across, I'll give a yell. And if it's not safe, I'll..."

The rattling, peremptory calls had started up again,

making Cole think of cicadas for some reason, the

almost mechanical ree-ree-ree sound of cicadas on a

hot summer night. He swallowed hard, trying to

pretend to himself that he was ready.

"Outta time," John said. "Get ready to go..."

He held up the sweatshirt, then - astoundingly

grinned at Leon. "My man, you must invest in a stronger deodorant; you stink like a dead dog."

Without waiting for a response, John put the shirt

over his head, holding it open at the bottom so he

could see the floor. He jogged out into the open, his

face down, Cole and Leon both tensing...

... and there was a rapid patpatpatpat, and the black material over John's face was suddenly dripping with

great strings of the poison red snot, and he jerked his

hand at them...

... and Leon said, "Now!" and Cole ran, head

down, seeing only Leon's boots sprinting in front of

him, a blur of gray rock, his own thin legs as he

sprinted. He heard a gurgling cry to his left and

ducked down even farther, terrified -

- and there was the thump of wood in front of him,

and then he was on the bridge, flat wooden slats

rippling underfoot, tied with scrawny twine. He saw

the vee-shaped gorge underneath, saw that it was

deep, that it had been dug into the earth beneath the

Planet, forty, fifty feet...

... and then he was back on gray land, before

vertigo could even occur to him. He ran, thinking of

how wonderful it was that all he needed to think

about was Leon's boots, his heart hammering against

his breastbone.

Seconds or minutes later, he didn't know, the boots slowed, and Cole dared to look up. The wall, the wall

and there was the hatch! They'd made it!

"John, go!" Leon screamed, taking a few running steps back the way they'd come, his semi up and

ready. "Go!"

Cole turned, saw John rip off the black hood, saw

the handful of Spitters grouped loosely in front of

him, six, seven of them, calling once more. John tore

through their ranks, and at least two of them spat, but

John was fast, fast enough that only a tiny bit hit his

shoulder, at least as far as Cole could tell. The

monstrous creatures started after him in their jump-

ing, hopping movements, not as fast but close.

Run run run!

Cole pointed the nine-millimeter in the direction of

the Spitters, ready to shoot if he thought he could get

a clear shot, as John hit the bridge...

... and disappeared. The bridge collapsed, and John

disappeared.

 

SIXTEEN

JOHN FELT THE BRIDGE DROP AN INCH OR

two about a half second before the ropes snapped. He

instinctively put his hands out, still running, thinking

he'd make it -

- and then he was falling, his knees slamming into

a moving wall of wooden slats, his hands clenching

the second they touched solid -

- and all he heard was a whoosh sound, and then

the knuckles of his right hand crashed into rock, and

he was dangling over a very deep chasm, a slat of

loose wood in his left hand. He'd managed to grip one

of the pieces still attached to the now hanging bridge;

both ties that had anchored it to the north side of the

rift had snapped.

John dropped the useless slat, hearing it clatter to

the bottom of the chasm along with several other

pieces that had come untied. He reached up to get a

better grip...

... and thwack, a gob of red mucous suddenly

appeared in front of him, less than a foot to the right

of his face, sliding down the chasm wall in a melting

rope.

- shit on toast -

Bambambam, someone was shooting a nine-

millimeter, and the rising rattle of Spitters getting

ready to spit told him that he definitely needed to get

out.

He reached up again, his biceps flexing, straining

against the fabric of his sweatshirt as he grabbed one of the slats above and pulled himself up. Above, more

shots, closer, and a shout from Leon that was cut off

as more bullets thundered.

Kick ass, boys, I'm coming...

Hand over hand was a bitch, particularly with

bleeding knuckles and an automatic rifle hanging

from his neck, but he thought he was doing pretty

well, reaching up for the next handhold -

- and hot wetness hit the back of his right hand,

and it hurt, it was like acid, burning -

- and he let go, flinging the gelid acid away,

wiping at his shirt wildly. He held on to the shudder-

ing bridge with his left, but just barely, the pain like a

fire, maddening. It was all he could do to resist his

natural instinct, to clutch at the screaming wound

and with the way his fingers were starting to tingle,

he thought he might not have that much longer to

worry about it.

"He's right here!"

A cracked, hysterical shout from directly above.

John tilted his head back, saw Cole crouched at the lip

of the chasm, his work shirt pulled up over his nose,

his gaze frantic and scared.

"John, give me your hand!" He screamed, and reached down as far as he could, flakes of concrete

falling from beneath his sliding boots. If he said


anything else, it was lost in another series of explo-


sive rounds as Leon worked to hold the Spitters at


bay.


It only took a split-second for John to react to


Cole's command, and in that instant he understood


that he was going to get out. Henry Cole stood all of


five-eight and probably weighed one-fifty sopping wet.


With his clothes on. What was more, he looked like


some mad turtle hunkered down in the shell of his


shirt.


Too goddamn funny. Funny, and touching in an idiotic way, and although his hand still hurt like a son


of a bitch, he'd actually forgotten to feel it for a


second or two.


John grinned, ignoring Cole's trembling fingers,


forcing himself to concentrate on pulling himself up


with his injured hand. There were more rattling cries


from behind him but no spit-bombs for the moment.


"Tell Leon to use the grenade," he gasped, and Cole turned, shouting over another burst from Leon's


semi.


". . . says grenade! John says use a grenade!"


"Not yet!" Leon screamed back. "Get clear!"


Thwap-wap, two more globs flew across the chasm,


one hitting Cole's boot, the other only inches from John's sweating face.


Put on the power, John. With a final, deeply felt


grunt, John grabbed the wood at the very top and


pulled himself up, pulled and then was pushing down,


bringing his knee up to climb out.


"I'm good, go!"


Cole the mad turtle needed no further incentive. He


took off running as Leon continued to cover for John,


as John crouch-ran toward him, jamming his injured


hand into his pack and pulling out his last grenade


he'd already popped the pin when he saw that Leon


had his grenade in hand.


"Do it!" John yelled, reaching Leon, Leon winding back and then lobbing the powerful explosive at the


Spitters, throwing high. Then both of them were


running, John shooting a look back to see that three,


four of the animals had already leapt into the chasm.


No time to think. John threw low, threw as hard as


he could, his grenade disappearing into the rift as


Leon's landed in front of the others -


- and they were diving and rolling, the blasts


almost simultaneous, KA-WHAM-WHAM, the sound


of powdered rock raining down, an incredibly high-


pitched squealing coming from somewhere.


"You got 'em! You got 'em!"


Cole was standing in front of them, a look of


unabashed glee and not a little awe on his narrow


face. John sat up, Leon next to him, both turning back


to see.


They hadn't killed all of them. Two of the four still


on the other side of the chasm were mostly intact,


alive, but blind and broken, their legs splintered,


black fluid obscuring whatever was left of their faces


as they squealed in fury, the sound like a guinea pig


being stepped on. The other two must have been


directly in front of the blast; they were just bleeding,


shattered bags, bones sticking up from the liquid piles


like - like broken bones. From the manmade gorge


there were more of the screaming squeals, and noth-


ing leapt out to attack. For all intents and purposes, it


was over.


John crawled to his feet, studying the back of his


hand. Contrary to how it felt, the skin hadn't melted


off. There were a few small blisters forming and the


flesh looked scorched, but he wasn't bleeding.


"You okay?" Leon asked, standing and brushing at his clothes, his youthful features looking a lot less


youthful to John.


I'm not calling him a rookie anymore.


John shrugged. "Think I broke a nail, but I'll live." He saw that Cole was still beaming at them, his body shaking with the adrenaline aftermath; he


seemed at a loss for words, and John had a sudden


clear memory of how he'd felt after his first battle, the


first in which he'd acted bravely. How helplessly


elated he'd been. How incredibly alive.


"Henry, you're a funny guy," John said, clap-


ping his hand on the smaller man's shoulder and


smiling.


The electrician grinned uncertainly, and the three


of them started for Four, leaving the furious squeals


of the dying animals behind.


When the dust cleared and the three men were still


alive, Reston slammed his fist against the console in


anger and rising dread, his stomach lurching, his eyes


wide with disbelief.


"No, no, no, you stupid shits, you're dead!"


His voice was a little slurred, but he was too


shocked to give it much notice, too upset. They


wouldn't survive the Hunters, he knew that -


- but they weren't going to survive the Ca6s, either.


Reston couldn't believe that they'd made it this far;


he couldn't believe that of the twenty-four specimens


they'd encountered, all but one Dac had been left


either dead or dying. Most of all, he couldn't believe


that he'd let it continue, that his pride and ambition


had kept him from doing what he should have done in


the first place. It wasn't that he was out of his league,


he was in the inner circle, he was past that kind of


insecurity, but he should have talked to Sidney, at


least, or even Duvall; not for advice, but to cover all


of his bases. After all, he couldn't be held totally


responsible if he'd had counsel from one of the other,


older members. . .


It wasn't too late. He'd put a call in, explain his