Andy McDermott - The Tomb Of Hercules

The rear windows blew apart as streams of bullets spat through them, the guards firing their AUGs on full auto. The rapid-fire clank-clank-clank of more shots puncturing the sheet-steel skin of the gondola sounded like a hailstorm.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Chase yelled, arms raised to protect his face from the blizzard of glass as the other windows were smashed by the onslaught. Behind him, the contents of the emergency compartment were ripped to pieces by gunfire, the bullets smacking through the metal side of the box and the padding of the bench seat-before embedding in the sturdy wood of the bench itself.

The seat kicked with each impact, but Chase knew that the chances of an AUG bullet passing through five layers of protection-the skin of the gondola, the coils of rope and chain escape ladders, the side of the emergency compartment, the seat padding and the wooden bench-were low enough to give him a hope of survival.

A slim hope-but he would take whatever he could get.

His attackers sprayed the gondola with burst after burst. Every window was already destroyed, holes erupting in the walls, the ceiling, even the floor. A lump of wood blew off the corner of the bench inches from his head. The makeshift barricade wouldn’t last much longer.

A brief pause in the barrage. The guards were reloading. But that would only take a few seconds. And there wasn’t much he could do in that time.

Except-

Chase jumped up and grabbed the bottom rung of the emergency ladder running along the gondola’s ceiling, swinging it down. He dropped back to the floor just as the firing began again.

The entire car suddenly jolted, swinging like a pendulum from the cable. Tortured metal groaned and creaked.

Chase risked opening his eyes as shrapnel sprayed through the gondola. His vision was adjusting to the darkness, the interior lit by the unearthly blue-white glow of the moon-and in the half-light he saw the perforated ceiling flex , crumple lines radiating out from the center like strained kitchen foil.

The gondola was tearing loose from its support arm!

The metal was giving way, the bullet holes weakening it so much that it could no longer support its own weight-

And more holes appeared every second.

Chase looked at the emergency ladder. He hadn’t intended to go into the open to jump from the car until the last possible moment-but if he didn’t do so within the next few seconds, the only direction he would go was several hundred feet straight down.

Wood splintered behind him, broken pieces hitting his legs.

Metal screeched, and the back end of the gondola dropped a few inches. There was a rip in the ceiling, a gash torn across it behind the base of the suspension arm.

It was going to fall-

The firing stopped.

Reloading-

Chase raced up the ladder and flung open the top hatch. He jumped onto the roof, throwing himself against the bulky steel suspension arm.

With an almost human scream, the metal roof tore apart. The pockmarked gondola dropped away, tumbling towards the valley floor far below and smashing onto the rocks with a bang that echoed off the towering face of the dam.

The suspension arm swung madly, the entire cable whipping with the sudden loss of weight. Chase clung desperately to the cold metal, fighting for a foothold on the mangled remains of the roof. He saw the gondola behind juddering as well, one of the gunmen falling to the floor.

He strained to look over his shoulder at the car ahead. Maybe Sophia had been pitched out of a window as her gondola shook. No such luck. Bracing herself on a handrail, she glared back at him, having seen that he’d escaped the falling cabin.

The shuddering eased, though the suspension arm was still swinging. Chase tried to get a better handhold, but there was nothing.

He looked around again, not at Sophia but at the top station beyond her. Over two-thirds of the way there now-

Gunfire!

Bullets from the lower car flew past him with fwips of seared air, hammer-clangs striking against the suspension arm.

The metal Chase was pressed against was a foot wide at most. He twisted, turning sideways to shield as much of his body as possible.

But his hands and upper arms were still exposed, reaching around the sides. If a bullet even clipped him, he would lose his grip and fall to his death.

Sophia’s car was approaching the upper station. What was left of Chase’s would reach it in thirty seconds-

A bullet struck the suspension arm just above his left hand, shock waves buzzing through the metal. His fingers slipped on the grimy surface. He clawed for grip, feeling his other hand sliding, the remains of the roof beneath his feet bending under his weight…

His fingertips caught protruding metal: a bolt.

Arms burning, he pulled himself up by a couple of inches, just enough to stop the roof from giving way.

Another flurry of shots spanged against the suspension arm.

Sophia was nearly at the station, its lights washing over her gondola. Chase could see the building clearly now, another open-ended concrete structure, perched almost on the edge of the cliff.

Almost.

There was a steep rocky ledge, just a few feet across, between the thick foundation of the terminus and the sheer drop away to the valley floor.

Something hard nudged his side, caught between his body and the suspension arm.

The grenade…

The cable vibrated as Sophia’s car detached. More gunfire. Shots cracked against the cliff face. Ten seconds, less. The guards kept firing.

With a yell, Chase let go of the support with one hand, pain slicing through the fingertips of the other as they took his entire weight. The metal beneath his feet buckled. Flailing, he managed to reach into his jacket and pull out the grenade.

The cliff was just feet away.

Chase pulled himself up, teeth clamping around the ring attached to the grenade’s pin to tug it out. The curved metal spoon sprang away and disappeared into the darkness below.

Four-second fuse-

“Going down!”

He thrust the grenade upwards, jamming it into the runner hooking the gondola onto the cable. Then he threw himself onto the rocky ledge.

Loose pebbles skittered and slithered beneath him. He scrabbled for grip as if swimming up a waterfall of stones-

The suspension arm passed overhead into the station. The guards took aim-The grenade exploded.

The blast severed the main cable. The suspension arm dropped, smashing onto the station’s concrete floor before being yanked backwards with tremendous force. It shot over Chase’s head like a giant anchor as the full weight of the line and the third gondola snatched it into the valley.

The terrified screams of the security guards faded to nothing as they plunged hundreds of feet to splatter on the rocks far below.

Chase was still sliding down the scree, grasping for anything that might stop him from following them. His legs went over the lip of the cliff, his waist…

One hand locked around a rock.

Chase brought up his other hand. The rock held firm.

He pulled himself back up, managing to get a foothold. Another few seconds, and he was on the ledge proper, feeling his whole body shivering with the adrenaline aftershock.

But he couldn’t stop. Not yet. He still had to reach Sophia.

He clambered up the ledge to the foot of the building, spotting metal rungs set into the concrete nearby. He began a rapid ascent, pausing just below the final rung to draw his gun. Ready…

Go!

He whipped up and swept his gun across the station, locking on to a target.

“Don’t move!” he shouted.

Sophia was kneeling near the back of the room, frozen by his command. She had realized what Chase had done with the grenade just in time to throw herself into cover behind one of the stationary gondolas, and was only now recovering from the earsplitting shock of an explosion in a confined concrete space.