‘Lock down everything within a three-mile radius,’ he growled through gritted teeth to the soldier next to him. ‘They’re somewhere nearby; nobody, not even these beastwalker fucks, can just up and vanish into thin goddamn air. They’re here, and whoever is hiding them is going to fucking pay. Nobody, and I mean not a single living soul leaves this area until those fuckers are found. Got it?’
The soldier nodded and saluted.
‘Sir yes sir!’ he barked gruffly. ‘It’s a lockdown, sir!’
He scurried off to carry out the order, and the old man turned around and got his phone out. There was a message waiting on the screen that cheered him up, and when he opened it up and read it, the ends of his mouth curled faintly upwards into a phantom of a smile.
The Propaganda Department has taken care of the teenagers, sir. Check out CNN, Fox News, YouTube, MSN etc in a couple minutes.
He shoved his phone back into his pocket, nodded with silent approval and shuffled back over to the helicopter, his cane clacking arrhythmically on the street as he did, like the lone hoof of some lamed devil.
Inside the Blackhawk, the pilot leaned over to the co-pilot and whispered under his breath.
‘Who is that old guy again, man?’
The co-pilot raised an eyebrow before responding.
‘You’re new on the job, huh?’
‘First day today.’
‘Yeah, that figures. Well, buddy, that old guy just happens to be Mr Nathan Deveraux.’
‘Nathan Deveraux? Should I know who that is?’
The co-pilot rolled his eyes and shook his head.
‘Shit, you really are new here. Nathan Graham Deveraux, vice-president of the Huntsmen Corporation. You wanna keep this job, you’d best not forget that.’
***
‘You, girl, pull the red catch to your left, now!’ Zakaria bellowed at Paola, unbuckling his seatbelt with hasty fingers. ‘Do it! Those choppers will turn us all to ashes in less than a minute if you don’t!’
Paola, too traumatised and terrified to do anything but obey, pulled the red-painted lever to her left. The floor of the van dropped abruptly away, and the teens screamed as they and the unconscious tiger plummeted into the void that appeared beneath them. They did not fall very far or long, though; twelve feet below them was a large foam mattress that gently stopped their abrupt descent.
‘Boy!’ Zakaria shouted into the hole at Daekwon. ‘Pull your wounded friend out of the way, and the tiger if you can! We’re coming in after you!’
Without waiting for Daekwon to respond, Zakaria grabbed Chloe. Before she could even think of resisting, he flung her like a sack of potatoes into the back, where she too fell through the hole with a shriek of fright. Daekwon had managed to haul Jun off the mattress, but the tiger was still lying there, and Chloe only barely missed landing on him. Zakaria came down a second later, hitting the edge of the mattress and turning his landing into an acrobatic roll, from which he came up on his feet.
The teens found themselves in New York’s sewer network, or at least, that was what they guessed without being able to see much; as dark and gloomy as it was down here, the septic-feeling damp and gut-churning, pervasive stench of raw sewage made it impossible for them to imagine that they were anywhere else.
Before anyone could say anything, a new voice – that of a woman in her thirties, from the sound of it – called out to them from the shadows.
‘The Huntsmen are tracking those rug rats’ phones, Zakaria. At least one a’ the lil’ shits must have a MANMO-M device. Make ‘em toss their damn phones, now!’
‘You heard her,’ grunted Zakaria. ‘If you have a MANMO-M device drop it now, or we all die.’
Daekwon, like the others, was too frightened and overwhelmed to argue. He pulled out his MANMO-M phone and dropped it onto the mattress.
‘Anyone else?!’ Zakaria shouted sharply. ‘I am not joking!’
Everyone else simply shook their heads.
‘Good. You, big boy, pick up your wounded friend … then all of you, run!’
The moment he said this a bright light flickered on behind him, illuminating the sewer tunnel in a blaze of icy white light. Silhouetted against the massive LED lamp was the figure of a long-limbed woman with a large afro.
‘This way!’ she cried. ‘Hurry!’
Daekwon scooped up Jun in both arms and took off at a quick clip, following Paola and Chloe, who needed no encouragement to bolt.
‘Keep running until you get to the next light!’ the woman ordered as the teens raced past her. ‘Wait for us there!’
She sprinted in the opposite direction, towards Zakaria, who was dragging the tiger off the mattress.
‘Come on, come on!’ he yelled. ‘It’s going to blow any second!’
The woman skidded to a halt next to him, and the pair of them managed to lift the tiger, after which they began as hasty a retreat as they could manage. Before they run even ten paces, though, a tremendous explosion thundered its destructive wrath through the sewer from above. A plume of billowing flame burst like an inverted mushroom cloud from the manhole, accompanied by an ear-splitting blast and a shock wave that rocked the walls and ceiling with sharp and sudden violence, causing showers of cement dust and masonry grit to rain down and pelt the fleeing figures. Shrapnel fragments spewed like dragon spittle from the opening, and Zakaria screamed and stumbled forward as a number of the white-hot projectiles buried themselves in his back. Others ricocheted off the walls, while some pieces zipped into the filthy water, hissing with wrathful vehemence as they sank.
‘Shit! Damn it, shit, shit!’
