Then Tre’s radio began to sputter, perhaps affected by the MUTOs electrical aura. Static crackled loudly. Terrified, Tre tried to turn the radio off, but the switch had no effect.

“Shit, shit,” he cursed. “Come on, come on—”

The MUTO’S hideous face dipped in closer, attracted by the noise. Its crimson eyes narrowed in concentration. Drool dripped from its beak, which was big enough to swallow both men whole in a single gulp, and still have room for a nuclear missile or two.

Unable to silence the radio, Tre struggled to undo the straps of the backpack, but his frantic efforts threatened to expose the two men even more than the squawking radio. Ford grabbed onto the backpack to hold it still. He raised a finger to his lips. His eyes locked onto the other man’s, conveying an urgent message.

Don’t move.

Tre stopped wriggling and kept perfectly still. Sweat drenched his face, though, and his naked fear matched Ford’s own. Endless moments passed as the soldiers lay flat on their backs atop the bridge, waiting to see if they personally had reached the end of the line. The sheer unfairness of it all tore at Ford’s soul. He couldn’t believe that he’d survived the attacks in Japan and Hawaii, and finally made it back to America, only to be done in by yet another goddamn monster, only a few hundred miles away from Elle and Sam. He’d come so close to making it back to them.

But then the MUTO seemed to lose their scent or perhaps just its interest. Lifting its head, it reared up on its hind legs, blotting out the sky. Ford spied a large glowing nodule clinging to the underside of the creature’s abdomen, only yards above the two soldiers. The sight jogged his memory and he recalled some of the old photos Dr. Serizawa had showed him back on the Saratoga. The luminous nodule bore disturbing resemblance to the giant egg sacs that had been found in the Philippines years ago. The ones that MUTOs had hatched from.

Holy crap, he thought. They’re breeding.

The MUTO began to move off, heading west toward the coast, but then the tracks began to rattle, signaling the approach of an oncoming train. Ford realized with horror that the missile train was coming through the tunnel and had no idea that the MUTO was on the other side.

He prayed that the monster would hurry on its way, but no such luck. Attracted by the vibrating of the tracks, the MUTO wheeled about and trundled into the fog to meet the train. Obscured by the mist, it hunched over the tracks, eight monstrous limbs lying in wait. Its maw opened wide.

No! Ford thought. He leapt to his feet and sprinted toward the tunnel exit, shouting and waving his arms. “STOP THE TRAIN!”