Dark Zone

107

The gangway of the power car was claustrophobic and smelled like a burnt transformer. Ahmed sat in the engineer’s plush velvet seat and pushed the levers. The transformers behind them began to hum.

It was theoretically possible to escape at least the blast — they had less than ten miles to go and just over ten minutes to do it. They’d have to clear the tunnel by a good margin to escape the blast, but it was possible.

Did he want to live?

Allah was offering him a choice. If he escaped he might have other triumphs.

Or he might be captured. More likely the latter.

The train stuttered forward.

God wasn’t offering him the choice; the devil was. Mussa reached toward the red brake switch on the left. As his fingers reached it, he threw his body against Ahmed’s head and arms, grabbing for the gun with his other hand.