Subterranean

In near panic, he jerked Jason forward, causing the boy to yelp and stumble. Before Jason hit the floor, Blakely grabbed a fistful of shirt and pulled the child back up. But it was too late…

The pile of boxes just behind his heels tumbled down as a scream of anger erupted. The boxes were being tossed aside like toy blocks. In moments it would be on them. Searching in front of him, he could see Roland nearing the door. Scooping up Jason, Blakely tried to race forward, but his old knees couldn't manage with the boy's weight. His breath burned in his chest.

Jason seemed to sense this and squirmed. "Put me down. I can run."

Not having the breath to argue, he dropped the boy and willed him speed. The boy was a rabbit, off and running as soon as his sneakers touched the ground.

Blakely took a step in pursuit when a tumbling crate knocked him forward, pinning his legs. He let out a loud cry as he slammed into the floor. Struggling with his arms, he pulled frantically at his legs. Jason had stopped several yards ahead and turned. The boy took a step toward him.

"No!" he yelled. "Run! I'll catch up!"

With a crash of splintering wood, a reptilian snout burst into the row ahead, snapping at the empty space between Jason and Blakely. It hissed and wrenched its neck in the direction of Blakely's penlight; with massive shoulders, it tried to push itself farther through the wall of boxes. Blakely scrambled for his shotgun, but it had skittered beyond his fingertips. As the creature lunged at him, he twisted to the side as far as his pinned legs would allow. Luckily, it was enough.

The snout brushed his shoulder, missing him. The head collided into the crate atop his legs, bouncing it off of him. Not waiting, he rolled away. His instinct was to cram himself between the boxes, but they refused to budge. Trapped, he prepared to make a desperate run after the others.

The beast snarled and hissed, drawing back for a second attack. As the beast's neck tightened to strike, Jason bounced in front of it, twirling his gym bag in circles.

Startled, the beast froze.

The boy used his entire upper body to slam the bag forward, cracking the creature solidly on the nose. Its head flew back from the force of the impact.

Blakely didn't wait. "Run!" Adrenaline ignited his heart, fueling a hot panic. He bolted forward, grabbing his shotgun in one hand. He pounded down the aisle. Jason, agile as a monkey, raced ahead. The creature thrashed behind him as it tried to extricate itself from the piled boxes. He kept running, oblivious to the strain. His sight fixed ahead.

Bright light exploded in front of him.

Roland had reached the other exit. He stood silhouetted against the glare, waving them on. "Hurry!" Roland yelled. "It's coming!"

Blakely tried to increase his speed, but his legs began to buckle. He stumbled to his knees. The sound of crashing boxes got closer. Blakely heaved to his feet, lightheaded and wobbly. Then a sharp pain, burning like bile, blossomed in his chest and shot down his left arm. His heart.

The room tilted… blackness tried to swallow him up…

Suddenly Roland was there, supporting him. He allowed himself to be dragged, knowing he should protest, insist that they leave him. But he was too weak to utter a sound. They tumbled as a group through the exit.

Jason kicked the door shut behind them.

As they limped away, a bellow of rage erupted from within the Quonset hut. Claws gouged metal as it tried to rip after them.

Blakely, his hand tremoring, pointed forward. "The noise'll attract more of them."

They hurried back toward the center of camp, abandoning any hope of reaching the elevator. Gunfire burst sporadically around them. Clouds of smoke billowed in the cavern breeze. Near the north end of the camp a fire burned, flames flickering halfway to the ceiling. They stumbled across the camp, hiding from every sound.

Resting in a sheltered doorway, Roland was the first to speak since the ordeal. "Where do we go? They're attacking from all directions."

"No," Blakely whispered hoarsely. "They're only attacking from land." Wheezing, he pointed toward the lake.

His aide nodded. "It could be safer there. If we could get a boat, get on the water…"

Jason spoke up. "What if they can swim?"

Blakely tried to joke. "Then we better get a speedboat. Let's go." He pushed off the stairs. The slow pace across the base had allowed him to recuperate enough to proceed on his own. With Roland leading, he and the boy followed. With a little luck…

Then, from around a corner, one of the reptiles, a smaller one, muscled and scarred like a street bully, burst into their path-only six feet away. It crouched and hissed at them, bristled hackles raised.

Blakely raised his shotgun and blasted wildly. The creature howled and took a step backward, a bloody gouge torn from its right flank. Roland fired, shredding its upper arm, spinning it away.

"Move!" Roland screamed, grabbing Blakely's shoulder and Jason's arm. He shoved them toward a narrow alley between the mess hall and a wooden dormitory. "Run!"

Scrambling away, Blakely heard the rapid explosions of Roland's pistol fire and a loud crash, wood splintering. Then silence.

In a heartbeat, Roland was beside him again, hooking an arm around Blakely so they could travel faster. "I knocked it down, but it's getting back up-

A trumpeting of red anger buffeted them from behind.

"In here," Blakely said between gasps for air, indicating the dormitory.

"It could break in. We'd be trapped again."

"No, follow me." Blakely led the way into the dormitory, empty and silent except for a radio rasping an old show tune. "This way." Limping across the recreation room, he waved them to follow.

A pool table with torn green felt sat empty, a cue leaning against it as if the player had stepped out for a smoke. A pinball machine pinged and blinked in a corner.

"Where are we going?" Roland asked.

"Motor pool… get transportation." He nodded toward the hall that exited the room.

His assistant nodded. "C'mon."

A window exploded behind them, shards of glass spraying everywhere. The pursuing beast, bleeding from several wounds, landed with a thud. The worn pool table blocked its path, diverting its attention, buying them the seconds needed to escape into the hall. The creature attacked the table like wounded prey, stripping it apart with tooth and claw.

"Through here," Blakely whispered, pushing open a side door. The garage reeked of burned oil and spilled gasoline. His tiny light scanned nothing but open space. Then he spied a single Ford Bronco in the last stall. One of the few regular trucks still remaining since the arrival of the electric Mules. Thank god. They might still have a chance.