Armageddon Heights (a thriller) (34 page)

‘You’re forgetting we have another team out there,’ said Napier. ‘I arranged to have the room monitored. I knew this is where it would come to a head. You’re finished.’

Lindegaard swept up to the table and swiped his hand across it, sending the various pieces of equipment crashing to the floor. He stamped on the VDU with his foot and the screen gave a fizz and went blank. He kicked the scrambled mess of plastic and metal away with a loud scream of rage. His face assuming a blistering puce colour as he punched Napier in the stomach, the blow coming with unexpected force. It winded him and he clutched the point of contact. ‘I’ll find them!’ Lindegaard said. ‘I’ll find every last one of them and kill them! Give me the gun!’ he demanded of Jungius, and the silent wall of a man gave it to him. Lindegaard shoved the end of the gun’s barrel into Napier’s mouth. Then he slowly removed it. ‘No, that would be too easy. Jungius, give the hypodermic to Mr Napier here.’

Napier glanced uncertainly at Lindegaard as Jungius held out the full syringe of tremethelene.

‘Inject her, Robert,’ Lindegaard ordered.

‘I will not!’ he said.

‘You think you have the better of me? You clearly don’t know me. I have power, Robert! Money buys power and influence. I’ll get out of this.’

‘No you won’t,’ said Napier evenly. ‘And you know it. You’re done for.’

‘Inject the bitch!’ he said. ‘I want to watch you kill her. I want to watch you suffer before I pull the trigger on you.’

Napier shook his head. ‘You bastard, Lindegaard. Go ahead, kill me. I’ll never do that.’

‘Do you really want Jungius to do it for you? He can, but he’s not going to be half as considerate. He’ll administer the full syringe and you know the terrible effects that will have on her. It will be a slow, agonising death. However, if you do it, then you can give her enough to make her slip into sleep and die peacefully. The choice is yours.’

‘You’re sick, Lindegaard,’ Napier said. ‘You’re getting some kind of perverted pleasure out of this.’

‘Do it!’ Lindegaard ordered, the lids pulled back from his manic eyes.

Jungius held up the syringe. A streak of light shot up its length as he moved it closer to Napier. Closing his eyes briefly, taking in a deep breath, Napier took the syringe from Jungius, the liquid inside shimmering. Napier’s hand trembled.

She felt suddenly very faint, staggered a little, her shoulder crashing into the wall of the tunnel. Her legs were weak, and her vision blurred, the world spinning. She gave a soft moan and put a hand to her eyes, rubbed them.

‘You okay, Keegan?’ Wade asked, supporting her arm as she slumped down. ‘Keegan, you hear me? Are you okay? What’s wrong?’

Something had happened up top, she knew that. A sudden glitch in the system. Caused by what? It unnerved her for a moment, but her senses gradually seeped back. ‘I’m fine,’ she lied. She was seeing the world in black and white and it danced every now and again. But gradually the colour faded back in and her vision settled down, the strength returning to her legs. She pushed him away. ‘I’m fine, Wade.’ She couldn’t hide from his concerned expression. ‘Really I am.’

‘How far now?’

Keegan sucked in a breath. They’d been fortunate in meeting little resistance along the way, Cain’s men being channelled towards the fighting with the Sentinels. They heard it clearly. It sounded like Lindegaard’s men were having a hard time of it. Her nagging worry was that they’d give up and pull out. She wanted one of their armoured personnel vehicles. It was their only way out of this place, providing secure transport across the Heights to Erewhon. By her reckoning, night was also due to fall soon, and with nightfall came the bonesnappers. As Wade said, the odds weren’t good. They couldn’t survive for long down here, and on the surface, without transport, they were dead meat, succumbing either to the intense cold or to the savagery of the night creatures. When she told him of her plan to commandeer one of the vehicles, he simply took in the information, digested it for a few seconds like any soldier facing odds he had no option but to take on, and nodded.

She pushed open a door. It opened out onto a large, domed cave-like room, and they were suspended high above it on a crude narrow bridge made out of recycled metal and wire. It stretched one hundred yards or so across a vast chasm below them, cloaked in complete darkness, and they had no idea how far it fell or what lay at the bottom. Stalactites hung down from the roof of the cave like the decaying teeth of some mythical behemoth. Her voice echoed around the structure as she spoke.

‘Across the bridge, through the arch at the other end. We take the ladder up to the next level. We’ll find the room there.’

They heard a series of deep growls interspersed with high-pitched shrieks that came from somewhere in the inky blackness under them.

‘What is that?’ Wade said.

Keegan set off across the bridge. ‘You don’t want to know,’ she said, the bridge swaying to her urgent feet. ‘Nightmares you can only guess at. Come on, quickly. We have to get out before nightfall.’

They reached a dead-end, a tall ladder stretching up a metal tube-like shaft into the unseen, beyond the dull light of a flickering oil lamp. Wade unhitched the lamp from its bracket. ‘I’ll go first. What will I find at the top?’ he said.

There’s a trapdoor. It’s unlocked. But be careful. You never know what’s on the other side. If it’s clear we take a sharp left. The room should be off to our right. How are you doing for ammo?’

‘Down to my last clip of thirty rounds,’ he said. ‘A few bullets for your old rifle, and one rocket for the AT4. Not exactly an arsenal, is it?’

They climbed up the ladder, the darkness ahead seeming to go on without end, their muscles aching by the time they finally reached the roof of the shaft and a round trapdoor some twenty minutes later. Wade glanced at Keegan, readying his automatic rifle before reaching up and pushing the weighty trapdoor open a fraction. The tunnel seemed to be empty, so he clambered out, helping Keegan do the same.

No sooner had they got their bearings in the gloomy light than shots rang out, the flashes of the explosions causing them to fall to the ground behind the inadequate cover of the trapdoor lid. Bullets sang as they pinged off the metal. Two Sentinels ran headlong towards them, lamps on their helmets giving away their positions. Wade doused the oil lamp and fired into the dark, and Keegan got off a few shots with the rifle. They heard one of the Sentinels dropping to the ground with a scream, the other backing off, firing blindly as he did so. But Wade’s next burst felled the second Sentinel and the passage dropped eerily quiet.

They paused, breathing hard, the tunnel in almost total darkness save for the light of the dead Sentinel’s helmet lamp shining up at the murky ceiling. Wade dashed over to the body. The man had been hit in the head, blood pumping out of a hole just above his right eye. In no time at all, Wade had slipped the lamp off the helmet and shone it at Keegan as she found two hand grenades in the dead man’s pouches. She abandoned the old rifle and checked over the Sentinel’s automatic, checking the pouches for more bullet magazines and finding two.

‘We ought to check the other,’ she said.

‘No time,’ Wade said pointedly. ‘Let’s get going. There may be more on the way.’

Rising to their feet they ran headlong down the corridor, checking out that the coast was clear before taking a sharp dogleg to their right. They heard gunfire echoing down the passages, but fortunately, the room wasn’t under guard.

‘Their attention is elsewhere,’ Keegan noticed, listening to the commotion not very far away.

‘Sure that’s the door?’ said Wade, not waiting for an answer but going up to it and pounding on it with his fist. ‘Is anyone in there? It’s me, Wade!’

Silence.

He tried the handle but the door was locked. ‘It’s another empty room, damn it, Keegan!’ he burst.

‘Samuel! It’s me, Amanda!’

The voice was faint and tremulous.

‘Are the others with you?’ Wade asked, the relief on his face plain to see.

‘Yes, we’re all here. Get us out, Sam!’

‘Stand well away from the door!’ he demanded. ‘I’m going to blow the lock! Try to protect yourselves, lie down and curl up tight!’

He asked Keegan for a grenade, which he jammed into the handle. ‘Back!’ he shouted, and both he and Keegan ran for cover. The grenade exploded with a deafening crump, and they returned moments later to see hazy shadows emerging through the smoke that swirled around the busted door. Amanda Tyler was first out. She threw her arms round Wade’s neck.

‘Oh thank God!’ she said, sobbing. ‘Thank God!’

Lauren Smith and Jack Benedict stumbled out behind her.

‘Cheryl won’t come,’ said Benedict. ‘She’s back there, scrunched up into a ball. She’s going crazy.’

Wade rushed over to her. Cheryl’s huddled, frightened, childlike form was caught in the harsh beam from the lamp. She regarded him with terrified eyes, as if he’d stepped out of her nightmares. She’d been clawing at her face and blood ran from the many deep gashes her fingernails had left.

‘You’ve gotta come with me, Cheryl,’ Wade said, holding out his hand. She scuttled further away from him and shook her head violently. Her entire frame was shivering. ‘Please, Cheryl. It’s not safe here.’ He got down onto his haunches. ‘I’ll protect you…’

‘We’re in hell,’ she said. We’re in
hell!
’

‘I can’t argue with you there,’ he said. ‘But we’re going to someplace better. Keegan is going to get us there.’

She broke down, her tears diluting the streaks of blood. ‘Keith promised to protect me, look after me, but he never did.’

‘I’m not Keith,’ he assured, again reaching out to her. ‘Come on, Cheryl. We don’t have much time.’

‘You promise? You promise to protect me?’

‘You have my word.  I promise.’

Her damp slim hand slipped between his grimed fingers and he pulled her to her feet, putting an arm round her. ‘You’re going to be just fine. Just you wait and see.’ He handed her over to Amanda. ‘Okay, Keegan, your call; where do we go now?’

‘First you and Jack have to change into the Sentinel’s uniforms,’ Keegan said.

‘Why?’ said Jack.

But Wade didn’t need to ask. He saw her plan. ‘Do as she says, quickly,’ said Wade, and he dragged the young man over to the first dead body.

‘It’s covered in blood,’ Jack said, horrified.

‘You’ll get over it. Get stripped and put these fatigues on. I’ll get you a weapon from the other dead man.’

‘I can’t fire a gun! I’ve never done such a thing!’

‘First time for everything. If you want to see your girlfriend safely out of here then you’ll learn fast.’

‘What if they don’t fit me,’ he said, unfastening the soldier’s uniform.

Wade looked up at Keegan, her face pale in the lamplight. ‘I somehow bet they will. It’s all to do with archetypes…’

‘Archetypes?’

Keegan flashed Wade a fleeting smile.

‘Quit the jawing!’ Wade demanded, winking at her in return and running to the second dead soldier. He started the task of stripping off his uniform.

Long minutes later they were ready, Wade fastening the helmet’s strap under his chin. ‘Ready?’ Keegan asked impatiently. Wade nodded.

She led the way, Jack Benedict directly behind her, Amanda in tow holding onto Cheryl, Lauren giving her a hand, with Wade as tail-end Charlie bringing up the rear, checking there was no one on their heels. Keegan paused at a T-junction, holding up her hand for everyone to stop and be quiet. She signalled to Wade, who came dashing to the front.

‘What is it?’ he whispered close to her ear. He could smell her skin, temporarily distracted by it and the accompanying thoughts.

She indicated with her thumb to her right. The tunnel was littered with dead bodies, all Cain’s men. ‘Down there, see?’ she said. ‘That flight of steel steps leading steeply upwards. That’s the exit we want.’

He poked his head round the corner. The empty brass cartridge cases littered the ground around the corpses, glittering like pieces of gold in the light from the open trapdoor. ‘I see it,’ he breathed quietly. ‘I don’t see anyone near it. I’ll check it out, call you up. Wait for my signal. Cover my back.’

With that he loped at a crouch down the tunnel, every now and again seeking cover where he could find it, but there was no one to be seen. The fighting had been intense. He counted eight bodies, and there looked to be more up ahead, beyond the shaft of light falling from the trapdoor in the roof. As his eyes grew accustomed, some distance away he made out a huge pile of earth and rocks blocking the tunnel and realised they were on the other side of the cave-in that Lindegaard’s men had caused on first entering. They’d managed to evade their pursuers so far, but he reckoned from the sounds of gunfire they weren’t far away, desperately trying to locate them.

He waved for Keegan to bring everyone up. She gave a silent signal and the line of sorry-looking people wended their careful way through the carnage littering the tunnel’s floor.

‘I’ll take a look topside and see what the situation is,’ said Wade. ‘Same again – I’ll signal, you follow.’

Keegan nodded her assent. ‘Careful, Wade. Their vehicles are not going to be that far away.’

‘Jack,’ said Wade. The young man came up to him. He looked dreadfully nervous, his face pale and drawn. ‘You take the rear. They’re going to be our prisoners.’

‘That won’t work!’ he said. ‘They’re sure to spot that old chestnut!’

‘It’s all we’ve got. I just need it to work long enough to get to one of those transports. Sometimes the tried and trusted works the best. Trust me. We got you this far, didn’t we?’

His sigh was heavy with foreboding, but he gave a series of quick nods. ‘Sure, I’ve got it.’

‘And you remember how to fire that thing if you need to? Remember what I told you?’

‘I think so.’ Jack Benedict studied the weapon in his untried hands.

‘He’s got it,’ said Lauren, touching Jack on the arm.

‘Great,’ said Wade. ‘Keep an eye on the tunnel – we don’t want them sneaking up on us. We’re not out of the woods yet.’

At that he ascended the steps, slowing down as he approached the open trapdoor. He looked up at the sky. It was starting to get dark, and he felt chill air on his upturned face. Poking his head cautiously outside, he surveyed the scene around him. Silhouetted against a backdrop of plum-coloured mountains and a beautiful, blood-red sky, he saw both armoured personnel carriers, still and brooding on the flat expanse of desert. They were three hundred yards or so apart. The one to his right was guarded by three men, indistinct in the fading light. There appeared to be just the driver in the one parked to his left. He signalled down the steps to Keegan, calling her up.

‘Three hundred yards apart. There are three men at the one on the right. We head for the left-hand transport. Not sure if it’s just the driver at home. I’ll get out first – give the AT4 to Jack. Christ, I hope this works.’

Keegan passed the anti-tank gun down to Benedict who held the weapon gingerly. ‘What am I supposed to do with this?’

‘Hang onto it for me,’ she said. ‘When I tell you, give it back to me fast. And whatever you do, don’t touch any of those damn buttons. It’s loaded and you’ll blow us all to pieces.’

‘Oh Jesus!’ he said.

‘Right, follow me out,’ said Wade. ‘Remember, you’re my prisoners.’

He clambered out of the trapdoor, and immediately there was interest from the three men near the transport. A voice floated over to him, shouting something he couldn’t quite catch. His mouth sponged dry, Wade waved his gun in the air, pointed to the hole in the ground as first Keegan and then the others filed out and onto the desert, their shadows long and jagged, sweating, dirty faces painted scarlet by the lurid sunset. Jack Benedict emerged last, as ordered, the AT4 looking cumbersome in his inexperienced hands.