Pinned underneath, the trapped sec men cursed and beat their fists on the steel plating as the smell of shine from the leaking fuel tank got stronger. Then Dean hit the wag with a Molotov and the vehicle was engulfed with flames, the curses changing into shrieks of terror as the fuel ignited and spread toward the crumpled pod full of Firebirds.
“Gonna blow!” Jak warned through cupped hands.
Realizing their plight, Ryan and J.B. tossed away the launcher and raced past the burning Hummer to rejoin the others and head quickly down the ramp into the subway tunnel. Hopping over the turnstile, they rushed to the edge of the departure platform and looked quickly around for any indication of the redoubt. The only illumination was a weak shaft of reflected sunlight coming down the ramp. Nothing unusual was in sight. Soda machines, benches and pay phones dotted the long platform. On the walls of the tunnel, a vista of mosaic tiles depicted people playing on the beach, the picture gently sloping into a high vaulted ceiling.
“What now?” Mildred asked.
Before Ryan could speak, the whole station shook under the trip-hammer blast of the detonating Firebirds. The titanic concussion blew down the ramp like a hurricane and knocked the companions off their feet. Too close to the edge, Mildred was thrown off the platform to land sprawling across the predark train tracks with her face resting on the third rail.
Gasping in horror, Mildred recoiled from the contact, braced for death, only to remember there couldn’t possibly be any power flowing through the rail. But trained responses were hard to break. In her time, even this brief a contact would have been utterly lethal, the dreaded third rail carrying more hard current than a federal penitentiary’s electric chair.
“Got to find the redoubt,” Dean said, starting to light the pressurized camping lantern.
Ryan stopped the boy. “No lights,” he ordered, withdrawing into the darkness.
Heart still pounding, Mildred rose stiffly and shuffled into the stygian darkness beyond the shaft of sunlight pouring down the stairwell.
Then bright lights filled the ramp, and a Hummer bumped its way through the twisted ruin of the grating and rolled slowly down the sloped ramp. Then it surged with speed to ram through the turnstile and screech to a halt at the edge of the platform.
“Over there!” a voice cried out, and the .50 cal started chattering, the big slugs ricocheting everywhere in the confines of the tunnel.
Moving fast, the companions took cover in the darkness of the subway tunnel, splashing through the ankle-deep water and kicking the rats out of the way.
The parallel beams of its headlights washing along the tunnel, the military wag rolled to the edge of the platform, and Mitchum set the brakes but kept the engine running.
“Think we can make that?” he asked aloud.
The corporal at the .50 cal scowled. He really wasn’t sure about anything after seeing the obliterated Hummer lying in pieces in that blast crater upstairs. Damn outlanders were trickier than an old baron, and meaner than a two-headed snake,
“Don’t know, sir,” the corporal replied honestly. “Might bust an axle. But we could winch a wag down.”
“And give them a wag to escape in?” the colonel muttered. “Fuck that. We’ll stay here.”
Suddenly, lights flashed from the ramp and the second Hummer rolled to the platform and parked along the first. But not so close that if one exploded, the other would also be destroyed. The sec men had learned the hard way to be wary of the one-eyed outlander and his crew of coldhearts.
“Orders, sir?” the driver of the second Hummer asked softly.
The private standing at the .50 cal nosily worked the bolt on the massive rapidfire as a preparation to fire.
“Stay where you are and shoot anything that moves,” Mitchum commanded, removing the predark revolver from his shoulder holster and stepping from behind the windshield. The sec man stood there for a while listening to the sounds of the underground passageway before speaking. As long as he stayed behind the headlights, the beams should blind anybody out there to his exact presence.
“Ryan! I know you’re there!” Mitchum shouted, the words echoing into the darkness. “Surrender, and I’ll make your death quick and painless! That’s a promise!”