Page 27 of The First Spark
His pulse thumped in his ears as he rounded another corner, half-swimming, half-running. Shouts echoed in the tunnel, and waste lapped around him. Hannover was up ahead, and he plowed towardsher as fast as he could. She spun, flailed, and sank into the lake. Brandishing a shard of glass at him, she stumbled to her feet.
“Stay back!”
“Run!” he roared, swimming past her. “Run, run, they’re coming!”
Pulser shots screeched through the tunnels as he rounded another corner, pushing his arm to propel him despite the blinding, white-hot pain.
After the next turn, there was supposed to be an access ladder to the hangar bay.
Muck splashed around him as he picked up speed, swimming faster. The last corner was a few yards away. He raised his head to suck in a heaving breath. Sewage splashed into his mouth, choking him.
A barrage of blue stunners raced over his head, and he dove into the sludge.
Bits of waste and streams of muck crashed against his face. The stench was pervasive, all consuming. It took all his strength not to gag.
Vibrations shot through the sewage as the blasts struck the wall. Zane waited another second to make sure it was over, then lunged to his feet. Holding down the trigger, he blindly sprayed pulserfire at the legionnaires.
“Go!” he roared, wiping the muck from his eyes. “Ladder!”
But Hannover wasn’t beside him.
Zane whirled around, scanning the tunnel.
Three legionnaires floated beyond him. Between them, with an arm around her neck and a pulser rammed into her skull, was Hannover.
He’d seen fear before. He’d felt it dozens of times.
But nothing could compare to the sheer terror on Hannover’s sewage-caked face, the desperation in her eyes as she clawed at the arm around her neck.Please, she mouthed, as the legionnaire jabbed the pulser against her skull. She stopped clawing.Please.
Their pulsers whipped towards him.
Red flashed.
Zane plunged into the sewage and swam away, parting the river ofgreen gunk before him. Faster, faster. Every twitch of his wounded arm threatened to make him scream.
There was nothing he could do.
He repeated it as he thrashed through the muck. Red blasts streaked after him. There was nothing he could do. Staying would only get him killed, and no amount of money was worth that.
He didn’t stop until he reached the ladder. Floating in the sewage, he craned his neck to take in the impossible distance to the hangar bay.
Zane grimaced. There was no way he’d make it, but he had to try.
He braced his arm on the ladder.
Burning pain blazed through his collarbone, and the searing heat of blasts grazed his side. His arm. His neck.
Grunting, Zane let go of the ladder and dropped into the sewage. He held down the trigger, and an arc of lasers sprayed towards the legionnaires, pushing them back. Someone shrieked.
A blinking light flashed. A warning trilled, but he didn’t let go of the trigger. His pulser sputtered, and as the charge meter faded, its red lasers weakened.
His pulser clicked. Nothing came out.
He went utterly still.
His pulse thundered and his muscles locked up, but in the split second of stillness, he couldn’t believe this was the end. There was so much he had left to do, so much he had left tobe.
Legionnaires rounded the corner, raising their weapons.
