"What about Bartleby?" Cal demanded, bringing the exchange to an end. "He's not here yet."
"Give him a chance. You know he'll find us," Elliott said in an understanding tone, attempting to mollify the boy.
"He'd better," Cal said anxiously.
"Let's do this," Elliott said, sighing as her patience wore thin.
There was no way that the boys could move quietly with the clinking and crunching of the glassy gravel underfoot, although Elliott managed it effortlessly, as if she were gliding over the surface.
"All that noise you're making will carry for miles. Can't you rock apes tread more lightly?" she implored them, but it was useless. However much care they took, they still sounded like a herd of rhinoceros stampeding through a glazier's. "The cache isn't far from here. I'm going to check it, then you can follow me in. Understood?" Elliott stated, then slipped away.
As they hung around, waiting for her return, Cal suddenly spoke.
"I think I hear Bart. He's coming."
Leaving Will and Chester, he edged slowly forward, hugging the side of the column.
His dimmed lantern fell on something.
It wasn't Bartleby.
It wasn't his own reflection in the glossy obsidian, either.
A Limiter stood before him in all his dark glory.
He had been skirting around the column from the opposite side, his rifle at his waist.
For the briefest moment, he looked as surprised as Cal, who squawked an urgent, unintelligible warning, alerting Will and Chester.
Cal's eyes and the Limiter's locked. Then the Limiter's upper lip pulled back into a brutal sneer, his teeth bared in his hollow-cheeked, hideous face. It was animal and insane. The grimace of a killer.
Cal's instincts kicked in and he used the closest thing he had to a weapon. He brought up his walking stick and, by some freak stroke of luck, the handle hooked the Limiter's rifle before he could raise it, yanking it clean from his hands.
It clattered across the obsidian gravel.
For another moment, the Limiter and Cal simply stood there, even more surprised than before. It didn't last long. In less than a heartbeat, the Limiter's hand snapped in front of him, gripping a gleaming scythelike dagger. It was standard issue for the Styx military, with a slightly curved and lethal-looking blade about ten inches long, and Cal had seen it used to deadly effect when the Crawfly cut down Uncle Tam. Brandishing it, the Limiter dived at the boy.
But his big brother was already there, tearing in from the side. Grabbing the Limiter's arm, Will crashed into him, sending the man flying. Will followed him down, landing on top of him. Still holding the soldier's arm, Will used all his weight to keep him from using his knife.
Cal followed suit and launched himself onto the soldier's legs, wrapping his arms around the man's ankles as tightly as he could. The Limiter punched at Will's back and neck with his free arm, trying his utmost to get at his face. But Will's rucksack had ridden up around his shoulders, making it difficult for the Limiter to land his heavy blows. Shouting to Chester, Will kept his head well tucked down.
"Use the gun!" Will bawled over and over again, his voice muffled because his mouth was pressed against the Limiter's upper arm.
"Chester, the gun!" Cal shouted hoarsely. "Shoot him!"
As the boys discarded lanterns sent a flurry of random beams glancing off the columns like a confusion of small spotlights, Chester, poised several feet away, had lifted the rifle and was trying to take aim.
"Shoot!" Cal and Will screamed in unison.
"I can't see!" Chester screamed back. Frantically.
"Do it!"
"Just shoot!"
"I can't get a clear shot!" Chester shrieked in absolute desperation.
The man thrashed wildly under Will and Cal, and Will was just about to shout again when something large slammed up against him. He swiveled his head around, lifting it just enough to see that Chester had also piled on. He'd evidently given up trying to take a shot with the rifle and decided the only thing he could do was join the fray. He'd dropped to his knees, pressed one into the Limiter's abdomen, and was raining punches on his face with both fists. As Chester made an attempt to pin down his free arm, leaning forward to grab hold of it, the Limiter saw his opportunity. He tensed his neck and, with a sickening thump, head-butted Chester hard.
"YOU SCUM!" Chester screamed. He immediately resumed the beating, dodging the Limiter's loose arm every time it took a swipe at him.
"DIE! DIE, YOU JACKHOLE! DIE!" Chester raved as he intensified his punches, his fists pummeling the Limiter's face.
If Chester had happened to catch sight of his reflection in one of the columns, he wouldn't have recognized himself. His face was a distortion, twisted into a crazed, determined mask. All the resentment and fury from his imprisonment in the Colony had found a release and was pouring out in one unstoppable torrent. He kept pounding the soldier, pausing only to fend off the Limiter's fist when he tried to retaliate.
The four of them writhed in the deadly struggle, swearing in breathless desperation as the man grunted stertorously like a wild boar, trying anything and everything to get free. Chester was still hammering away at the soldier, but it seemed to be having little effect. The boys' combined weight constricted his movements, but he was still able to use the elbow of his free arm to deliver the occasional weak counterstrike. And he tried to gouge at their faces with his clawed fingers, again unsuccessfully.
"KILL HIM!" Cal yelled from lower down the Limiter's body.
The boys fought on, knowing only that they had to restrain the soldier by whatever means necessary. There was simply no alternative. It was him or them.
As their bodies strained and pumped against each other, there was an obscene intimacy to the struggle. Chester could smell the sourness of the man's sweat and his vinegary breath in his face. Will felt the man's thick muscles knotting underneath him as he used all his strength to try to free his arm.
"NO. YOU. DON'T!" Will shouted, doubling and redoubling his efforts to restrain the man's bucking form.
The Limiter changed his tactics, perhaps as a last resort. He raised his head as far as he could and spat and snapped, attempting to bite them while making noises not unlike the stalker that had mauled Will so horrifically in the Eternal City.
But these small acts of savagery were only a distraction: He'd identified a chink in their combined onslaught. He screeched victoriously as he brought up his knees and dislodged Cal just enough to be able to wrest free a leg. He drew it back and drove his heel hard against Cal's stomach. The kick sent Cal sprawling across the glass gravel, his breath knocked out of him. He curled up, gasping air back into his lungs.
Now the Limiter had more leverage. He swung his legs and began to twist and thrash with such force that Chester was finding it impossible to hang on. As Chester fought back, the Limiter caught him with a resounding clout to the head. Stunned, he slumped to the ground.
Will had no idea of the others' plights. He didn't dare look up for fear of being beaten or gouged, stubbornly clinging to the Limiter's arm and spreading his body weight the best he could to keep the man down. Will was going to do his utmost to stop the soldier from using his scythe, even if it was the last thing he did — and he knew it might well be.
Less constricted now, the Limiter repeatedly drove his fist into Will's head and neck. Will cried out with pain. He couldn't withstand much more of this punishment.
Fortunately Chester had regained consciousness. Snatching up a large shard of obsidian, he began to slam it against the Limiter's skull.
The Limiter cursed Chester in the nasal Styx language, then reached up and clapped his hand around Chester's jaw. He hooked his thumb into the corner of Chester's mouth and used the painful hold to yank the hapless boy aside.
His legs scrabbling, Chester had absolutely no alternative but to follow where the Limiter was pulling him. Once Chester was on the ground and in easy reach, the Limiter gave him a tremendous blow on the cra
nium. This time, there would be no quick recovery. Chester lay in a groggy confusion, a Milky Way of spinning stars interlacing with the matrix of reflected light beams all around him.
With both Cal and Chester out of contention, only Will remained. The Limiter got a grip on Will's neck and was digging his fingers into it, closing off his windpipe. The soldier babble something exultantly in the Styx tongue. He thought he'd won.
Choking from pain and lack of air, Will saw that the end was near. Somehow it didn't come as a great surprise. After all, this was a trained soldier they'd taken on. They were just three kids. What chance had they ever had?
Click! As if the Limiter had snapped his fingers, a second scythe materialized from nowhere in his free hand. The blade flickered in the light of a nearby lantern as, in one fluid and easy movement, the Limiter switched his grip on the weapon.
"No!" Will croaked in alarm, his stomach sinking as he caught sight of the scythe. The killer had him cold. The blade glinted as the Limiter sucked in a breath through his battered lips and began to lower the weapon. Will's neck was now totally exposed. Will clenched his teeth, all hope deserting him as he waited for the knife to find its mark.
There was an earsplitting bang.
The bullet passed so close to Will, he felt its heat on his skin. The Limiter's raised hand hovered for what seemed to be an eternity, then opened. The knife slipped from its grasp.
Will stayed exactly where he was, numb with bewilderment, the sound of the shot still ringing in his ears. He wouldn't look at the soldier directly, but could see enough to know he was a grisly mess. He heard a long exhalation as the man's lungs emptied. Then came a wracking paroxysm, the whole of the man's body tightening, and a wet gurgle as a pink mist filled the air. Will felt droplets on his face. That was enough to snap him out of his paralysis. In a mad rush, he scrambled back, away from the Limiter, and leaped to his feet, spewing out a stream of unintelligible words and horrified gasps.
Panting rapidly, wiping his face over and over again with his sleeves, he stopped and turned. Cal stood stock-still, holding Chester's rifle. He stared at the dead man.
"I got him," he said quietly, not lowering the rifle, or his gaze.
Will went to him, as did Chester.
"I got him in the face," he said again, even more faintly. His eyes were empty and his expression blank.
"It's OK, Cal," Will said, easing the rifle from his brother's rigid hands and passing it to Chester. He put his arm around Cal's shoulders and slowly guided him sway from the grim sight of the dead Limiter. Will was still shaken, but his concern for Cal outweighed any he had for himself. The boy dumbly complied when Will told him they should both sit down. He felt Cal tremble against him. This was not the moment for his brother to go into shock.
"You got him good! You bagged him! You bagged yourself a Limiter!" Chester was babbling excitedly and laughing, his words slurred and poorly formed because of his swollen face. "Got him smack in the kisser! Bull's-eye! Serves him right! Hahahaha!"
"For goodness' sake, shut up, Chester," Will growled at him. His brother began to gag, then was violently sick. He was crying and mumbling something about the Limiter.
"It's OK, it's OK," Will said, not letting go of him. "It's over."
Elliott rushed in.
"Idiots! Do you think you could make any more noise?"
She saw the dead Limiter and gave a single approving nod. Then she looked over at the boys. Still twitchy from the adrenaline, Chester jigged from foot to foot, while Will and Cal sat comatose.
She scanned the glass columns.
"The White Necks are even closer than I thought."
"You can say that again," Will muttered.
She turned to Chester, who was now dabbing at his nose, trying to stem the flow of blood from it. She smiled. "You shot him. Nice work."
"Um... I... no..." Chester stammered. "I couldn't get..."
"Cal did it," Will cut in.
"But you had the rifle?" she said to Chester, looking perplexed and a little disappointed. Chester didn't offer any further explanation, glowering sullenly at Will. Then Elliott twisted to Will and Cal. "Get up. We have to go now... right now. Anyone hurt?"
"My jaw... my nose..." Chester began.
"Cal needs a second. Look at him," Will interrupted urgently, leaning back so Elliott had a view of his brother's dazed, out-of-focus eyes.
"Not a chance. Not after all that racket," she said.
"Can't he—?" Will begged.
"No," she growled. "Listen!"
They did as she said, and heard a baying in the distance.
"Stalkers!" Will exclaimed, the hairs on the back of his bruised neck standing up.
"Yes, a pack of them," Elliott nodded. She looked at the boys with a small smile. "There's another reason I think now would be a good time to hit the road," she said.
"What's that?" Will asked quickly.
"I've lit a fuse in the cache. The whole arsenal's going to blow sky-high in sixty seconds."
This last piece of information galvanized Cal into action. Elliott scooped up the Limiter's rifle as they thundered past his body, and then they ran like they'd never run before. Will stayed close to Cal, who started off the best he could on the glass shards with his weak leg. But once Bartleby rejoined the crew, the boy raced along as fast as the rest of them.
Like firecrackers going off, there was a volley of gunfire. A hail of lead peppered the columns around them, the impacts sometimes sending plate-sized fragments gyrating into the air. Will instinctively bent his head and began to slow down.
"No! Keep going!" Elliott yelled.
Bullets ricocheted and whined from the mirror surfaces as they fled. Will felt tugs on his pants legs, but couldn't stop to see the cause.
"Get ready!" Elliott shouted above the barrage.
It came.
The explosion was huge. A blinding light scorched around them, sent in a thousand different directions b the reflective surfaces, and then, as soon as the reverberations of the initial blast subsided, a tremendous crashing began.
Broken columns came toppling down, colliding one into the other, like dominoes in a chain reaction. A goliath section of fractured column slammed into the ground directly behind them, sending up a dust storm of powdered glass that sparkled like black diamonds in their lights. It clogged their throats and stung their eyes. The ground itself rocked with each impact.
The bedlam and crashing continued unabated, and before any of them knew it they were speeding after Elliott into a tunnel. Will jerked his head around just in time to see a column collapse against the entrance and completely seal it off. They were submerged in a miasma of glass sleet for several hundred feet. Then the air cleared and Elliott brought them to an abrupt halt.
"We have to go, we have to go," Chester urged her.
"No, we have a few minutes' grace. They can't follow us in here," she said, picking fragments of glass from her face. "Drink some water and get your breath back." After taking a large swig from her canteen to rinse out her mouth, she swallowed several gulps and then passed it around. "Anyone hurt?" she asked as she set about checking each of them over in turn.
Chester couldn't breathe through his nose, but Elliott told him she didn't think it was broken. His mouth was also badly swollen and split at the corner where the Limiter had crooked it, and his head tender from the catalog of punches. As Elliott used her lantern to examine him, he saw his knuckles were red and bruised, and his forearms soaked through with blood. She examined them carefully.
"It's all right. It's not yours," she said after a quick inspection.
"The Limiter?" Chester said, giving her a wide-eyed look and shivering as he recalled how he'd pummeled the soldier with the chunk of obsidian. "That's terrible... how could I have done that... done that to another person?" he whispered.
"Because he would have done worse to you," she said curtly, before moving on to Cal.
The boy appeared unhurt except for some very tender ribs
. But he was slow to respond when Elliott spoke to him, still shocked that he'd shot the Limiter.
She took him by both shoulders, her voice sympathetic.
"Cal, listen. Drake gave me some advice once, after a horrible thing happened to me."
The boy looked vaguely at her.
"He said that our skin has a dead layer on it."
She had his attention now — he frowned quizzically at her.
"It's the cleverest thing. It dies and the top layers flake off, to protect us from infection." Straightening up, she lifted her hands from his shoulders and brushed one over the back of the other to illustrate what she was saying. "The bacteria — or germules, as you call them — they settle, but can't get a hold."
"So?" Cal said, intrigued.
"So right now, part of you is dying, just like your skin. It might take a while — it did with me — but it will die to save you. And next time you'll be tougher and stronger."
Cal nodded.
"So let it go and just move on."
Cal nodded again. "I think I see," he said, his face losing its rigidity and his eyes regaining a measure of their vitality. "Yes, I see."
Will had been listening and was impressed with the way Elliott had been able to comfort the boy. Cal already seemed to be back to his old self, chatting enthusiastically to his beloved cat.
Elliott checked Will next. Considering what he'd been through, he was relatively unscathed except for some angry red bruises and grazes on his neck, a number of abrasions on his face, and a mountain range of bumps on the back of his head. As he gingerly touched them, he thought of the tugs he'd felt when they'd been running and, probing his calf with his fingers, discovered a couple of small tears in the fabric of his pants legs.
"What's this?" he said to Elliott. He knew they hadn't been there before.
Elliott inspected them.
"They're bullet holes. You should count yourself lucky."
The shots had punched straight through the material, and he could stick a finger in the holes to show where they'd landed. Relieved that he hadn't been hit, that he'd indeed dodged another bullet, he broke into laughter. Cal gave him a curious look, while Chester just clicked his teeth dismissively. Elliott regarded him with quiet disapproval.