nto the muddy road, where a wall of wind and rain caught them, throwing them to the ground and rolling them twice before it abated.
Paul got to his feet and caught his first full view of the chaos below, what had been Ceuta only seconds ago.
He saw the expression on Mary’s face, and that steeled him enough to grab her, turn her around, and yell, “Run.”
CHAPTER 13
The explosions were less frequent now, but David and Kate still ran cautiously.
“What could do this?” David asked.
“A tsunami could have washed the mines into the ship.”
David’s mind flashed to his conversation with Sonja. A tsunami—at the exact time of the Immari global attack? He didn’t believe in coincidences. “Ares and Dorian did this.”
“How?”
“The ice in Antarctica. They melted it. Does the ship there have any weapons?”
“No. Wait. It has emergency mines for asteroids and comets.”
“Could they melt ice?”
“Definitely. Comets are mostly ice.”
“How do you know that?”
Kate slowed her pace. “I don’t.” She thought for a second. “I know it because she did. That’s weird.” The tidbit about comets had come naturally to her—like her own memories. Previously, when she had cured the plague, she had focused on the science; remembering her Atlantean counterpart’s knowledge had been an effort.
“Let’s keep moving,” David said.
They raced through the corridors, occasionally stopping to grab a bulkhead when an explosion rocked the ship.
At the surface, David instantly sensed how bad things were. It should have been morning, and the sun should have greeted them, but it was dark, almost pitch black, and he couldn’t see a single star. The sound of destruction was complete: waves crashed into the rocks below, buildings crumbled in the distance, and thunder echoed across the sky and in their chests.
They stood for a moment, the hard-falling rain numbing them.
David leaned over and shouted, his voice barely audible against the clamor. “Get below. I’m right behind you.”
He ran into the clearing, past the pallets of supplies. At the base of the mountain, at sea level, the crumbling ruin that had been the fortress of Ceuta was sustaining an onslaught beyond imagination.
The base was almost completely submerged; only a few buildings jutted out, but they were falling fast.
The jet that would have carried them away lay overturned, several hundred feet from the runway, which was also flooded.
The rain came in sheets, and David fought to keep it out of his face and his eyes open.
From his peripheral vision, he saw movement. Milo and Sonja. They ran to him, and the three of them took cover under the trees, just past the clearing. The wind gained steam, forcing each of them to reach for a tree, holding tight, bracing as it picked up speed.
“I came up to look for you,” Milo shouted.
“That was smart,” David said. “You did good.”
Sonja leaned close to his ear. “It would seem we’ve underestimated our enemy.”
“Badly.”
Behind them, David heard a sucking noise that seemed to drain all the air and sound away. The rain nearly ceased. Through the darkness, he saw a wall of water rising, bearing down on the mountain. It would wash over it, taking everything—and everyone with it.
Paul could feel the cool water level rising, moving up his legs, like a countdown to his and Mary’s death.
He tried to pump his legs faster, but it was like doing water aerobics in the shallow end of a mountain lake.
Mary was falling behind.
“I need to stop,” she said, bending over to heave breath after breath.
Paul tried to estimate the distance to the top of the peak. Two, maybe three hundred yards?
The rain had almost stopped. Maybe the massive storm was ending. But the water still crept up his legs—it was almost to his knees now. If it leveled out eventually, maybe they could swim to land, pausing to rest by hanging on to the tree tops or floating debris from Ceuta.
But if the water topped the mountain, their only option would be to find something to make a raft out of and try to make landfall further inland. But where would the new coastline form? Miles, hundreds of miles away?
A sound, over the ridge—like the Earth was taking a deep breath. Paul could feel the wind rushing past him, flowing out to sea.
“Come on,” he grabbed Mary’s hand and pulled her toward a ridge, pushing his legs through now knee-deep water. It was all Paul could do not to reel back when he saw the wall of water rushing over the sea.
He thought Mary was going to release his hand for a moment, but she squeezed harder.
Paul looked from the mountain to the valley—which was fully submerged. They could run back, try to get under water, hold on to something. Would that be safe? He had absolutely no idea.
Or they could run to the mountain top. If the wave topped it…
He made his decision.
He tugged at Mary’s hand, and she followed as fast as she could, not saying a word.
He pushed harder, feeling her strength draining as well as his own.
Finally, she fell in the water, and Paul jerked her up. “Keep going,” he said, wrapping his arm around her, half-carrying her as her legs walked and kicked the water.
Ahead, the forest stopped and a clearing spread out. It wasn’t the top of the mountain, but…
Figures, moving, heading toward a rock outcropping.
“Help!” Paul yelled. He released Mary, and she collapsed into the water on her hands and knees. Paul rushed forward, waving his arms back and forth in the air. “Hey!”
The figures stopped, then two of them were racing towards him, cutting through the water with breathtaking speed. The man was tall, over six feet and well-built. A soldier. And so was the woman, though she was trim, her skin dark caramel.
The man put his shoulder into Paul’s stomach and hoisted him up, holding him by his legs while speeding back to the clearing, only slightly slower with Paul’s added weight. Paul saw the woman lift Mary the same way, and then they were close behind them.
A skinny Asian teenager with short black hair was grabbing small packages out of massive crates stacked on pallets in the clearing.
“Time to go, Milo,” the man called.
He set Paul down, and the woman released Mary. Their rescuers ran full on toward a rock wall and… disappeared.
The Asian teenager stopped just before it and waved his hand. “Come on.” He turned and walked through the rock.
Paul and Mary charged after them and right through the wall, which was clearly a hologram of some kind.
The area beyond was almost pitch-black, save for a tiny glowing yellow light at the end of the tunnel, like a train in the far distance.
“Come on!” A voice ahead of them called.
Paul again grabbed Mary’s hand, and they lumbered through the dark on their exhausted legs.
The impact of the wave was deafening. Paul felt as though he were in the barrel of a gun that had been fired. The blow threw him and Mary against the left wall. They rolled to the ground, and water rushed over them. The shaft was on a downward incline. It would fill…
Paul again felt hands on him, and he was up, floating through the shaft, the soldier carrying him.
The yellow light grew brighter and the splash of water louder until he saw a set of doors part, and the five of them were out of the shaft, into an elevator of some sort. The man worked a panel that closed the doors quickly, but there was still three feet of water in the elevator. He seemed not to care. The lights in the elevator flickered, and it shuddered a few times. Paul wasn’t sure if it was losing power.
He leaned against the wall, trying to take stock of his injuries. He hurt all over, and his muscles throbbed. It was hard to isolate any particular malady.
“I’m Paul Brenner,” he said, to no one in particular.
“I thought you might be,” the soldier said. “I’m David Vale.”
“Thank you for saving us… twice.”
“No problem.” He stared at the water. “Just doing my job.”
The teenager smiled at Paul. “I’m Milo.”
The elevator doors opened, emptying the water into a dry hallway where a woman stood. Paul recognized her. He had seen her in months of videos during the Atlantis Plague clinical trials, talked to her several times on the phone, but he had never seen Kate Warner in person until this moment.
CHAPTER 14
Paul unfolded the crisp, dry clothes Kate had provided and began stripping off his soaked shirt and pants. He threw them on the narrow bed and used the pillow to sponge some of the water off his body. He was so soaked he wondered if he’d ever be dry again.
“You knew about this?”
Mary was staring at him, still wearing her own soggy clothes, ignoring her clean set on the desk. They were alone in the small bedroom, and her voice boomed in the space.
“I did.”
“When