We couldn't beat them. I knew that then. Our only chance lay in escape—and in hoping that something worse wasn't out on the street, waiting for us.
I ran through the space I'd cleared, then leapt onto the desk, and toward the weapons. Felt sting after sting on my back as creatures leapt aboard and began to munch. Pain bloomed as moisture began to trickle down my spine. I dropped the runt rifle and the spent laser, replacing them with two more lasers. Swinging around, I thrust back against the wall as hard as I could. Something popped, and moisture splattered to my feet. I hit it with both lasers, then fanned the beams across the floor as more of the creatures came at me.
"Misha," I said, without looking up, "we need to get the hell out of here. Where's the escape hatch?"
"Press the green button—top right-hand—" His words ended in a grunt.
I glanced up to see one of the spiders on his face and red moisture beginning to drip from his chin.
Dear God… I jumped across the mass of flowing creatures, squashing several of them under my shoes as I landed. After nicking the lasers around us in a circle and momentarily forcing the mass back, I grabbed the thing from his face, noting even as I tossed it away that it somehow seemed smaller. I barely had time to take in the mess that had been made of Misha's face—the half-chewed lips, mutilated nose, and scoured cheeks, before they were on us again.
I swung round, felt Misha hit my back, smashing the creatures attached to my flesh even as I killed those closest to our feet. And though the mass was half its original size, it was still too many for the two of us. We had to get out of here.
"Get to that release," Misha said, sweeping his lasers to the left and right, catching those creatures I missed. Orange light began to flash across the shadows, a counterpoint of warmth against the cold light of the lasers. Misha's weapons were nearing the end.
"And hurry," he added.
Like I was going to stroll. I glanced at the button, and from the corner of my eyes saw the liquid gleam of a creature coming at my face. Laser light speared the darkness from behind, so it was steam that crashed against my skin rather than spider. A shudder ran through me anyway, and I had to fight to hold back the scream that surged up my throat.
Swallowing heavily, I leapt forward, smacking my hand against the button so hard that the force of the blow reverberated up my arm. Nothing happened. No answering whine, no dark hole of safety. Nothing.
"The lever," Misha said. "Near the rifles. And toss me some lasers."
I grabbed two and threw them his way. He cast his own aside and caught them deftly, but in the brief pause of the changeover, two creatures hit him, one on the chest, the other on his thigh. My curse got lost in his, and I lasered the others that tried to attack him while he pulled the things from his flesh. Then I grabbed the lever and pulled with all my might. Half the armory slid to one side, revealing not only the darkness of a corridor, but a large blue thing with suckered fingers that were clenched into fist and flying my way.
The punch hit before I could truly do anything. Suddenly I was flying backward, over the desk and across the room. I hit the carpet with a grunt that forced the air from my lungs and had spots dancing in front of my eyes, and for what seemed like an eternity, I couldn't breathe, couldn't move, could only lie there battling pain and the rising tide of darkness.
Yet through it all, I'd clung to the lasers, and it was that instinct that saved me. Because the spots in front of my eyes became a mass of blue, and I fired the lasers without real thought. The creature screamed as twin holes were punched through his chest. It was dead, but its momentum carried it forward. I rolled out from underneath, gagging at the reek of death that filled the air as its body crashed to the carpet.
I pushed to my knees, then my feet. Saw Misha was still upright, still fighting. The blue thing was obviously just a safety measure, because nothing else had come out of the darkness of the stairwell.
Time to get the hell out of here. I fired the lasers, and kept on firing, sweeping them steadily against the mass of watery spiders as I ran toward Misha. The creatures skittered away under the assault, leaving a clear path to the stairwell. Misha leapt toward it, and I followed, spinning and firing even as the shadows and coldness of the dark stairwell closed in around me. Misha slapped a hand against another lever, then thrust his weight against the door. It slid shut, catching several of the spiders mid-leap, squashing them flat between door and wall. I lasered the dribbling remains just to be safe, then let loose a long, shuddering breath of relief. Though God knows why—we weren't out of the woods yet.
Misha leaned against the concrete wall, his eyes closed and breathing harsh. He looked like shit, and his mauled face was beginning to puff up and bruise, but at least he was still alive.
I touched a hand to his shoulder. "We have to move."
He nodded, and pushed away from the wall. "Up, not down."
"To the roof?" Fear skittered through my gut at the thought. "Won't that be trapping ourselves?"
He shook his head, and rubbed a hand across his stomach, wincing a little. "No. He obviously knows about this escape route, and would expect us to go down."
"But what's on the roof, and why won't he know about it?"
"They're gutting the building next door, and, in the last week, have punched huge holes in the side wall to get ready for windows. From the roof we can jump through them to one of the open floors. He wouldn't expect that."
That's because normal people wouldn't try it. And people who were afraid of heights certainly wouldn't. I licked suddenly dry lips. "Is it much of a jump?"
He shook his head, his look of pain intensifying. No surprise, really, given the mess his face was in. It had to hurt like hell to talk. "Not much for a wolf."
Oh God… I blew out a breath, and gathered courage. Facing a pet fear head-on was better than facing any more of those damn spiders. Besides, with Misha looking so bad, it was doubtful he'd be much use in the fighting stakes.
"You want to lead the way?"
He nodded and staggered forward, grasping the metal rail as he hauled himself up the concrete steps. Our footsteps echoed across the silence, and I could only hope that if there was something waiting down below, they'd think we were coming toward them, not away.
It was only ten flights to the roof, but it felt like a hundred. We were both trembling and sweating by the time we reach the metal door, but in my case, I knew its cause was tension and fear.
Misha pressed bloody fingers to a button and pressed it. Locks clicked, but I stopped him from pushing the door open. "Let me go first. I'm in better condition."
He nodded and hung back, his hand still pressed to his stomach and the look of intense pain seemingly entrenched on his mauled features.
Taking a deep breath, I slowly, carefully, opened the door. Nothing stirred the night except the cool breeze. Metal creaked somewhere to my right, and from the left came the steady hum of traffic, soft laughter, and babble of voices as people walked past. From farther away still came the bass thump of rock music.
Switching to infrared, I opened the door wider, and stepped out. No splashes of body heat greeted me, though if the spiders were up here, I wouldn't have seen them anyway.