Darius waded in, throwing punches with sufficient force to cave in Queen’s skull should any of them find their mark. She evaded them and struck back with a leg kick to the inside of his front knee. A low grunt was the only indicator that he’d felt any kind of pain. For her part, Queen hoped she hadn’t fractured a bone in her foot. The man’s legs were like tree trunks.
She slipped another of his punches, flattened her hand like the blade of a knife, and drove her fingertips into his eye. Darius roared and swung a wild back fist that she took in the shoulder, but it was still powerful enough to stagger her. Sensing an advantage, Darius charged.
Queen spun out of the way and tripped Darius as he passed, sending him tumbling to the ground. She realized a split-second too late that this was what he had been counting on. He hadn’t been trying to take her down at all. He was going for her gun!
She leaped onto his back just as he was rising up on all fours. Lightning fast, she locked her legs about his waist, clamped her arm around his neck, and squeezed. She felt him try to tuck his chin but he was too late. Her arm was over his windpipe, and she was putting all she had into the choke.
She expected him to roll over and try to fight his way out of the chokehold, but instead he slowly, but surely, climbed to his feet. He was stronger than she would have believed. He took hold of her arm with both hands and pulled. Queen held on with everything she had, knowing it was now a race against time. If Darius managed to break her grip before he lost consciousness, she might be too spent to keep up the fight.
Darius thrashed about, making Queen feel like she was riding a bucking bronco. Then, without warning, he hurled himself backward, slamming Queen into the wall. Her backpack lessened the impact slightly, but the air was forced from her lungs in a rush. I can’t catch a break, she thought as she gasped for breath. Darius dashed her against the wall again and her head struck, sending a torrent of pain shooting through her skull and down her spine.
He’s got to be almost out by now, she thought, and tightened her grip on his thickly muscled neck. Her arms burned from exertion and her head felt like Humpty Dumpty after the great fall.
Darius staggered forward and let go of her arm with his right hand, still working with his left to loosen her grip. For a moment, Queen thought he was losing consciousness, but then her eyes fell on what lay on the floor a few steps away. Her Mark 23. If Darius got hold of it, he’d kill her, and if she released her grip on him, there was no way she’d beat him to the weapon.
“Oh hell no you don’t!” Nearly out of options, she bit down on his ear as hard as she could. Salty blood filled her mouth as her teeth bit through flesh and sank into gristle. Darius grabbed at her head, all thoughts of the gun forgotten. She shook her head back and forth like a pit bull. Darius’s fingers brushed her head, but his strength was ebbing fast. He made a low, wheezing sound and, at long last, sank to the ground unconscious.
Queen rolled off the man, spat out a mouthful of blood and gristle, and lay gasping on the floor. Every muscle in her body felt like water. She was spent, but she had to go on. Still panting from exertion, she stood on trembling legs and recovered her weapon. She spotted the handle of her knife jutting from the chest of the oborot and she moved to retrieve it when she heard the most unwelcome sound imaginable.
Oborots were coming.
Lots of them.
Chapter 13
Spewing every curse she could think of, Queen took off running away from the sound of the pursuing beasts. She turned a corner, burst through the double-doors that barred her way, and found herself in a laboratory. Every metal surface was polished to a high sheen, and walls, ceiling and floor were all snow white. To think such evil could have been done here was beyond her ability to comprehend.
Lining the shelves to her left were glass containers where brains and other body parts were preserved. Beside the shelf were industrial sized containers of formaldehyde. She knew what she had to do.
Her eyes alit on an emergency exit on the opposite side of the room, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She made a beeline for it, reaching into her pack as she ran and fishing out another grenade. She broke through the door and found herself in a deep, narrow concrete shaft. A single security light glowed a sickly yellow, revealing iron rungs leading up to the trapdoor. Queen made some hasty calculations and, without allowing time for second thoughts, activated the grenade, pitched it back into the lab in the midst of the containers of formaldehyde, and started to climb.
One…
Her palms seemed to stick to the cold metal as she climbed.
Two…
Her arms, weakened by the fight with Darius, moved robotically, driven more by her determination than by any remaining strength.
Three…
She had perhaps two seconds remaining before the grenade blew, and she was only halfway to the top. Roaring out a battle cry, she clambered up like a spider, recklessly hurling herself from rung-to-rung. If she lost her grip, she would die.