Fast (40 page)

            In a second the return fire came.

            Marble flakes blasted off the fountain and sliced through the air. Vanessa protected her face from the hundred marble razor-flakes zipping in every direction. A big chunk of marble dropped away from the side of the fountain and released a surge of water and a surprised red gold-fish.

            The gold-fish hit the floor and slapped around.

            The firing stopped.

            A marble flake had clipped Vanessa’s earlobe. She touched the cut then checked her fingers for blood.

            Coleman listened carefully, trying to predict Bora’s next move. Vanessa darted out her hand and caught the asphyxiating gold-fish. She slipped the fish back into the fountain.

           
If only everyone’s life was that easy to save
, thought Coleman, wishing he could just scoop everybody up and carry them away.

            He glanced back to King’s position behind the marble coffee table. The entire area around King was decimated. All the furniture was destroyed except the marble tabletop. It was the single house left standing after a twister. Covered in bullet craters, the edges of King’s cover had disintegrated under the intense firepower. Bullet damage had completely eroded away the top corners.

            Third Unit were outnumbered and pinned down. Returning to the cafeteria kitchen or the dormitories was impossible. Coleman searched desperately around himself. Nothing he could use to alter the balance of the skirmish presented itself.

            And then, in one second, everything got much, much worse.

#

Coleman groaned as a third force joined the skirmish.

            The creatures had arrived.

            Attracted to the gunfire, three creatures rushed from the dormitory corridor. They stopped
right between
Bora’s team and Third Unit, between the pallets and the fountain.

            Then a forth creature emerged.

            Then a fifth.

            Their fire had drawn the creatures like iron filings to a magnet.

            Coleman gave the ‘hold fire’ hand signal. Every eye watched the creatures. Coleman and Vanessa lay completely still. She lay closer to the creatures, but Coleman could see them over the lip of the fountain.

            The creatures weren’t moving. They had frozen, apparently confused by the abrupt halt of the vibrations attracting them in the first place.

            Everyone had ceased fire the moment the creatures arrived. Coleman hoped the terrorists would be careless enough to fire first and attract the creatures, but he knew it was a long shot. Bora knew exactly how the creatures worked. He wouldn’t make that kind of mistake.

Nobody moved. The area had become a silent graveyard in less than two seconds.

            Coleman’s mind raced. No one could shoot for fear of attracting the creatures. Should Third Unit seize the opportunity and try to withdraw in full view of the terrorists who couldn’t dare fire? If the creatures sensed their vibrations, Third Unit might be forced to retreat under full fire from the terrorists. They’d be slaughtered. Coleman truly had no idea just how sensitive the creatures were to vibrations.

            All their lives, the genetic material, maybe the future of the free world, depended on which direction the creatures chose to attack, from which direction they first sensed prey.

            Seconds passed as everyone kept perfectly still.

            Coleman winced as a piece of marble
plopped
into the fountain’s second tier. The creatures stirred, but didn’t advance. If the marble had hit the floor instead of the water, it might have been different.

            Coleman lifted his head and looked over the fountain. Beyond the creatures, Bora stared back at him.

            Even across the distance, Coleman saw Bora raise his eyebrow -
What now?

            Then Bora’s eyes darted past Coleman.

            It was Sergeant William King.

            King rose slowly from behind cover. His eyes searched the pallet train until he found Bora. He pointed squarely at Bora and then deliberately traced his thumbnail over his own Adam’s apple. The message was plain to everyone.
I’m going to kill you.

            For a second Coleman thought King was daring Bora to shoot at him, then King carefully laid his weapon on the floor. Feet planted solidly, he reached out and lifted a fallen chair by its two front legs.

            He’s not…? My god, he is!

            Amazed, Coleman watched as King twisted his body and hurled the chair at the terrorists. It was a colossal effort. The chair spun gracefully through the air, arcing silently over the creatures.

            The terrorists gaped at the incoming chair in jaw-dropping disbelief. The simplicity of the attack was genius. King was using the chair like a laser-guided missile. The chair was the laser, the creatures were the missiles.

            The chair
smashed
down among the gunmen.

            Coleman actually saw Bora’s expression the moment the chair splintered apart. It was the conductor’s face when someone farted in the orchestra - frustration, disappointment, and then face-twisting anger.

            As the chair flew apart, Bora was already up and running. His men ran right behind him.

            The five creatures charged the seven gunmen, drawn first by the smashing chair and then by the seven pairs of fleeing boots.

            ‘Fall back! Fall back,’ Coleman heard Bora yelling. The creatures reached the pallets. Bara’s men were in full retreat, only turning to sporadically fire at the creatures as they fled east along the pedestrian loop.

            Coleman raced to Forest. King knelt beside the wounded Marine, pushing aside a piece of splintered timbre as he unclipped his first-aid kit.

            Coleman thumped King’s shoulder. ‘Good thinking, you magnificent bastard.’

            King didn’t answer as he worked on Forest’s arm.

            ‘What happened?’ asked Forest.

            Vanessa gently squeezed Forest’s other arm. ‘King ran out of bullets so he started throwing furniture.’

            ‘That’d surprise them,’ said Forest, trying to peer around the marble block at the retreating terrorists.

            ‘Hold still for a second,’ urged Coleman. ‘Let King put the bandage on.’

            ‘The wound looks clean,’ reported King. ‘No bone fragments. Looks like it went straight through.’

            Coleman nodded, half keeping his attention on the fleeing terrorists who were reaching the far end of the level. They had taken down one creature, but the four others were closing in. Bora retreated into the movie cinema occupying the north-east corner of the level. Two gunmen stopped at the cinema door, turned and fired, but the creatures were already reaching them.

            King had a look of righteous satisfaction on his face as he watched the terrorists retreat into the cinema. ‘Let’s see how they like being chased for a change.’

#

When Bora saw the big black Marine throw the chair, he knew they were in deep trouble.

            ‘Fuck off,’ he breathed in shocked amazement as the chair sailed through the air. The single wooden chair changed everything.

            Bora had the Marines pinned down. He’d wounded at least one. He had the larger force. He had the superior firepower. He was seconds away from securing the templates and leaving this shit-pit hole in the ground that the Americans loved so much.

            And then?

            And then the black giant had thrown the god-damned chair. The chair smashed straight down behind the pallets and destroyed every advantage Bora had gained.

            In fact, it had done a lot more than that. Bora’s situation grew more desperate every second.

            Now he was in full flight, sprinting for his life.

            He ran into the cinema, crashing his shoulder into the swinging doors. The doors sprang open into the short corridor beyond.

            ‘Hold these doors!’ he ordered.

            Two gunmen spun to face the charging creatures, lifting the weapons, firing.

            Bora dashed six paces down the corridor and barged through a second set of double doors.

            He ran straight down the main aisle between twenty rows of seats. A slight incline led down to the screen. Confused, he spun on the spot, searching for the second exit. Forcing the creatures to pursue through the bottleneck cinema corridor only worked if they could find another exit….

There’s no exit anywhere!

            ‘Check behind the screen,’ he shouted, shoving one gunman down the aisle towards the screen.

            The gunman jerked across the curtain. He slashed the screen with his combat knife. Solid wall showed behind.

            ‘Nothing! There’s nothing here!’

            The two gunmen flanking Bora raised their weapons towards the cinema’s front entrance.

            Bora keyed his radio. ‘Gould! I’m in the cinema. I need an exit, a crawl space…anything!’

            There was no answer. Bora hoped the cinema walls weren’t blocking his radio signal.

            ‘Answer me, Gould! I’ve got incoming hostiles!’

            Gould’s voice came unhurriedly over Bora’s headset. Bora sensed Gould had been listening the entire time. ‘I’ve got nothing for you, Bora. There’s no other exit. Think about it. You’re in the corner of an underground Complex. It’s a dead end. The only way out is the way you came in.’

            Bora almost spat he was so angry. Gould’s monsters were causing the problem in the first place. He said harshly, ‘Well turn something on to draw them away. They’re right on top of us!’

            ‘There’s nothing to turn on where you are,’ Gould replied calmly, almost jovially. ‘All the systems are disabled on the habitation level. We should have left long ago.’

            Bora watched the two gunmen holding the outer doors.

            They fired fully-automatic bursts at the approaching creatures. Behind them, two more gunmen held open the inner doors, their weapons ready, but unable to fire around the two forward gunmen.

            Through the aperture framed by the twin doorways, the creatures were a solid wall of thrashing thorns charging the cinema. Bora’s men couldn’t focus on a single target. They jerked their weapons left and right, trying to slow down the charging wall. The creatures would overrun them in seconds.

            The roar of weapon fire sounded deafening in the acoustic cinema.

            Still firing, they backed away, preparing to abandon their defensive position at the outer doors.

            Bora couldn’t blame them, but he couldn’t save them either. They’d left it too late.

            With the hostiles just five meters away, both men’s weapons clicked empty.