Andy McDermott - The Tomb Of Hercules

Dangling, Nina kicked off the ruined shoe and took in her surroundings. She was closer to the ground than before, but still two stories up. Dumpsters lined the side of the alley below. Twisting around, she looked back up the phone line to see a face at the broken window-a ponytailed man. He seemed as surprised as she was that she’d made it.

But he still had a gun…

She swatted at the book, trying to flip it back over the top of the cable. It refused to budge. Her own weight was pinning it in place.

“Come on!” she hissed, slapping at the book. It went higher with each blow, but still not enough. “Come on!”

She looked around again. He was taking aim-

The phone line abruptly ripped free of the wall.

Nina screamed as she fell-landing with a wet thump inside an open Dumpster, plastic sacks of trash exploding beneath her. Garbage sprayed everywhere. She sat up, blinking in confusion before shock passed and sensation returned.

Smell, in particular.

“Oh, eurgh!” she wailed, sheer revulsion overcoming all other feelings. But the weight of the book still chained to her wrist rapidly reminded her of her priorities. Struggling to find support on the squishy sacks, she peered nervously over the brim of the Dumpster.

The phone line dangled slackly from beside the empty window. Her attacker had gone.

Her moment of relief was immediately stamped flat. That meant he was coming after her!

She forced herself upright, the contents of the Dumpster squashing revoltingly under her bare foot, and climbed painfully over the side. Kicking off her other shoe, she worked out her location. If the main entrance to the Brotherhood’s “safe” house was to her left…

She went right, cradling the book in her arms. A lifelong Manhattan resident, she only needed a moment to figure out where she was. Police Plaza-headquarters of the NYPD-was just a few blocks away. She would be safe there.

If she could reach it.

Nina emerged from the alley onto a street and searched for help. Not a cop in sight, of course. But there was a guy strolling towards her, sharp suit and slick hair and Bluetooth headset as he chatted to someone on his phone.

He did a double take as she ran to him, weighing her disheveled appearance against the Armani suit beneath the slime and rotting vegetables. “Looks like you need help, babe,” he finally said.

“Oh, ya think?” Nina shrilled. “Call the police, now!”

He gave her a smarmy grin and spoke into his headset. “Have to call you back, bud, it’s Good Samaritan time. Got a real-life damsel in distress. Ciao.”

Nina glanced back up the alley as he ended the call. Four men charged around the far end, guns in their hands. “Shit!”

“Hey, calm down,” said the guy, leisurely tapping the buttons on his phone. “I’m here now, I’ll look after you-”

A chunk of wall by his head was shattered by a bullet.

He let out a girlish shriek. “Second thought, screw this!” he yelled as he ran away.

“Son of a bitch!” Nina shouted at his rapidly retreating back. She sprinted in the opposite direction, heading for Police Plaza. Her pursuers had reached the alley much sooner than she’d expected-there was no way she could stay ahead of them for long, especially with the weight of the book slowing her down…

But maybe there was another way she could lose them.

A subway entrance at the end of the street led down to Brooklyn Bridge station. She ran for it, already short of breath. Shouts of alarm rose behind her as other people on the street saw the armed men.

Nina hurried down into the station concourse. The directions to the nearest platform were marked with green-the 6 Train on the IRT line. She followed the signs, racing barefoot through the crowd.

There was no time to buy a ticket, but like any self-respecting New Yorker Nina knew how to jump the turnstiles, even hampered by her priceless cargo. A ticket inspector bellowed after her, but he stopped abruptly at sounds of panic from the concourse. The gunmen were making no attempt to conceal their weapons.

There was a train at the platform. If she could get aboard…

Its doors started to close.

She ran faster, feet slapping on the concrete as she sprinted for the narrowing gap.

The grubby stainless steel doors slammed shut. Nina reached the train just a moment later, banging on the windows, but she knew the driver wouldn’t open the doors again. Brakes released with a clunk, and the train set off, motors whining.

The platform was empty, nobody to help her. Brooklyn Bridge was the terminus of the 6 Train, everyone having just boarded the departing northbound train.

More shouts and screams came from the turnstiles.

There was only one direction she could go.

Nina ran along the platform towards the mouth of the tunnel at its southern end, then leaped, landing on the track bed just inches from one of the rails. She flinched away from it. How many thousands of volts ran through it she had no idea, and had no intention of finding out firsthand.

The surface of the track bed was treacherous, filthy and slick with oily grime. Sharp edges hurt her feet. But she forced herself to keeping running into the darkness.

The tunnel curved, the gleaming rails disappearing around a corner. Feeble, widely spaced bulbs on the walls were the only source of light ahead of her. She looked back.

Two of her pursuers emerged on the platform from the entrance she had used, looking around before spotting her. A moment later, the other two gunmen appeared from a more distant opening. They’d split up to surround her, not thinking that she would risk going into the tunnels.

They jumped down onto the track after her.

Nina kept running, the dull lights flicking past as she followed the curve of the track. She chanced another look back. One of the two closer men was much faster than his companion, quickly catching up.

Too quickly. She knew where she was, what was down the tunnel, but he would reach her before she could get to it.

She could hear his rapid breathing, right behind her-

He snatched at the collar of her jacket. Nina wrenched herself free. But he was already trying again, this time getting a firmer grip on the material.

With a yell as much of anger as of fear, Nina spun around and smashed the sharp corner of the weighty book into the man’s face.

Even in the low light, she saw that she had drawn blood, a large gash across his cheek and top lip. He reeled, the toe of his boot catching a bolt and pitching him over-

Across the tracks.

Nina jumped back as fat sparks briefly lit up the tunnel. The man convulsed, smoke sizzling from his body where it touched the rails and created a circuit. He was being fried alive, cooked as the full power of the subway’s electric current ran through him.

She turned and kept running. The second man was gaining. She hoped he would be dumb enough to try to pull his friend clear, which would electrocute him as well-

He wasn’t. There was a brief pause in his footsteps as he vaulted over the rapidly charring corpse, then he carried on as if nothing had happened. Catching up fast.

Nina became aware of two things at once. Both of them bad.

The sides of the tunnel were lined with red and white stripes. Signs for maintenance workers, warning that there was not enough room to stand between the tunnel wall and a passing train.

Which had suddenly become a life-threatening issue, as she felt wind against her face-

A train was coming!

The tunnel formed a loop, where trains arriving at Brooklyn Bridge could circle around to begin their journey back north. And one was doing exactly that right now.

The glow from the train’s headlights rose as it approached. Metal screeched against metal, the rumble of its wheels becoming a roar.