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“BUT THEY’RE our people. Are you sure they won’t get hurt?”
Amos crouched on the metal catwalk above the Enclave’s maintenance cavern. Aubrey’s voice carried from the narrow crevice behind him. The cavern below was dimly-lit—they’d managed to beat the beginning of the day shift.
Megan assisted Aubrey as her feet landed on the catwalk. Salt water trickled from the crevice behind her, a warning of what was to come.
Aubrey pulled herself up, grasping the rail for support. Her mouth fell open when she saw the vast array of hulking machinery below.
“I know they’re our people.” Amos raised his voice to be heard as the machines groaned and popped into grating life. He gestured at the growing rivulet of ocean water. “It won’t take long for them to figure out what’s happening.”
Mateo slid down to join them. He was a wild sight, disheveled and bloody. His clothing, rain and sea-soaked, clung to his body as he strove to catch his breath.
Behind him, the trickle of ocean water began to gush with greater insistence, the salty brine pulsing through the catwalk’s mesh flooring.
Megan eyed him. “Where is it?”
Mateo gulped another breath of air, wiping moisture from his face. “I pitched it into the ocean, where it promptly sank to the bottom. It’s unlikely anyone will bother searching for it there. The Citizens will have more pressing concerns.”
Nothing like a leak in the dam to create a diversion. Amos savored the taste of their improvised solution. I’ll bet Darcy never considered this outcome when he installed that door.
Their discovery of the sealed door had shocked the team into stunned immobility. They’d stared at the fused metal as the incoming tide lapped at their ankles. It was Mateo who sprang into action.
He seized the circular handle, wrenching it sideways with his Tracker-enhanced strength. The metal bulkhead resisted him at first, but then the door buckled outward. A metallic shriek pierced the air inside the confined space as the handle ripped free from its moorings.
Mateo didn’t pause, tossing the twisted handle aside. He continued tearing at the sealed portal. Cracks appeared along the upper right corner, spreading like a spider’s web around the sturdy hinge.
The door was designed to open outward, in deference to the water pressure at high tide. The hinges gave Mateo another grip in his relentless assault.
He was a gory mess by the time the hatch, twisted and misshapen, was wrenched free. Blood dripped from multiple cuts on his forearms, and his hands were raw and trembling from the exertion. He dropped the crumpled door behind him, falling to his knees as if the effort exhausted what was left of his strength.
The Runners gathered on either side of the ragged opening. Aubrey reached out a hand, but refrained from touched the sharp edges.
Mateo struggled to his feet. His wounds were already beginning to heal. Amos tried not to stare. I’ve never imagined this could be possible.
Mateo seized the twisted remains of the door, dragging it toward the beach. The incoming tide lapped at the hatch’s lower threshold as he splashed past them.
Amos led the way through the ruined doorway, ducking through the narrow crevice to stand on the catwalk. We’re here, inside the Enclave. With a diversionary tactic none of us would’ve dreamed of.
“It would be unwise to remain here.” Mateo flexed his hands as they regenerated. The lacerations on his arms were closed, and he was no longer losing blood. Amos wondered if his scars would eventually fade as well.
Another gush of seawater surged behind them, as the trickle became an ever-growing stream. The volume of water was increasing as the tide continued its inexorable return. Without the door to hold the ocean at bay, the stream would soon become a raging torrent, flooding the maintenance level and wreaking havoc on the machinery.
“You’re sure there’s no danger to the workers.” Aubrey grasped the railing with both hands, leaning over to take in the dizzying view. “They’ll make it out before it’s too late?”
“The Citizens will dispatch emergency crews.” Megan laid a hand on Aubrey’s shoulder. “They won’t want floating corpses to slow the repair crews.”
Amos winced at the stricken look on Aubrey’s face. Wrong approach, Megan. I guess tact and diplomacy aren’t part of your programming.
Mateo came to Aubrey’s rescue. “The Citizens won’t waste assets. Workers are a valuable resource. The machines, however, were never designed for immersion in seawater.”
“I don’t want their deaths on my conscience.” Aubrey glanced at the volume of the water cascading through the broken wall. “How long will it last?”
“The tide will peak in six hours before it recedes again,” Mateo replied promptly, back to his instructor role. “The higher the tide, the greater the water pressure behind it.”
He turned abruptly. “We’re wasting valuable time.”
He began to jog along the catwalk, setting a brisk pace. Amos brought up the rear, urging his companions to keep pace with Mateo. We’re making up for lost time. Garr’s team is counting on us.
Aubrey ran with one hand poised above the handrail, as if she might need to steady herself at any moment. Amos noticed she avoided looking down as she ran, keeping her eyes fixed on Mateo’s back.
Vertigo. Amos glanced through the catwalk’s mesh flooring and guessed the source of her unease. There’s no hiding how high the catwalk is.
Everyone was out of breath by the time they reached the first ascending staircase. The sole exception was Mateo, who appeared invigorated by the exercise.
Megan halted without warning, one foot on the first step, grasping the handrails for support. Amos almost collided with her. Something behind them had captured her attention. Aubrey gasped beside him, her scarred hand rising to cover her mouth.
Amos whirled around, expecting to face attack.