Return to Atlantis: A Novel (51 page)

“I don’t
believe
it,” said Stikes, banging an exasperated hand on the glass as he saw movement in the firelit snow below. “It’s Chase!”

Nina shoved past the mercenary guarding her and pressed her nose to the window. To her delight, she saw a figure among the flaming remains of a snowmobile. “He’s still alive!” She gave Larry a triumphant look. The elder Chase beamed at the news.

“Not for long,” said Sophia, pushing between Group members to see for herself. She batted the guard’s arm. “You! You’ve got a gun—shoot him!”

The mercenary turned to Stikes for confirmation. “Do as she says,” he ordered. “Everyone move away from the door.”

The cabin was already crowded, and it became even more cramped as the other passengers pressed back so Stikes could slide open the door. A freezing, snow-laden wind blew in. The mercenary braced himself against the frame as he leaned out and aimed at the man below.

Eddie searched for cover. The nearest tree was the one the snowmobile had hit, flames licking up its trunk. But if he ran straight for it he would be presenting his back to the gunman above.

Instead he dived back into the piled snow as the MP5 fired. Bullets slapped into the drift and debris behind him. He rolled as he landed to offer the smallest possible target. The cable car was carrying his attacker inexorably
away; every passing moment would make him harder to hit.

But right now he was still well within range. Another roll as more shots kicked up fountains of snow. Each impact got closer, the mercenary adjusting his aim to follow him—

Everyone in the cable car flinched away from the noise of the MP5 as the mercenary fired.

Except Nina. She lashed out, knocking Stikes back from the door—then hurled herself bodily at the mercenary—

Tackling him out of the cable car.

“Nina!” Larry cried, but she was gone.

Trees rushed up at her. She screamed, the mercenary beneath her doing likewise as they plunged into the snow-laden foliage. Branches broke, the cracks louder and deeper as the limbs thickened farther down the tree—then suddenly the man slammed to a stop. Nina bounced painfully off him and tumbled, winded, the rest of the way to the ground. Blinded by spraying snow and thrashing boughs, she hit the hillside with a thud.

Warden looked out of the cable car in horror. “My God! We’ve got to get her back—she could be hurt, or even dead!”

“Wouldn’t that be a shame,” Sophia said quietly.

Stikes took out his radio. “This is Stikes! Chase and Dr. Wilde are on the hotel grounds, about five hundred yards from the village. They’re directly below the cable-car line near a burning tree. Dr. Wilde
must
be taken alive—she may need medical attention. My orders regarding Chase stand; I want him killed on sight.” He checked the scene behind. A figure was lolloping away from the fire toward the site of Nina’s touchdown. “He’s
still
alive!” He slammed the door shut in barely contained rage.

“A sentiment I’ve felt all too many times,” said Sophia.

Larry spoke up unexpectedly, all eyes turning to him. “What can I say? That’s my boy.” He smiled at the hostile gazes of the other passengers.

Eddie moved as quickly as he could down the hill, the steep slope and deep snow tough to negotiate even without an aching ankle. He reached the still-quivering tree, seeing no sign of his wife. “Nina! Can you hear me? Nina!”

“Ow …” came a muffled voice. He followed the sound, discovering a cartoonishly perfect Nina-shaped hole in a snowdrift. Its maker was spread-eagled at the bottom.

“Fuck me, I’ve found a snow angel,” he said, clearing away the snow. “Are you okay? Can you move?”

“No, and I dunno, in that order. Agh, Jesus …” Nina struggled to sit up, hair festooned with bits of branches and needles. “God
dammit!
Feels like my head’s coming off,” she said, pressing a hand against one temple—then looking around in alarm. “Eddie! The guy I pushed out of the cable car—where is he?”

Eddie hurriedly surveyed their surroundings. “I can’t see anyone … oh, hang on.” There was a dark patch beneath the tree, standing out against the snow even in the dying light. “Okay, I’ve found him. Don’t think he’ll give us any problems.”

Nina blearily followed his gaze to see the mercenary impaled on a branch thirty feet above like some grotesque Christmas ornament. Blood dribbled down the boughs below him. “He’s gone out on a limb.”

“Hey! Shit puns are my department.” He lifted her out of the snowdrift. “Where’s Dad?”

“In the cable car.” The gondola was now out of sight behind the trees. “And they’ve still got the statues too.”

Eddie looked in the other direction. Lights were descending
the mountainside from the hotel. “They’re coming. We’ve got to get to the village.”

“But they’ll be waiting for us,” Nina objected.

“Better than us waiting for them. Come on.” They set off through the snow.

The village soon came into view, the cable car’s elevated lower station standing out above the houses. The gondola had already reached its destination, but it would take Eddie and Nina another couple of minutes to wade through the snow to the edge of the hotel’s grounds, never mind the village proper. “Dammit!” said Nina. “They’ll be long gone when we get there.”

Eddie had other concerns. The main entrance to the grounds was marked by a large gate at the end of a bridge over the railway—and he had just spotted more lights spreading out from it. He looked uphill. The mercenaries from the hotel were now following their trail through the snow, torches bobbing as they yomped down the slope. “Shit! They’re catching up. Go that way.” He pointed to the right, beyond the village’s edge.

“What’s over there?”

“Not men with guns, and that’ll do me for now!”

Nina heard something over the
crump
of snow and their own panting, a deep rhythmic huffing like the breath of some giant animal. “It’s the train!” Past the bridge, glowing embers from the steam locomotive’s funnel swirled in the air as it headed back down the valley. “Eddie, the track goes right along the bottom of the grounds—if we can make it stop, we can get aboard.”

He was already judging distances and speeds: of the train, himself and Nina … and the two groups of mercenaries closing on them. “There won’t be time for it to stop.”

“Then how are we going to get on it?”

“Jump!”

“Jump?”

“What, you’ve never train-surfed before?”

“No, because it’s insane!”

“You never want to try anything new. Come on, hoof it!” They reached the fence and climbed over it.

The men coming from the gate had obviously been in radio contact with their comrades higher up; the dots of torchlight were all now heading along the bottom of the grounds. The group following Nina and Eddie’s trail were less than a hundred yards behind—and closing the gap.

The train was rapidly approaching, the clanking of the locomotive’s running gear growing louder. Another jab of pain stabbed through Eddie’s ankle, but he forced himself to run faster as the train came into view, traveling through a shallow cutting below. The carriage roofs were a couple of feet higher than the upper side. “There!” he shouted, pointing at a slight rise on the cutting’s edge. “Get ready to jump!” He grabbed Nina’s hand.

The locomotive surged past, belching steam and hot, sooty smoke. “Oh God!” Nina cried as they ran the last few yards. “We’re gonna
diiiie—
”

They leapt, clearing the gap—and landing hard on a metal roof. Nina staggered, but kept her footing—just. It was Eddie who stumbled, one foot slipping out from under him. He skidded across the roof, legs flailing over the side …

Nina still had hold of his hand. She gripped it with all her strength and wedged a heel against a domed ventilator cover. The jolt as she caught his weight felt as though her arm was tearing from its socket, but she fought through the pain and held on. Eddie dangled before managing to catch the carriage’s rain gutter with his boot’s ice-shredded toe. He forced himself back onto the roof.

Nina dropped on her butt with a bang. “Jesus!” she gasped, releasing his hand. “I thought you were going over!”

“So did I,” Eddie admitted, gasping for breath—and then coughing as a dirty cloud rolled over them. “Bloody hell! Let’s get off here before we end up smoked like fucking hams.”

He crawled along the roof, Nina behind him, and looked down. Like the locomotive, the carriages were vintage, with open platforms at each end. Eddie lowered Nina down, then thumped onto the platform himself.

A door led inside. They went through—to find the tourists taking the last train of the day staring at them in astonishment. Their touchdown on the roof had been far from quiet.

“What?” said Nina, deciding that nonchalance was as good a response as any. “I’ve got a ticket.” She fished inside her clothing to produce it; it was indeed a return fare.

“I don’t,” Eddie complained.

She flopped down in a seat and smiled. “Well, if the conductor comes along, you’ll just have to hide in the john.”