The Behemoth screamed east.
The iron wheels chewed the rails at ninety miles an hour, fleeing the toxic smog of Chicago. The vibration inside the train was bone-rattling. Every rivet groaned; every plate chattered.
Jason sat in the dining car, clutching the edge of the table.
"Clear!" O'Malley yelled from the rear turret. "No pursuit vehicles visible!"
They had escaped Hitler's trap. They had the centrifuge. They had the isotope.
Jason looked at Sarah.
She was sitting opposite him, staring at the lead-lined crate on the floor. She looked peaceful.
Then, she dropped her coffee cup.
It shattered.
Sarah's eyes rolled back. Her body went rigid. She began to convulse, sliding off the bench onto the vibrating floor.
"Sarah!" Jason dove for her. He grabbed her shoulders, trying to cushion her head.
"Medic!" O'Malley roared into the intercom. "Dining car! Now!"
Oppenheimer sprinted in from the engine room, carrying his medical kit. He slid on his knees next to them.
He pried Sarah's eyelid open.
"Pupils are blown," Oppenheimer said, his voice tight. "The virus is attacking the brain stem. Swelling. Encephalitis."
"We need the injection," Jason said, reaching for the crate.
"No!" Oppenheimer grabbed his wrist. "We can't just inject the raw isotope! It needs to be separated! We have to run the centrifuge!"
"So run it!" Jason yelled.
"Here?" Oppenheimer gestured at the shaking car. The train hit a bump, throwing them all sideways. "This isn't a lab! This is an earthquake! The centrifuge spins at 50,000 RPM. If it vibrates off-axis by a millimeter, the rotor shatters! It becomes a grenade!"
"And if we slow down?" Jason asked.
"The virus kills her in ten minutes," Oppenheimer checked her pulse. "Maybe five. We have to do it now, at full speed."
Jason looked at the heavy crate. It was bouncing on the floor with every rattle of the tracks.
"We need a stabilizer," Jason realized. "We need to isolate the machine from the train."
He turned to the door.
"Einstein!" Jason screamed.
The physicist stumbled in from the map room, holding his slide rule. He took one look at the seizing woman and the vibrating crate.
"Physics problem," Jason said. "I need a stable platform in an unstable environment. Zero vibration. Now."
Einstein's eyes narrowed. He looked around the car. He looked at the bunk beds bolted to the walls.
"Springs," Einstein said. "Dampening coefficients."
He pointed at O'Malley.
"Rip the mattresses!" Einstein ordered. "Strip the bedsprings! We build a cradle!"
O'Malley didn't ask questions. He drew his knife and slashed the nearest bunk. He ripped the metal coil springs from the frame.
"Jason, the ceiling hooks!" Einstein pointed to the meat hooks hanging from the roof (remnants of the car's former life as a cattle transport).
They worked frantically.
They lashed the heavy lead crate with bungee cords and steel springs, suspending it from the ceiling in the center of the car.
"Tension!" Einstein commanded, plucking a spring like a guitar string. "Tighter on the left! Balance the load!"
Within two minutes, the crate was floating in the air, held by a spiderweb of springs.
The train hit a violent switch track. The car lurched hard to the right.
The crate didn't move.
The springs stretched and compressed, absorbing the shock. The centrifuge hung perfectly still in the center of the chaos.
"Gyroscopic stabilization," Einstein panted. "Relative motion."
"Load it," Jason told Oppenheimer.
Oppenheimer opened the crate. The stainless steel centrifuge sat inside. He pulled a vial of bone marrow sludge from his pocket—the last of the raw material from Alcatraz.
"I need steady hands," Oppenheimer whispered. He held a pipette. "I have to inject the sample into the rotor port. The hole is two millimeters wide."
The train roared over a bridge. The floor jumped.
Oppenheimer's hand shook.
"I can't do it," he said, sweat dripping from his nose. "I'll miss. I'll spill the isotope."
Jason moved behind him. He wrapped his arms around Oppenheimer's waist, locking his elbows against his ribs. He pressed his chest against the scientist's back.
"I've got you," Jason said. "Lean into me. Become part of the floor."
Oppenheimer took a breath. He lowered the pipette.
The train screamed. The springs creaked.
Drop.
The fluid entered the port.
"Seal it!" Jason said.
Oppenheimer clamped the lid. He hit the power switch.
WHIRRRRR.
The centrifuge spun up. A high-pitched whine filled the car.
"Separation in three minutes!" Oppenheimer yelled over the noise.
"Contact!" Hughes screamed from the engine room. "Bogeys! Parallel track! Three o'clock!"
Jason looked out the window.
They weren't alone in the wasteland.
Racing alongside the train on a parallel service road was a fleet of cars.
But not normal cars. These were Ford Model T-Xs. Stripped down, armored in chrome, with oversized off-road tires.
Mounted on the roofs were heavy machine guns.
"Interceptors!" O'Malley grabbed his shotgun. "Ford's private army!"
"There's no drivers!" Hemingway yelled from the rear turret. "Look at the cabs! They're empty!"
Jason squinted. The cars were driverless. Cables ran from the steering columns to bulky radio boxes in the passenger seats.
"Drones," Jason realized. "Alta bought the Gates-Tech. She automated the pursuit."
A grappling hook fired from the lead car. It smashed through the dining car window, hooking onto the table.
"They're boarding!" O'Malley fired at the cable, severing it.
More hooks hit. Thump. Thump. Thump.
The cars swerved closer, trying to drag the train off the rails. Machine gun fire raked the side of the Behemoth.
Ping-ping-ping.
"We're taking hits!" Hughes yelled. "Armor integrity dropping!"
"Tesla!" Jason shouted into the intercom. "Can you fry them?"
"Negative!" Tesla's voice crackled. "They are rubber-insulated! The coils won't arc!"
"They're radio controlled!" Jason yelled. "Jam the signal!"
"I need line of sight!" Tesla shouted. "The antenna is on the roof! I have to manually tune the frequency!"
"Go!"
"I am an old man, Jason!"
"Go or we die!"
Jason saw Tesla climb past the window, crawling onto the icy roof of the moving train.
Bullets sparked around him.
Inside the car, the centrifuge whined higher. SCREEEEE.
"One minute to separation!" Oppenheimer watched the timer. "Don't let it bump!"
A drone car slammed into the side of the train. The impact threw Jason against the wall.
The floating crate swung wildly.
"Stabilize it!" Einstein grabbed the springs, burning his hands on the friction.
On the roof, Tesla crawled to the antenna array. He pulled a screwdriver from his pocket. He jammed it into the tuner box.
He watched the drone cars. They were moving in perfect synchronization. A hive mind.
"Frequency 108.5," Tesla muttered.
He turned the dial on the jammer.
He unleashed a wave of static white noise.
The effect was instantaneous.
The lead drone car swerved hard left. It slammed into the car next to it.
CRASH.
The two cars tangled, flipping end-over-end in a ball of fire.
The third car lost signal lock. It drove straight off the road, plunging into a ravine.
"It's working!" O'Malley cheered. "They're blind!"
Tesla clung to the antenna as the train roared through the smoke of the burning drones.
Inside, the centrifuge dinged.
"Done!" Oppenheimer popped the lid.
He pulled out a single vial of glowing blue liquid.
Pure Phosphorus-32.
"Sarah," Jason pulled her up. Her skin was gray. Her breathing had stopped.
"Neck," Oppenheimer said, finding the vein.
He jabbed the needle in. He pushed the plunger.
The blue fire entered her blood.
Jason held her. He waited.
One second. Two.
She gasped.
A deep, desperate intake of air.
Her eyes flew open. The pupils contracted. The color rushed back into her cheeks.
She coughed, gripping Jason's shirt.
"We're... moving," she rasped.
"We're flying," Jason kissed her forehead. He looked out the window.
The burning wrecks of the Ford drones were fading behind them.
Ahead, the sky was purple with twilight.
And rising from the smog, a silhouette.
Not a city. A fortress.
Detroit.
"We made it," Jason whispered.
Sarah sat up. She looked at the horizon.
"No," she said. "We just arrived at the gate."