“That explosion came from underground,” I said. “We have to get back to the bunker.” Armise and I took off at a sprint, blowing past the abandoned tent city and careening around the alleys back to the door leading into the President’s stronghold. The metal door had been blasted from its hinges—whether it was from the force of the explosion from elsewhere underground or whether this had been the point of entry I wasn’t sure. The guard that had been stationed at the door was dead, crushed under the hunk of shredded metal. I flung the door off his body and stripped the weapons from him. I threw the rifle to Armise and, taking his pistol in my hand along with his extra clips, I pocketed the grenades pinned to the dead soldier’s uniform and kept myself in a crouched position listening. The whiz of sonicbullets reverberated down the stone passageway leading into the bunker and filtered back to us. I looked over my shoulder at Armise. He had the rifle pointed down the entryway, his eyes scanning the darkness for movement.
