The archaeologist scuttled over to the table and started poring over the map.
“Boss? I could set a charge if you like? When Sir Chompsalot comes through I could vaporise the bugger, no probs.”
Flynn shook his head. “As much as I like the sound of that, it would bring the whole damn chamber down on top of our heads too. Kinda a lose-lose situation, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Nah. I can use it like blasting cord. Loop a line of Play Doh around the door frame and direct the explosion inwards. It would contain the blast, wouldn’t compromise the chamber ceiling, and give Chompy out there one hell of a headache. If nothing else, it would at least buy us some time to make a run for it. And to be honest? I don’t like the fact we’re effectively cornered in here.”
Flynn looked at his friend. “I agree, mate. Look, are you absolutely sure?”
“Yep.”
“You’re sure sure?”
“Boss, your doubt in my ability to blow shit up in a controlled and refined manner wounds me!”
“Gary, I have no doubt that you can blow shit up. I just don’t want you blowing us up at the same time.” He glanced at Micky. “Mick? You’re our engineer. You concur?”
“Do-able. As long as the Play Doh is put on the very edge of the frame it should do exactly as Gary says without compromising the roof. But dude, you better be pretty sparing near the apex of the door arch. If that central keystone block comes down, the whole lot follows it.”
Gary nodded. “Duly noted. Boss?”
“Do it.”
Gary immediately put his P90 down and turned to the ordnance box. Flynn flickered his eyes away from the door and towards the professor. “Professor? How’s it coming? Got a green route out of here yet or what?”
“I may have something…” The professor spun the map around and stared intently at it. “Yes… yes! There’s another way out!” He looked up and smiled a hopeful, slightly hysterical smile. “That door is obviously the main exit route, but there’s another egress marked here. It drops us into a corridor and then out into the main passageway.”
“Aww, bless! Listen to you, fella! Egress!” Micky laughed sharply. “We must be rubbing off on ya. Anyone else would’ve said a ‘secret door’!”
“Leave the man alone, Mick. Right. Where’s this ‘egress’ point, Professor?” Flynn nodded at Micky. “Don’t take your eyes off that door, Cox.”
“Copy.”
Flynn focused his attention back on the academic. “Okay. Show me.”
“This is the armoury. This is where we are.”
“Well, shit. Thank you for pointing that out to me, professor. I thought I was on the third level at Bluewater fucking Shopping Centre! Door, fella, where’s the damn door?”
“I… yes, sorry about that. It’s supposed to be here.” The academic stabbed a finger at the map.
“Supposed to be?”
“Well, I’m assuming that’s what this symbol means, yes.”
“And you know what they say about ‘assume’ being the mother of all fuck ups, right?”
“Um, boss? We got snuffling over here…” Micky Cox shifted his grip on the P90. Outside the door came that stomach-churning snaffling and scratching. The Black Prince was back and worrying at the timbers.
Flynn walked to his friend’s side. “What d’ya reckon he’s up to, Mick?”
“Weakest point of any door is the hinges. My guess? If he’s smart he’ll go for them. But another few shoulder barges and it’s going to be a bit of a moot point, boss, because that door is on its last legs. Look.” He pointed at the central plank. Bright, fresh wood that had been buried under ages of grime and blackened layers could clearly be seen. The plank was splitting.
“Oh, he’s smart, Mick. Believe me.” He jabbed a finger at the archaeologist. “Professor, find that trap door or whatever it is. Find it right now.” Flynn turned. “Gary? We ready, mate?”
“Two minutes.”
“We may not have two minutes, big guy.” Flynn took up position with Micky. He stared at the door and frowned. “Mick? I’ve got an idea. You’re not gonna like it.”
“O-kay?”
“We open the door.”
“Fuck off!”
“No, hear me out. If he starts battering that door again, it’s gonna give and we’ll be wide open with no way of stopping him from coming through full tilt. Trust me, this bugger moves fast. So we open the door, fill the bastard with two clips worth of twenty-eights, shut the door again and by then Gary should be ready with his Play Doh and the professor will hopefully have found us a way out of here by the back door.”
Cox’s eyes widened. “You’re insane!”
“You got a better idea?”
“Oh, I dunno, how ‘bout I try clicking my heels together three times and say ‘there’s no place like home’?”
“So that’s a no, then?”
“I’ve found it! The door! I’ve found it! The professor grunted as he pushed against a massive stack of shelves laden with old boxes. “It’s… behind here!” He grunted again.
“Take the damn boxes off, you idiot! Then you’ll be able to move the shelves.” Flynn looked back at the door. “Okay, fuck that, plan B.
“Good. ‘Cause you’re bang on, boss, I didn’t like plan A.”
“We’ll do exactly as I said and put the welcome mat out.
“Oh, c’mon, seriously?”
Flynn ignored Micky’s protestations. “We fill Chompy with ordnance, shut the door bloody damn quick, and then you, me, Gary and the professor get the hell out of here through the trap door. Gary? Don’t worry about being all delicate with the Play Doh, mate, put the whole lot up. Everything we’ve got, just slap and go, okay? We let him think we’re still in here, he comes barrelling through the door, trips the detonator and brings the entire bloody castle down on his head. Meanwhile, we’re exiting stage left sharpish. Any questions?”
“What about the cat?”
“Rupert comes with me.” Flynn looked at the cat and winked. Its green eyes lit up and it started purring loudly again. “All clear?”
“Copy.”
“Professor?”
The academic grunted a response and tossed another dust-covered box into the corner. “Um, copy?”
Flynn grinned at the man. “Adda boy! Okay then. On three, Mick.”
“Not liking plan B at all…”
“One.” Flynn heaved the cross beam out of its cradle.
“Two…” He slid the bolts back one by one.
“THREE!” He flicked the key, grabbed the handle and turned, pulling the door wide open. Flynn dropped to the floor so that Micky could fire over the top of him. He angled the P90 up so that anything running towards them would get a belly full of bullets at 45 degrees. He didn’t care how ‘undead’ you were, that would do a lot of damage.
Micky aimed into the darkness. “Incoming!”
The Black Prince came howling towards them, venom-laden saliva spraying from his open maw. There was none of the cackling laughter this time. Just a crazed scream that resonated like savage bells from the granite walls, ringing and echoing through the entire citadel.
“Fire!” Flynn depressed the trigger and the P90 spat bullet after bullet at the monster. The P90 could fire nine hundred rounds per minute, so Flynn knew they only had a few seconds before the fifty-round magazine was empty.
Above him a swarm of bullets from Micky’s P90 buzzed. The noise was deafening as one hundred rounds focused a colossal amount of kill-power into one soft body.