repairs to sections of the walls - obviously areas where the creatures had escaped by tearing through the very stone. These were now braced against the pressure of the ocean by massive steel girders and thick plating.
Surrounding Talbot stood some sixty marines; ferocious-looking warriors armed to the teeth, tense and ready, their expressions set and determined. They each carried rifles, their barrels flared out at the end like a trumpet, reminiscent of the ancient blunderbuss. The weapons were hooked via cable into a self-contained power pack which each marine carried on his back, shoulder straps securing the load and making it as comfortable as possible.
In stark contrast to these formidable combatants, Wes lay stretched out on the ground, apparently sleeping, his M4A5 resting across his chest, its under-slung M203A1- 40mm grenade launcher seemingly in wait of action. Talbot could hear him snoring slightly.
Talbot gazed at the rift; the source of all their problems.
It stood around sixty feet high, a swirling void occasionally crackling loudly from the electricity concentrated on it. He had been expecting something spectacular, but apart from the fact it hung unsuspended vertically in the air, the rift itself was quite boring to look at.
Irregular edges constantly swirled and changed, framing nothing. That was the best explanation for it: nothing. It was so hard to actually focus on; his eyes seemed to slide away from it, fastening to the walls behind or ceiling above. The rift wasn't even black in the sense of the word, but black was the closest thing he could liken it to; it seemed to leech the light from around it, sucking all illumination into its cavernous maw.
A startling ripple of color flowed suddenly over the darkness, like a trapped rainbow. Starting innocuously along the bottom, left edge, it flowed up from the blackness, flitting across the surface of the inky pond to the top edge, and then it was gone.
"All right, gentlemen," the general's voice intoned from the control room. "We will be disabling power to the rift in thirty seconds. Stand ready."
The soldiers instantly raised their weapons to their shoulders, and a strange humming filled the room.
"Better stand back here with me, Doc," cautioned a voice in Talbot's ear making him jump. Spinning, he came face to face with Wes, clear-eyed and bearing an intensity upon his features Talbot immediately equated with danger. He motioned for Talbot to follow him, his eyes never leaving the rift.
Talbot moved to comply, wondering at this strange man who could go from a deep sleep to being instantly alert within seconds. They stepped to the back of the room - closest to the emergency exit, Talbot noticed.
"If I tell you to move, get through that door and keep running until I give you the all-clear to stop. Understand?"
Talbot nodded, unable to question this figure of authority who, up until now, he had begun to think was merely a smartass - albeit a smartass who might just happen to be good with a gun.
Wes - whoever the hell he was - was turning out to be a whole lot more than that.
Alarms sounded, and every weapon in the room aimed directly at the rift. Red lights flashed, and the tension became almost unbearable.
A new voice - not the general's - came over the speakers. "Cutting power to the rift in five... four... three... two... one!"
The rift instantly stopped crackling and seemed to expand slightly, as though released from chains. No one seemed to breathe.
A howl echoed through the area. The lights flickered.
"Oh shit," whispered Wes. "Run. Now! "
Talbot turned just as all of the lights in the room exploded, spraying the marines with glass. The howling pierced directly into his brain, causing him to pause.
"I said run, you fucking idiot!" roared Wes, grabbing him and propelling them both through the thick steel door. The SAS commando spun and hit a button on the wall as the door slammed shut. Heavy bolts slammed home inside the steel door, and a
Surrounding Talbot stood some sixty marines; ferocious-looking warriors armed to the teeth, tense and ready, their expressions set and determined. They each carried rifles, their barrels flared out at the end like a trumpet, reminiscent of the ancient blunderbuss. The weapons were hooked via cable into a self-contained power pack which each marine carried on his back, shoulder straps securing the load and making it as comfortable as possible.
In stark contrast to these formidable combatants, Wes lay stretched out on the ground, apparently sleeping, his M4A5 resting across his chest, its under-slung M203A1- 40mm grenade launcher seemingly in wait of action. Talbot could hear him snoring slightly.
Talbot gazed at the rift; the source of all their problems.
It stood around sixty feet high, a swirling void occasionally crackling loudly from the electricity concentrated on it. He had been expecting something spectacular, but apart from the fact it hung unsuspended vertically in the air, the rift itself was quite boring to look at.
Irregular edges constantly swirled and changed, framing nothing. That was the best explanation for it: nothing. It was so hard to actually focus on; his eyes seemed to slide away from it, fastening to the walls behind or ceiling above. The rift wasn't even black in the sense of the word, but black was the closest thing he could liken it to; it seemed to leech the light from around it, sucking all illumination into its cavernous maw.
A startling ripple of color flowed suddenly over the darkness, like a trapped rainbow. Starting innocuously along the bottom, left edge, it flowed up from the blackness, flitting across the surface of the inky pond to the top edge, and then it was gone.
"All right, gentlemen," the general's voice intoned from the control room. "We will be disabling power to the rift in thirty seconds. Stand ready."
The soldiers instantly raised their weapons to their shoulders, and a strange humming filled the room.
"Better stand back here with me, Doc," cautioned a voice in Talbot's ear making him jump. Spinning, he came face to face with Wes, clear-eyed and bearing an intensity upon his features Talbot immediately equated with danger. He motioned for Talbot to follow him, his eyes never leaving the rift.
Talbot moved to comply, wondering at this strange man who could go from a deep sleep to being instantly alert within seconds. They stepped to the back of the room - closest to the emergency exit, Talbot noticed.
"If I tell you to move, get through that door and keep running until I give you the all-clear to stop. Understand?"
Talbot nodded, unable to question this figure of authority who, up until now, he had begun to think was merely a smartass - albeit a smartass who might just happen to be good with a gun.
Wes - whoever the hell he was - was turning out to be a whole lot more than that.
Alarms sounded, and every weapon in the room aimed directly at the rift. Red lights flashed, and the tension became almost unbearable.
A new voice - not the general's - came over the speakers. "Cutting power to the rift in five... four... three... two... one!"
The rift instantly stopped crackling and seemed to expand slightly, as though released from chains. No one seemed to breathe.
A howl echoed through the area. The lights flickered.
"Oh shit," whispered Wes. "Run. Now! "
Talbot turned just as all of the lights in the room exploded, spraying the marines with glass. The howling pierced directly into his brain, causing him to pause.
"I said run, you fucking idiot!" roared Wes, grabbing him and propelling them both through the thick steel door. The SAS commando spun and hit a button on the wall as the door slammed shut. Heavy bolts slammed home inside the steel door, and a
Similar Books
