Extinction (21 page)

As they neared the platform, they heard human voices, dozens of them, raised in anger. A small-scale riot seemed to have broken out. As they emerged from the tunnel they saw people armed with knives and bottles trying to attack a cordon of riot police, who pushed back against them with their shields and batons.

Jack and Alyssa both saw the cameras mounted on the platform walls and instinctively lowered their heads. A train came along then and stopped at the platform. Those who were going to get off here thought better of it and backed away inside as scared commuters pushed and shoved their way on to the train, Jack and Alyssa among them. The doors closed and the train pulled away, leaving the violence and chaos behind.

Feeling safe at last within the crush of other passengers, Alyssa took Jack’s hand and squeezed it.

The next station was much quieter, and there were no armed guards on the platform; perhaps all personnel near the scene of the riot had been called on to help quell it.

Jack and Alyssa stepped off the train and made straight for the ticket barriers. They were stopped by a ticket officer, but Alyssa told him they’d come from the riot on the next platform and had lost their tickets in the confusion. The officer, obviously used to such stories over the past few days, simply sighed and buzzed them through. There were more important things to worry about, it seemed.

‘Where are we?’ asked Jack as they emerged into the bright light of day. Alyssa just turned and pointed across the main road. There, opposite them, was the central park, famous around the world. ‘Well, how’d I miss that?’ he asked brightly, trying to dispel the fear and desperation that had been filling him.

‘So what now?’ Alyssa asked, looking around for cops or soldiers.

‘Right now, we stop a taxi and get the hell out of the city,’ Jack said.

Alyssa nodded. A taxi wouldn’t be monitored in the same way as buses or trains – you didn’t need to buy tickets, for one thing – and the only person who would see you was the taxi driver.

‘A taxi’s fine for now,’ Alyssa said, raising her arm to flag one down, ‘but we might need to ditch it before we leave the city. There are roadblocks and security checks everywhere, and taxis are bound to get stopped.’ She lowered her arm as a yellow cab stopped in front of them. ‘We’ll take it as far as the city limits, then we may have to get past the security checks on foot.’

Jack nodded as he opened the door for her. Alyssa got in the back, and Jack slid in next to her.

The driver turned round in his seat. ‘Where to?’ he asked in a strong local accent. ‘Just so long as wherever it is, you ain’t gotta be there anytime soon, know what I mean?’

Alyssa and Jack smiled. ‘No problem,’ Alyssa said. ‘We can see how crazy things are. Just to the bridge will be fine, thanks.’ She would have liked to go further, but she realized that all choke points such as bridges would be monitored.
Damn
. How were they going to get out of the city?

The driver turned back to face the road ahead. ‘Damn shame what’s happening to this city if you ask me,’ he said as he indicated to turn into the heavy traffic. ‘But it’s not the first time. I remember when—’

But Jack and Alyssa would never hear what the man was going to say, as the back of his head exploded towards them, his brain spraying through the chicken wire grill and covering their faces with greasy, bright-red blood.

It was a shame he’d had to kill the cab driver, Santana thought as he raced with four of his men towards the car; but he couldn’t afford for the man to pull out and his prey to escape. Not after it had taken him so long to find them.

But now, trapped in an immobile vehicle, it would be like shooting fish in a barrel; he’d simply run over and empty his magazine into the two fugitives through the window.

The pair had been picked up by CCTV footage as they emerged from the tunnel on to the station platform – Anderson had arranged for facial recognition software to be connected to the city’s system in order to quickly identify them. They had tried to hide their faces after they’d spotted the cameras, but by then it was too late.

They were tracked getting on to the train, and then cameras were monitored at the next platform along the route, where they were seen exiting. The station personnel had been sent over to help control the riot, but Santana was there with some of his men on foot in a matter of minutes.

He ignored the screams from fearful bystanders, who threw themselves for cover behind parked cars, and just kept his attention on the taxi, its windscreen now shattered and smeared with blood. His men were close behind him, their own weapons raised.

But then he heard the sound of the vehicle’s engine gunning, and the taxi was moving, not waiting for a gap in the traffic but smashing its way out, knocking another car sideways as it accelerated towards him.

Santana couldn’t help the cry of panic that escaped his lips as he dived to the side, the taxi’s fender missing him by an inch.

Jack cried out he was thrown back into his seat, Alyssa wrenching up on the handbrake as she violently twisted the wheel all the way round.

The taxi slid across the road, oncoming vehicles having to jam on their brakes, as the cab made a one hundred and eighty degree turn. Now pointing in the opposite direction, Alyssa gunned the engine again and accelerated off down the busy city street, towards the oncoming traffic. She kept her hand on the horn, gratified that the cars, vans and bikes were all moving out of her way. She wasn’t going fast, but it was fast enough to get them away from the armed soldiers behind them.

‘Where are you going?’ Jack asked. He pulled the dead cab driver back through the broken grille to the rear seats and climbed over into the front passenger seat.

It was a good question. Where the hell
was
she going? She could already hear sirens behind her. How far could they hope to get in a stolen taxi without a windshield and with a corpse in the back, in a city that was on full military lockdown?

‘I’ve no idea,’ she said through gritted teeth as she forced the cab onwards, weaving in and out of the oncoming traffic, one hand glued to the horn. ‘But anywhere’s better than here.’

There was a break in the traffic, a slight easing in the number of vehicles coming towards them, and for a time Alyssa managed to surge forwards, travelling parallel to the park. But then the reason for the break became all too clear, and Jack and Alyssa watched in horror as a sixty-ton main battle tank turned a corner on to the wide boulevard in front of them.

‘Are you sure about that?’ Jack asked quietly.

T
HE TANKS HAD
recently been brought into the city because of the growing unrest, more as a visual deterrent than anything else. It was never anticipated that they would be used but the sight of a sixty-ton hunk of armoured metal with a gun on top that looked as if could take out a small army on its own did wonders for crowd control.

Santana and his men were running down the street after the out-of-control taxi when the regular army M-251 main battle tank trundled on to the parkway ahead of them, its huge 120mm smoothbore cannon aimed down the street at the yellow cab.

Well, Santana had to admit, Colonel Anderson had certainly come through in spectacular style. Anderson was monitoring the situation and acting as the main point of liaison between the different security forces. Santana understood that General Tomkin had given the colonel temporary field command, and he was now authorized to do anything in his power to bring the two terrorists to justice.

Santana had seen what these tanks could do when he’d served in the Gulf. An armour-piercing flechette round had been fired at an enemy personnel carrier, and when Santana had arrived on the scene to arrest any survivors, he had been sickened by what he’d seen. The round had pierced the hull and created a vacuum inside the personnel compartment which instantly vaporized everything organic within it, air pressure sucking it back out of the vehicle. The image of the charred, burnt and bloody remains of the enemy soldiers that were scattered around the carrier had been forever imprinted on his memory. But – despite the devastation he knew such a weapon could create – he now
wanted
such a result. His eyes opened wide in anticipation.

Alyssa, too, had seen the devastation caused by such weapons during her own time in the Gulf; and she had also seen how the front end of the tanks gave a telltale lift a fraction of a second before they fired.

She kept on driving straight for the tank, even as its barrel swivelled towards them, locking on to its target. Closer, ever closer she drove, waiting for the front end to lift. If she missed it, she’d never know – they would both be dead instantly.

The cab was just four hundred feet away now, then three hundred, then—

The front end lifted and she yanked the wheel hard left. The gun fired, the ground shook with the sonic boom, and the cab mounted the kerb and smashed through a thick row of bushes into the park beyond.

Santana watched in disbelief and horror as the taxi swerved left and disappeared into the park, and the tank’s 120mm high-velocity projectile streaked up the road towards him.

With a yell, he and his men dived for cover, heads down. Santana heard the explosion – could feel the heat from the blast – and when he looked up, all he could see were the smoking, devastated remains of a haulage truck.

He keyed his cellphone to speak to Anderson, unsure what to say, but the colonel spoke first.

‘Don’t bother,’ he said. ‘I already know. I want you and your men to locate transportation and be mobile in case the cab leaves the park. I’ve notified other units as well.’

‘Yes, sir. And the tank?’ Santana asked.

‘The crew has its orders,’ Anderson replied.

‘It’s following us!’ Jack yelled at Alyssa, twisting in his seat to look through the rear windscreen.

‘I know, I can hear it!’ Alyssa yelled back, swerving to avoid a family, then swerving again to avoid a teenager riding a bike.

The sound of the tank trampling bushes, trees and benches was tremendous. Day-trippers, alarmed by the sight of the yellow cab careening through the park, now scattered in every direction as the tank bore down on them.

Alyssa pushed the car hard, jumping hills and tearing through underbrush, all the while struggling to avoid people who still hadn’t fled the park. She gunned it between a gap in a row of high trees, gasping as she emerged on to a softball pitch. There were screams from all over as the players scrambled to safety, spectators dropping down behind their seats.

‘What the hell are people doing out playing softball?’ Jack yelled. ‘Don’t they know the city’s on lockdown?’ He grunted as the car hit a hillock on the far side of the pitch and he was tossed painfully in his seat.

There was an explosion directly behind them, and their car was hurled twenty feet further forwards before it landed, regained traction, and accelerated off.

Jack turned in his seat again and gasped. The tank had driven straight through the line of trees, destroying them, and had loosed off another shell, obliterating the small hillock they had just driven over.

‘I think you’re going to have to drive faster,’ Jack said.

Alyssa just nodded and floored the pedal. There was another row of trees on the left and she yanked the wheel that way, breaking out on to a wide path with the trees providing a barrier between them and the tank.

Alyssa and Jack both let out involuntary screams as another explosion rocked the air. The rear passenger window smashed and they both turned, and saw a tree branch jammed across the back seat. The row of trees was now just a jumble of smouldering vegetation.

They had now almost reached the far side of the park. But what would they find on the other side? Probably more police officers and army soldiers, Alyssa thought bitterly, before she cut the thought off. There was no use in thinking like that. They would keep going until they were stopped.

Santana had put local resources of armed riot police and state troopers at every exit to the park. He was receiving real-time surveillance drone footage and had positioned himself at the most likely exit. He now waited – with his own men, three cars, two vans and twelve state troopers – as the taxi drew near.

He wondered if the tank would be able to get another shot off before the cab left the park. If it did, that would be great – Santana would see the cab and its occupants destroyed before his very eyes – and if not, then Santana would just have to do it himself.

‘We’re not going to make it,’ Jack breathed. He could see the exit block ahead, and behind them the tank was tracking its barrel to aim at them again.

‘Just keep watching that tank,’ Alyssa said, ‘and let me worry about the roadblock. Watch the front end, and shout loud when it lifts.’

‘What?’ Jack asked in confusion.

‘Just do it!’ Alyssa yelled, struggling to keep the car straight on the gravel path.

The park exit was just a quarter of a mile away, a ten-foot-wide open gate in the middle of an eight-foot-high steel fence.

‘It’s on the path!’ Jack cried out next to her. He knew that once its position was stabilized, the tank would fire on them again.

Alyssa ignored him.

‘Are you going to ram them?’ Jack asked. ‘There’s no way this little thing can break past all of them. What are you doing?’

‘Shut up, Jack,’ Alyssa snapped. ‘Just tell me when that front end lifts!’

They were so close now, just a hundred yards away.

‘Now!’ Jack yelled.

Instantly, she jerked the wheel to the right, careening off the path on to the trimmed entrance lawns. The tank’s 120mm shell streaked past them and through the open gateway, obliterating the waiting police vehicles. The air around them was filled with flame and heat but Alyssa kept her mind focused and her hands gripped tight to the wheel.

Jack turned from the scene of devastation outside the park exit to look where the cab was headed. He barely had time to close his eyes before the taxi hit the steel fence at sixty miles per hour.

As soon as Santana had seen the taxi swerve right, he had leapt to one side himself; he had seen this happen before.