Violent Current

The freezing water slammed into my chest, knocking the breath completely out of my lungs.

"Keep your head up, Valerie!" Garrison shouted from the darkness behind me. His large hand grabbed the strap of my backpack, hauling me upward against the violent current of the drainage line.

"I can't touch the bottom!" I gasped, my boots scraping uselessly against the slick concrete pipe. The water tasted like rust and sulfur, burning the back of my throat. "Garrison, the current is pulling too hard!"

"Float on your back!" he ordered, his voice echoing off the tight iron walls of the tube. "The main overflow valve is fifty yards ahead! It opens into the lower transit station! Don't let your feet catch on the structural grates!"

I flipped over, letting the black water carry me forward. The pipe was completely dark, save for the faint green glow of the watch on Garrison’s wrist just a few inches from my face. The rushing sound of the water grew louder, turning into a deafening roar as the pipe began to tilt downward at a sharp angle.

"Hold your breath!" Garrison yelled.

The floor disappeared beneath us. We dropped ten feet through empty air, crashing hard into a massive, shallow concrete reservoir. The water here was only waist-deep, but the impact sent a violent shudder through my ribs. I scrambled to my feet, coughing and spitting out the foul liquid, my hands clawing at the concrete edge of the pool.

Garrison rose beside me like a shadow, his dark hair plastered to his forehead. He didn't look tired. He looked hyper-focused, his eyes scanning the massive underground cavern we had just entered.

"This is the lower transit station," I said, looking at the rusted iron tracks stretching into the darkness on either side of the pool. The air here was freezing, but it was clear of the red fog. The air scrubbers on this level were still running on an independent power cell.

"Thorne's private lift terminates right at the main platform," Garrison said, stepping out of the water and checking the small sidearm he had salvaged from the lab. "The high-speed automated rail car connects directly to the northern military capital. If he boards that car, we will never catch him."

"And Cynthia is with him," I said, my teeth chattering violently as the cold air hit my wet clothes. "She has the serum, Garrison. If they reach the capital, Thorne will use her to infect the remaining command structure."

"They aren't reaching anything," Garrison growled, tracking a row of yellow floor lights toward the main platform. "Move, Valerie. Keep low."

We sprinted along the edge of the tracks, our wet boots making sharp slapping sounds against the concrete. The station was completely empty, a ghost town of iron pillars and abandoned maintenance carts.

Suddenly, a high-pitched electronic whine echoed from the far end of the platform.

A sleek silver transit car lit up with bright white LED bars along its chassis. The pneumatic doors were open, and through the glass windows, I could see Dr. Thorne frantically loading silver data briefcases into the main console.

"There they are!" I whispered, pointing toward the platform.

Cynthia stood outside the car door, her tall silhouette rigid as she looked around the dark station. Her eyes caught the yellow floor lights, glowing like hot coals. She didn't look like my sister anymore. She looked like a predator guarding its territory while her master prepared the escape.

Garrison raised his pistol, bracing his forearm against an iron pillar to steady his aim.

"Stay behind me, Valerie."

"Garrison, wait," I said, grabbing his elbow. "The windows on that car are reinforced military grade. A sidearm won't pierce them. If you fire and miss, Cynthia will be on us before you can reload."

"I am not aiming for the windows," Garrison said, his voice flat.

He pulled the trigger.