“We’re smashing the lights,” J.B. said, listening to the glass shards sprinkle along the sides of the tank
“Shitfire. We need darkness ahead of us, not in our wake!”
Grimly, Ryan slid the transmission into gear. “Watch for the dogs! Shoot at anything… no, just randomly shoot!”
Dean promptly fired the Mossberg shotgun out the rear doors, paused, then fired again in an irregular pattern.
“Wasteful,” Jak grumbled.
“Necessary,” the Armorer snapped, adding a .50-caliber burst from the Remington. The big slugs rained along the tunnel, hitting nothing.
Every foot seemed to take an hour. The tension grew thick in the vehicle, but nobody dared to speak, trying their best not to distract Ryan from the delicate task. At the first narrow turn of the zigzagging maze, Ryan jockeyed the tank back and forth, each maneuver gaining him inches until they could make the corner. But the next turn of the antiradiation maze was set impossibly close to the first, and Leviathan resoundingly rubbed against the rough walls, grinding off chunks of the concrete.
Yard by yard, scraping at every turn, Ryan eased the gigantic vehicle through the tunnel until, finally, it cleared the last turn. Now before them was a length of straight tunnel that would take them to a set of massive vanadium-steel doors. The expanse of burnished metal was widely smudged with dark soot in an unusual flowery pattern. The only clean area was a small metallic keypad that twinkled silvery in the headlights.
Ryan released his death grip on the steering wheel and flexed his hands to restore circulation. “Those are black-powder blast marks.”
“The coldhearts must have tried to blow their way out,” J.B. said from a rear seat.
“Idiots. Those doors are nuke-proof,” Mildred scoffed, “and they thought powder was going to open them?”
“Desperate men will try anything,” Krysty remarked. “An animal will chew off its own foot to get free from a trap.”
“But if they got in,” Dean said, “the same code would let them out, right?”
“Yes,” replied his father. “Their leader must have got lucky and figured out the access code. When he got chilled fighting over who would own the Leviathan, that was it for everybody.”
“They did it to themselves. The damn fools.”
“Damn dead fools.” Ryan started to unbuckle his safety harness, but Krysty stopped him.
“I’m faster,” she said and was out the side door before he could respond.
“Fireblast!” he cried, “Everybody to the ports. Give her cover!”
Ryan hit the controls, turning on every light they had, as blaster barrels extended from every port. Sprinting to the wall, the redhead rapidly punched in the access code, then turned and headed for the tank.
A flurry of blasterfire from the side .50-caliber machine guns cut loose and the woman crouched low, both hands gripping her S&W revolver. She had no idea what they were shooting at. The blasters were pointed low, the rounds glancing off the concrete wall. Then from under Leviathan came two hellhounds, the nightmare beasts springing straight for her. The crossing streams of heavy slugs caught one and brutally cut it in two. The undamaged animal retreated into the darkness, while the wounded dog writhed grotesquely, still trying to reach Krysty, the tentacles and paws dragging along the bloody hunks of dying flesh. Standing, she kicked the animal out of the way with her silver-tipped boot and scrambled into the safety of the tank.
“Thanks,” she said, locking the door tight
J.B. tipped his hat. Partially hidden by the large pile of supplies in the middle of the vehicle, Mildred flashed a smile. “No prob,” she said, patting the boxy breech of the Remington. “Feeds a bit slow, but it’s much better than my Czech revolver.”
“Here we go,” Ryan announced, shifting gears. The massive steel portal had risen into the ceiling with the sound of oiled gears and smooth hydraulics. Brilliant sunshine poured into the tunnel. Ryan accelerated out of the darkness, and the tank was engulfed in a blinding glare. Nothing could be seen through the windows. Then, incredibly, the glass tinted, dimming the light to bearable levels. “Dean, jump out and punch in the code to close the door,” Ryan ordered. As the youth did his father’s bidding, the rest of the companions covered Dean until he was safely back on board. When the door had finally descended, the entrance to the base was a solid sheet of sand-colored alloy, the squat dome resembling an outcropping of granite. Leviathan was only a short distance away, and the friends found it difficult to pinpoint the entrance.