Hawk kicked away the debris holding the door open and let it swing closed.
“Blow the bridge,” Cort ordered.
Hawk stopped for a moment and snapped something on his belt.
The next moment the entire building seemed to shake, as if they were in another earthquake.
And then it kept shaking.
Dust and debris fell around them, choking the staircase into total darkness.
“It shouldn’t be doing this!” Hawk shouted over the commlink.
“Keep moving down!” Cort shouted over the roar.
Hank had no idea what was happening. He knew the shaped charges shouldn’t have had so much force. More than likely the Pharons had fired back.
Or their ship was attacking.
He snapped on his light, but it couldn’t penetrate the dust.
He couldn’t see a thing.
He pressed himself against the shaking wall, feeling the rumbling through his back. Then he kept going, stumbling and falling downward, using the wall for balance where he could. He just hoped that Vasquez and Hawk with Cort were behind him.
Slowly the rumbling stopped around them.
But very slowly.
Hank had made it to the next landing by the time it had completely stopped.
The visibility was no greater there. Even with the light right in front of his face he could see nothing but swirling dust.
“You make it, Doc?” Cort asked over the link.
“On the next landing down,” Hank said. “Can’t see a damn thing.”
“We’re right behind you, Doc,” Hawk said. “Just keep on going.”
Hank wanted to know if any of the Pharons had made it across that bridge. But he stumbled a dozen more steps down through the dust before he got the words out.
“Anything following us now?” Hank asked. “Can the motion detector get a reading?”
“Nothing but us in this building,” Cort said. “Some in the staircase of the one next door, moving down. From the looks of it they’re going back to the last sky bridge, over to another building and then on down.”
“Shit,” Hawk said. “They’re going to go down and flank us.”
Exactly what Hank had been thinking.
“We’ve got to keep everyone moving, dust or no dust,” Cort said. “We’ve got to get to the street.”
And Hank understood why. If the Pharons trapped them in the stairwell, they were all as good as dead.
“No rest until we’re on the ground, people,” Cort said. “Pass it on to the civilians.”
“Copy that,” Jenkins said.
The swirling dust was thinning some as Hank stumbled to the next staircase and started down, his back against the wall. But he still couldn’t even see his hand holding his rifle.
It was slow going.
And just then, he didn’t have time to go slowly.
24
Time: 6:42 P . M . Pacific Time
17 hours, 11 minutes after Arrival
Stephanie ducked out of the front door of the alien skyscraper into the dim twilight. At that time of the evening very little of the Maw’s light penetrated down into the street. She turned and followed Stanton, Lee, Bogle, and Edaro down the street to the east and away from that building.
At their head was Private Jenkins.
Private Waters was behind her.
It felt great to be on the ground and headed east again. Toward the ocean. The cold air on her face refreshed her and momentarily washed away some of the fear. It seemed like a lifetime since they’d left the transport and started into the heart of the city.
Maybe two lifetimes.
With any luck, they’d soon be back at the facility. But that was going to take some real luck at this point. Hank, Vasquez, Cort, Marva, and Hawk were still fifteen stories up in the building, coming down as fast as they could go.
But from the motion detector Marva carried, it was clear the four Pharon foot soldiers were going to beat them to the street and appear just one block up to the north.
In less than four minutes.
The Pharons wouldn’t beat Hank and the troopers by much, but unless the aliens could be slowed down or held off, Stephanie and the others would be trapped there, their retreat cut off.
Jenkins pointed to a pile of wreckage. “Good cover. Let’s hold here.”
They all gathered while Waters took up a position on his stomach facing the direction from which the Pharons were coming.
Stephanie was amazed at how exhausted and dirty they all were. It looked as if they had all walked through a dust-filled hell. Actually, they were still in it. And there was still a good chance none of them was going to survive this.
Edaro quickly pulled out his computer.
“How long?” Cort asked.
“The energy is building to levels I never thought it could reach,” Edaro said. “It’s like a volcano at this point. It might blow at any time. Might be another hour. Depends on what triggers it to blow.”
Stephanie’s stomach clamped down on nothing. They were so close to getting out, yet the entire city might shift with them at any moment. And even if they lived through the shift, they would be stuck in this dead alien city with Pharons and Sand.
She would rather have the shift kill her.
“Doctors,” Jenkins said, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to head down the street on your own. Waters and I have to try to cover for the rest. Once the fighting starts here, Private Cort says that if it looks like we’re losing, we run full out back to the beach. There should be someone along the way to extract you.”
“Understood,” Bogle said. “But I plan to stay and help. Edaro, you get that information of yours to safety.” He slapped his rifle. “I’ve been carrying this long enough. I should try firing it a few times.”
“I want to stay, too,” Stephanie said.
“Actually,” Edaro said, “I think we’re safer right here than running alone down that street.”
“I agree,” Stanton said, the sweat running down his face.
“I guess we’re going nowhere fast,” Lee said.
Jenkins nodded, his brown eyes cold, a frown on his dust-covered face. He glanced down the street, then nodded. “You’ve got a point about being safer here. I don’t like it, but it’s going to have to do. Spread out along both sides of the street and get into good cover positions. Those damn aliens will be here in less than a minute. And keep your fool heads down and let us do the fighting.”
Bogle gave a mock salute and slipped behind a good hunk of debris where he had a clear shot down the road. The others also scattered, each finding rocks or piles of rubble to hide behind.
Stephanie crouched beside Jenkins. The Pug pistol was still in her pocket, but she didn’t draw it. She was sure that if she ever got close enough to a Pharon to use a pistol, she’d probably already be dead.
But her reason for wanting to stay wasn’t to take part in the fighting, but to help anyone who was still alive when the fighting ended. She was the medical doctor. Her job was to stay close to the battle for the sake of the wounded.
“Here they come,” Jenkins said. “How soon until you’re out of there, Vasquez?”
Stephanie wished she could have heard the answer, but she couldn’t.
At that moment, one block up the street, one of the most horrifying sights she had ever seen came shambling out of the building, followed by two more just like it.
Pharons.
Walking dead.
Mummies of humanoids who had somehow been reanimated, covered in beautiful, engraved golden armor and equipped with packs that cycled fluids through their dried bodies.
They looked worse in person than they had on the video playback she’d seen.
Though their forms were ugly, their armor was exquisitely covered with glyphs and symbols. She could understand why those who’d studied the Cache called them Pharons. They had a kind of Egyptian look.
The armor seemed to cover their mid-bodies and s
houlders, but not their arms and legs. There it was obvious their skin was wrapped, and what skin did show was an ugly, rotting gray.
Almost instantly their odor drifted over. Stephanie had smelled plenty of corpses in her time, but nothing as heavy and as sickening as this odor of death.
Around her the other doctors covered their noses, while Jenkins and Waters didn’t even seem to notice.
All of the Pharons were carrying long, curved weapons of some sort. Even the weapons were decorated with intricate symbols.
She was close enough to see that the first Pharon was missing a hunk out of one side of its gray face and was minus one wrapped hand. But it was still shambling along.
The second walked with a limp because part of its leg was missing. The aliens had apparently been hurt in the fighting, but that didn’t seem enough to stop them. It looked like Pharons had to be down, armor out of commission, before they stopped.
And maybe, she guessed, sometimes not even then. Anything that was dead and still walking probably could take a lot more damage than most creatures.
Jenkins and Waters both opened fire at the same time. Stephanie could see their bullets rip at the armor of the closest Pharon, but it wasn’t enough to down him.
Bogle opened up with his rifle, snapping off shots against the Pharon armor, trying for more vulnerable spots.
Right behind him Lee and Edaro opened fire.
The street around her echoed with the battle, the sounds of rifle fire echoing off the buildings.
She had never been in the middle of something like this. The sound was overwhelming. Her focus became even more intense, but she managed to remind herself to breathe.
Beside her Jenkins suddenly stood and threw a grenade before ducking back down. Stephanie watched as the grenade hit its mark and exploded right under the leading Pharon, blowing it into a dozen pieces and downing one of the two following him.
The second one got right back on its feet and kept coming, bringing its strange-looking weapon up ready to fire as it walked over a leg of the one Jenkins had just blown up.
Another Pharon now emerged from the same building as his companions turned toward them.
That was all four of them. One down, three to go.
Everyone kept firing, pouring shots into the Pharons.
Stephanie couldn’t believe the creatures weren’t falling. She could actually see the bullets ripping into them.
“Aim at the heads!” Stanton shouted.
The leading Pharon fired its weapon. A corner of one building exploded behind them, showering them in dust and rock.
“Head shots!” Jenkins yelled. Instantly that seemed to make a difference, as three or four of them aimed at the head of the leading Pharon soldier.
For a moment Stephanie watched the Pharon stagger, then twist sideways as the bullets ripped through the cloth wrapping covering its head. Bullets smashed into its support tanks.
More pounded its head.
Fluid sprayed from the tanks.
Then, as if a small grenade had gone off just inside the Pharon’s golden armor, its head exploded.
The headless soldier in his beautiful decorated armor marched on for a dozen steps before it fell over a hunk of debris and twisted there.
The smell got even worse, making her eyes water.
Rotted flesh.
Worse than any morgue she’d ever been in.
Two aliens down and two to go.
Stephanie was very glad none of them was what Stanton had called a Pharon priest. These regular Pharon soldiers were hard enough to kill.
From out of the building near them, Hank and Vasquez came running, firing at the Pharons just down the street from them as they came.
Two Pharons got off energy shots at Hank and Vasquez. One shot exploded high against the side of the building, sending a massive cloud of debris and dust over the street. The other shot caught Vasquez solidly in the back and smashed him against the wall.
Stephanie could tell even from a distance that by the time his body hit the sidewalk, it was nothing more than a burnt-out, dead husk. From the looks of it you didn’t take a direct hit from a Pharon weapon and live.
Hank was knocked off his feet by the blast. He rolled and came up running, firing back at the Pharon soldiers as he went.
“Cover him!” Jenkins shouted.
All of them opened up again at the two remaining aliens.
The noise made Stephanie’s head ring, but she couldn’t stop watching.
Behind Hank, Marva and Cort appeared from the door of the building, moving as fast as they could as Private Hawk covered them.
“Grenades!” Cort shouted as he ran.
Alongside Stephanie, Jenkins stood and threw another grenade.
Hawk did the same from his position covering the retreat of Hank, Cort, and Marva.
Jenkins’s grenade exploded against the leg of one Pharon just as he was shooting. The energy shot went wild, smashing into the building high above them as the Pharon tumbled over backward, one leg completely gone.
Hawk threw another.
Then Jenkins.
Then Hawk.
They rained grenades on the two aliens as Stephanie covered her head. Debris seemed to be raining down like a hard summer storm. The dust made it almost impossible to see very far, and the smell was so bad it had her eyes watering like she was crying.
And the sounds of the rifles firing filled the street like a thundering storm, never really pausing.
Stephanie wiped the dirt and water out of her eyes and peeked out from her cover. Through the dust she could see that both Pharons had been knocked down by the last assault. But both were trying to get up again.
“Hit them one more time!” Cort shouted. “Grenades.”
Jenkins stood and threw again. Then without ducking back down, he started blasting round after round of bullets into the downed aliens.
This time the two Pharons stayed down, as the grenades and bullets sent wrapped mummy limbs flying in all directions.
“Cease fire!” Cort ordered.
Around them the street quieted.
To Stephanie the sudden quiet seemed almost louder than the fighting. It hadn’t taken long, yet the fight had seemed to go on forever.
Dust filled the air, and the smell of explosions almost overpowered even the stink of the Pharons.
Stephanie couldn’t believe it had stopped.
She stared at the body of Private Vasquez. His eyes were open and gone, burnt out in the intense blast of energy. He hadn’t even known what hit him. That much was good.
She jumped up and ran over to check him. Private Hawk was already there. It was too late. Vasquez was dead.
The street in front of them was littered with different Pharon parts, some still moving. Stephanie desperately wanted to go check them out, to see what they might reveal. But she had no doubt that would be suicidal. There were probably a thousand ways those Pharon soldiers could still kill her.
“Let’s get out of here,” Cort ordered. “Standard cover formation. Jenkins, take point.”
Private Marva stayed with Cort, helping him down the street toward the ocean.
Waters moved over quickly to support Cort’s other side.
“Hawk, bring up the rear,” Cort ordered. “Put a sonic marker on Vasquez’s body.”
Hawk did as he was ordered.
Stephanie turned and followed behind Dr. Lee. All of them looked as shocked as she felt. Hank looked like he’d come through hell.
“You made it,” she said to him.
“This far,” he said. “But we’re not out of this yet.”
“Right,” she said. “And the closer we get to the ocean, the more vulnerable we’re going to be from air attack.”
“Exactly,” Hank said. “But also more likely to be picked up.”
“I like that thought,” she said.
Stephanie stayed right with him, moving quickly down the street. Ahead of them the other four scientists moved at the
same pace, staying behind Cort and the two helping him, plus Jenkins on point.
Behind them Stephanie knew the massive phase generator was building up energy to take the city on another jump to some other corner of the Maelstrom. Or maybe outside the Maelstrom. Who could say?
What she did know was that the island had already been on Earth for over seventeen hours.
She just hoped it had another few minutes left in it.
She was desperately afraid it didn’t.
25
Time: 7:13 P . M . Pacific Time
17 hours, 46 minutes after Arrival
They had managed to run and walk a good twenty blocks without further attacks by the Pharons. Hank was having a very tough time catching his breath. Though Stephanie was in somewhat better shape, it wasn’t by much. They were going to have to stop for a few minutes soon. But he didn’t feel they had a few minutes.
Behind him he heard Stanton swear at something again. The guy had been doing that for the last ten blocks, just about every twenty steps.
Hank ignored him and focused on where he was going. The buildings around them were down to only twenty stories or so tall. He doubted that at this level the structures offered much cover from the Pharon ship.
Jenkins was still in the lead. Marva was helping Cort just ahead of them. Hank clicked on his commlink. “We need to take a rest in the next block,” he managed to pant out.
“Understood,” Cort’s voice came back in his ear. “First cover, take it.”
Then Cort did something on the commlink Hank hadn’t heard before.
“Private Cort to mainland, come in please?”
Nothing. Or at least nothing that Hank could hear.
“This is the Union squad on the alien island,” Cort said. “Sergeant Malone is dead. We need retrieval quickly. Island is about to phase to a new location. Evacuate all other personnel.”
Again nothing but silence in Hank’s ear. Hank had no idea if Cort was getting an answer or just sending the signal in hopes that someone would pick it up. More than likely, the buildings were still too tall for a comm signal to get out.
Cort motioned for Hank and the rest to stop near a pile of fallen rubble near an open hole in a building. Hank managed to lower his aching body onto a broken chunk of wall. He doubted there was a place on him that wasn’t banged or bruised. But at least he was still alive, which was more than Vasquez could say.
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