Exodus, page 37
Simon gazed down the long tube. The people huddled in small groups around tiny fires that barely staved off the chill that permeated the ground even as deep as they were. Many of the people curled up in blankets or big coats.
“How many volunteers?” Simon asked.
“Thirty-two.”
“Did we have enough to feed them?”
Wertham nodded. “We did. But we can’t keep scavenging enough by hand to feed a group like this. We’re going to need a fleet of lorries before long. And go farther to get it.”
“I know.”
“If we don’t run out of food, we’re going to be found out.”
“I know.”
“And we’re running out of space on the train.”
Simon sighed and felt exhausted. Hopelessness flickered within him again. When the idea had first occurred to him—to update one of the abandoned pulling engines in one of the storage spurs in the Paddington Nation Rail line and use the train to take survivors from London—it had sounded easy.
Now, with the successful arrival of every newcomer, it edged back toward impossible.
“I know that, too. Is there any good news?”
Wertham grinned. “We’re still alive.” He offered a toast with his water bottle. “To luck and pure hearts.”
Simon echoed him, touching his bottle to Wertham’s briefly before they drank.
Knuckling stew from his beard, Wertham looked at Simon. “Have you slept?”
“Yeah.”
“When?”
Simon shook his head. Ever since he’d stopped going outside the tube and had concentrated on making the necessary adjustments to the pulling engine, he’d lost all track of time. He figured the HUD could tell him, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been inside his armor, either.
“I can’t remember.”
“You need to get more rest.”
“I will,” Simon said. “As soon as we get these people out of here.”
“How soon before they have the engine converted over?”
“A few hours. A few days.” Simon shook his head. “I don’t know. McCorkleson doesn’t know either.”
Ian McCorkleson had proven a godsend. He was an old man, in his late seventies, but still had a mind as sharp as a tack. He couldn’t do all the physical labor himself now, but they’d recruited able bodies from the volunteers to help with the engine refitting.
All his life, McCorkleson had worked on the trains as a mechanic. He’d even been one of the first to help design the MagnaPUSH electromagnetic engines that were supposed to be the wave of the future. Japan and other countries had already started using maglev trains, but those depended on current running through the rails.
Instead of being powered by electricity, the MagnaPUSH engines operated by accessing the natural electromagnetic fields of the earth, cutting the operations costs dynamically. Plans had been in motion to start converting the pulling engines over the next ten years. The technology had still been on the drawing boards in the commercial shops.
But Templar technology had always been more developed than the rest of the world. The Templar had planned to fight the war against the demons if they ever came, and they’d enlisted the brightest minds to their cause. The Templar designers had been using NanoDyne technology a score of years before MagnaPUSH had become a reality.
Simon had worked with the NanoDyne engines, experimenting with them on skateboards he’d built. Some of the maglev skateboards had been released on the market, but none of them were anywhere near as powerful as the ones Simon had designed. But he had learned nearly everything there was to know about harnessing the power available through them.
The Templar had gotten the NanoDyne engines from some of the unmanned Templar Underground. After the massacre at St. Paul’s Cathedral, several of the area’s Templar compounds were seriously undermanned. Or totally abandoned. That had been part of the intent as well, making sure there were enough supplies left behind for the survivors to be able to stretch over a period of years if they had to.
McCorkleson hadn’t believed how sophisticated and compact the engines that Simon had provided had been. Part of the problem was figuring out a way to properly balance and place the engines so they wouldn’t tear loose of their housings the first time they were powered up. They’d had to reinforce all of the structures.
“McCorkleson wants a few more days to test the engines,” Simon said.
“You had it up off the rails yesterday,” Wertham said.
Yesterday. Simon couldn’t believe that had been yesterday. It seemed like only a few hours ago.
“The balance wasn’t right. We’ve got that corrected, but he wants the housings tweaked.”
“Personally, I don’t think we have days,” Wertham said. “We’re going to run out of resources for these people, get discovered by the demons, or get overwhelmed by refugees.”
“If we have to wind the engines up, and escaping the city will probably mean that, they could leave us behind. Or self-destruct.”
Wertham thought about that for the moment. “I can see the problem with that.” His brow wrinkled. “But if we don’t leave soon, we’re either going to be discovered or we’re going to have to leave people behind when we go.”
Simon nodded. Neither one of those alternatives appealed to him.
“Sir? Excuse me, sir?”
It took Simon a moment to realize that the woman was speaking to him. He crawled from beneath the pulling engine and picked up the grease-covered rag lying on the ground. The rag didn’t help cut the crusted grime on his hands.
The speaker was a middle-aged woman with a bandage over her left eye.
Simon started to get to his feet.
“No, you don’t need to get up now. Just stay as you are. My family and I just got here today.”
Simon tried to remember which today it currently was, but couldn’t.
“I didn’t want to interrupt,” the woman went on, “but I had to come tell you how much I appreciate what you’re doing.”
Simon felt embarrassed. Somehow he never got too tired to feel that way. “It’s not just me,” he said. “There are a lot of people helping.”
“I know.” The woman smiled. “Truly, I do. But they say you’re the one that started all of this.”
Simon didn’t know what to say to that, so he just nodded. He felt that was what his father would have done.
“I just wanted to thank you, you know. For caring enough about us to do this. If not for you, my three children would have died in that city, perished at the hands of those monsters.”
We’re not out of the city yet, Simon wanted to point out. But he didn’t. Hope was the commodity they had the least of, and he didn’t want to take it away from anyone because he knew it was a fragile thing, too. Most of them had come to the tube tunnel for a last few meals.
“Bless you,” the woman said. “That’s all I wanted to say.” She took his grease-grimed hand in hers and squeezed. Then she walked away.
Simon stared after her for a moment, at a loss for how he was supposed to react. More than anything, he supposed, he was afraid. It was one thing to find strangers murdered in their homes by the demons, but if he lost these people it was going to hurt.
It’s also going to be your fault that they’re here to get caught, he told himself. He drank some water, then climbed back under the pulling engine.
“You doing okay?” McCorkleson asked.
Simon picked up a battery-operated drill and slid his safety glasses on. He started drilling holes for another support lattice strut.
“Yes.” Metal bits struck Simon’s face sharply enough to sting.
“Right or wrong, however this things turns out,” McCorkleson said, “you’ve done all you could. The rest of it will just have to take care of itself.”
“I know.”
“No,” the old man said gently. “You’re just saying that now. You don’t know it yet. But you will.”
Simon hoped so, but he hoped most of all that everything turned out well.
“Clear!” McCorkleson yelled from the pulling engine’s control center.
“Clear!” Simon yelled back. Three other men standing guard around the pulling engine yelled out the same, letting McCorkleson know that he was clear to engage the power.
The NanoDyne electromagnetic engines were charged by solar power or by cranking them with a special lever. The engines were about the size of scuba tanks and had been mounted just under the pulling engine’s housing. Simon and McCorkleson had managed to put sixteen of them on the unit. He hoped it would be enough to move all the people depending on them fast enough to make their escape.
The engine shuddered as McCorkleson engaged the power. There was little noise as the engines created the magnetic lift that caused the pulling engine to glide up six inches above the rails. Even though the power to the tubes had been lost during the attacks over the first few hours of the demon invasion, the NanoDyne engines generated enough power to accelerate the pulling engine to unbelievable speeds on their own. That had been part of the attraction of the design.
The engines balanced out easily, each working well with the others. At the controls, McCorkleson grinned like a loon. Then he sat the engine back down on the tracks.
“She’s as ready as we’re going to get her,” McCorkleson declared.
A cheer exploded from the men, women, and children lining the tube tunnel. Word was passed along the line and further celebration came in waves.
“All right then,” Simon said. “Let’s get the cargo cars bolted up and see how it responds then. We’ll get moving after full dark tonight.”
Being inside the armor helped take away some of Simon’s fatigue. The computer took over caring for him automatically even though he hadn’t been taking care of himself. Once he’d climbed inside, the armor had tended to his needs, using slap-patches to chemically adjust his physical awareness back up to full alert. He’d pay for that later, he knew, but at the moment he needed the assistance.
The train was ready as they could make it. They’d packed the space with as many supplies as they’d had on hand, which had been precious few, then packed the passenger cars. In the end they’d had to add one more than they’d anticipated, but McCorkleson was confident the pulling engine would have the energy to get it moving.
Only one problem remained, and Simon had left it in place on purpose.
When the power had been cut in the tube, one of the trains had gotten stranded out in the main tunnel. It sat now, blocking the access tunnel of the spur where the out-of-service pulling engine had been stored.
Simon and McCorkleson had located a fuel-powered engine that was used to haul broken trains to service areas. Thankfully it had been functional.
One of the other men who had tube experience climbed into the engine and powered it up. The ripping roar of the massive engines filled the tube. Other than the possibility of running out of fuel, the sound was another reason Simon had wanted to use the NanoDyne engines. The NanoDynes were nearly silent.
Running loose through the tube and the city, the sound from the fuel-powered would have been a siren call the demons wouldn’t have been able to ignore. As it was now, the only sound the train would make would be the passenger car wheels turning on the rails. There was nothing they could do about that risk.
Slowly, by fractions of an inch at first, the stalled train started moving northeast, toward the Edgware Road station.
“Simon,” Wertham called over the HUD.
“Yes.”
Wertham was stationed at the northeast end of the rail where it emerged from the Underground for a time. On its route through London, the train ran above ground intermittently. Simon had guessed they were going to be at their most vulnerable during those times.
“We’ve got trouble. A group of demons has just entered the tunnel here.”
Fear stirred within Simon, fighting off the effects of the drugs the armor had put into his system. “Have they seen you?”
“Negative. But there’s no way they’re going to miss hearing that locomotive. I can hear it up here without the suit’s audio booster.”
Panic started to rise inside Simon. He fought it back and tried to think clearly. Even with the drugs in his system making him sharper and more clear-headed, it was hard.
But all they could do was proceed with their plan. It was too late to turn back now.
“We stay with what we’re doing,” Simon said. Then he called to the Templar, bringing them to him, and started running northeast, toward the end of the Paddington tube and the demons. If they got lucky, they could attack the demons and create enough confusion to allow the dead train to be pulled clear and allow McCorkleson to ease their escape train out onto the main track.
Then it was just a matter of surviving long enough to escape.
Simple, really. But he had to force himself not to think of the people he might lose.
Or that they might fail.
Simon checked his weapons out of habit, then he began to run.
Forty-Seven
S top the car,” Warren ordered.
The driver applied the brakes and brought the SUV to a halt near the Edgware Road tube station. It sat in the middle of other midsize buildings that lined Edgware Road and Bell Street. The broken windows were dark but the skies were still light gray from the evening sun sinking in the western skies.
“What are we doing here?” Naomi asked. She’d acted somewhat reluctant about coming, but she had.
Warren wasn’t sure if she was there because she wanted to be, because she was curious, or if she was there to spy on him for Tulane, who had stayed behind. Warren didn’t think it mattered, nor did he think he cared.
“The man who took my hand is here.” Warren opened the SUV’s door and stepped out into the falling snow.
“How can you know that?” Naomi stayed on his heels.
“Because I saw him here,” Warren replied, focused on the strong impression that quivered inside his head. “Because I can feel him here now.” He started walking, crossing the shattered debris that littered the area in front of the tube station.
Naomi followed him, pulling her coat tight against the freezing wind. “What are you going to do?”
“What am I going to do?” Warren snorted mirthlessly, not believing that she couldn’t figure that out. He’d lived with images of his stepfather beating him for years before the man had shot himself. During his recovery, he’d been haunted by nightmares about the knight that had taken his hand. The old fear had returned, and he knew the only way to rid himself of it was to destroy what he feared. “I’m going to kill him.”
“By yourself?”
Warren looked around, feeling a little uncertain when he saw that the Cabalists and the security people had remained with the car. He started to call out to them.
“There were a lot of them the last time we crossed their path,” Naomi said. “Do you think the handful of security guards we brought with us are going to be able to stand against them?”
Frustrated, Warren gazed at the tube station. He hadn’t thought to bring more people, and he doubted he would have gotten more volunteers.
Don’t worry, Merihim said. You don’t need them. I will give you an army.
“I’ll go alone,” Warren said, answering Naomi’s question.
“You didn’t come here to die,” Naomi accused.
“No.” Warren continued across the rubble. Suddenly he was aware of others’ eyes on him. Feeling threatened, he glanced around and saw shadows moving along the edges of the buildings.
Stop, Merihim said.
Warren did.
“Demons,” Naomi warned quietly as she drew back. “They’re all around us.”
Recognizing the demons as well, Warren felt a worm of fear slither through him. There were Darkspawn, Imps, and Gremlins in the hunting pack. Above them, a dozen Blood Angels clung to the sides of buildings. Warren couldn’t help wondering if Merihim had intentionally set him up to get killed.
No, Merihim said. I didn’t betray you. I brought you an army. These serve me. Just call to them and they’ll be yours.
Why aren’t you here?
This is your battle. I have my own. Tonight you can prove my investment in you, or you can die. Either way, I’ll know what I need to about you and your abilities to be part of my plans.
“Warren,” Naomi said softly. “Maybe we can get back to the car.” She put a gentle hand on his shoulder and pulled. “Come on. Before they rush us.”
In the next moment, the demons broke free of the shadows and came running at them.
Warren wanted to run, but he couldn’t move. Naomi yanked on his shoulder twice, then she abandoned him and ran back to the SUV.
Command them, Merihim encouraged.
Fear ran rampant through Warren. It was the most familiar emotion he had. All his life, it had been his constant companion. Fear had driven him to live a small life, to take abuse from people he’d offered friendship to, to be taken advantage of by people who were nowhere near as smart as he was. Fear had chased him to bed at night and awakened him with a pounding heart in the morning.
To command them, Merihim said, you must first command yourself.
“Warren!”
The demons came on, gnashing their teeth and waving their weapons. Miraculously, none of them had yet opened fire.
The SUV door closed behind Warren. He heard the sound and immediately recognized it for what it was. Then he heard the engine accelerate over the din of demonic growls and knew that they were pulling away. By then it was too late to run because the demons were on top of him.
“Stop!” Warren said, feeling his heart pounding in his chest.
The demons, dozens of them, halted immediately. Two of the Blood Angels flapped their wings and came to agile landings atop the Edgware Road tube station canopy. They eyed him with cruel interest.
Warren felt their hunger and excitement and knew that they scented his blood and lusted for the taste of it. Forcing himself into motion, he walked toward the demon pack. The fear was frozen inside him, held in place by the fascination he got from seeing the demons standing before him. They shifted as he neared them, making room for him to walk among them.
