Page 16 of The Unraveling
Garrett raised his left arm at an angle, and Hakim rammed into his forearm, chest height, punching the breath from Garrett’s lungs. He strained around the move and pushed his left shoulder forward to force Hakim back. Struggled to bring the weapon into a firing position, even as the breath choked out of him.
Hakim shifted suddenly.
A searing cut blazed across Garrett’s forearm. He gritted through it, still determined to bring the Sig to bear. End this guy. With a roar, he shoved the terrorist backward. Got a foot between them. Snapped up his weapon and eased back the trigger. Once. Twice.
Gaping as blood slid between his eyes, Hakim slumped to the ground. Dead.
A scream came from the interior of the freight car.
“Delaney!” He snatched the knife and slapped the access panel. Shouldered into the door, weapon at the ready.
To the right, he spotted a flurry of activity that moved out of sight. He angled that way as he heard Delaney shout for Surge to attack.
Around the corner of the container, he spotted?—
A blow to the back of his head pitched Garrett forward. He stumbled. Air rushed out of his mouth in a cough. But he drew up his weapon and came around—only to feel a bullet graze his shoulder. “Augh!” He wasn’t going down. Not with Delaney here. He fired a round as the guy rushed him again.
But this time, Surge appeared over the container. Barreled at the guy. Broadsided him, slamming him in the door of the juncture. He chomped into the tender spot of Tariq’s clavicle, eliciting a howl of agony.
It bought time for Garrett to get on his feet just as Delaney rounded the corner, her eyes wide. “Call him off,” he said, aiming the submachine gun at the guy.
“Surge, out,” Delaney said, the command fierce and controlled.
As soon as the maligator worked his teeth out of the shoulder and pushed away, Tariq lunged for his gun.
Garrett double-tapped the guy. Motioned Delaney to the side with Surge as he swiveled to Zim, who was panting hard. “You okay?”
The kid nodded. “With that guy down, yeah. At least he can’t use science for evil anymore.” He jutted his jaw. “Gotta stop the train.”
“Copy that.” Garrett headed back to the juncture and eyed the access panel. Hit it and the door popped open. He stepped in, weapon up.
The driver was hunched over the console and wheel, blood spilling across the white surface.
Garrett felt for a pulse. “Dead.” He eyed the console and huffed—set to autopilot. “They didn’t want anyone stopping it.”
Coming in with Delaney, Zim dropped his ruck to the floor, moved the chair back, and played around with the controls. He sighed. “I have no idea how to slow this.”
“Look it up,” Garrett grunted as he peered out the long, sloping window. “We have six mikes before this thing enters the city. Takes five to slow it. You have thirty seconds to figure it out.”
“Pressure, pressure,” Zim muttered, scanning the dials, switches, and screens. “Okay . . .” He flicked a switch. “Autopilot is off. This . . . is almost like a video game.”
“Except this one has real, deadly consequences.”
“Right,” Zim muttered and tapped on some screens.
“Twenty seconds.”
“Rogue, kiss him so he’ll shut up.” Zim reached for the throttle. “At least I’ve played enough games to use a joystick. What if . . .” He pulled it down slowly, the train slowing from bullet speed. “Ah, there we go . . .”
“Thank You, God,” Delaney whispered, stepping toward Garrett with a shuddering breath. He slumped into the seats as the train dropped out of warp and slowed.
Peering out the window, Garrett saw Frank’s chopper and a few others now. “And here comes the cavalry.” He stood, ducking to see better out the window as the train screeched to a stop. “I think we did it . . .” He laughed. Clapped Zim’s shoulder. “Good job.”
“Hey.” Delaney shifted toward him. Touched his arm.
“Yeah?” He turned to her.
She pointed at the blood on his shirt. “You were shot. Are you okay?”