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“Scare the crap out of them.” She could have sworn he was smiling as he spoke. “Off you go,” he added, which didn’t make any sense.
“Go where?”
“Not you. You stay.”
Who then? She didn’t get a chance to ask because that’s when the screaming started.
Chapter Four
Friday curled herself into the smallest ball she could manage, while still aiming her gun in the direction Striker had pointed her. Flashes of light illuminated shadows around her as laser fire rang out. Dirt fell. Dust billowed. Through the thick cloud, in the hazy flashes of light, she could make out Striker’s back as he crouched a few feet in front of her.
“Snake! Snake!” someone shouted. “It bit me. Fuck. It bit me!” A gut-churning wail went up, echoing off the walls as it traveled down the tunnel.
She stilled as the cry sank in. There were snakes in the tunnel. Slithering, venomous, snakes. In the darkness. With her. Her breathing turned into shallow panting as she fought the very real urge to run screaming. Still. She had to stay still. She had to protect the man who stood between her and Enforcement, as hysteria reigned.
“I’m down, I’m down. It bit my neck!”
“Where is the fucker?”
Another bone-chilling scream.
“What the hell kind of snake is that?”
“Where did it go? Where is it? Can anyone see it? I can’t see it.”
A panicked roar. “It got me!”
“Shoot it!”
“I can’t see it.”
“Where the hell is it?”
Fire blasted out, random and unfocused, as Enforcement agents succumbed to panic. It was agony-filled chaos. Friday concentrated on breathing evenly in an attempt to steady her hands. Focus. She had to focus. Don’t think about the snakes. Don’t think about the snakes…
“Stop shooting!” The order came from farther down the tunnel. It was a dark bark of absolute authority that made Friday shudder. “Get the injured out of here. Pass them back. The rest of you move forward.”
“There it is! It’s huge. Run! Run! It’s above us.” Another shriek filled with agony.
More flashes of blue light. More laser blasts. Friday bit back a cough as dust filled the tunnel and clogged her throat. In the dim glow from the lights attached to the Enforcement uniforms, she watched Striker’s silhouette as he stood. There was a whistle. It might have come from him. The shadow of a man stumbled into sight, his bulk hazy through the dust-filled air. He stumbled. Fell. Sobbing. Wailing. Clutching his neck. Another scream echoed along the tunnel. Someone shouted orders. Shots went off, fired aimlessly. And through it all, her protector stood like a statue.
The fallen man writhed on the ground before them. Why didn’t Striker fire his weapon? Why was he just standing there? He whistled again. The light in the tunnel grew brighter as more men closed in on them. Striker’s silhouette shuddered before he stilled. His arms lowered, and his hand reached for his gun. He rose slightly on the balls of his feet, took aim, and fired. He hit the utility belt on the waist of a dead Enforcement agent. The blast blinded Friday and sent her rocking onto her backside.
The ceiling above the rest of the Enforcement agents began to crumble. They fired blindly, scrambling over each other to get out from under the falling earth. Friday closed her eyes against the biting dust. She wished she could close her ears against the panic and screams of pain as erratic laser blasts echoed through the tunnel.
Striker fired again, hitting a second officer. Another blast. This time it triggered the belt of the man behind as well. Two blasts in quick succession. Friday’s ears were ringing. She shook her head. Dizziness, disorientation—she wanted to double over and retch. A hand grabbed her arm. The air was thick. Unbreathable. A voice at her ear. Distant. Faint, as though she listened through water. “Cover your mouth. Run.”
Striker pried the gun from her grip and grabbed her hand. She pulled the neck of her jumpsuit over her mouth. They rushed forward into blackness as the tunnel fell behind them, crushing Enforcement agents and snakes alike. Dirt and stones rained down. The earth creaked and moved, groaning in protest, pressing in on them.
She stumbled. Striker pulled her up. She ran blindly, her lungs burning, her legs rubber, her heart racing. All the while, the tunnel crumbled behind her. The roar of falling earth was an agonized wail of protest. The earth was angry at having been invaded. It wanted to swallow them whole as punishment for their trespass.
Striker suddenly yanked her to the left. She stumbled, fell against something wooden, and tripped over a step. A door. They’d gone through a door.
“Up. Fast. Don’t quit now.”
He dragged her behind him, moving fast and pulling her along. She fell too many times to count, too high on adrenaline and fear to feel pain.
“Nearly there.” Striker’s voice was an echo in her damaged ears. “There!”
