“We need to get off the street!” I shout.
“This way!” Daniela yells, hooking a sharp left that momentarily takes us out of the deluge of building debris that funnels down the avenue.
When Daniela turns, something slips loose from under the broken zipper on her duffel bag. For a split second, my eyes track a hundred-dollar bill as it floats through the air and is quickly swallowed by the billowing cloud of debris. Weird what you notice when you’re running for your life.
Wait. What exactly was she doing in that bank when the Mogs pinned her down?
There’s no time to ask. Another explosion rocks the area, this one deafeningly close and strong enough that it knocks Sam off his feet. I drag him back up and we scramble onwards, both of us covered in the clinging, choking dust of the destroyed buildings. Even though Daniela is just a few yards ahead, she’s only visible as a silhouette.
“In here!” she yells back to us.
I try to shine my Lumen ahead but it doesn’t do much good in the swirling building fragments. I have no idea where Daniela’s leading us, not until the ground disappears from beneath my feet and I fall headfirst into a hole in the ground.
“Oof!” Sam yelps as he hits the concrete floor next to me. Daniela is on her feet a few yards away. My hands and knees are scraped from the landing, but otherwise I’m unhurt. I glance over my shoulder, seeing a darkened staircase that’s rapidly filling in with debris from above.
We’re in a subway station.
“A little warning would’ve been good,” I snap at Daniela.
“You said off the street,” she replies. “This is off the street.”
“You okay?” I ask Sam, helping him up. He nods, catching his breath.
The subway station begins to vibrate. The metal turnstiles rattle and more dust filters down from the ceiling. Even through the barrier of concrete, I hear the mighty growl of the warship’s engines. The Anubis must be right above us. Electric-blue light pours into the station from outside.
“Go!” I yell, shoving Sam, Daniela already hopping a turnstile. “Into the tunnels!”
The cannon unloads with a high-pitched shriek. Even shielded by layers of concrete, I tingle from the electricity, my body fizzing down to its bones. The subway station shakes and, above us, a building lets out a mournful groan as its steel girding twists and collapses. I turn and run, jumping onto the tracks after Sam and Daniela. I look over my shoulder as the ceiling starts to cave in, first sealing off the stairs we just fell down, then spreading farther into the station. It isn’t going to hold.
“Run!” I yell again, straining to be heard over the crumbling architecture.
Into the darkness of the subway tunnel we sprint. I fire up my Lumen so that we can see, my light glinting off the steel tracks on either side of us. I sense movement at my side and it takes a moment to realize that there’s a herd of rats running alongside us, also fleeing the collapse. Somewhere down here, a pipe must have burst, because I’m running through ankle-deep water.
With my enhanced hearing, I listen to the stonework that surrounds us grinding and tearing. Whatever the Anubis destroyed on the street level, it caused major damage to the foundation of the city. I glance at the ceiling just in time to see a jagged crack spread through the cement, breaking off into tributaries that spread down the mold-covered walls. It’s like we’re trying to outrun the structural damage.
We can’t win this race. The tunnel’s going to collapse.
I’m about to yell out a warning when the tunnel gives way above Daniela. She only has time to look up and scream as a dislodged chunk of cement plummets towards her.
I put everything into my telekinesis and shove upwards.
It holds. I manage to stave off the cave-in centimeters from Daniela’s head. I exert so much counterforce to support the massive weight overhead that I’m pushed down to my knees. I feel the veins in my neck protruding, fresh sweat dampening my back. It’s like carrying a tremendous weight when you’re already exhausted. And meanwhile, new cracks are spiderwebbing out from the broken piece of ceiling. It’s physics—the weight has to go somewhere. And that somewhere is going to be right on top of us.
I can’t hold this. Not for long.
I taste blood in my mouth and realize I’m biting my lip. I can’t even yell to the others for help. If I shift even a tiny bit of focus away from my telekinesis, the weight will become too much.
Luckily, Sam realizes what’s happening.
“We have to hold up the ceiling!” he shouts at Daniela. “We have to help him!”
Sam stands next to me and throws his hands up. I feel his telekinetic strength join mine and it alleviates some of the pressure. I’m able to get up from my knees.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Daniela hesitate. The truth is, if she ran now, with Sam and me supporting the tunnel, she could probably make it to safety. We’d be screwed, but she’d make it.
Daniela doesn’t run. She stands on the other side of me and pushes up. The cement in the ceiling groans and more cracks erupt in the tunnel walls. It’s a delicate balance—our telekinesis just forces the weight from the broken stonework to shift elsewhere. No matter what we do, eventually, this tunnel is going to collapse.
Enough of the weight’s been taken off that I can speak again. I ignore the burning agony in my muscles, the heaviness sinking into my shoulders. Sam and Daniela are holding, waiting for my instructions.
“Walk . . . walk backwards,” I manage to grunt. “Let it go . . . slowly.”