The Last Bastion of the Living (The Last Bastion #1)(21)

Taking a deep breath, filled with dust, humidity and the stink of the city, she forced her doubts away. She was a soldier of The Bastion Constabulary. She wouldn’t doubt. She wouldn’t fear.

“No going back now,” she murmured, and rounded the corner heading to her destination.

The side streets were narrower, congested with people, and stifling. Someone poured their dishwater out of a high window and drenched some of the passersby. Shouts of anger rose as Maria hurried around the corner, grateful the dirty water had missed her.

Ducking down the stairs into the now defunct subway station, she shifted the bags on her shoulder. She had a few minutes before the only running subway train would pick her up. It was used exclusively by the military and would be stopping just for her. All the stations were now restricted areas. Squatters had been removed and the trains shut down as a security precaution after the Scourge had infiltrated the sewers.

Swiping her wristlet over the locks on the heavily barred doors, she heard an ominous click as they unlocked and opened. She entered the gloom beyond the gaping doors, leaving behind the heat and sunlight. Lights flickered on as she walked across the cement floor to the platform. The doors clanked shut behind her.

It was cooler down here. She sneezed in the stale air and rubbed her nose. Her wristlet caught her eye and she ran her fingers lightly over the smooth silver surface. The screen activated, flashing that it was locked, ready for her commands. She tapped her finger lightly over the edges, her password unlocking the device. She had no additional orders. Nothing had changed. Maria felt both relief and trepidation.

Noises in the pitch black tunnel startled her. Instantly on alert, her body tensed as her heart began to pound. The sound of approaching footsteps reverberated through the station. Running? Her hand automatically slid to her side, but she had no sidearm.

Mentally chastising herself for panicking, she nonetheless let her bags slide to the floor. The last breach of the wall had been years before when her father had died fighting the Inferi Scourge in the sewer system. The footsteps were moving swiftly in her direction. It had to be a maintenance crew, but why would they be running?

Maria knew that her panic was born of her experience outside the walls. Ever since the defeat of the Constabulary military forces, she had been suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder just like all of the rest of the survivors. A few months of therapy and drug treatment had greatly reduced her anxiety attacks, but her body was absolutely singing with adrenaline as she listened to the sounds emanating from the darkness.

Backing away from the bags, she sought out a hiding place. The old station was devoid of any decoration and all the benches and vending machines were long gone. There was no place to conceal herself. She considered calling out, but decided against it. If there was a breach, the last thing she wanted to do was draw attention.

An alarm sounded, announcing the arrival of the train within a minute’s time. She shot a quick look over her shoulder toward the locked doors. Should she flee up into the market and risk the Scourge breaching the door, or hope the train arrived in time?

“Oh, shit,” she muttered.

It couldn’t be the Scourge. They couldn’t be in the system.

Backing toward the doors, she drew a deep breath.

“Out of the hole, soldiers!”

It was a woman’s voice.

A search and destroy squad, dressed all in black, bounded out of the tunnel. Their heavy masks made them look like insects as they moved in perfectly synchronized motions. With striking ease, they leaped onto the platform and fell into formation. Two members of the squad dragged what looked like a body bag up off the tracks and dropped it at their feet. The leader was the last up onto the platform. She acknowledged Maria’s existence with the curt nod of her helmeted head.

Maria stared at the group uneasily. They were heavily armed and carried extra clips of precious ammunition on their belts.

The sound of the train roaring toward the station lured Maria back to her bags. She yanked the straps over her shoulders as the leader of the squad scrutinized her. They were of equal rank, but the other woman was from the SWD, not the Constabulary. There was little love lost between the two divisions.

Hot air blasted out of the tunnel as the sleek train skimmed to a stop. The train consisted of only two cars plus the electric locomotive. The doors of the second car slid open and a short male with dark curly hair stepped out.

“Vanguard Martinez,” he called out.

Still under the watchful eye of the squad leader, Maria stepped forward. Lifting her wrist, she swept it over the pad the conductor extended. Reading the results displayed on its surface, the man gave her a short nod of his head.

Once onboard, Maria took a seat, still watching the squad as it stood silently waiting for the train to depart.

The conductor glanced at the search and destroy squad, but said nothing as he took his seat. He was from the SWD, but his black uniform didn’t have any signifiers of rank or even a name tag. The train sounded an alarm then pitched forward, the station platform swiftly disappearing from Maria’s view.

The dim lights of the car did nothing to enhance the dull gunmetal color of the floor and walls. The seats were thinly padded and had long ago stopped being comfortable. The monitors that had probably been used at one time to entertain the passengers were silent and dark on the wall. Maria adjusted her bags, straightened her uniform and peered out the window. It was completely black outside the glass. Not even emergency lights illuminated the tunnel. Only the bright blue lights on the train’s exterior glowed weakly into the darkness.