‘Dad thinks I can do this,’ she whispered. ‘If he thinks I can . . . then I can.’
She started her descent.
After just a few feet, she cleared the floor, the taut hose lifting her as it angled towards the windows. Another surge of fear made her halt. She was now relying entirely on her own strength, and the plastic clip, to keep from falling. ‘I can do this,’ she said, forcing herself not to look down. ‘Oh Jeez. I can do it. I can. I can!’
She set off again, reaching the windows. Wind gusted around her. Again she refused to look down, instead fixing her gaze on the hose’s now-visible far end. It was about five storeys lower – and to her relief and joy, she saw her father waving from a broken window.
Filled with sudden hope, she headed across the gap, taking her hands off the hose to slide freely, at first for brief moments, then for longer and longer. She picked up speed, moving so fast that her hands almost couldn’t keep up—
A new smell hit her nostrils. Not from the fires below, but a sharp scent, like melting plastic . . .
She looked up – and to her alarm saw smoke swirling from the nylon harness as it rasped over the hose. The friction was melting it!
‘Oh no, no!’ she squealed, grabbing the hose and clenching her legs together. She halted, but the smoke didn’t stop. A snap as overstressed strands stretched and broke, then another—
‘Macy!’ Her father’s voice, not far away. ‘Keep going! You’re almost here!’
‘It’s breaking!’ she cried.
‘Wrap your arms around the hose! Keep hold!’
‘I’m scared!’
‘I’ll catch you! Just do it – trust me!’
She reluctantly let go with one hand. Her upper body swung, the harness taking her weight – and there was another terrifying crackle of breaking threads. She screamed, but pulled herself upwards and crossed both arms over the hose to let herself slide onwards.
Even through her clothing, the hose bit painfully at the bends of her elbows. She moaned, but kept her hold. The smaller tower’s mirrored face rushed closer – and swallowed her as she slithered through the window.
Rough hands grabbed her. ‘Got you!’ said Eddie.
She burst into tears. ‘Daddy!’
He hurriedly unfastened the harness clip and helped her down. ‘I’ve got you, you’re okay.’ A hug, a kiss on her cheek, then he stood. ‘But you’ve got to go. There are stairs through there.’ He pointed at a door. ‘Get down to the ground and run.’
‘I don’t want to leave you!’
‘This place’ll collapse any minute! Soon as everyone else is here, I’ll follow. But you need to get clear. I saw a big park on the other side of a car park, that way.’ Another jab of his finger. ‘Wait for me there.’ She didn’t move. ‘Macy, I mean it! Go!’
Despite the danger, she managed a full ten-year-old’s pout. ‘Buggeration and fuckery.’
Eddie’s eyes went wide. ‘Oh, your mum’s going to kill me. If this bloody building doesn’t kill us first!’ He looked around as the hose shuddered. Cheng was making his descent. ‘I don’t have time to argue, Macy. I’ve got to help the others, then I’ll come and find you.’
‘Do you promise?’
‘I promise. I always turn up in the end, don’t I?’ Another kiss, then he firmly pushed her away. ‘Now go!’
With deep reluctance, she ran for the exit. Eddie watched her go, taking a few extra seconds to make sure she had actually left, then turned to observe Cheng’s approach.
A warrior’s voice echoed from the speaking crystal. ‘We have the resurrection key, my lord!’
‘Good,’ Gadreel replied. ‘What about the woman? Is she dead?’
Hesitation before the reply. ‘She . . . escaped.’
The Nephilim leader scowled, but put his annoyance aside. They had the key, and that was all that mattered. He searched for somewhere large enough to set down the fortress. Beside the smaller of the two wrecked towers was a large grey building with a flat roof; past that was a wide-open swathe of grass and trees. He ordered the warrior piloting the vimana to land there, then told the men on the ground to head towards it.
The fortress silently glided towards the park. Gadreel returned his attention to the broken-backed ruins. Sidona would soon finish what she had started – and once the tower was reduced to rubble, the rest of the city would suffer the same fate.
Cheng slithered the last few metres into the office. Eddie caught him. ‘Okay, I’ve got you.’ He waited for the young Chinese to move, but he clung to the hose like a spider monkey, eyes tightly shut. ‘Hey! Cheng! You made it, you’re safe.’ The floor shuddered, windows cracking. ‘Well, not safe safe . . .’
Cheng opened one eye. ‘I made it down?’
‘No, you fell off and died; this is heaven and I’m God. Yes, you bloody made it!’
Like Macy, Cheng was attached to the hose by equipment webbing. Eddie popped the clasp. Cheng fell to the floor with a thud, his pack beneath him. ‘Ow!’
‘Sorry. But I need you to catch up with Macy. I told her to run downstairs and get to the park. I want you to stay with her until I get there.’
Cheng stood and headed for the door. ‘I’ll look after her, Eddie.’
‘I know you will. Get going.’
The younger man hurried off. Eddie returned to the window. The first soldier was making a rapid descent. If the last man was as quick, they might all escape before both towers collapsed—
The fortress slid into view from behind the burning skyscraper, descending. Dismay as Eddie realised where it was going.
Towards the park – where he had just sent Macy.
He froze, torn between the urge to save his daughter and his duty to help the soldiers. They might be from an unfriendly nation, but right now, they all faced a common enemy. His mind found a reluctant compromise: wait for the man to arrive, then go after Macy while the soldier assisted his comrade.
Frustrated by the forced inaction, he waited for him to traverse the final stretch. The soldier soon arrived. Eddie helped him in. A hurried round of charades explained that the Englishman wanted to catch up with his daughter. The man nodded and smiled in understanding, waving for him to go. Eddie clapped him on the shoulder, then scooped up the rocket launcher and ran for the exit.
36
‘Macy!’
Macy had just reached the fourth floor. She looked back up the debris-strewn stairwell to see Cheng several levels above, pounding breathlessly downwards. ‘Are you okay?’ she called out.
‘I’m having several heart attacks at once, but yes!’ he gasped. ‘Your dad told me to get you out of here! No, don’t stop,’ he said as she halted. ‘I’ll catch up with you.’
‘Only if I slow right down,’ she warned, but she kept going. Three floors to go, two. She eased off to let him get closer. ‘Come on! We’re almost there!’
‘I’m . . . so glad,’ he panted as he caught up at the door.
Dust swirled in as she opened it, making them both cough. They saw why as they hurried into the lobby. The decapitated top of the larger tower had fallen outside, the main exit blocked by hundreds of tons of rubble. ‘Over there,’ said Macy, pointing. ‘We can get out through the parking lot.’
Another set of doors led into an adjoining structure. ‘Is it safe?’ Cheng asked.
‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘But if we stay in here much longer, we’ll get squashed!’
‘We definitely don’t want that,’ he agreed.
They both ran for the exit.
The vimana hovered over the park, turning so Gadreel could regard the two towers. His warriors were on the way with the key, but he warned them to give the broken-backed building a wide berth. When Sidona finally brought it down, the destruction would affect a large area . . .
The moment was coming. He saw lights in the tower�
��s base – something more than the seething flames. The earth’s power was rising again. More flashes, lightning bolts snaking into the air – and the whole ruin shuddered.
The toppled section sagged, every surviving window shattering in a dazzling mirrored cascade. Dust erupted from within as concrete crumbled.
The lights grew brighter – then another explosion blasted the lower floors apart.
With a fearsome roar, the entire structure started to fall.
The Chinese soldier watched his comrade descend the hose – then jumped in shock as strange lightning lanced from the bottom of the broken tower—
All the windows above burst apart. Tons of broken glass fell in a great wave towards the plaza below – sweeping the other soldier away with it.
The smaller tower lurched, earthquake-force tremors shaking it. He ran for the exit, barely able to keep his balance. Tiles and light fittings fell from the suspended ceiling, dust dropping from widening cracks in the concrete slabs above.
He swerved as a section of floor fell away, then sprinted for the door—
The ceiling pounded down on him like a sledgehammer.
Eddie was still nine storeys up when the tower shook. The wrecked skyscraper was about to come down – and take his building with it.
There was no way he would reach the ground floor in time. Instead he barged through the stairwell exit. He had only one chance of survival – and even that was slim.
He charged across empty offices. Wind blew in through broken windows ahead. Beyond them he saw the fortress settling over the park like a great dark bird. He had sent Macy towards it. The grim thought spurred him on. He had to save her, no matter what.
The car park came into view as he neared the windows. It was unfinished, a couple of large trucks, including a cement mixer, parked near a partially skimmed swathe of concrete surface at the far end. The workers had long since fled. The upper level was two storeys below him, a gap of fifteen feet separating it from the tower. The nearer end was strewn with fallen debris.
Eddie knew he could make the jump – but he would be falling nearly thirty feet onto a hard surface. However good his landing, he would almost certainly break bones.
But it was that or death. He looked for the clearest landing spot and ran at the window—
The floor dropped out from under him.
He stumbled to a stop just before the edge. Broken concrete and steel whooshed past the windows as debris shook loose from the upper floors.
Another lurch almost knocked him down. A huge, explosive crack of disintegrating concrete rolled up from below. The whole building dropped by a foot, the central core crumbling under the sheer weight of the toppled skyscraper. It was about to fall—
Eddie scrambled back across the room, then ran again.
The floor dropped once more . . . and this time did not stop.
The parking lot opened out before him. He reached the edge – and leapt into open air.
The gap rushed past below as he arced towards the concrete expanse. The tower’s slow-motion collapse had eaten several feet out of his fall, but it would still be a hard landing—
His feet hit solid ground – and he rolled to absorb the impact. Even so, it felt as if someone had whacked his ankles with a crowbar. But he couldn’t stop. He dragged himself up, running painfully towards the trucks.
A terrifying crackle split the air behind him as both towers fell.
The precariously suspended section of skyscraper finally succumbed to its wounds and split at the middle. Both halves swung down, smashing through the faces of the structures at each end, and hit the plaza between them like a barrage of blockbuster bombs.
The pounding shocks flung Eddie into the air. He landed hard on his side, the rocket launcher digging into his back as he rolled over it. Groaning, he looked up – to see the end of the parking structure drop away amidst a cloud of dust. Thousands of tons of falling debris had demolished its eastern end.
The collapse started a chain reaction. Huge concrete slabs flipped up like playing cards and disappeared into the maelstrom – each nearer to Eddie than the last. ‘Arse chives!’ he yelled, panic overpowering pain. He ran again, sections dropping behind his heels, getting closer—
The slab underfoot tipped backwards. He threw himself up the steepening slope, hitting its top at waist height. Flying rubble struck his shins and knees. He dragged himself over the edge, feeling the floor shuddering, about to collapse . . .
The vibrations faded.
Panting, he rose to his knees. Half the parking structure was gone, stubs of support pillars poking up through a swirling dust cloud. Beyond, where two gleaming skyscrapers had stood, was nothing but a vast, chaotic pile of smoking wreckage.
The two Chinese soldiers could not possibly have escaped. All he could hope was that Macy had. He ran to the side of the car park to look for her.
She and Cheng were nowhere in sight – but the fortress now hovered over the park below, its closest point just metres away. It turned as it slowly descended, facing him. For a moment he thought it was going to finish the job and bring down the rest of the structure with its guns, but then it continued around, pointing back the way it had come, and halted, underbelly about ten feet above the ground.
Several Nephilim warriors in colourful armour ran towards it from the north. They headed for the hovering dragon’s midsection, where part of the craft’s edge curved down to just a few feet above the ground, forming steps up to the top of the hull where the open hatch awaited.
They were leaving. That meant they’d got whatever they were after—
Anger surged as he saw the leading warrior carrying something more than his weapons. The key! Nina had escaped with it . . . but now they’d got it back. He looked past the Nephilim. No sign of her. If they had killed her . . .
Even as the terrible thought came, he had already decided they weren’t going any further. He unslung the launcher and swung its handgrip into firing position. From here, he could blast a rocket right through the broken throne room window and kill everyone inside—
Military pragmatism kept his finger off the trigger. The fortress itself was the threat, not whoever was inside its control room. If he killed them, others would take over. He needed to cripple the dragon, and with its shield still shimmering, he couldn’t guarantee that. Not with a single shot. Even though the Type 08 was an anti-armour weapon, the fortress was a hell of a lot bigger than a tank.
He needed something more. But where would he find anything, trapped on top of a car park?
A low, churning rumble gave him the answer.
The abandoned concrete mixer stood not far away, its drum still turning. The truck was relatively short, to let it navigate the car park’s ramps, but it still had four axles. It was carrying a lot of weight . . .
He shouldered the launcher again as he ran to the truck and climbed into the cab. He had driven heavy vehicles during his army training; the controls were standard. Releasing the airbrakes with a hiss, he put the mixer into gear and slowly accelerated, making a turn.
The devastated ruins came into view. He drove towards the parking structure’s ragged edge, getting as close as he dared before slowing. He felt the slabs beneath the wheels shiver, but he needed as much of a run-up as he could get.
A half-turn, and he straightened out and stopped. The fortress was now out of sight below the wall at the end of the deck. He pushed the driver’s door open, then readied himself. Clutch pedal three-quarters down so as not to engage the clutch brake, into gear, then he revved the engine, the big diesel roaring in response.
The power built. He watched the rev counter rise towards the red zone – then released the clutch.
The truck leapt forward. A brief dip on the clutch to keep the engine from stalling as the revs plunged, then he re-engaged. A second lurch, but the diesel held firm. Accelerator ha
rd down until the needle reached the red, up into the next gear, then again—
The wall rushed at him, the fortress coming into sight beyond. He kept going for another few seconds – then leapt from the cab.
Another hard landing on unyielding concrete. His elbow cracked painfully against it as he rolled, the launcher skidding away from him. The driverless concrete mixer roared on, engine note dropping sharply without his foot on the pedal, but still moving too fast to stop—
It smashed through the wall, sailing out from the parking structure’s highest floor – and plunged towards the hovering fortress below.
From his vantage point at the broken window, Gadreel saw his warriors returning. They had the key; now he could not only revive his people here, but find the rest of them in their long-hidden prison . . .
A new noise reached him, mechanical – coming from above. Another flying machine? He looked up, seeing nothing in the sky, but it sounded very close—
The half-collapsed building’s upper wall exploded as a huge, bizarrely shaped chariot burst through it.
It smashed down on to the fortress. Everyone within was thrown off their feet as the impact pounded the vimana’s nose into the ground. The shrill and crunch of tearing metal echoed terrifyingly through the throne room.
Gadreel was flung against the wall, striking his head. He put a hand to it as he stood, feeling the sting of a cut. Zan lay sprawled nearby, the others in the room all dizzily recovering. The floor was still canted. ‘Bring us level!’ he ordered as he returned to the window.
To his shock, he saw the chariot embedded in the fortress’s bow. The large drum it carried had split open, a thick grey slurry gushing across the hull and into the holes it had torn.
One of his men hurriedly retook the controls. Crystals glowed as more power flowed through them. The vimana struggled to rise, the chariot’s weight straining its inner structure still further. More metal groaned – and he heard the sharp crack of crystal splitting apart below.
The Resurrection Key Page 40
