They would just be another bum and a kid living on the subway.
It was the way out, the way home.
If they could get past the NSA.
Swain pulled Holly eastward into the shelter of the southern wall of the library building, the rain pelting down around them. They passed the broken window at ground level that he had used to get inside before. Using the cover of the rain and the shadows of the oak trees in the night, Swain hoped they could get past the NSA undetected.
They came to the south-east corner.
Beyond the row of oaks, Swain could see the great white rotunda. And beyond the rotunda, the subway station.
Yellow police tape still stretched from tree to tree around the library, forming a wide perimeter. Swain saw a few NSA agents armed with M-l6s stationed on that perimeter, their backs to the building, keeping the small crowd of helpless firefighters, local cops and late-night onlookers at bay. There weren't many NSA agents, just enough to secure the area. Swain guessed that most of the others were now inside the building itself.
'All right,' he said to Holly. 'You ready? It's time to go home.'
'Okay,' Holly said.
'Get ready to run.'
Swain waited for a second, peering around the corner of the building.
'All right,
They dashed out from the building, across the open ground and into the treeline. They stopped beneath a big oak, catching their breath.
'Are we there yet?' Holly asked, breathless.
'Almost,' Swain said. He pointed to the rotunda. 'That's where we go next. Then on to the subway. You want me to carry you?'
'No, I'm okay.'
'Good. Ready?'
'Yes.'
'Then let's go.'
They ran again. Out from the treeline. Out into the open.
Marshall felt the ground beneath him shudder.
He was still standing at the main entrance to the library. He looked inside, through the broken glass doors, to see what was causing the vibration.
Nothing. Darkness.
Marshall frowned.
Something was coming. Something big.
And then he saw it.
Marshall didn't wait for another look. He just turned and ran -- down the steps, away from the entrance -- a bare two seconds before the library's enormous doors were blasted from their hinges like a pair of matchsticks.
Swain and Holly were halfway to the rotunda when it happened.
A booming, thunderous roar echoed across the park behind them.
Swain stopped and spun. The pouring rain pelted down against his face. 'Oh no,' he said. 'Not again.'
The Karanadon was standing at the top of the steps of the main entrance. The huge glass doors of the library, now totally destroyed, lay in pieces in front of the enormous black beast. NSA agents were running in all directions to get away from it.
The Karanadon paid no attention to the people fleeing from it. In fact, it didn't even acknowledge their presence at all. It just stopped at the top of the steps and stood there, its head turning in a slow, wide arc.
Scanning the area.
Searching.
And then it saw them. Exposed between the treeline and the big white rotunda, standing there in the pouring rain.
The huge beast roared loudly.
And then it leapt forward and with frightening speed, covered the distance between the library and the treeline in seconds. It bounded quickly forward, charging through the sleeting rain, its every step shaking the muddy earth beneath it.
Swain and Holly ran for the rotunda. They reached it and climbed the steps, up onto the circular concrete stage.
The Karanadon hit the treeline and crashed through the branches of one of the giant oaks, charging toward the rotunda.
Then it stopped. Ten yards away. And watched them for several seconds.
They were trapped on the stage.
Marshall had his radio out.
'I'll give
The radio crackled back.
'I don't give a flying fuck what you're looking at! Get someone over here
Swain led Holly over to the far side of the stage. He picked her up as the Karanadon moved slowly closer. The rain drummed loudly on the roof of the rotunda.
'Stay down,' Swain said, as he lowered Holly over the railing at the edge of the stage. She dropped lightly to the ground, six feet below.
The Karanadon reached the base of the rotunda. The pouring rain had wet its fur, slicking it down like a dog's. A running trickle of rainwater ran down a crease in its long black snout, dripped ominously off one of its huge canine teeth.
The big beast took a slow step up the stairs.
Swain moved in an arc around the circumference of the stage, away from Holly.
The Karanadon stepped up onto the stage.
It stared at Swain.
There was an endless, tense silence.
Swain drew his Glock.
The Karanadon growled in response. A low, angry growl.
Neither of them moved.
And then suddenly Swain made a break for the railing and the Karanadon bounded forward after him.
Swain reached the railing and had just started to vault over it when a giant black claw snatched his collar and snapped him backwards, and he landed in the centre of the concrete stage with a loud smack.
The Karanadon stood astride Stephen Swain and lowered its snout until it was face-to-face with him. It had his gun hand pinned to the stage beneath one of its massive hairy claws.
Swain tried in vain to turn away from its hideous fangs, its foul hot breath, its dark wrinkled snout, set in a perpetual sneer.
The Karanadon cocked its head slightly, seemingly daring him to escape.
It was then that Swain turned his head and saw the beast's hind foot step forward.
