And a blinding burst of sizzling blue electricity exploded out from the hinges and the handle.
There was a sudden, terrifying silence, broken only by the loud insistent beeping noise that came from Swain's wristband. Swain looked down at it. It read:
INITIALISED--6
DETONATION SEQUENCE INITIALISED.
* 14:55 *
AND COUNTING
Stephen Swain looked up at the electrified door in horror.
He was now outside the labyrinth.
FOURTH MOVEMENT
30 November, 8:41 p.m.
----ooo0ooo------
Holly and Selexin ran flat out down one of the aisles of Sub-Level Two.
Holly could hear nothing but her own rapid breathing as they raced down the narrow canyons of bookshelves. Beside her, Selexin was holding her hand, pulling her along, constantly looking behind them.
They came to a junction of aisles and made a quick right-left, zig-zagging their way toward the stairs at the centre of the massive subterranean floor.
Holly had started screaming as soon as she'd seen Swain tumble backwards through the doorway under the weight of the two hoods, but Selexin had suddenly come to life, seizing her hand, pulling her down the nearest aisle.
Behind them, they could hear the snarls and grunts of the hoods in hot pursuit.
Not far behind.
And gaining. Fast.
Selexin pulled Holly harder. They had to keep running.
Swain surveyed the dark passageway around him. Mouldy yellow fluorescent lights illuminated the tiny corridor.
The hood by his feet groaned softly. It lay on the floor, dazed by the two pounding blows Swain had given it against the hard concrete floor.
The other hood was nowhere in sight.
Swain crouched beside the hood on the floor. It hissed defiantly at him, but it was too badly injured to move.
Swain looked at his wristband, at the countdown in progress.
14:30
14:29
14:28
There was no time to waste. He had fourteen minutes to get back inside before his wristband exploded.
No. More important than that. He had fourteen minutes to get back to Holly.
Swain grimaced and picked up the injured hood by its narrow throat. It wriggled weakly in his grip -- a futile gesture. Then Swain closed his eyes and banged the creature's head a final time against the concrete floor. The body went limp immediately. Dead.
Swain discarded the carcass and headed cautiously down the narrow corridor.
The other hood was still nowhere to be seen.
At the end of the passageway, he came to a small room filled with large box-like electricity meters attached to the walls. A big sign above one of the meters read:
BOOSTER VALVE.
Swain noticed a small talon of jagged blue electricity licking intermittently out of a gap in the ceiling, touching the booster valve meter, causing it to short. Con Ed would love that, he thought.
There was a small doorway on the other side of the room.
With no door.
With his wristband still beeping insistently, Swain eased his way through the doorway and found himself standing beside the train tracks of the New York Subway.
It was quiet in the train tunnel. The walls were all painted black, with long white fluorescent tubes spaced every fifteen yards or so. An old wooden door swayed from a sturdy padlock by the side of the doorway. Swain wondered how the door had come to be pulled from its hinges.
There was a rustling sound from his right.
Swain turned.
The second hood was
Three yards away, its back turned, its head shaking violently from side to side. In its mouth, the remains of what was once a rat.
Swain was about to move away from the hood when there came a soft rumble from deep within the tunnel. The tracks beside him began to hum.
A soft white glow appeared around of the corner of the tunnel.
Suddenly a subway train burst through the silence, its wheels screaming a deafening, high-pitched wail, its brightly lit windows flashing rapidly by.
Immediately, Swain dropped to the black sooty ground of the tunnel, and in the flashing light of the train saw the hood's head snap up and see him.
The train roared by, kicking up specks of dust and dirt, throwing them at Swain's face. He squeezed his eyes shut.
And then, in an instant, the train was gone, and the tunnel was silent once more. The wristband continued beeping.
Slowly, Swain raised his head.
The tunnel was empty. He glanced over to where the hood had been--
It was gone.
Swain spun around.
Nothing.
He could feel his heart thumping loudly inside his head now. His right forearm stung like crazy where dust from the passing train had fallen inside the five deep claw-marks. He began to sweat.
13:40
13:39
13:38
He didn't have time for this. He rolled onto his side, and -- strangely -- felt something in his left jeans pocket.
It was the broken phone receiver. He had forgotten all about that. Holly had given it to him back on the First Floor. He checked his other pocket.
The handcuffs.
And Jim Wilson's useless Zippo lighter.
He checked the time again.
