“Hang on,” Queen said. She wrapped her arms under Bishop’s armpits and dragged him down the mountainside. A few seconds later, the remainder of the tunnel’s stone seal exploded out. It rained down around them like hail.
When it cleared, a fifteen-foot marble giant stood above them. It looked even more fearsome in the light of day.
“Let me go,” Bishop said as Queen continued to drag his body, which was nearly twice the size of her own. “You can make it without me.”
Queen never got a chance to tell Bishop to shut the fuck up. The golem took two steps toward them, cutting the distance between them in half.
And then it stopped.
Slowly, it turned its head back toward the tunnel like it saw something within, or sensed something wrong. What’s happening in there? Queen thought, as she continued to run backward.
Knight shouted into his throat mic. “This is Knight. We have Pip-squeak. Requesting immediate evac!”
With a UH-100S Stealth Blackhawk transport helicopter flown by a pilot from the Nightstalkers circling nearby, Queen knew they would make it. But as she looked back at the black tunnel, she wondered about King. Would the team lose its leader? Would Fiona lose her father?
* * *
THE GOLEM BENT down for him, its stone fingers separating and reaching out. A blur of marble crashed down on the arm, shattering it. For a moment, King thought the golems were attacking each other, but then Alexander flashed into view, slamming his body into the golem. He was covered in his own blood, but as he turned to King and reached out his hand, he appeared unharmed.
As King stood on his one good foot, he felt a painful throb in his chest. He grit his teeth and pitched forward. Alexander was right, he thought. That stuff is killing me.
But then he saw Ridley retreating toward the back of the chamber. Seeing King and Alexander holding their own against the stone giants must have sapped his confidence. If they lost him he might escape into the very earth itself.
But there was something else he needed to do before hunting down Ridley. King drew a throwing knife and took aim at the laptop, which showed a spinning blue circle at its center. Hoping the computer was still in the process of transmitting the audio file that would change the human race into a giant Ridley cult, he took aim. He knew hitting the screen wouldn’t necessarily stop the computer from working. And piercing the base from this angle was impossible. So he aimed for the only critical weak spot he could think of and let the knife fly.
The blade flew through the air, spinning rapidly. It passed over its target, but as the blade spun up, its razor sharp edge hit home and easily sliced through the network cable. The line to the outside world was cut.
King turned away from the computer to find three golems closing in. Beyond them, Ridley was making his getaway. King turned to Alexander and shouted, “Throw me!”
King pointed to Ridley and Alexander immediately understood. He took King by the back of his bulletproof vest and his belt, spun quickly, and with a loud grunt, threw King into the air.
King soared above the golems, out of their reach as he arced over the center of the chamber. He passed over one of the glowing orbs, feeling its heat on his body. Looking down he saw a large, dark brown stain on the floor. He recognized it as the blood of some ancient man who had died here. And then he was falling, dropping like a cannon ball aimed at Ridley’s back. King drew the only weapon he had left, his seven-inch KA-BAR knife.
He heard Alexander’s voice in his mind.
Take off his head. Burn the flesh.
King pulled his arm back, ready to strike.
Pain gripped his chest again. He fought it, refusing to curl up, eyes focused on the back of Ridley’s neck.
Their bodies struck hard as King fell. A blur of motion. A tangle of limbs.
King hit the floor with a loud crack and rolled like a rag doll. He slid to a stop with his legs over Ridley’s motionless torso.
Alexander saw the collision and held his breath.
It seemed the golems did as well. Their attack stopped.
And then Alexander saw why. Richard Ridley’s head rolled into view, severed from his body by King’s blade. A pool of blood so dark it almost looked black spilled from the headless body.
Alexander rushed past the dumbstruck golems and ignored King’s body. He took Ridley’s head in his hands and looked at the face. His eyes twitched madly. His mouth opened and closed, trying to suck in air like a fish out of water. Though his mind was overwhelmed with the pain of suddenly missing its body, Ridley was alive. And as the first tendrils of skin expanded from the neck, Alexander knew he would regenerate if given enough time and liquid.
He stood and ran to one of the small orbs still lighting the room and held the head up to it. Flesh crackled and popped as the super hot light cooked Ridley’s exposed neck. As Alexander took the head down to inspect his handiwork, the air filled with the smell of broiled flesh and the sound of a whispering voice.
Alexander spun, looking for the source. King was still lying limp on the floor. Ridley had no lungs to force air past his voice box. The golems remained motionless. Then he saw him, lying on the floor with his back gouged out. One of the clay golems made in Ridley’s image spoke a final string of words and then grinned.
A violent shaking sent Alexander to the floor. The whole mountain churned violently. As he regained his footing, he looked up and saw the small orb above him shrinking. But it wasn’t dimming, it was growing brighter. The implications struck him quickly.
The tiny stars were growing dense, reducing in size as their gravity intensified. The energy inside them would magnify until each one went supernova.
EIGHTY-FOUR
QUEEN STUMBLED AND fell back. Bishop landed hard on top of her. The mountain shook beneath them. As she pulled herself free from Bishop’s body she felt less sure of their escape. With the Blackhawk still several minutes out, they were sitting ducks on a barren mountainside. Ridley had obviously set something large in motion, and that was never a good thing.
There was no time to wonder, though. The mountain above the tunnel entrance began to crumble, sending large boulders tumbling toward them. She hefted Bishop back up and continued pulling him down the mountain.
A large boulder bounced over the tunnel entrance and headed for the golem. It did nothing to avoid the impact and shattered into pieces when it struck. The boulder broke as well, sending a shower of grit down the mountainside.
Within the cloud of debris, Queen saw something that gave her equal parts hope and dread. Alexander ran out of the tunnel looking as strong as ever. But he held King’s limp body over one shoulder and a thick satchel over the other. They had made it out, but at what cost? King’s lifeless arms dangled.
As Alexander gained on her, he waved for her to move faster and shouted, “The whole mountain’s going to explode!” Then he had an arm under Bishop and hoisted the man up, continuing to run down the mountainside with both men over his shoulders.
Queen, despite being free to run at full speed found keeping up with Alexander a challenge. Even with five hundred pounds of Delta operators in his arms, he ran without slowing.
A deep, resonating rumble filled the air. The small stones on the mountainside bounced like manic jumping beans. As they reached the bottom slope, a wave of pressure knocked them off their feet. But the force had not pushed them from behind, it had been sucked past them—toward the mountain.
They all looked back as the mountain collapsed in on itself.
Alexander squinted. It was not the result he had expected.