James Rollins - Subterranean

"He insisted that-"

She stopped him with a raised palm. "Later. Right now I want you two in the wormhole. We're too exposed sitting out here."

Michaelson shook his head. "I'll stay and cover the entrance until Ben gets here."

"No," Ashley said, eyeing his ankle. "With your injury-I'll stand guard."

Frowning, he obeyed her orders.

Soon Ashley stood alone with a pistol in one hand and a flashlight in the other, her heartbeat so loud she was sure it could be heard across the cavern. C'mon, Ben. Don't stand me up.

From a distance down the wormhole, Michaelson called, "Any sign of Ben?"

Ashley stood at the entrance. "No. Just keep moving. I'll tell you when I see something." By now her palms were sweaty, her pistol slick in her grip. Ten minutes had already elapsed since Michaelson had arrived. Surely Ben should have been back by now. Her mind conjured up all kinds of horrors befalling Ben. Just get back here, she willed to him.

Then, from across the open space, another lantern appeared, bouncing wildly. Thank god, she thought, raising her own light. Ben was running at a full gallop toward her. He threw his rifle over his shoulder and waved her away.

"Run!" he yelled.

From behind him, two huge bulks stalked into the open area, necks twisting back and forth as they spied their escaping prey.

"Get inside!" he hollered to her.

Panicked, she turned to obey, then stopped. How would Ben…? Whipping back around, she shoved her pistol into her belt, picked up his sled and yelled to him, "Catch!"

She flung his board toward him and watched him snag the board in midair. Then she did the hardest thing in her life. She turned her back on Ben and dove headfirst into the wormhole.

Holding her breath, she scooted down the shaft. Once she was a safe distance away, she braked to a stop and looked over her shoulder. From this angle, she could see Ben racing toward the entrance, a reptilian snout just over his shoulder. Hurry!

He sprang for the hole, sled clutched to his chest. She cringed. He was going to miss the entrance and hit the wall.

But instead he landed with a loud "Ooof" and dove smoothly into the tunnel.

He made it! Unclenching her fists, she let out a long sigh.

Bumping into her, Ben smiled, his expression both strained and relieved. "Now, isn't this cozy."

His rough hands held her legs. She wished those hands would wrap her up, hold her. Reaching back to him, she squeezed his hand.

Suddenly the shaft was drowned in a scream of anger. One of the pursuers plunged its head down the hole toward them, its jaws open wide.

Ben shoved her forward. "Time to go!"

She started to sweep her hands forward, pulling farther away, when she heard a yelp from Ben. She twisted around.

He was sliding away from her, back toward the entrance. The creature had snagged his boot and was hauling him back out. Ben kept kicking at its snout with his other heel.

She flipped onto her back, sacrificing her sled, hearing it skitter down the shaft away from her, then snatched her pistol. "Lay flat, Ben! Down!"

Eyeing the muzzle, Ben slammed flat, covering his head.

Her hands clutched her gun, stone-steady. Over the hump of Ben's back, she spotted the eye within her sights, then pulled the trigger, the blast deafening within the tunnel.

An echoing screech of pain instantly followed. Within a moment, Ben was rolling toward her again. Before she could react, his mouth was against hers. Their lips crushed together. He suddenly withdrew as if shocked himself. She blinked at him, her mouth still slightly parted.

"Damn," he said.

"Ouch!" Ben shifted his hips beneath her. "You're crushing me."

Riding on Ben's back, she felt his muscles flexing beneath her as he drove their sled forward. Emotions warred within her: giddy relief at their close escape, trepidation for what lay ahead, and a rising lust for the man beneath her. "Sorry," she said, scooting farther back, resting her head on his left shoulder, her hands at his waist. The heat from his body was like that of a furnace, steady and hot. She closed her eyes, allowing her cheek to brush against the nape of his neck.

Ben said, "I see lights up ahead."

She raised her chin to look forward. "It's the others. I told them to stay in the tunnel."

They slid forward. Michaelson was last in line. He contorted his large bulk in the shaft as he turned toward them. He had a look of genuine relief on his face that was oddly touching.

"Jesus Christ," Michaelson said. "You had us worried. First that scream and gunfire, then your empty sled slides down."

"We decided to carpool." Ben smiled. "Saves gas and is good for the environment."

Ashley pinched his waist, eliciting a pained expression from him. She craned her neck to look over Michaelson's head. "How's Villanueva?"

"Groggy still, but stable. Breathing evenly now. Strong pulse."

"Good. Then let's pause here. Try to contact Alpha Base. Can you reach the radio?"

Michaelson nodded. "I already tried."

"And?"

"Only static."

She wrinkled her brow. If they couldn't contact someone, get some help… "Maybe we're too confined here. All this rock."

"No, it shouldn't make any difference. Down here, we're always surrounded by rock."

"Then what's the matter? Is the radio damaged?"

"No, it checked out fine, and the communications center at the base is staffed around the clock. For them not to have responded…" His words stumbled to a stop.

"What?"

"Something damned serious must be going down."

"RUN," BLAKELY SAID, PUSHING JASON FROM BEHIND.

"To my office."

"But-"

"Hurry!"

Blakely raced for his office, passing the boy and dragging him by the arm. Thankfully, Jason, still shocked by the commotion, allowed himself to be towed.

Sirens wailed in Blakely's ears, making it difficult to think. Men and women raced about them. A thousand floodlights swung in wild arcs across the rooftop. From the sounds of gunfire, the assault was striking the base periphery from all sides.

Blakely pounded up the steps of the administration building. Jason stumbled after him, his gym bag strap tangling around his feet. Once through the door and down the hall, they burst into Blakely's private office.

Roland was stuffing papers into a briefcase by the handful. He didn't look up as he spoke. "I heard. Almost ready."

"Good. Make sure you get the research documents in my desk drawer too. Those military assholes might take my base, but I'll be damned if they're going to get my work."

"Why the alarms?" Roland asked. "What's going on?"

He ran a hand through his thinning hair. "It's a full base alert. I have a feeling-"

A huge explosion rocked the building. Jason hugged his gym bag tighter to his chest. Tears started to well.

Roland began shoving papers faster. "That sounded like the munitions dump on the south side."

Blakely nodded. "Leave the rest. We evacuate now."

He opened a drawer and pulled out a.45 Colt automatic. He checked to make sure it was loaded and handed it to Roland along with a spare clip. "Take it."

Roland looked as if he had just been offered a venomous snake. He shook his head.

Another explosion caused the building to shake and ceiling dust to sift downward.

Roland snatched the pistol.

With a tiny key, Blakely opened a locked drawer and pulled out a sawed-off shotgun. He cracked it open; two red shells sat in the firing chamber. He snapped it closed.

Turning, he stumbled into Jason. Their collision loosened the boy's quaking control. "My… mom…," he sobbed between tearful breaths.

Blakely knelt and held the boy's shoulders. "Jason, I need you to be strong right now. We're going to make a run for the elevator. Try to get you topside."