Part 104 (1/2)

A green Scott Pea.r.s.e stepped out onto the cross and his footsteps banged hard off the wood as he half walked, half trotted past the equipment shed and then over to our side. He seemed about to burst into the woods when he stopped on the embankment and went very still.

His head swiveled slowly in our direction, and for one long moment, he seemed to look directly into my eyes. He bent at the waist and squinted. He held out his arms as if to silence the mosquitoes and mist along the bog, the distant slapping of the fruit in the water. He closed his eyes and listened.

After what felt like a month or so, he opened his eyes and shook his head. He parted the branches in front of him and walked into the woods.

I turned my head, but Bubba wasn't beside us anymore, and I'd never heard him move. He was about ten yards ahead, crouched, hands resting on his knees as he watched Scott Pea.r.s.e make his way through the woods.

I turned my head back toward Pea.r.s.e, watched him stop about ten yards before the two windows and reach down to the forest floor. He raised his arm and a bulkhead door came up with it. He bent, lowered himself, and closed the door over his head.

Bubba was suddenly back beside us again.

”We don't know if he's got motion detectors or trip wires he turns on from inside, but I figure we got maybe a minute. Follow me. Exactly Exactly.”

He moved out onto the embankment again like the world's swiftest, bulkiest jungle cat, Angie followed ten steps behind him, and I followed five steps behind her.

Bubba turned sharply into the trees, and we went in behind him. He never showed a stutter-step's worth of hesitation as he raced silently across the same terrain Scott Pea.r.s.e had trod.

He reached the door in the forest floor and waved quickly at us.

We reached him and I suddenly felt the strongest desire in the world to slow down, to backtrack, to put the brakes on for a moment. This was all happening faster than I would have imagined. Blindingly fast. Too fast to breathe.

”It moves, shoot,” Bubba whispered, and flicked the M-16's selector switch forward to full auto. ”Keep your goggles on until we know there's light inside. If there is, don't waste time taking them off your head. Drop them down your face, let 'em hang from your neck. Ready?”

I said, ”Ah...”

”One-two-three,” Bubba said.

”Jesus,” Angie said.

”No bulls.h.i.+t,” Bubba whispered harshly. ”We're in or out. Right now. No time.”

I took my .45 from the holster at the small of my back, thumbed off the safety. I wiped my palm on my jeans.

”In,” Angie said.

”In,” I said.

”We get separated,” Bubba said, ”I'll see you back in the world.”

He grinned and reached for the door handle.

”I'm so happy,” he whispered.

I gave Angie a quick, bewildered glance, and she tightened her hands on her .38 to quell her shakes, and Bubba threw back the door.

A white stone staircase greeted us, dropping steeply fifteen steps before it ended at a steel door.

Bubba knelt on the top of the staircase, aimed his M-16, and fired several rounds into the upper left and lower left corners of the door. The bullets hammered the steel and erupted into yellow sparks. The noise was deafening.

The windows ahead of us shattered, and I saw muzzles pointing our way. We ducked low, and Bubba jumped to the bottom of the stairs and kicked the door off its shattered hinges.