but never bodies.”
They approached the edge of the debris and saw that this particular crater stretched for a few miles. It was deep and filled with rubble that had tumbled in from the outer edge. Several smaller satellite craters pocked the ground around it.
They walked the circumference of the wide circle, looking at the destruction. They saw buildings and whole slabs of highways, but nothing really recognizable or worthwhile.
When they came to the second satellite crater, Knight stopped in his tracks. Right at the edge of the small hole were two things-a Humvee with a flat tire and an open, empty box.
As Bishop pulled up next to Knight, he could see that the box was a medical organ supply cooler. It was empty. The Humvee was an ambulance variant. The front hood and front doors of the vehicle were the same as any other of the multipurpose military-utility vehicles. The back bumper at the crater’s edge had been cleaved in half by the portal when it closed. The vehicle had what looked like an olive drab camper top sporting a big red cross painted on a white square.
As Bishop walked up to the vehicle, Knight went around the back of it and returned with a spare tire that had just missed being cut in half by the portal.
“Hold on, Knight. Let’s check if it runs before we bother.” Bishop slipped into the driver’s seat and started the ignition. The engine purred to life and Bishop smiled. He killed the engine, got out and helped Knight replace the tire.