Kill Switch by Jonathan Maberry Page B

“Little stuff like that. Kind of interested to know where the hell Erskine and the rest of the Gateway geeks are.”
    â€œKind of thinking they’re somewhere with their throats cut,” said Top.
    â€œMaybe. But there were our own people mixed in with the Chinese and Russians. I’m actually not leaning toward this being an invasion. More like a shared problem.”
    He nodded, looking unhappy. “Some kind of bioweapon that messes with people’s heads?”
    â€œOr something,” I said, nodding.
    â€œSheee-eeee-eeee-it,” he said, dragging it all the way out.
    â€œOkay,” said Bunny, “but what do we want to do about the city? Are we going into it?”
    â€œNot unless we have to,” I said. “Let’s document this machine, then find the Gateway team.”
    â€œWhen we do,” said Top, “I’m going to be okay with beating some answers out of someone. I’m going to go ugly on them and make it hurt.”
    â€œHooah,” said Bunny.
    â€œI’m in,” I agreed.
    We each took out small but powerful ultra-high-res cameras and began documenting everything. The machine, the city, everything.
    As he worked, Bunny very quietly said, “Do not let my calm, cool exterior fool you gentlemen. I am a really short step away from freaking the fuck out.”
    Top was leaning in to take flash pictures of the interior of the big machine. “Hell, Farm Boy, don’t go thinking you hold the patent on being sphincter-clenching scared. I would give your left nut to be ten thousand miles away from right here.”
    â€œIs ten thousand miles really far enough?” mused Bunny.
    The cameras went flash-flash-flash. Water dripped behind us, somewhere in the city. And several times I heard the soft, shuffling feet of heavy and awkward bodies. I couldn’t see more of the penguins, but we could smell them. Bunny kept throwing uneasy glances over his shoulder. His face and shirt were still stained with his blood. It’s always hard to keep your best game face bolted on when you’ve already been hurt by something this strange. It didn’t help that our intel didn’t match the situation on the ground. Or that we had no way to get fresh orders. Normally I don’t mind operating without a leash, but this was beyond me.
    It was beyond anything I could have imagined. The plots of nine hundred science fiction movies began rumbling through my head. Bunch of guys trapped in a remote place with inexplicable weirdness. Some unseen force picking everyone off one at a time. Those things never end well.
    Top pointed into the opening of the machine. There was a tunnel that ran backward into shadows. “Looks like this thing curves down. There’s something just over the edge but I can’t get a shot. Think it’s safe to stand up on the edge to get a better—?”
    Before he could finish, the machine suddenly pulsed . No other word for it. There was a sound like the electrical kick of a starter. A growl that was cut off almost at once. And for a split second the first dozen rings of the tunnel flashed as LED lights hidden in the recesses throbbed once.
    Then … again.
    A third time. Each time there was that chunk sound, as of a giant engine trying to start and failing.
    If that’s what it was.
    â€œDamn it, Farm Boy,” bellowed Top, “what did you touch?”
    But Bunny was standing on the far side, twenty feet back from the mouth of the tunnel, camera raised to take a wide-angle picture. “I didn’t touch anything.”
    The lights and sound pulsed once more and then paused. That’s how it felt. A pause. The activity did not feel as if it actually stopped. There was a feeling of awful anticipation as the whole cavern suddenly fell silent. Bunny hurried over and we stood there, staring down into the tunnel of darkness.
    â€œWhat the hell—?” began Bunny, and then his words were