Odd Girl Out

'That's only five minutes away.'

'So keep the doors locked for four,' I gritted, peering along the side of the train. The two baggage cars at the rear were about ten cars away, I estimated. At the rate I was going, four minutes was going to be pushing it.

'Mr. Compton!' Rebekah said urgently, her hand tightening on my arm. 'They're coming!'

I half turned, swinging Bayta's body out of the way so I could see. The walkers I'd seen moving in our direction earlier had broken into jogs of their own.

And it didn't take a computerized range finder to realize they would reach us well before we made it to the baggage cars. 'Bayta, can you slow them down?' I called, turning back around and trying to pick up my pace.

There was no answer. But I wasn't really expecting one. Clenching my teeth, I kept going, wondering how the hell I was going to take on eight walkers all by myself.

And then, with a multiple thunk of expanding car couplings, the Quadrail beside us began to roll forward.

What the hell? 'Bayta?' I snapped.

'They're moving the train forward for us,' she called back.

Thereby shortening the distance I had to run. 'Good—keep it up,' I told her. 'Let me know when the walkers are fifty meters away. Rebekah? You all right?'

'I'm fine,' she called bravely. But I could hear the trembling in her voice.

Small wonder. Back on New Tigris, she'd been quietly terrified at the prospect of falling into the Modhri's hands Now, with the end of the journey beckoning, that same horrible threat was suddenly looming again.

I blinked the sweat out of my eyes. It wasn't going to happen, I told myself firmly. Whatever it took, whatever the cost I was going to get her out of this.

We were running alongside the second to the last of the passenger cars when Bayta gave me the warning. 'Fifty meters,' she called.

'Right,' I said, wishing I could look for myself but knowing I didn't dare take the time. 'Tell the Spiders to stop the train.'

There was a multiple screech as the Quadrail's brakes engaged, followed by another sequential clunking as the couplings recompressed. The door to the last third-class car was just ahead, and with a final lunge I threw myself through it. 'Close it!' I snapped. Rebekah was still gripping my arm, and I twisted my torso around a little to make sure she was all the way in.

'They can't stay closed for long,' Bayta warned as the door irised shut. 'The conductors are still outside.'

'Time?' I asked.

'Ninety seconds to departure.'

'Keep us locked down another thirty seconds,' I told her. Resettling her weight across my shoulder, I started down the aisle.

Travel, according to cliche, broadened the mind, and there was no doubt that the typical Quadrail travelers had had their minds broadened as much as anyone's. Nonetheless, if the stares I collected on my way down the car were any indication, this was a new one on pretty much everyone.

Fortunately for them, none of them made any attempt to stop us.

We were about a third of the way down the aisle when the train again started up, jostling everyone in the car and nearly dumping me on my face. We continued on, and as the train started angling up the slope leading out of the station we reached the car's rear door and slipped through into the first baggage car.

'What do we do now?' Rebekah asked as the door slid shut behind us.

'We get ready for company,' I said, gingerly sliding Bayta off my aching shoulder and setting her down on her feet on the floor. 'Bayta, turn around.'

'There is a plan, then?' Bayta asked as she swiveled around to put her back to me.

'There was,' I said, pulling out my lockpick. 'Unfortunately, it's now been just slightly shot to hell.'

Bayta threw a look at Rebekah. 'I hope you have a new one.'

'In production as we speak,' I assured her. 'Rebekah, go push on the stacks of crates nearest the door. See if you can figure out which one's the lightest.'

'Okay.'

Her tour of the stacks took about a minute, the same minute it took me to get Bayta's wrist and ankle cuffs off. 'This one, I think,' she said, pointing to the stack to the right of the door.

'Good,' I said, flipping out my multitool's tiny knife, the only genuine weapon allowed inside the Tube. Stepping to the door side of Rebekah's stack, I reached up and cut a long vertical slit in the safety webbing. I pried the webbing open, then jabbed the knife into the side of one of the crates midway up 'Okay,' I said, getting a grip on the multitool. 'I'll pull. You two go around on the other side and push.'

The stack was a lot heavier than it looked, and it took a good half minute of grunting to get it to tip. But finally, and with a horrible crash, it came down, spreading its constituent crates all across the floor in front of the doorway.

'That won't stop them for long,' Bayta warned as she surveyed our handiwork.

'It won't stop them at all,' I corrected, hopping up on the nearest of the fallen crates and starting on the webbing of the stack on the other side of the door. 'Bayta, can you climb up that stack over there and get ready to push the top of this one?

'I'll do it,' Rebekah volunteered before Bayta could answer. Grabbing a double handful of webbing, she started up.

I returned my attention to my own stack and finished slicing through the webbing. 'Bayta, give me a hand here,' I called as I again stuck the blade into the side of one of the crates.

'They're coming,' Bayta murmured as she got into position around the back side of the stack.

'I know,' I said. 'Rebekah?'

'Almost ready,' she called.

I nodded and got a grip on the multitool. Dropping this stack on top of the first one ought to leave the door properly blocked.

I was still standing there, waiting for Rebekah to get into position, when the door slid open and a large Halka strode though.

For a split second I hesitated, trying to decide if I could take the time to pull my multitool out of the crate so that I would have at least that much of a weapon in hand. Probably not, I concluded regretfully, and started to step away from the stack into the Halka's path.

But to my surprise, I found Bayta was already there. 'Stop!' she ordered, her voice bold and menacing, her hands upstretched like a wizard from a dit rec fantasy standing against the oncoming hordes of hell.

It was so unexpected that the Halka actually stopped, the Modhri controlling him apparently as stunned by Bayta's action as I was.

And as he and Bayta stared across the two-meter gap at each other, she with righteous anger, he with utter disbelief, I felt the stack beside me start to tip. Breaking my own paralysis, I threw my full weight against my multitool.

By the time the Halka saw it coming, it was already too late. He leaped into the car, but the top of the falling stack caught him across his upper back, slamming him forward and downward as the rest of the crates fell in a jumble across the doorway.

But he wasn't down and out, not yet. Even as I charged him, he struggled to his hands and knees, his flat bulldog face sniveling back and forth as he looked for a target. He spotted me and reared up on his knees, cocking his arm and closed right hand over his shoulder.

I beat the throw by about a quarter second, sending a spinning kick to the side of his head that twisted him a quarter turn on his knees before dropping him flat on his face.

And as the thud of his landing echoed across the car, his hand opened and something small and lumpy rolled through the limp fingers onto the floor.

A chunk of Modhran coral.

Beside me, I heard a sharp intake of air, and I turned to find Bayta staring wide-eyed at the coral. 'It's all right,' I said quickly. 'He never got it anywhere near me.'

There was a thud from somewhere. I looked over at the pile of crates as a second thud sounded, and saw the box immediately in front of the door quiver. 'That's not going to hold him for long,' Bayta said tightly.