Vadik grabbed at Yelchin when he fell, but his grip slid from the man’s jacket and they all watched Yelchin fall. His body crashed into the walls, breaking some of the growths on his way to the bottom.
The spider creature at the bottom walked over to the body when it landed, turned its head around and began ripping off chunks of flesh.
Babinski aimed his rifle at the small creature responsible for the man’s death and fired. The small creature dodged the bullet and agilely leaped from rib to rib to avoid the trail of bullets that followed it.
“Hold your fire,” shouted Brusilov. “It’s too fast, you’ll never hit it.”
Babinski reluctantly released his finger from the trigger.
The spider creature below swallowed a piece of flesh and shrilled softly.
The clack-clacking started up again, but this time more than six bony feet were responsible. A hoard of the spider creatures emerged from the darkness at the bottom of the hole and raced up towards them.
“Move!” shouted Brusilov.
The men scrambled up the ribs.
They climbed onto the highest level and peered down at the swarm climbing ever closer. Some shrilled piercing cries, while others spun their heads and snapped their vicious jaws at the intruders.
Brusilov’s gaze searched the room for an exit, but if there was one it was hidden behind the brown growths that covered the walls. He glanced down at the oncoming menace. Thirty seconds and they’d be upon them. Even fully armed they wouldn’t stand a chance against so many. “Spread out and search for an exit,” he ordered. “There has to be one here somewhere.”
Aware they had precious little time, the men hurried around the edges of the room and peered behind the ribs of growth.
“Found one,” called out Sergei.
The men rushed over.
Sergei tore the growth from around the door control and pressed the button.
The door groaned and vibrated but remained closed.
Their time ran out when the creatures poured out of the hole and rushed towards them.
Talbot stared at the fast approaching obstruction that would surely derail the train and kill them both and, not for the first time since setting foot aboard the treacherous alien vessel, wished he had chosen a different profession.
Richard glanced at Talbot and noticed his worried expression. “Don’t despair just yet. I have an idea. Shoot out the window.” Richard stabbed the knife into the console to keep the lever in the full-speed position.
Talbot, surprised and enthused by Richard’s relative calmness, raised the rifle. “Why?”
“We’re climbing onto the roof, but hurry, we don’t have much time.”
Though not altogether agreeable to the mad plan, with the monsters blocking their only exit, Talbot could see no other option. He shot out the window.
Glass sprayed into the cab and wind whistled around them. Richard climbed across the console and stood so the top of his body protruded through the opening. He grabbed a lip formed on the roof edge and hauled himself up.
Talbot glanced at the rapidly approaching ramp as he scrambled onto the console, made the sign of the cross on his chest and climbed onto the roof. Richard was already running along the top. He set off in pursuit. The wind pressing against their backs gave an extra boost to their leaps across the gaps between carriages.
When Richard glanced behind, he saw the train had reached the ramp. The front shot up with a loud squeal as it slid up the floor. The second carriage quickly followed, as did those in line. Richard turned away and increased his sprint for the back. They might just make it. As he neared the end of the last carriage, he saw the large group of Insectoids chasing the train. There would be no escape for them this way.
Talbot caught up to him and looked at the oncoming monsters. “Now that’s a hoard.”
They turned when their carriage headed up the ramp.
The train sped up the incline so fast it shot off the top and crashed through a wall. Richard and Talbot dived to their stomachs to avoid the debris flying by above them and bouncing along the carriages. The train jerked and shuddered from side to side. Talbot gripped a ridge running the width of the roof to stop from sliding off. Richard wasn’t so fortunate; he rolled onto his back and slid towards the edge. When he spied Talbot’s feet waving in the air above his face, Richard grabbed his ankles and held on. The sound of metal being crushed and ripped apart was deafening. Talbot lifted his head. A large section of metal staircase headed straight for him. He ducked as it struck the roof a foot away and bounced over him. Richard watched the staircase shoot by and then glimpsed something high above―men standing and hanging on another higher section of staircase. It was the SEAL team. He recognized Colbert and couldn’t resist flashing the shocked man a grin before he was carried from his sight as the carriage shot through the far wall of the stairwell.
The SEALs had only descended one flight of stairs when the rumbling began and the staircase vibrated. Wondering what new life-threatening event was about to unfold, they stopped and peered down the stairwell. An almighty crash rippled up the walls. Metal screeched. The staircase shook so violently some of the men were thrown off their feet. Others tumbled down its treads when it collapsed. When Colbert and Cleveland were thrown over the side, their hands grabbed at the rail as the staircase stretched out like a coiled spring unwinding, bouncing the two men hanging on up and down when the stairs below them broke away.
Colbert watched it crash against the walls as it fell and far below what seemed to be a train speed by. He stared in disbelief at the person riding on its roof. It was Richard. The damn man smiled at him before being dragged out of his sight through the wall. What was the fool playing at? I thought he wanted off this ship?
“Was that Richard?”
Colbert looked over at Cleveland hanging a little way above him. “It was. The man’s a damn curse.”
When Colbert glanced below again he noticed movement. A group of strange creatures rushed over the wreckage and headed after the train. He smiled. It seemed Richard’s luck had finally run out.
Lights swept over Colbert and Cleveland from above.
“Are you two okay?” called out Stedman.
“Just about,” Cleveland replied.
“We’re gonna climb up,” called out Colbert, pulling himself up the rail, which swayed and bounced preciously with his movements.
When they reached the relative safety of the still intact part of the staircase where his men waited, Colbert shone his light at the exit they needed to reach two floors below. It was too far away to jump and they had no rope. They’d either have to find another way to reach the level or abandon the mission.
“We could use the lift shaft,” Sullivan suggested. “There’s a maintenance ladder running down the wall.”
Colbert thought it was worth a look. “Show me.”
The floor of the room the train had smashed its way into collapsed when the crumpled nose of the front carriage struck. The force of the plummeting wreckage buckled the walls when it impacted with the lower floor and punched a hole through. The following carriages twisted and crumpled with screams of protest. Some flipped over other carriages, their links snapping like twigs under the strain; others crashed into the ones in front and buckled from the force.