Caught in the middle, Diane Wohl took multiple MP5 rounds to the torso, nearly cutting her in half. As she fell, the woman looked back toward Quarry, her mouth half open, her eyes wide and wild. And accusing. She sank to the hard floor awash in her own blood. This mine would be her tomb.
“Sons of bitches!” roared Daryl, who’d dropped his empty clip and shoved in a fresh one, scattering shots all over; bullets ricocheted off walls, the ceilings, and the rock floor. It was like they were trapped in a lethal pinball machine.
Quarry jumped forward. “Daryl, stop! Stop! Gabriel…”
If Daryl heard him he wasn’t listening to his daddy anymore. This was apparently what he had meant by “his way.”
He dropped the overheated MP5 and pulled out twin nickel-plated semiautomatic pistols and walked forward, sending walls of fire ahead of him. When they were empty he slapped fresh mags in and blasted away. When the triggers clicked empty he pulled a shotgun from a long leather holster strapped to his back, racked the weapon, and opened fire anew. The big-bore weapon blew large chunks of rock off the walls and sent lethal shards spinning off.
A few moments later Michelle leapt up as Daryl was reloading the ten-gauge and nailed him with a round at chest height.
“Shit!” she exclaimed as he merely staggered b
ack after his armor absorbed most of the impact. “When am I gonna learn to aim for the damn head.”
Sean opened fire too, trying to keep Daryl pinned down. But the man seemed unafraid of dying. He reloaded and fired off blast after blast from the ten-gauge, laughing and cursing as he did so. At one point he screamed out, “Is this what needs doing, Daddy? Huh? Your boy’s right here for you, Daddy.”
Realizing that they simply couldn’t match the firepower arrayed against them, Michelle screamed, “Gabriel, Willa, run!” She pointed behind her. “That way!”
Gabriel grabbed Willa’s hand “Come on!”
They ran off.
“Shit!” Sean grunted in pain a few seconds later.
Michelle looked up from where she was reloading, and saw him hunched over holding his arm where one of the rock tailings had ripped across it.
“I’m okay,” he said, grimacing.
They couldn’t see him in the darkness but Daryl was now holding something far more terrifying than even an MP5 at close quarters. He had a small box with a toggle switch.
“Hey, you Feds, let’s all go see Jesus,” cackled Daryl.
“Don’t!” Quarry collided with his son right as he flipped the switch. Daryl went down hard. Quarry’s momentum carried him past his son and he rolled into and then over a pile of fallen rock.
There was a moment of silence and then the first charge went off. The force of the nearby explosion roared down the constricted tunnel like a runaway train, pushing suffocating smoke and jet-propelled debris ahead of it.
Daryl stood just in time to take the full brunt of it. A large flying rock severed his head completely from his shoulders. Quarry was mostly shielded from the blast by the pile of stone he’d landed behind. He rose moments later on shaking legs hacking up mine dirt.
Quarry barely glanced at what was left of his son and then hurried down the shaft. He found Sean and Michelle where they’d been blown down the tunnel and helped them up. “Run!” he exclaimed. “Next one’s gonna go only about ten feet from here.”
They ran as hard as they could. When the next blast detonated, the ceiling of the mine collapsed right behind them. The concussive force knocked them all off their feet again. Michelle tried to get up, but she screamed out in pain and grabbed her ankle. Quarry bent down and with his great strength picked the tall woman off the floor and slung her over his shoulder all in one motion. An instant later a huge chunk of rock struck right where she’d been lying.
“Move, move,” he yelled at Sean, who was just ahead, holding his wounded arm. “The next one’s gonna go.”
As the three clambered over the pile of rubble, in the smoke and confusion they didn’t see Gabriel and Willa huddled far down a side shaft, where they had retreated after the ceiling here had almost caved in on them.
Moments later a third charge went off, and the mountain did another heave. More parts of the rock ceiling gave way and thundered down.
Finally, they reached the entrance and were through it. Quarry set Michelle down and stayed bent over, heaving like a spent marathoner.
Michelle held her ankle and stared up at him. He was covered with dirt and coal dust, and with his wild white hair and sun-ravaged face he looked like a survivor of some sort of holocaust. And in way he was. They all were.
“You saved my life,” she managed to gasp.
He eyed Sean and saw the blood pouring down his arm. He ripped off one of his shirtsleeves and fashioned a rough tourniquet above the wound. As he drew back, Sean saw the lines burned into the man’s arm. He looked questioningly at Michelle. She’d seen it too.
Sean suddenly became as rigid as a statue. “Where’re the kids?”