The Sacred Vault_ A Novel - Andy McDermott [183]
Nina grabbed one of her earrings and pulled. Hard.
The piece of jewellery tore away from Vanita’s ear - with a chunk of lobe the size of a thumbnail still hooked on it.
Vanita screamed as blood gushed down her neck. Nina seized her by her sari and yanked with all her strength, slamming Vanita face-first through the gap between the screens - and into the triangular panel behind it.
The fibreglass broke apart with a splintering crack. A freezing wind blasted through the hole, frost and condensation instantly forming on the inside of the dome and the nearby screens. Vanita pulled back - and screamed even louder as the panel’s razor-sharp edges ripped into her cheeks like bear claws. The railing clunked to the floor.
‘Vanita!’ Khoil cried. But he didn’t move to help her, his mission the higher priority. He adjusted the drone’s course slightly. The countdown reached 02:50.
Nina snatched up the railing and was about to clout Vanita with it when she realised there was someone who needed it more. ‘Eddie! Catch!’
She hurled it across the dome like a javelin.
Eddie fended off another blow, looked up, saw the railing arcing towards him - and caught it. He spun and swung it at Tandon’s head. Suddenly on the defensive, Tandon jumped back, protectively whipping up an arm. The railing cracked painfully against his wrist.
Eddie swung his new weapon again, the reversal of fortune filling him with a surge of energy. ‘That’s more fucking like it!’ He forced Tandon towards the wall. The Indian tried to dart away, but Eddie hit his shoulder, knocking him back into the support frame. It shook, rattling the video screens. ‘Oi! I’m not finished with you!’
‘Yes!’ Nina cried triumphantly as her husband turned the tables - only for Vanita to throw herself at her with a shriek, overcome with rage as blood ran down her ruined face. She slammed the American back against the video wall, driving a knee up into her stomach. Nina groaned, winded - and Vanita clamped her hands round her throat. The fingers tightened, taloned thumbs digging deep into her neck.
Eddie attacked again, the metal pole thudding against the Indian’s ribs. He grinned nastily as his opponent’s face twisted in pain. A couple more blows would knock Tandon down, and then he could deal with Khoil. He pulled back the railing for another swing—
Tandon leapt - and grabbed a horizontal cross-member above. He pulled himself sharply upwards, swinging his legs up like a trapeze artist as the pole whipped past an inch beneath him. He hooked one foot round a strut, using the support to haul himself round, spider-like, and climb higher.
Eddie swung again, but Tandon was just out of reach. The railing smashed a video screen, which fell to the floor with a bang. Tandon glared down at him as he clambered across the framework. Its aluminium joints squeaked and juddered under his weight.
The projector rig at the top of the dome also shook, causing the images on the big screens to wobble. Khoil glanced round to find the cause of the disruption. 02:25 remaining on the countdown.
The framework had been designed to support the screens and the overhead rig, Eddie realised - nothing more. The extra weight of a grown man was straining it to its limit . . .
He swung his makeshift bat - not at Tandon, but at the exposed metal structure where the screen had fallen away. A vertical strut broke at the joint with a sharp snap of metal. A whole section of the framework jolted violently, screens flickering. The projector rig lurched. Khoil looked round again, this time in alarm as Eddie kept bashing at the weakened frame. Another screen broke from its mount, swinging on its power cord before shattering on the floor. ‘Chapal! Stop him!’
Tandon dived at the Englishman from above, deadly hands outstretched like claws—
Eddie whipped up the pole.
Fear flashed in Tandon’s eyes - but too late.
The broken end of the railing punched through his chest, spearing out