“Atomic batteries to power,” Doc muttered softly to himself. “Turbines to speed.”
Only Mildred snorted a laugh at the allusion.
“We’re out of here,” Ryan said, twisting the steering wheel and working the stick shift. With a crash, Leviathan plowed a path through the metal circle, windshields shattering and APCs shoved aside as they headed for the exit.
Chapter Four
As Leviathan started to rumble forward, two hellhounds darted out of nowhere. They hit the front windshield in unison, and the iron bars shuddered under the double impact. Black muzzles snapped less than a foot from Ryan’s face, and he could actually see down their throats. Muscular tentacles wrapped about the protective gridwork, and their front paws clawed at the glass, scratching the resilient surface of the military composite.
Blaster in hand, Krysty started to roll down the side window when she spotted a barbed tail hovering low alongside the door. “Shit! They’re waiting for us to try and get them!”
“Hold on!” Ryan growled and he slammed on the brakes. Tires squealing, the supplies went hurtling forward as the tank screeched to a halt, throwing the dogs off the hood. Instantly, Ryan hit the gas and the massive vehicle surged forward once more. A hellhound hit the spiked front bumper, its bleeding form stuck there caterwauling in pain. The other fell out of sight, but Ryan felt the big vehicle bump over something that crunched.
“The others are backing off,” Dean said, watching from an ob slit. “They’re… yep, they’re gone.”
“Flanking us,” Jak said, moving to the starboard .50-caliber machine gun. “What’s belly height?”
Working the bolt on the port Remington, J.B. said, “Good foot and a half.”
“Don’t let them get underneath us!” Ryan ordered from the front
“Check!”
Doc and Mildred rushed to the louvered rear door and shoved the muzzles of their handblasters out the downward slats.
“Hey Dean!” Krysty called.
Dean glanced at the woman.
“Here, use this!”
The youngster caught the shotgun thrown his way. It was a beauty, a pump-action 12-gauge. The stock was polished walnut and the shoulder strap was lined with spare shells.
Krysty jerked a thumb. “It was in the gunrack. It’ll do more damage than your Browning.”
Nodding his thanks, the boy pumped the scatter-gun and shoved the barrel out a slot.
Ahead of them was a large hole in the redoubt wall, a curved opening almost exactly the size and shape of Leviathan. Ryan eased on the gas and slowed for a moment to correct their alignment. They had a clearance of only inches. He had to go in dead center or risk scraping off some of the external equipment. The coldhearts had to have planned to remove the radar and missiles pods before trying this stunt. But that option wasn’t available to them now. The bastard hellhounds were much too loyal to their dead masters, and too freaking smart.
“A camel through the eye of a needle,” Mildred commented.
“More like two pounds of muck in a one-pound bag,” J.B. countered, adjusting his fedora. “If it gets any tighter, we’ll need to grease the walls.”
“Too bad the lights are working,” Krysty said, measuring the tunnel and the girth of the tank with her hands. “Then you could concentrate on their placement on the far wall as a guide.”
“Mebbe next time,” Ryan said, slowing their speed and thinning their fuel mix. The diesels were sluggish, and needed to warm.
Smoothly engaging the transmission, Ryan backed a yard, then, as slowly as possible, entered the tunnel.
Immediately something scraped noisily overhead, and everybody looked up, weapons in hand.
“It’s only the radio antenna,” J.B. said, relaxing. “Or the missile holders,” Dean added, looking worried.
In the front gunner’s chair, Krysty tapped the instrument panel with a knuckle. “Missile pods are on-line and showing green. No damage.”
“Yet,” Jak said, seeming more glum than usual. “Luckily, the coldhearts labeled everything in plain English.”
“Yeah, lucky.”
With a hand on the gearshift, Ryan said nothing but clenched the steering wheel even tighter. Once more the oversized tank rolled ahead at a snail’s pace. The scraping continued, sounding louder than before. Then there was a crunch from above, and the tunnel behind them went dead black. Ryan stopped fast.