The train car lay across the tunnel like a dead whale.
It was a sleek, silver Hyperloop pod, crumpled and twisted. It blocked the service road completely. There was no way around.
Behind the convoy, the darkness chittered.
Thousands of legs scuttled on concrete. The Tunnel Weavers were coming.
"We need a gap!" Marcus yelled.
Narcissus walked up to the train. He placed his massive hands against the dented hull.
"It is wedged," Narcissus grunted. "Fifty tons. Maybe sixty."
"Push it!" Marcus ordered.
Narcissus dug his boots into the dusty floor. His servos whined—a high-pitched scream of stressed metal.
He pushed.
The train groaned. Sparks flew where it scraped the wall.
It moved an inch.
"Not enough!" Marcia shouted from the Rover. "They're here!"
The first wave of spiders hit the rear guard.
Truck 10 opened fire. Muzzle flashes lit up the tunnel.
"We need more force!" Marcus yelled.
He ran to the Rover.
"Marcia! Bumper to bumper! Push him!"
Marcia didn't argue. She drove the luxury Rover forward until its reinforced bull-bar touched Narcissus's legs.
"Gentle," Marcus warned.
"I don't do gentle," Marcia growled.
She floored it.
The electric motors delivered instant torque. The Rover's tires smoked, spinning for grip on the slick concrete.
Narcissus roared. He used the car as a brace.
"HEAVE!"
The combined force—cyborg muscle and electric horsepower—broke the friction.
SCREEEECH.
The train car slid. Metal tore against concrete.
It swung sideways, creating a gap. Just wide enough for a truck.
"Through! Go! Go!" Marcus waved the convoy forward.
The trucks gunned their engines. They squeezed through the gap, scraping paint, mirrors snapping off.
One. Two. Five.
"Rear guard is failing!" Decimus yelled over the radio. "We are overrun!"
Truck 10—the last one—was swarmed. Spiders covered it like a blanket. The gunners were fighting hand-to-hand with knives.
"Decimus! Abandon the truck!" Marcus ordered. "Get to Truck 9!"
The refugees leaped from the doomed vehicle. They scrambled into the back of the next truck just as it squeezed through the gap.
Only the Rover was left on the wrong side.
"Narcissus! Get in!" Marcus yelled.
The giant let go of the train. He jumped onto the back of the Rover.
Marcia reversed, lining up the gap.
But something dropped from the ceiling.
It wasn't a normal Weaver. It was the Queen.
She was massive. The size of a tank. Her abdomen was swollen with glowing blue eggs. Her legs were thick as tree trunks.
She landed on the roof of the Rover.
CRUNCH.
The roof buckled. The glass sunroof shattered.
Marcia screamed as a hairy leg stabbed through the passenger seat, missing Marcus by an inch.
The Queen hissed. She shot a web.
It wrapped around the Rover's rear axle. She anchored herself to the ground.
Marcia gunned the engine. The wheels spun, but the car didn't move. The Queen was holding them in place.
"She's too heavy!" Marcia yelled.
The Queen raised her mandibles. She was going to crush the cabin.
"JARVIS!" Marcus screamed. "Countermeasure!"
[SYSTEM: DEFENSE MODE.]
[OPTION: ELECTRO-SHOCK.]
[WARNING: WILL DRAIN BATTERY TO 10%.]
"DO IT!"
[DISCHARGING CAPACITORS.]
Arcing blue electricity exploded from the Rover's chassis.
ZZAAAAAP.
The voltage surged through the metal frame. It surged through the Queen's legs.
The spider shrieked. Her nervous system fried instantly. Her legs curled up. Smoke poured from her eyes.
She collapsed, dead weight on the roof.
"Drive!" Marcus yelled.
Marcia slammed the throttle.
The Rover shot forward. It dragged the dead Queen for ten feet before the web snapped.
The carcass tumbled off the back.
The Rover skidded through the gap in the train cars.
"Close it!" Marcus yelled to Narcissus.
Narcissus kicked the train car.
It slid back a few inches. Not closed, but enough to bottleneck the swarm.
They sped away.
The chittering faded behind them.
"Is everyone okay?" Marcus asked, checking his limbs.
"My car," Marcia whispered. "Look at my car."
The roof was crushed. The windshield was cracked. Green slime coated the hood.
"It adds character," Marcus said.
Ahead, a gray light appeared.
"Daylight," Lucilla said.
They raced toward it.
The tunnel widened. The air grew colder.
They burst out of the exit.
Marcus blinked.
He expected sun. He expected ruins.
He didn't expect white.
Snow.
It was falling heavily. Thick, gray flakes that blanketed the world.
The ruins of Thrace lay before them, buried under three feet of powder.
The temperature gauge on the dashboard plummeted.
[EXTERNAL TEMP: -10°C.]
[STATUS: NUCLEAR WINTER.]
"Snow?" Galen asked, shivering as he climbed out of the truck. "It's July."
"The ash from the Rome bombings," Lucilla said, stepping into the slush. "It blocked the sun over Europe. It's been winter here for ten years."
The convoy stopped. Steam rose from the overheated engines.
The refugees climbed out. They stared at the white ground. Most of them were from the desert. They had never seen snow.
A child reached out and touched a flake. He recoiled when it melted cold on his finger.
"We aren't dressed for this," Decimus said, rubbing his arms. The legionaries wore tunics and scavenged armor. No coats.
"We need shelter," Marcus said. "And heat."
[ALERT: INCOMING TRANSMISSION.]
[SOURCE: WIDEBAND RADIO.]
[SIGNAL STRENGTH: MAXIMUM.]
The radio in the Rover crackled to life.
It wasn't static. It was a voice. Deep. Authoritative. Cultured.
"This is General Titus," the voice boomed. "Commander of the Northern Front. Calling the insurgent convoy."
Marcus walked to the Rover. He picked up the mic.
"I'm listening," Marcus said.
"Turn back," Titus said. "You have crossed the strait. You are now in Board territory. The European Exclusion Zone."
"We know where we are," Marcus said.
"Do you?" Titus laughed softly. "Look at your people, Caesar. They are shivering. They are hungry. And before you lies a thousand miles of ice and Stalkers."
"We survived the desert," Marcus said. "We'll survive the snow."
"The desert is honest," Titus said. "The cold is treacherous. Turn back to Asia. Live out your days in the sand. If you advance... you freeze. Or I bury you."
The transmission cut.
Static.
Marcus looked at the radio.
"He knows we're here," Marcia said. "He's watching."
"Let him watch," Marcus said.
He turned to the shivering refugees.
"Strip the canvas from the trucks!" Marcus ordered. "Make cloaks! Wrap your feet in cloth! We do not stop!"
He looked at Narcissus.
"Can you feel the cold, brother?"
Narcissus held out a metal hand. A snowflake landed on it and didn't melt.
"No," Narcissus said. "But they do." He pointed to the children huddled together.
Marcus nodded.
"We need winter gear," he said. "And we need it now."
He looked at the map.
[NEAREST SETTLEMENT: PLOVDIV - 50 MILES.]
[STATUS: BOARD OUTPOST.]
[RESOURCE: WINTER SUPPLY DEPOT.]
"We aren't turning back," Marcus said to the wind.
He climbed onto the hood of the battered Rover.
"General Titus wants to bury us in the ice," Marcus shouted to his army.
"Let him wait."
He drew his sword. The blade ignited, a beacon of heat in the gray world.
"We'll bring the heat to him."
"MOUNT UP!"
The engines roared.
The convoy rolled out into the white wasteland.
The Road to Rome had just frozen over.