(The Push Chronicles (Book 2): Indefatigable Read Online Free PDF Page A

but I wanted as much information as I could get while Archer was feeling informative.
    "Oh yes," he eagerly replied.  "First and most obviously, the weight of a steamer trunk with that much soil would be unwieldy for one normal man, no matter how strong, but there's more.  Performing a digital reconstruction of the trunk, there was a false bottom in which the soil was.  There are trace residues of gun oil, metal shavings, and explosive chemicals in some of the wood.  To conclude -"
    "We had terrorists with a crate of arms, explosives, and something hidden," I finished for him.  "Do you think -"
    "I do, I'm afraid."  He nodded grimly.  "The quibble remains though if they knew what they had or if that was a surprise set for them by another."  I started to pace, as was my nature when thinking.
    "They obviously didn't live down here, even before ... that."  I gestured at the corpses.  "They at least had the sense to booby trap the entrance, which that beast probably couldn't do.  So where's the rest of them?"
    "Perhaps I could pick back up the trail on the surface?"
    "Maybe, but that booby trap?  It collapsed the tunnel.  It might have scattered any evidence of their trail and I certainly didn't see anything obvious topside on my way here."  I wandered over to the pile of personal effects and fingered the matchbook.  "It's a stretch but -"
    "Not at all!"  The silver-clad hero stomped over and I tossed him the matchbook.  "As a lad, I favored a good puff myself and 't would often need matches.  Most likely the villain picked those up at some common hangout."  He shrugged.  "'T is a start.  Perhaps the clues and this ... 'Paul's Pub' establishment will converge, eh?"
    "It's a start," I conceded.  "I can get the rest of this evidence to my sources, see what they can dig up.  First, though ..."  As the last of the adrenalin pumped out of my system, the pain in my forearm was turning into agony.  I held it protectively to my stomach.  "Topside and medical attention."
    As if on some cue, there was a distant rumble and the distinct sound of cracking ice.  Wonderful.  Here came the other ex.  

Chapter 4 Relations
    "Indy," Extinguisher shouted as he slid into the room on a sheet of ice.  "Are you okay?  We -"  He was one of the least outwardly altered Pushed I knew, his rugged features and dark skin only highlighted by a perpetual layer of frost.  Still feeling a kinship to his roots, Ex wore his fireman's jacket over his new uniform, an ice-blue jumpsuit with reinforced boots and black trim.  Said jacket flared dramatically as he interrupted himself with a shout of "Crusader!" and raised a hand, glowing with blue energy, at Archer.  Three things happened in rapid succession.
    First, I suddenly realized the uncomfortable irony that we all called Extinguisher 'Ex' for short and he was also, at this point, my ex.  My ex-what?  I was still trying to decide the best spin on it.
    More importantly, Archer reacted in the way that Pushed tend to react to anything even remotely hostile, by instantly raising his massive crossbow as it whirred and clunked into arming position.  It was the classic comic book conceit of heroes having to battle the instant they meet for the edification of their readers.  In our twisted reality, it was just stupid and led to horrible injuries and at least a few fatalities.  This action led, of course, to action number three.
    I stepped between the two of them.  Archer was closer, so I shoved his bow away with my shoulder as I moved before raising both of my arms to my sides, legs set apart and braced.  I gave Ex a hard look.  He didn't deserve it, the Whiteout was to blame not him, but I couldn't help myself.
    "Hold it!" I yelled, then quieted myself.  "Both of you.  No more fighting."  Despite the pain I was in and the hunger my trance had already induced, I forced myself to try to look as vital as ever.  "I'd really hate to beat both of you up."
    "Are you sure?" the