A Small Sample of "Pandoras Box"
By Mark Robyn, © 2004
John Dirk Forrester studied the empty street,
the empty block, the empty city from the top of the Empire State Building.
There was no sound except for the lonely howling of the wind, no movement but
for one sheet of newspaper skipping along the pavement on 47th street.
He knew it would not stay that way. Maybe today would be quiet, maybe tomorrow also; but
eventually it would find him again. It always found him, no matter how well
he hid; and like every other time, he would have to be ready or he would not
survive.
John was 42 years old, 6'2" tall, and 180 pounds with
graying at the temples. He was in fairly good shape for his age, had worked out when he had
a chance and ate only healthy foods. He couldn't afford to get paunchy; he had
to stay in top physical condition, if he wanted to stay alive.
He'd been in New
York a week and there was no sign of it yet. And so he had prepared. After
breaking into an armory, he had set up hundreds of mines on every major
street. Grenades on wires were strung across every major thoroughfare and
around the Empire State Building in every direction for three blocks; warning
devices really, they did it little damage.
He had placed cameras at each intersection for five blocks in every direction from the
Empire State Building and at key intersections allover the city. They sent
pictures back to a series of monitors he had hooked up downstairs in his
chosen living quarters.
Next to him on the roof sat a small arsenal: surface to air
missiles, a grenade launcher, a pile of grenades and a box of TNT with the
fuses installed, ready to toss. He had picked this building specifically
because of its view in all directions.
He had a Lamborghini waiting on the street below, keys in the ignition and boat tied
up at the nearest harbor, the fastest and most powerful cruiser he could
find. He would try to destroy it, but if it got too close and he had to run,
he was ready for a fast getaway.
Once he was on the water, he had time. It could travel on the surface of the water, but not as
fast as on land. John would have a chance to find another city, Rio de
Janeiro maybe next time, or Bangkok again, or maybe even Cape Hope in Africa,
and live in guarded peace for a while until it found him again.
John was feeling hope for the first time, for he'd noticed that it had been moving slower lately;
he was sure he'd damaged it time before last, when he lured it onto the dam
and then set off the explosives and the whole dam fell and it had been right
in the thick of it. It was washed away in a million pounds of crushing water,
and for a little while John had even dreamed that he'd destroyed it.
Read the rest of this story soon in a magazine at your local bookstore! Meanwhile, look for other great stories from Mark Robyn.
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Painting of Science Fiction Scene with Ray Gun and Spaceships
Brzezinski, Anton
