50
At this time of night, the Queens neighborhood was very quiet. The only sound that could be heard was a lone dog barking some blocks off in the distance. At 217 175th Street, two patient men in the basement entered their sixteenth hour of continuous work. Beads of sweat hung from their dark brows, and when it dripped, it nestled itself in thick, black beards. The temperature in the basement was a comfortable seventy-six, but the precision work was nerve-racking and required a steady hand. If they made a mistake now and accidentally detonated the device, it wouldn’t be the worst thing. After all, the two of them would not survive very long anyway under radiation exposure of this magnitude. And, since the device was to be used against the beast, it would have served its purpose well havi
