Soulless The Girl in the Box - By Robert J. Crane Page 0,61
He held out his hand and the panel started to rattle, then burst from its mounting. “Ladies first,” he said with a cocky smile.
“Ass,” I said, but didn’t argue. “I’ll go first because the range of my powers is limited, not because I’m a lady.” I bent nearly double and stopped. A long metal duct ran in front of me, and off to my left. I felt a flash of familiarity, looking down the metal tunnel, and my breath caught in my throat. It was like the box.
But it wasn’t, not really. I could feel air circulating through, and over it I heard more tires squeal and looked back to see two big trucks full of guards, unloading on the pavement about a hundred feet in front of the panel. “Let’s go!” I called to Reed and Scott.
“Shall we hold them off?” Reed said to Scott, who had his gun in one hand and his other fist extended.
Scott fired a couple shots. “Seems the gentlemanly thing to do. Got any ideas for that?”
“Elementally, dear Watson,” Reed said, another tornado forming in front of him. “Elementally.”
I heard Scott give off a cackle and I started to say something smartass and join them, my gun drawn. I stopped when I saw one of the guards on the truck aim an RPG launcher right at me.
“GO!” Scott shouted, launching himself to the left. I saw Reed go right, leaving the RPG pointed at me. I saw the flare of the tube as I dived into the duct, running as fast as I could whilst bent double.
The RPG exploded behind me, the force of it yanking me off my feet. The ductwork took an abrupt, ninety degree right turn that I couldn’t quite make as the explosive force drove me forward into the metal. I burst through the soft aluminum, my head ringing, and realized I was hanging, suspended in mid-air for almost a second before gravity caught me. I fell, dropping, down, down, down into the darkness of the room below me.
Chapter 19
I hit cold metal, my shoulder landing first, then my torso, and all my breath left me. I gasped, pain shooting through me. I couldn’t hear anything but ringing in my ears, again, only worse this time, like someone had set off a fire alarm in my brain, rattling the damned bell so hard I couldn’t concentrate on anything else. One by one, little agonies began to work their way into my consciousness; a searing pain in my shoulder, a feeling in my knee like I’d been hit with a hammer, and the taste of blood flowing in my mouth.
I worked my way to my knees and opened my eyes. I’d landed on a metal catwalk and below me was inky blackness. I looked above, to where I’d come from, and far up there I could see a smoking bit of ductwork, mangled by the explosion and my passage through the metal. Tracing it back toward the wall, it was ballooned comically, as though someone had pushed the sides out with all the ease of crumpling tinfoil. I wondered if Scott and Reed were all right, but something told me that even if they were, I wasn’t going to be seeing them come down the way I had.
I gripped the railing of the catwalk, trying to force myself to my feet. It seemed to be harder this time than I could recall it being in the past. I had pains everywhere, but after a minute of solid effort I made it to my feet, leaning on the railing for support. I looked both directions the catwalk extended, and decided I needed to pick one. I finally decided on right, not totally at random, but close. Why? Because it was the right way. I couldn’t bring myself to even chuckle at my horrible pun, such was the pain in my body.
I staggered along, my right leg starting to numb the more I walked. I didn’t think it was broken, but I knew I was going to have one bitch of a bruise on it later. I kept my right arm close to my body because the shoulder cried out in anguish anytime I moved it. I had lost my main gun in the explosion and fall, but I had pulled my backup, a much smaller weapon with a smaller magazine, a Walther PPK. Unfortunately, all I had was the seven shots it gave me, and then I’d be out.