Flood Rising (Jenna Flood #1)

Jenna was not inclined to argue. Cray shook his head and then led Jenna and Mercy from the room, gun at the ready. “Stay close,” he said, not looking back.

Over the mechanical hum of the transmitter, the sound of a pitched battle rolled up from below. Soter’s security detail was putting up a fight, defending the transmitter building, but there were only four of them. Four against at least six shooters. Worse, there was only one way out of the building, and it went right through the middle of the fight. Jenna looked at Mercy, hoping to see some indication that she knew what Cray was doing, but Mercy’s blank look told her otherwise.

Jenna felt a return of the helplessness she’d experienced in Miami when she had boarded Soter’s helicopter. She didn’t even have a gun to defend herself. Her survival depended on Cray’s choices, and that was intolerable.

She was about to tell Cray that when he did something unexpected, turning away from the exit, toward parts of the building they had not visited.

“Where are we going?” It wasn’t simple curiosity that prompted her question.

“There’s another way out,” Cray said. “Through the transmitter room.”

Another way out was good. “Won’t they be watching all the doors?”

“Probably.” Cray didn’t break stride, but kept moving toward the source of the persistent thrumming sound. They passed through a maze of corridors, in and out of rooms lined with strange electronic devices, pieces of machinery and shelves packed with bound books and thick three-ring binders.

Cray stopped at a door that was plastered with signs. There were hazardous materials diamonds and cartoon lightning bolts accompanying a warning of high voltage electrical hazards, the familiar black-on-yellow radiation trefoil and strangest of all: a notice reading ‘Liquefied gas coolants in use.’ Cray turned the knob and shoved the door, but entered cautiously, sweeping the room beyond with his gun barrel. After a moment, he waved for them to follow.

The noise emanating from the room was deafening, drowning out even the sporadic report of gunfire. Jenna scanned the room for the hazards indicated in the signs. Everything she saw was unfamiliar and full of dangerous potential. There were large cylinders marked with more hazmat diamonds, and a machine that looked like it belonged on the weapon’s deck of a star cruiser from a science fiction film. One corner was dominated by an enormous cube-shaped machine that seemed to be the source of the noise. The dull gray metal sheathing the device was adorned with still more warnings of radiation danger. Next to it was yet another door, this one marked with a sign that said ‘Danger: High Voltage.’ Jenna peered through the wire-lined glass window and saw another enormous room and at its center, a strange yellow pillar wrapped in wires, sprouting from a metal donut-shaped base. It looked like a scaled-up version of the Van Der Graaf static electricity generator in Jenna’s science classroom.

“Please tell me we’re not going through there.”

Cray shook his head and moved toward the opposite wall. A large metal roll-up door was set in the concrete, big enough to accommodate a truck. He reached for the pull-chain that would open it, when a loud concussion tore through the room like a thunderclap.

Cray staggered, falling against the door. A bloody Rorschach pattern was left on the metal where he’d hit. But he wasn’t dead. Cray pushed away, turning with his gun raised, and he fired several shots toward the door through which they had entered.

Jenna pulled Mercy down, seeking refuge behind one of the work benches, as bullets creased the air, filling the room with the stench of burned gunpowder. The walls exploded with chips of concrete dust and sparks, as rounds ricocheted off metal surfaces. The gunman pushed into the room, firing as he moved, trying to get a clear shot at his real target. Another man stood at the entrance, firing at Cray to keep him pinned down.

The significance of this was not lost on Jenna. Soter’s security force had almost certainly been defeated by the overwhelming numbers of the assault team. There was no one left to defend her now.

Another round caught Cray, spattering the wall behind him with blood, but he kept firing, chasing the first shooter in a desperate bid to stop him from reaching Jenna.

There was a sound like a bell being rung, followed by a hiss of escaping gas. A bullet had penetrated one of the pressurized gas cylinders. White vapor spewed into the air.