Текст книги "The Kill Order"
Автор книги: James Dashner
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Out of the corner of his eye, Mark noticed Darnell taking in a breath, his mouth opening, probably to say something smart and funny back at the Toad. But the action was cut off by a loud wrenching sound from above, followed by the groan and squeal of hydraulics. Mark watched in fascination as a large, square-shaped hatch on the bottom of the Berg began to open, pivoting on hinges to lower like a ramp. It was dark inside, and little wisps of mist came swirling out as the gap grew wider.
Gasps and shouts rippled throughout the crowd; hands raised and fingers pointed upward. Mark tore his gaze from the Berg for a moment to take everything in, struck by the sense of awe surrounding him. They’d become a desperate, desperate people, living each day with the weighty feeling that the next one could be their last. And here they all were, looking toward the sky as if the Toad’s joke had been more than that. There was a longing in many of the eyes he saw, like people truly thought they were being saved by some divine power. It made Mark feel a little sick.
A fresh wave of gasps spilled through the Square, and Mark snapped his head to look up again. Five people had emerged from the darkness of the Berg, dressed in outfits that sent a chill racing down Mark’s spinal cord. Green and rubbery and bulky-one-piece suits that covered the strangers from head to toe. The suits had clear visors in the headpiece through which the wearers could see, but the glare and distance made it impossible for Mark to make out their faces. They stepped carefully in big black boots pulled up over the green material until the five of them lined the outer edge of the lowered hatch door, their tense body language showing the effort it took to maintain balance.
Each of them held a black tube in their hands as if it were a gun.
But the tubes didn’t look like any guns Mark had ever seen. They were thin and long, with an attachment at the end that made them resemble plumbing parts someone had ripped out of an industrial pump. And once the strangers settled into their positions, they held up the tubelike things and aimed them directly at the people below.
Mark realized that Alec was screaming at the top of his lungs, pushing and shoving people to move them away. Everything around them was erupting in chaos-shouts and panic-yet Mark had fallen into a trance, watching the strangers with their odd outfits and their menacing weapons come out of the Berg as everyone else in the crowd finally woke up to the fact that these people weren’t there to save anyone. What had happened to the Mark who could act fast? Who had survived the year of hell after the flares ravaged the earth?
He was still frozen, watching, as the first shot was fired from above. A blur of movement, a quick flash of something dark and small and fast bursting from one of those tubes. Mark’s eyes followed the trajectory. He heard a sickening thunk, his head twisting to the side just in time to see that Darnell had a five-inch-long dart sticking out of his shoulder, its thin metal shaft planted deep within the muscle. Blood trickled down from the wound. The boy made a strange grunt as he collapsed to the ground.
That finally snapped Mark out of it.
CHAPTER 4
Screams tore through the air as panicked people fled in every direction. Mark bent down, grabbing Darnell by hooking his elbows under the boy’s arms. The sound of flying darts cutting through the air to his left and right, finding targets, urged him to hurry, erasing any other thoughts from his mind.
Mark pulled on Darnell, dragging his body along the ground. Trina had fallen but Lana was there, helping her up. Both of them ran over to help, each grabbing one of Darnell’s feet. With synchronized grunts they hefted him up and moved away from the Square, away from the open space. It was a miracle no one else in their little group had been struck by a dart.
Swish, swish, swish. Thunk, thunk, thunk. Screams and bodies falling.
The projectiles kept coming, landing all around them, and Mark and Trina and Lana shuffled as quickly as they could, awkwardly carrying Darnell between them. They passed behind a group of trees-Mark heard a few hard thunks as darts buried themselves in the branches and trunks-then they were in the open again. They hurried across a small clearing and into an alley between several haphazardly built log cabins. There were people everywhere, knocking frantically on doors, jumping through open windows.
Then Mark heard the roar of the thrusters and a warm wind blew across his face. The roar grew louder, the wind stronger. He looked up, following the noise, to see that the Berg had shifted position, pursuing the fleeing crowds. He saw the Toad and Misty. They were urging people to hurry, their shouts lost in the Berg’s blast.
Mark didn’t know what to do. Finding shelter was the best bet, but there were too many people trying to do the same thing and joining the chaos with Darnell in tow would only get them trampled. The Berg stopped again, and once more the strangers in their odd suits lifted their weapons and opened fire.
Swish, swish, swish. Thunk, thunk, thunk.
A dart grazed Mark’s shirt and hit the ground; someone stepped on it, driving it deeper. Another dart hit home in the neck of a man just as he was running past-he screamed and dove forward as blood spurted from the wound. When he landed, he lay still and three people tripped over him. Mark only realized that he’d stopped, appalled by what was happening around him, when Lana yelled at him to keep moving.
The shooters above them had obviously improved their aim. The darts were hitting people left and right and the air was filled with screams of pain and terror. Mark felt utterly helpless-there was no way to shield himself from the barrage. All he could do was lamely try to outrun a flying machine, an impossible task.
Where was Alec? The tough guy with all the battle instincts? Where had he run off to?
Mark kept moving, yanking Darnell’s body along, forcing Trina and Lana to match his speed. The Toad and Misty ran alongside them, trying to help without getting in the way. Darts continued to rain down from above, more screams, more falling bodies. Mark turned a corner and lurched down the alley that led back to the Shack, sticking close to the building on his right for a partial shield. Not as many people had come this way, and there were fewer darts to dodge.
The little group hobbled as fast as they could with their unconscious friend. The structures were built practically on top of each other in this section of the settlement, and there was no room to cut through and escape into the surrounding woods of the mountains.
“We’re almost to the Shack!” Trina yelled. “Hurry, before the Berg is back on top of us!”
Mark twisted his body around so that he was facing front, gripping Darnell by his shirt behind him. Shuffling backward had strained his leg muscles to the max, and they burned with heat and were beginning to cramp. There was nothing in their way now to slow them down, so Mark sped up, Lana and Trina keeping pace, each holding one of Darnell’s legs. The Toad and Misty squeezed in and each grabbed an arm, taking some of the load. They slipped through the narrow paths and alleys, over jutting roots and hard-packed dirt, turning left and then right and then left again. The roar of the Berg was coming from their right, muted by the dwellings and rows of trees in between.
Mark finally turned a corner and saw the Shack across a small clearing. He moved to make a final sprint for it, just as a horde of fleeing residents swarmed in from the other side, frantic and wild, scattering in all directions, heading for every door in sight. He froze as the Berg rushed in overhead, closer to the ground than Mark had seen it before. There were only three people standing on the hatch door of the craft now, but they opened fire as soon as the Berg settled into a hovering position.
Little silver streaks shot through the air, rained down on the people surging into the clearing. Every projectile seemed to find its mark, slamming into the necks and arms of men and women and children. They screamed and crumpled to the ground almost instantly, others tripping over their bodies in the mad rush for cover.
Mark and his little group hugged the side of the closest building and laid Darnell on the ground. Pain and weariness slogged through Mark’s arms and legs, making him want to collapse beside their unconscious friend.
“We should’ve just left him back there,” Trina said, hands on knees, struggling to catch her breath. “He slowed us down, and he’s still right in the thick of things anyway.”
“Dead, for all we know,” the Toad’s voice croaked.
Mark looked sharply at him-but the man was probably right. They might’ve jeopardized their own lives to save someone who had no chance in the first place.
“What’s happening now?” Lana asked as she moved up to the corner of the building to look around at the clearing. She glanced back at them over her shoulder. “They’re just picking people off, left and right. Why are they using darts instead of bullets?”
“Makes no sense,” Mark replied.
“Can’t we do something?” Trina said, her body trembling with what looked like frustration more than fear. “Why are we letting these people do this?”
Mark stepped up to Lana and peeked out with her. Bodies littered the clearing now, impaled darts sticking up toward the sky like a miniature forest. Still the Berg hovered overhead, its thrusters raging with blue heat.
“Where are our security guys?” Mark whispered to no one in particular. “They take the day off or something?”
No one answered, but movement over at the door of the Shack caught Mark’s attention and he sighed in relief. It was Alec, waving frantically, urging them to join him. The man held what looked like two huge rifles with grappling hooks on the ends attached to big coils of rope.
Ever the soldier-even after all these years-the man had a plan, and he needed help. He was going to fight back against these monsters. And so was Mark.
Mark pulled back from the wall and looked around. He saw a piece of wood on the other side of the alley. Without telling the others what he was doing, he ran over to grab it, then sprinted out into the clearing, heading straight for the Shack and for Alec, using the wood as a shield.
Mark didn’t need to look up-he could hear the distinct swoosh of darts being shot at him. Heard the solid thunk of one of them hitting the wood. He ran on.
CHAPTER 5
Mark varied his steps, speeding up and slowing down, dodging to the left and right, making his way toward Alec. Darts thunked into the ground around his feet; a second one hit his makeshift shield. As he ran through the open space, Alec-still clutching those rifles-made a beeline for the middle of the clearing. The two of them almost crashed into each other directly under the Berg, and Mark immediately leaned in to try to protect both of them with his shield.
Alec’s eyes burned with intensity and purpose. Gray hair or not, he suddenly looked twenty years younger.
“We’ve got to hurry!” he yelled. “Before that thing decides to take off!”
The thrusters burned overhead and the darts continued to slam into people all around them. The screams were awful.
“What do I do?” Mark shouted. The now familiar blend of adrenaline and terror surged through him as he awaited his friend’s instructions.
“You cover me, with this.”
Alec shifted his rifles under one arm and pulled a pistol-a dull black one that Mark had never seen before-out of the back of his pants. There was no time to hesitate. Mark took the gun with his free hand, and by the weight of the weapon he knew it was loaded. A dart slammed into the wood as he cocked the pistol. Then another one. The strangers on the Berg had taken notice of the two people scheming in the middle of the clearing. More darts thumped into the ground like a sudden hailstorm.
“Fire away, boy,” Alec growled. “And aim well, ’cause you’ve only got twelve bullets. Don’t miss. Now!”
With that, Alec spun and ran to a spot about ten feet away. Mark pointed the gun at the people on the hatch door of the Berg and fired off two quick shots, knowing he needed to get their attention immediately so they wouldn’t notice Alec. The three green suits backed up and dropped to their knees, hunching down to get the metal ramp between them and the shooter. One of them turned and clambered to get back into the ship.
Mark tossed the wood shield to the side. He clutched the gun with both hands, steadied himself and concentrated. A head peeked over the edge of the hatch above and Mark quickly set it in his sights, fired a shot. His hands jumped with the recoil, but he saw the red mist, a spray of blood in the air; a body tumbled off the ramp and crashed into a group of three people below. Fresh waves of screams erupted from all directions as people saw what was happening.
An arm stretched around the Berg door above, holding the tube-weapon out to take random shots. Mark fired, heard a sharp ping as the bullet hit the metal contraption, then watched the weapon fall to the ground. A woman scooped it up and started examining it, trying to figure out how to use it to fight back. That could only help.
Mark risked a quick glance back at Alec. He was holding up the grappling-hook weapon as if he were a seaman about to harpoon a whale. A pop sounded and suddenly the hook was flying toward the Berg, the rope spinning out behind it like a trail of smoke. The hook clanged against one of the hydraulic shafts keeping the hatch door open and twisted around it, catching hold. Alec pulled the rope taut.
“Throw me the gun!” the soldier yelled at him.
Mark looked up to make sure no one had reappeared from inside to shoot another volley of darts; then he sprinted to Alec, handed him the pistol. The man had barely taken it when Mark heard a click and Alec was shooting into the sky, his device pulling him up the rope, toward the hovering Berg. He held on to the grappling-hook weapon with one hand and pointed the pistol above him with the other. As soon as he cleared the edge of the hatch door, three shots rang out in quick succession. Mark watched as the man climbed onto the ramp, his feet the last things to disappear from sight. A few seconds later, another green-suited body was launched over the edge, slamming onto empty dirt.
“The other hook!” Alec screamed down at him. “Hurry, before more come out or they take off!” He didn’t wait for a reply before turning to face the main body of the Berg.
Mark’s heart raced, almost hurting as it thumped rapidly against his ribs. He looked around, spotted the other hulking device on the ground where Alec had dropped it. Mark picked it up, examined it, felt a rush of panic that he wouldn’t know how to use the stupid thing.
“Just aim it up here!” Alec shouted down. “If it doesn’t catch, I’ll tie it on myself. Hurry!”
Mark held it like a rifle and pointed it directly toward the middle of the hatch door. He pulled the trigger. The recoil was strong but he leaned into it this time, felt the bump of pain on his shoulder. The hook and trailing rope shot toward the Berg, up and over the edge of the open hatch. It clanged and slipped backward, but Alec grabbed it just in time. Mark watched as Alec hurried to one of the hydraulic shafts and wrapped the hook tightly around it.
“Okay!” Alec yelled. “Push the green retractor butt-”
He was cut off when the Berg’s engines roared to a higher pitch and the vehicle vaulted into the air. Mark gripped the end of the grappling device just as it pulled him off his feet, yanking him skyward. He heard Trina shout at him from below, but the ground fell away, the people growing smaller by the second. Fear suffused Mark as he held on, squeezing his fingers so tightly they turned bone-white. Looking down made his head spin and his stomach lurch, so he forced his gaze to the hatch door.
Alec was just scrambling back over the edge of the ramp door-he’d almost been sent sailing to his death. He kicked and pulled himself to safety, using the same rope to which Mark clung for dear life. Then he flopped onto his stomach and peered down at Mark with wide eyes.
“Find the green button, Mark!” he yelled. “Push it!”
The air was rushing around Mark’s body, the wind combined with the power of the thrusters. The Berg was ascending, now at least two hundred feet off the ground, and moving forward, heading for the trees. They’d clip Mark within seconds and either tear him to pieces or rip him from the rope. He held on as he frantically searched the device for the button.
There it was, a few inches down from the trigger that had shot out the hook and rope. He hated to let go, even for a second, but he focused all his strength into his right hand, clenching his fingers even tighter, then went for it with his left. His entire body flopped back and forth in the air, swaying against the wind and jolting at every bump of the Berg. The tops of the pines and oaks rushed in. He couldn’t get enough control to push the button.
Suddenly there was a clank and a clanging and the squeal of metal above him and he looked up. The hatch door was closing.
CHAPTER 6
“Hurry!” Alec screamed at him from above.
Mark was just about to try for the button again when they reached the trees. He slapped his left hand back on the weapon and gripped it as hard as he could. He curled into a ball and squeezed his eyes shut. The top branches of the tallest pine slammed into his body as the Berg swung him into it. Needles poked his skin and the spiky points of tree limbs snagged his clothes and scratched his face. They were like skeleton hands trying to claw him free, pull him to his death. Every inch of his body seemed scraped by something.
But he made it through, the Berg’s momentum and the rope jerking him from the tree’s clutches. He relaxed his legs, then kicked out wildly as the ship swung around, sending him flying in a huge arc. The hatch door was halfway closed and Alec leaned out and over, trying to pull the rope up, his face almost purple from yelling. His words were lost in the noise of it all.
Mark’s stomach was churning, but he knew he had only one more chance. He let go of the device with his left hand, felt along the side until he found the trigger again, fingered his way to where he knew the green button to be. His peripheral vision showed more trees coming his way, the Berg dipping lower now so that there’d be no chance of his making it through.
He found the button, pressed it, but his fingers slipped. Branches reached for him, and he tried again, pressing the device against his body for leverage, then pushing the button hard. It clicked in and he shot upward just as his body swung into the thick foliage of the trees. He barreled through them, vaulting toward the hatch above, branches smacking him in the face. There was a whirring sound as the rope retracted into the device, yanking him to Alec, who had a hand outstretched. The metal slab of the door was only two or three feet from sealing shut.
Mark let go of the device just before he hit the sharp corner of the slowly rising hatch door, leaping to catch Alec’s hand and grab at the metal with his other. He lost his grip, but Alec held him firmly, pulling him headfirst through the narrowing gap. It was a tight fit and Mark had to squirm and kick, but he finally squeezed through just in time, though he had to yank the sole of his shoe loose from the closing jaws of the hatch. It slammed shut with a thunderous boom that echoed off the dark walls of the Berg’s interior.
It was cool inside, and once the echo faded, the only thing Mark could hear was the sound of his own heavy breathing. The darkness was complete-at least for his unadjusted eyes, after being out in the blinding sun. He sensed Alec nearby, also sucking in air to catch his breath. Every last inch of Mark’s body ached, and he felt blood oozing in several spots. The Berg had come to a stop, humming as it hovered in place.
“I can’t believe we just did that,” Mark said, his voice echoing. “But why isn’t there an army of people waiting here to take care of us, throw us overboard? Shoot us with those darts?”
Alec let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know. They might have a skeleton crew, but I think there’s at least one guy in there waiting on us.”
“He could be aiming one of those dart guns at my head right now.”
“Bah!” Alec spat. “It’s my guess those guys were nobodies, sent in to do the job professionals should’ve done. Maybe we cleaned out their crew. Everyone except the pilot, at least.”
“Or maybe there are ten guys with guns waiting outside this room,” Mark muttered.
“Well, one of those two scenarios, anyway,” Alec answered. “Come on, let’s go.” The soldier shuffled forward; Mark could only track his movement from the sounds he made. It seemed like he was crawling.
“But…,” Mark began, then realized he had nothing to say. What else were they going to do, sit there and play blind hopscotch until someone came out to greet them with cookies and milk? He got on his hands and knees, wincing from the beating he just took, and followed his friend.
A faint light source appeared a few feet ahead, and as they got closer their surroundings began to come into focus a bit. They seemed to be in some sort of storage room, with shelves along all the walls and straps or chain-link doors to keep everything in place. But at least half of the shelves were empty.
The light was a glowing panel above a squat metal door with bolts lining its edges.
“I wonder if they locked us in,” Alec said as he finally stood. He walked over to the door and tried the handle. Sure enough, it wouldn’t budge.
Mark was relieved to stand up-the floor was hard against his knees-but his muscles complained as he pulled himself to his feet. It’d been a while since he’d exerted so much energy, and getting the tar beaten out of him by a bunch of trees was an absolute first.
“What’s going on, anyway?” he asked. “What does anyone want with our little nothing of a village? And shooting us with darts? I mean, what was that?”
“I wish I knew.” Alec pulled at the door harder, yanking on the handle, still to no avail. “But those people sure dropped like flies once those suckers stuck in ’em.” He turned away from the door with a frustrated look, then put his hands on his hips like an old lady.
“Dropped like flies,” Mark repeated quietly. “One of them happened to be Darnell. You think he’s okay?”
Alec shot him a look that said You’re smarter than that. And Mark knew it was true. His heart sank a little. Everything had been such a mad rush since the Berg had arrived that it registered only now: Darnell was probably dead.
“Why are we up here?” Mark asked.
Alec pointed a finger at him. “Because it’s what you do when someone comes to your house and attacks your people. You fight back. I’m not going to let these bloodsuckers get away with that crap.”
Mark thought about Darnell, about all those people hurt and confused, and he realized that Alec was right. “Okay. I’m in. So what do we do?”
“First, we’ve got to get this blasted door open. Help me look, see if we can find something to make that happen.”
Mark wandered around the room, though the light was pitiful. “Why are we just hovering right now anyway?”
“You sure like to ask questions I got no way of answering. Just peel those eyeballs and get searching.”
“Okay, okay.”
At first Mark only saw junk and more junk. Spare parts, tools, boxes full of supplies-everything from soap to toilet paper. Then he saw something strapped against the wall that he knew Alec would like: a sledgehammer.
“Hey, over here!” Mark shouted. He lifted the thing out of the straps, weighing it in his hands. “It’s nice and heavy-perfect for you to beat the door down with your gargantuan soldier arms.”
“Not as strong as they used to be.”
The old bear grinned, the faint light glinting in his eyes, as he took the wooden shaft of the hammer. He marched over to the sealed door and started whacking at it. The thing had no chance, but Mark figured it might take a good minute or two of work to break it down. He just hoped that when it opened there wasn’t an army of green-suited thugs waiting on the other side.
Clang. Clang. Clang. Alec kept at it, the dents getting bigger.
Mark poked around more, hoping to find some kind of weapon for when that door finally came open. At least Alec had a huge sledgehammer to swing. Something in the darkest corner of the room caught Mark’s eye, a section full of hard-cased boxes maybe two feet long and a foot high and deep that looked like they were made to protect something important. Some were open and empty; others were sealed.
He hurried over and strained his eyes to see, but it was too dark to make anything out. He picked up one of the sealed boxes-it was lighter than he would’ve guessed-and moved back into the light, then set the box down on the metal grate of the floor. Leaning over, he finally got a good look.
There was a warning symbol plastered across the top, the kind that indicated the contents were some sort of biohazard. A label below the symbol said:
Virus VC321xb47
Highly Contagious
24 Darts, Extreme Caution
Mark suddenly wished he hadn’t touched the thing.
CHAPTER 7
Mark straightened up and moved a few feet away. He couldn’t believe he’d handled the box. He might even have opened it if he hadn’t brought it into the light first. For all he knew, those darts had broken during the flight of the Berg. Maybe the virus had even seeped through the small cracks in the container. Not to mention there were open boxes on the shelves, though they appeared to be empty.
He wiped his hands on his pants, stepped away even farther.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
Alec stopped, breathing heavily. “One or two more whacks and I think this baby will bust open. We need to be ready. Find any weapons?”
Mark felt sick. As if microscopic bugs had leapt from the box to his skin and were burrowing their way to his blood even as he stood there. “No, just a box holding darts filled with a deadly virus. Maybe we can throw some at them?” It was meant as a joke but somehow made him feel even worse as the words came out.
“What? A virus?” Alec repeated in a doubtful tone. He walked over and peered down at the box on the floor. “I’ll be… So that’s what they were shooting at us? Who are these people?”
Mark panicked. “What if they’re waiting on the other side of that door?” he asked. “Waiting to put darts in our necks? What are we even doing up here?” He could hear the rising alarm in his own voice and was ashamed of it.
“Calm down, boy. We’ve been in a lot tougher situations than this,” Alec answered. “Just find something-anything-you can get your hands on and bang away at somebody’s head if they come charging. You wanna let these people get away with dart-gunning some of our friends? We’re up here now. There’s no turning back.”
The fight in Alec’s voice made Mark feel better, more sure of himself.
“Okay. I’ll look.”
“Hurry!”
Mark had seen a wrench strapped to the wall near the sledgehammer. He ran over and grabbed it. He’d been hoping a real weapon might reveal itself, but the foot-long piece of metal would have to do.
Alec had the sledgehammer in his hands, ready to slam it against the beaten-up handle of the door. “You’re right that they might fire at us as soon as this pops open. Let’s not charge through like a couple of dumb gorillas. Get over there and wait for my command.”
Mark did as he was told, pressing his back against the wall on the other side of the door, holding the wrench tightly. “I’m ready.” Fear pulsed within him.
“All right, then.”
Alec lifted the sledgehammer high, then brought it crashing down against the handle. It took two more hits for the whole thing to finally break off with a crunch. One more swing and the door swung open, shooting outward and slamming into the wall on the other side. Almost immediately three darts cut through the air, swoosh, swoosh, swoosh, clanging off the far wall. Then there was the sound of something clattering against the floor, followed by footsteps running away. Just one person.
Alec held up a hand as if he thought Mark would go charging after the guy. Then he peeked around the edge of the doorframe.
“All clear. And the rat must’ve run out of darts, because he threw his gun on the ground. I’m beginning to think this Berg only has a few people on it. Come on, let’s go catch that weasel.”
Alec leaned out into the open a bit farther, sweeping his gaze back and forth one last time. Then he moved into the dimly lit area beyond. Mark took a deep breath and followed him into the hallway, kicking the dart gun away in disgust. As it clattered across the room and hit a wall, he pictured Darnell, that dart sticking straight out of his shoulder. Mark wished he had more than a wrench in his hands.
Alec held the sledgehammer in both fists, cocked at an angle as he crept through the narrow hallway. It was slightly curved, as if it followed the circular outer edge of the craft. Glowing panels like the one they’d seen in the hatch room were spaced about ten feet apart, providing the only light. They passed several doors, but each was locked when Alec tried them.
Mark battled his nerves as they walked, trying to be ready if anything jumped out at him. He was just about to ask Alec about the layout of a Berg-he remembered that the man had once been a pilot-when he heard a door slam up ahead, then more footsteps.
“Go!” Alec yelled.
Mark’s heart lurched and he broke into a sprint, following Alec down the curved passage. Mark could only catch a glimpse of a running shadow up ahead, but it looked like someone in one of the green suits they’d seen earlier, without the headgear. The person yelled something, but the words were indecipherable as they echoed off the walls of the hallway. It was definitely a man. Most likely the one who’d shot at them.
Engines revved all around them and the Berg jerked into motion, blasting forward in a rush of power. Mark lost his balance and crashed into a wall, bounced off, then tripped over Alec, who was sprawled on the floor. The two of them scrambled to their feet, grabbed their weapons.
