Tunnels 04, Closer

slid out a small box, then extended the aerial from it. He lifted up a cover on the front of the box to reveal its fascia, and pressed one of the buttons. A green LED came on. "Armed. Why don't you do the honors?" he said, handing it to Eddie. "Predictably, it's the big red button."
    Eddie held it before him, then hit the button.
    With muffled explosions there were bursts of light all around the perimeter of the cavern. Plumes of vapor rose from each of the thirty ruptured canisters, lit momentarily by the fiery glow of the charges, and then just as quickly fading away again.
    Drake shrugged as he turned to Eddie. "That wasn't very impressive -- don't get much bang for your buck, do you?"
    "As long as it does the trick," Eddie remarked. "Now we need to evac. If there's anyone here from the Division, they'll want to know who was responsible for that."
    "You bet they will," Drake replied, and they began to move quickly through an archway in the city wall and out into the flats, on a course that would take them to where the rope hung.
    As they came to the graveyard of boxlike tombs, a shot rang out.
    "Contact!" Drake yelled.
    Passing straight between them, the bullet slammed into the side of one of the tombs, the mica side panel crazing with fissures. Almost instantly, it shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, revealing something dark and rotted inside.
    Drake and Eddie threw themselves in opposite directions, rolling behind the tombs for cover. "Where was it from?" Drake asked urgently over the radio. He heard Eddie's voice -- it was completely emotionless.
    "As you face the city, a four-man patrol at two o'clock. I--"
    Eddie's voice suddenly cut out, and Drake couldn't see him anywhere as he used the light-gathering sight on his rifle. He took a moment to wipe the eyepiece of his mask. He wasn't up against amateurs here, and he needed to draw on all his senses. The trouble was that the hood of his Noddy suit was restricting his hearing -- he took the risk of yanking it down. The gas mask would still be protecting him from any airborne pathogens.
    He listened and watched. Seconds turned to hours as he strained to make out the tiniest thing, but there was only the wind and the steady dripping of water around him.
    Then he caught a noise.
    It was barely audible, the sound of a breath being taken. Drake spun around just in time to see a huge stalker bearing down on him, its slitted eyes reflecting the eerie green light.
    Almost losing his footing on the slimy weed as he stepped back, Drake fired from the hip. The tranquilizer dart caught the dog in the flanks, where it lodged. The massive animal came to a sliding sideways halt as its paws ploughed through the weed. But it didn't seem to be the tranquilizer that had stopped it, but more the surprise at being tagged by the dart. Drake realized he wasn't out of trouble as he watched the stalker snort and shake its huge head like a bull in a ring. Twisting its heavy body around, it pounded toward him again as it resumed the attack.
    Then, with a growl, the several hundred pounds of hell-hound were airborne as it sprang at Drake. But he was ready -- he fired, catching it in the eye. The tranquilizer seemed to have more effect this time, the stalker's body instantly going limp. But the dog's momentum was such that it slammed against Drake. Like a bowled tenpin, he whacked hard against the waterlogged ground, the air knocked from his lungs.
    Although he wasn't hurt, he stayed on the ground, seeking refuge under the nearest weed-covered tomb. "One stalker down," he puffed into the radio once he'd got his breath back.
    Despite the suppressor fitted to its muzzle, the rifle still made a sound similar to a punctured football when it was discharged, and Drake was concerned that it might have been enough for the Styx soldiers to get a fix on him. He needed to move to a new position, and fast. He peered out from the other side of the tomb. As the coast seemed clear, he crept into the open. He realized how lucky he and Eddie had been -- at least the Division patrol hadn't had time to mount a full ambush -- at least the situation was still fluid.
    As Drake scanned the immediate area through his night sight, he caught a fleeting movement no more than fifteen meters away -- as if a shadow had flitted past. He gave the locator on his wrist a quick check. He didn't want to nail Eddie by accident. Seeing that he wasn't anywhere close, Drake whispered into his throat mike.
    "Think I've got a