Dan Abnett - First and Only

Gaunt consulted his sketch map. It was difficult to determine how far it was to the next station or junction, and without knowing the frequency of the bomb trains, he couldn't guarantee they'd be out of the tunnel before the next one rumbled through.

Gaunt cursed. He didn't want to turn back now. His mind raced as he reviewed his troop files, scrabbling to recall personal details.

'Domor!' he called, and the trooper hurried over.

'Back on Tanith, you and Grell were engineers, right?'

The young trooper nodded. 'I was apprenticed to a timber haulier in Tanith Attica. I worked with heavy machines.'

'Given the resources at hand, could you stop one of these trains?'

'Sir?'

'And then start it again?'

Domor scratched his neck as he thought. 'Short of blowing the mag-rail itself… You'd need to block or short out the power that drives the train. As I understand it, the trains move on the rails, sucking up a power source from them. It's a conductive electrical exchange, as I've seen on batteries and flux-units. We'd need some non-conductive material, fine enough to lay across the rider-spine without actually derailing the train. What do you have in mind, sir?'

'Stopping or slowing the next train that passes, jumping a ride and starting it again.'

Domor grinned. 'And riding it all the way to the enemy?' He chuckled and looked around. Then he set off towards Colonel Zoren, who was conversing with some of his men as they rested. Gaunt followed.

'Excuse me, sir,' Domor began with a tight salute, 'may I examine your body armour?'

Zoren looked at the Tanith trooper with confusion and some contempt but Gaunt soothed him with a quiet nod. Zoren peeled off a gauntlet and handed it to Domor. The young Tanith examined it with keen eyes.

'It's beautiful work. Is this surface tooth made of glass bead?'

'Yes, mica. Glass, as you say. Scale segments woven onto a base fabric of thermal insulation.'

'Non-conductive,' Domor said, showing the glove to Gaunt. 'I'd need a decent-sized piece. Maybe a jacket – and it may not come back in one piece.'

Gaunt was about to explain, hoping Zoren would ask for a volunteer from among his men. But the colonel got to his feet, took off his helmet and handed it to his subaltern before stripping off his own jacket. Stood in his sleeveless undervest, his squat, powerful frame and shaven black hair and black skin revealed for the first time, Zoren paused only to remove a slim, grey-sleeved book from a pouch in his jacket before handing it to Domor. Zoren carefully tucked the book into his belt.

'I take it this is part of a plan?' Zoren asked as Domor hurried away, calling to Grell and others to assist him.

'You'll love it,' Gaunt said.

A warm gust of air announced the approach of the next train, some seventeen minutes or so after the first they had seen. Domor had wrapped the Vitrian major's jacket over the rider-rail just beyond the spur and tied a length of material cut from his own camo-cloak to it.

The train rolled into view. Everyone of them watched with bated breath. The front cart passed over the jacket without any problem, suspended as it was just a few centimetres above the smooth rail by the electromagnetic repulsion so that the whole vehicle ran friction-free along the spine. Gaunt frowned. For a moment he was sure it hadn't worked.

But as soon as the front cart had passed beyond the non-conductive layer, the electromagnetic current was broken, and the train decelerated fast as the propelling force went dead. Forward momentum carried the train forward for a while – by the track-side, Domor prayed it would not cany the entire train beyond the circuit break, or it would simply start again – but it went dead at last and came to a halt, rocking gently on the suspension field.

There was a cheer.

'Mount up! Quick as you can!' Gaunt ordered, leading the company forward. Vitrians and Tanith alike clambered up onto the bomb-laden carriages, finding foot and handholds where they could, stowing weapons and holding out hands to pull comrades aboard. Gaunt, Zoren, Milo, Bragg and six Vitrians mounted the front cart alongside Mkoll, Curral and Domor, who still clutched the end of the cloth rope.

'Good work, trooper,' Gaunt said to the smiling Domor and held a hand up as he watched down the train to make sure all had boarded and were secure. In short order, the entire company were in place, and relays of acknowledgements ran down the train to Gaunt.

Gaunt dropped his hand. Domor yanked hard on the doth cord. It went taut, fought him and then flew free, pulling Zoren's flak jacket up and out from under the cart like a large flatfish on a line.

In a moment, as the circuit was restored, the train lurched and silently began to move again, quickly picking up speed. The tunnel lights began to strobe-flash as they flicked past them.

Clinging on carefully, Domor untied his makeshift cord and handed the jacket back to Zoren. Parts of the glass fabric had been dulled and fused by contact with the rail, but it was intact. The Vitrian pulled it back on with a solemn nod.

Gaunt turned to face the tunnel they were hurtling into. He opened his belt pouch and pulled out a fresh drum-pattern magazine for his bolt pistol. The sixty round capacity clip was marked with a blue cross to indicate the inferno rounds it held. He clicked it into place and then thumbed his wire headset.

'Ready, weapons ready. Word is given. We're riding into the mouth of hell and we could be among them any minute. Prepare for sudden engagement. Emperor be with you all.'

Along the train, lasguns whined as they powered up, launchers clicked to armed, plasma packs hummed into seething readiness and the ignitors on flamer units were lit.

NINE

'Come on,' Caffran said, wriggling up the side of the stinking shell hole that had been home for the best part of a day. Zogat followed. They blinked up into the dawn light. The barrage was still thundering away, and smoke-wash fog licked down across no-man's land.

'Which way?' Zogat said, disorientated by the smoke and the light.

'Home.' Caffran said. 'Away from the face of hell while we have the chance.'

They trudged into the mud, struggling over wire and twisted shards of concrete.

'Do you think we may be the only two left?' the Vitrian asked, glancing back at the vast barrage.

'We may be, we may be indeed. And that makes me the last oftheTanith.'

The Jantine armoured unit stabbed into the Shriven positions behind the barrage, but in two kilometres or more of advancing they had met nothing. The old factory areas were lifeless and deserted.

Flense called a halt and rose out of the top hatch to scan the way ahead through his scope. The ruined and empty buildings stood around in the fog like phantoms. There was a relentless drumming sound that bit into his nerves.

'Head for the hill line,' he told his driver as he dropped back inside. 'If we do no more than silence their batteries, we will have entered the chapters of glory.'

Four kilometres, five, passing empty stations and unlit cargo bays. A spur to the left, then to the left again, and then an anxious pause of three minutes, waiting while another bomb train passed ahead of them from another siding. Then they were moving again.

The tension wrapped Gaunt like a straitjacket. All of the passing tunnel looked constant and familiar, there were no markers to forewarn or alert. Any moment.

The bomb train slid into a vast cargo bay on a spur siding,

coming to rest alongside two other trains that were being offloaded by cranes and servitor lifters. An empty train was just ^ving on a loop that would take it back to the munitions Mumps.

The chamber was lofty and dark, lit by thousands of lanterns and the ruddy glare of work-lamps. It was hot and smelled bit-let like a furnace room. The walls, as they could see them, were inscribed with vast sigils of Chaos, and draped with filthy banners. The symbols made the guardsmen's eyes weep if they glanced at them and made their heads pound if they looked for longer. Unclean symbols, symbols of pestilence and decay.