Dark Zone

113

They’d gotten no more than three or four hundred yards from the power car when the tunnel behind them exploded. Dean, with Lia still on his back, flew down face-first into the tracks, slamming so hard he blacked out. When he came to, Lia was clawing at him, pulling him forward.

“Come on,” she said. “Come on.”

“Wait.”

“No!”

A roar filled his ears. His face was wet and he thought he’d cut himself.

Then he realized his pants and shirt were wet as well.

“Come on!” Lia screamed. “Water’s flooding the tracks. The access tunnel is there. Go! Come on!”

Dean got up, then stumbled as a wave of water pushed at him from the back.

“Come on!” Lia yelled, pulling at him.

Water was everywhere. By the time they managed the twenty or thirty yards to the access doorway it was to his knees.

Lights were flashing in the service area. Alarms were sounding, but above it all Dean could hear the rush of water.

“This way,” said Lia. “Toward France.”

“It’s miles.”

“You want to wait for the water to reach us? Go! Go!”

Dean started after her. She tripped over something and, unable to stop himself, he tripped over her. They tumbled down against the concrete, sprawling.

“I don’t think I can go any further,” he said.

“You have to,” she hissed, pushing up.

“Stay where you are,” said a voice in French.

Dean looked up to see a French FAMAS assault rifle in his face. He’d never been so happy to have a gun pointed at him in his life.