Ambush
from "Underworld" (Alexandre Desplat)
If Marko had not known what he was watching for, he would have missed it. The Artimaeus Train blended almost seamlessly into the shadows of the glen. There was only the barest hint of its massive lumbering shape as it emerged from the forest at the valley’s mouth and any noise it made in its passing could not be heard over the music of the valley’s crickets. An occasional flare of red sparks from the railroad tracks beneath the ensorcelled train betrayed the magic that hid the train from sight and hearing. It had come -at last!- but it was late and moving slowly.
The others who waited at the far end of the glen needed to be signalled but Marko hesitated. His hands shook with suppressed adrenaline. He fumbled with his darklight receiver and dropped it. Blast. He bent to retrieve it and felt something sting the top of his ear and side of his head. He dropped flat in the tall grass. What was that? Clutching the receiver, he peered down the hill. The train had suddenly picked up speed. Marko flicked the top off the receiver and sent the warning signal. The receiver buzzed softly in confirmation that it had sent.
The train was halfway through the glen and still accelerating, red sparks popped and spit in greater frequency. What if Marko had been too late? Blast and conflagration! They had put too much into this for it all to come apart now.
His ear throbbed and something wet oozed down the side of his neck. Blood. The realization of his own danger came roaring back into his mind. The tracks immediately downhill from him were empty now that the train had passed. The grass wasn’t so tall that anyone could have hidden from him on the slope. The shooter must have been on the train.
But how could anyone on the train have known he was here?
An ear splitting shriek shattered the quiet. The trap had been sprung! Glancing around once more, Marko pushed himself up to run. He took a step and was hauled back and off his feet by an invisible hand.
“In a hurry, boy?”
