Countdown by Unknown Author Read Free Book Online Page B

pounded against a pair of heavy wooden doors. “Please, somebody! Let me in!”
    To her surprise, the unlocked doors swung open, almost as though something inside had been awaiting her. Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, she dashed indoors. Her eyes hastily surveyed her surroundings, looking for a friendly face or maybe just a safe place to hide. Lights from outside exposed the lobby of what had obviously once been a very elegant address. Marble columns and floor tiles greeted her eyes. A grand staircase led to a mezzanine overlooking the ground floor. An unlit crystal chandelier dangled from the ceiling. The bare walls and floor had been stripped of any expensive furnishings or carpets. Scuff marks recorded the departure of heavy desks or sofas, and cobwebs hung in the place of draperies Thick layers of dust suggested that the brownstone had been abandoned for months at the very least. Her footsteps echoed in the sepulchral silence of the empty lobby. Nothing stirred within the venerable walls, not even a rat or cockroach. The musty air smelled sour and rotten, like something had crawled inside the building to die.
    What is this place? Mary wondered apprehensively. The desolate setting sent a chill down her spine, reminding her of the hidden subway tunnel that had once led to the wizard Shazam’s timeless throne room. Is this how Billy felt the first time the wizard summoned him? As her eyes adjusted to the oppressive gloom, she made out more details of the lobby’s interior decor, which seemed to have a distinctly Middle Eastern flavor. Elaborate arabesques 'wound around the marble columns and moldings. Faded mosaic tiles, embedded in the walls, depicted the gods of ancient Egypt. Arcane hieroglyphics, inscribed throughout the chamber, made the forlorn lobby feel like the tomb of some forgotten pharaoh. Mary frowned; not too long ago, the wisdom of Solomon would have allowed her to read the hieroglyphics with ease, but now they might as well have been written in Kryptonian. She was certain that she had never set foot in this building before, yet somehow the place felt oddly familiar... .
    Her pursuers gave her little time to ponder the mystery, barging into the lobby after her. “Hope you’re not lookin’ for a phone in here, baby,” the leader of the hoodlums said with a sneer. Serpentine tattoos coiled atop his shaved skull. Metal studs and rings pierced his eyelids, ears, and lips. Death-metal decals plastered his scuffed leather jacket. A tarnished steel swastika hung on a chain around his neck. Steel-toed boots stamped across the marble floor. “ ’Cause this dump ain’t had water or power or nothing since them ragheads moved out!”
    Mary backed away from the snickering hoodlums. “Shazam,” she whispered uselessly. Her fists clenched at her sides. If I just had my powers back, she lamented, I’d teach these creeps a lesson they’d never forget. She hated feeling so scared and helpless. Mary Marvel would make short work of these losers.
    But she wasn’t Mary Marvel. Not anymore.
    Salvation came instead from an entirely different quarter.
    “Ragheads?” a deep voice sounded from above. “I detest that term.”
    All eyes turned upward toward the mezzanine, which remained cloaked in shadow. Who? Mary thought. For a moment, she thought that maybe Batman had come to her rescue—this was Gotham City after all—but the voice’s distinct Middle Eastern accent reminded her of someone else instead. Oh no, she realized in horror. Not him!
    A pair of powerful hands grabbed on to the skin-hea'd’s shoulders, yanking him off his feet. The startled punk yelped in surprise as he dangled several feet above the floor. Wet, rending noises cut off his cries as he was literally ripped into pieces by his unseen assailant. Blood splattered the walls. The mugger flew apart in more pieces than Mary could count. She gagged as a bloody fragment landed at her feet. Severed limbs hit the floor. A head rolled down