The Storm (NUMA Files 10)

“Marchetti?”

“Hang on,” he said.

They were still descending way too fast. Marchetti was pulling back on the controls, and the horrible sound of untold numbers of metal machines eating rang in her ears. The descent began to slow, the craft leveled and skimmed across the park, narrowly missing a tree covered top to bottom with the invading horde.

Finally they began to rise, climbing slowly as they crossed the island’s threshold and moved out over the ocean.

“Fly the airship,” Marchetti said to his chief. “Keep our speed up. Keep us close enough for a signal lock on Wi-Fi.”

“What are you going to do?” Gamay asked.

“I have to set up the computer,” he said.

“The computer?”

He nodded. “Just in case your friend actually knows what he’s doing.”

CHAPTER 58

THE HORRIBLE FEELING OF EVENTS SPIRALING BEYOND HIS control filled Joe Zavala with dread. The dive boat above was being pulled toward the breach where it would go over the falls in a fatal manner. And since he was attached to that boat by a steel cable and an air hose, Joe would soon follow.

Cutting the cable and the hose wouldn’t help. He couldn’t swim to the surface. Even if he dumped the weight belt, he had fifty pounds of gear on his shoulders and feet.

His feet touched down, he tried to set them but was picked up and pulled sideways once again.

“Give me more line!” he shouted. “Quick!”

He saw the boat high above, saw the phosphorescent wake behind the boat as it fought the current, angling this way and that as the pilot tried to keep its nose aimed upstream. Any side turn would be the end of them as they’d be swept away in a matter of seconds.

Finally Joe felt some slack in the line. He dropped onto the slope and began to scramble over it. He found a large boulder, half the size of a VW or even a VV.

Marching around it, he wrapped the steel cable against its bulk.

“Tighten the cable!” he said.

The cable pulled taut, constricted around the boulder and all but sung in the depths as the slack was used up. The boat up above locked into place.

“We’re holding,” the major called down. “What happened?”

“I made you an anchor,” Joe said. “Now, tell me someone up there knows what centripetal force i

s?”

Joe was holding tight. The cable was looped around the boulder but threatening to break.

“Yes,” the major said, “the supervisor knows.”

“Point the boat toward the rocks, take a forty-five-degree angle if the cable holds, then you should slingshot to safety. Beach the boat, and don’t forget to reel me in.”

“Okay,” the major said, “we’ll try.”

Joe held the cable tight, putting his steel boots up against the boulder.

The boat above changed course and began to move sideways. Like the Earth’s gravity directing the moon, the steel cable caused the boat’s path to curve and accelerate. The boat cut through the current and was flung forward.

A twang sounded through the water. Joe felt himself tumbling backward.

The cable had snapped in two.