Authors: Jon Land
Fires of Midnight (36 page)
But the extra length of Krill’s arms proved too much to overcome, and Wareagle felt his neck starting to give against the determined resistance of his powerful muscles. A crack followed which sent a burst of tingly static down his spine and turned his legs rubbery. He tried to lurch backwards, but Krill took advantage of his move by thrusting out with both arms against him.
Johnny realized he was airborne only in the instant before he landed hard on the calm lagoon surface. He sank into the black water and instantly splashed back upward. Krill’s toss combined with the currents had spilled him ten feet from the barge. Even from that distance Johnny could see the monster approaching the mortar tubes with another of his canisters in hand. A series of powerful strokes got him back to the barge and, as he reached a hand over the edge to help pull himself up, the first fireworks of the evening shot into the sky, fired from far down the row of mortar tubes.
The sudden burst of brilliant light from above sent Krill’s hands clinging to his eyes. The second deadly shell he had pulled from his bag went clattering to the deck and rolled away. Krill staggered, eyes lost behind his palms. Johnny pulled himself back atop the barge as another half-dozen mortar tubes spewed their initial shells simultaneously.
M
cCracken continued to fire barrages of bullets, salvaging a weapon from another downed Group Six man everytime the one he was wielding was
exhausted. He and Harry zigzagged their way down Main Street U.S.A. toward the front of the Magic Kingdom where the rest of the Key West Irregulars continued to make their stand.
cCracken continued to fire barrages of bullets, salvaging a weapon from another downed Group Six man everytime the one he was wielding was
exhausted. He and Harry zigzagged their way down Main Street U.S.A. toward the front of the Magic Kingdom where the rest of the Key West Irregulars continued to make their stand.
A mad figure in a bathrobe rose above them atop the train station, holding submachine guns in both hands. Blaine could see the bloody splotches staining Sandman’s white robe and knew he was ready to go to sleep for the last time. He dashed ahead of Harry toward a concentration of Group Six men pouring fire Sandman’s way.
Before he could get there, the Irregulars he recognized as Jim Beam and Jack Daniels rushed the enemy from behind and cut them down just as Sandman at last fell backward. Blaine swung to his right at the sound of fresh gunfire in time to see Papa emerging in a sprint from City Hall. Bullets traced him from both levels and dropped him in the middle of the street an instant before the entire building went up in a fiery blast, taking out untold numbers of Fuchs’s men.
“Shit,” Harry moaned, leaning over Papa’s body. “
Shit
!”
Shit
!”
He let go with a wild fusillade just as Blaine reached him.
“Come on!” Blaine urged, yanking him upward.
“It ends here, Captain!” Harry screamed between rounds.
“No, it doesn’t, Harry. Not even close.”
J
ohnny Wareagle slid silently across the barge beneath a sky bursting with light, skirting between the mortar tubes jettisoning their magic contents into the air without pause. He could see instantly that Krill was still blinded by the resulting bursts of light. The first few rows of tubes that had yet to fire must have contained the more elaborate, climactic American flag display, which would explain why Krill’s deadly shell had not been fired off yet.
ohnny Wareagle slid silently across the barge beneath a sky bursting with light, skirting between the mortar tubes jettisoning their magic contents into the air without pause. He could see instantly that Krill was still blinded by the resulting bursts of light. The first few rows of tubes that had yet to fire must have contained the more elaborate, climactic American flag display, which would explain why Krill’s deadly shell had not been fired off yet.
Just as the monster seemed to finally be adjusting to the wash of light filling the night sky, the bright spray from double rows of Roman candles erupted in a constant stream. He screamed and stumbled, barely holding fast to his third shell, the second teetering dangerously close to the barge’s edge.
Krill’s attention was so rooted on the mortar tubes that he never noticed Wareagle had reclaimed the barge. Johnny attacked by springing
through
the Roman candle spray. The lunge sent agony down his spine, centered in his neck, which had locked solidly in place.
through
the Roman candle spray. The lunge sent agony down his spine, centered in his neck, which had locked solidly in place.
Krill was lowering his third shell blindly toward another of the mortar tubes when Johnny slammed into him from behind, ignoring the wrenching pain that came on impact. Krill flew over the tubes and crashed to the barge’s surface between rows of mortars that began to erupt instantly again. The shell flew out of his hand and rolled into the water. Silhouetted by the dazzling light, Johnny grasped the tube in which Krill had loaded his first shell and tore it from its mounts.
Krill roared and threw himself on Johnny just as the mortar plopped into the water. Their struggle took them back in front of the first rows, a flurry of blows finding Wareagle despite the monster’s watery, half-closed eyes. Behind Krill he could see the first rows of mortar rubes finally come to life, and almost instantly the sky showed the forming shape of an American flag. The shells lifted off one after the other without pause, spreading into red, white and blue designs that stitched a pattern in the thick night air.
For Krill they didn’t exist, too bright to see. But he didn’t have to see Johnny to double him over with a fresh series of savage strikes with fists that felt like cannonballs. A few stung Wareagle in the neck and his legs simply dropped out, the feeling gone in them. Sensing his vulnerability, the blinded monster leaned over and felt for something to grab on to. His hand grasped the Indian’s coal-black ponytail. Krill yanked hard and drew Johnny upward, a desperate animal pouncing on its prey.
The sky continued to explode with color, shells rising upward with loud pops from the mortar tubes, joined now by the nearest row of Roman candle spray kicking up white sparks.
As soon as he was upright, Wareagle threw his chest forward and rammed Krill to throw him off balance. Johnny then pushed off with what little his legs would give him, enough to stagger the monster backward toward the sea of hot, sparkling white. Krill seemed to realize the Indian’s strategy and tried to lurch forward. But his feet slipped slightly on the wet surface of the barge and then deserted him altogether. He fell backwards, flailed his arms about desperately for purchase on something to hold on to.
Then the light swallowed him. His eyes exploded in agony in the instant before the heat ate at his flesh. He screamed and lunged away.
Blinded, he lurched straight into the path of a trio of mortar tubes in the first row which fired their shells simultaneously into him, turning the monster into a shroud of blinding, fizzling color. His mouth opened for a scream that never came; his arms stretched impossibly wide to each side, shaking as if electricity was pulsing through his body.
Johnny collapsed to the barge’s deck and watched as Krill caught fire. All at once, the flame became an inferno that dropped for the water. The monster’s upper body had just flopped over the barge’s starboard side when his huge bulk simply locked in place. It spasmed once and then lay still. The stink of burning flesh continued to assault Johnny’s nostrils as Krill’s legs smoldered, and he watched the shape of the unfinished flag etched against the skies over the Magic Kingdom.
S
al Belamo had emerged from the Jungle Cruise only to be caught in the initial swell of panic, twisted about and carried by the crowd. He managed to extract himself briefly before being stampeded by another rush which separated him from his pistol. The force of the crowd actually carried him along, his feet barely touching the ground. It was all he could do to remain
upright. Suddenly one of his legs got tangled in a thicket of limbs and he went down hard, scrambling to avoid being crushed by the advancing hordes.
al Belamo had emerged from the Jungle Cruise only to be caught in the initial swell of panic, twisted about and carried by the crowd. He managed to extract himself briefly before being stampeded by another rush which separated him from his pistol. The force of the crowd actually carried him along, his feet barely touching the ground. It was all he could do to remain
upright. Suddenly one of his legs got tangled in a thicket of limbs and he went down hard, scrambling to avoid being crushed by the advancing hordes.
The feeling of relief Sal felt upon escaping the mobs was short-lived. As soon as he tried to stand upright, an excruciating pain shot through his ankle.
“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, exasperated. He was in no shape to join McCracken in the battle raging up the street now and had no weapon, even if both legs had been functional. Further, it didn’t seem as if his presence would mean very much anyway. McCracken needed more help than Sal could provide alone under even the best of circumstances.
That didn’t mean he was giving up. There
had
to be something he could do.
had
to be something he could do.
He leaned back against the fence overlooking the dinosaurs to take the weight off his twisted leg. Turning, Sal found himself just about eye level with the robotic T. rex.
A thrill surged through him.
“Why not?” he asked out loud. “Why the fuck not?”
T
he lights from the uncompleted flag began dying in the air, returning the sky over Fort Samuel Clemens to relative darkness. Joshua Wolfe sat huddled atop a rampart gazing upward. He had already pulled the vial containing the remainder of CLAIR from his pocket and pinched it between his knees. Taking deep breaths to steady himself, he twisted the vacuum sealer off and carefully extracted the tube of the compound he had created at Group Six. He removed the top from it as well and, after only the shortest of pauses, poured it into the vial already two-thirds-full of CLAIR.
he lights from the uncompleted flag began dying in the air, returning the sky over Fort Samuel Clemens to relative darkness. Joshua Wolfe sat huddled atop a rampart gazing upward. He had already pulled the vial containing the remainder of CLAIR from his pocket and pinched it between his knees. Taking deep breaths to steady himself, he twisted the vacuum sealer off and carefully extracted the tube of the compound he had created at Group Six. He removed the top from it as well and, after only the shortest of pauses, poured it into the vial already two-thirds-full of CLAIR.
The effort brought the resulting compound dangerously close to the top. Josh knew it would take several minutes for the chemicals to mix and the proper reaction to take place within the unbreakable space-age polymer. He screwed the vacuum seal back in loosely, fidgeting with it until he was confident it would pop off if forced from his hand.
Let Fuchs come after him now. Just let him … .
Why wait to release the vial’s contents? What was the difference? His life was over anyway. He belonged to Fuchs and the others like him, men who wouldn’t be happy until the means of life and death was in their hands. Josh could give them that and the world would be an even more fucked-up place as a result. Might be doing that same world a favor if he ended things right now, saved humanity the bother of a miserable future.
“Josh? Can you hear me, Josh?”
The colonel’s voice echoed through the stillness of the night, coming from somewhere nearby, as more fireworks exploded overhead.
“Go away!” Josh yelled back.
“I know what you’re thinking, son. I know I’ve gone about this the wrong way. My apologies. Mistakes have been made. The excitement of what you had to offer us got the better of me, I’m afraid. So let’s discuss new terms. No more threats, no more ultimatums. Come back to Group Six. Work on any project you want. If you choose to help us in our pursuits, splendid. If not, I will support your decision.”
“I’ve mixed them together, Colonel!”
“Son—”
“I’m not your son! Dr. Haslanger’s maybe, but not yours!”
“Josh, calm down, I beg you. I know you hate me. But the action you are considering is worse than any deed I could ever perform. So what does that make you?”
“As full of shit as you are,” Josh said over the fort’s top, letting the wind take his words.
“The world needs me, Josh. It needs Group Six. As unfortunate as that may seem, it’s true. I did not make this world and I do not control it. But with your help we can make things better. Come back to Group Six and refine CLAIR. Figure out ways to feed the world and power the vast machines which have multiplied out of control. Accept the challenge!”
“Go to hell.”
“You think giving up is the answer? It’s not. You have my word, Josh. No more games. Keep the formula with you if you so choose, but come with me. I can take you away from the madness. Group Six can lift the burden that is tearing at you. You belong with us. There is no other alternative.”
“You’re forgetting one.”
“Let me come in. Let us talk face-to-face.”
“Don’t even think about it.”
“I’ll give you a few minutes to think about it. Relax a little.”
“I’m giving you ten minutes. If you and your men aren’t gone, I’m going to release the formula.”
“Of course, young man. Of course.”
Fuchs turned away from the fort and raised the walkie-talkie to his lips. “Do you have a clear shot or not?”
“Affirmative, sir,” replied one of the three snipers in position in the trees overlooking the fort. “But he’s still holding the vial. If we shoot him and he drops it …”
“Damn.”
“He’s not going anywhere, sir.”
“But we may have to, unless, unless …”
“Sir?”
“If I can’t talk him down, maybe there’s someone else who can,” Fuchs said, formulating a new plan as more fireworks burst through the air.
T
he party in the temporary Dinoworld control room had been going full blast since dusk, when the robotic T. rex and Stegosaurus had been shut down for the night. Even Stacy Eagers herself could not believe how smoothly things had gone. Not a single glitch over the twelve-hour shift, and crowd excitement had exceeded even her expectations.
he party in the temporary Dinoworld control room had been going full blast since dusk, when the robotic T. rex and Stegosaurus had been shut down for the night. Even Stacy Eagers herself could not believe how smoothly things had gone. Not a single glitch over the twelve-hour shift, and crowd excitement had exceeded even her expectations.
Totally oblivious to the chaos that was occurring above them, her six-person staff was in the midst of drinking yet another toast to the massive creatures when Stacy noticed a stranger had entered the room, a short, sinewy man with a bent nose and callused ears.
“You ask me, they don’t pay you people enough. Great work, let me tell you.”
“How’d you get in here?” Stacy wanted to know, trying to steady her thinking.
“Negotiated with the guard,” Sal Belamo replied, producing a pistol.
“He lent me this.”
Stacy suddenly didn’t feel drunk anymore. “What’s going on?” “What’s your name?”
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