Guy raised the shotgun. “Back upstairs! Now!” The reverberation of quickly moving feet told him that they obeyed. He never took his eyes from the screaming faces, which slowly contorted into leering grins; hideous smiles of malevolent triumph.
The familiar sound of keypad beeping never sounded so ominous. They had access to Rob’s memories. His code worked as well as anyone’s.
There was no way to keep them out.
The door crashed inward from their weight; liquid flesh spilled into the hall as they rolled on top of each other in undisguised eagerness, sliding across the slick tiles. Compared to their speed he was impossibly slow as he backed up the stairs. The duffel bag over his shoulder dragged like dead weight.
The nearest Other reached for him; elongated fingers yearning…
Guy pulled the trigger. Thunder filled his ears; shattering the brittle silence. He winced and staggered backwards from the reverberation more than the force of the blast.
Rob’s s grinning face exploded in wads of pulpy splattered chunks.
The gaping wound erupted with wriggling things. A torrent of pale, assorted insects: spiders, centipedes, cockroaches and thick earthworms spewed from the flailing corpse as it tumbled back into its comrades.
The insects surged over them; an endless sea of crawling legs and writhing bodies writhed endlessly. Faceless once more, the Others thrashed wildly as the insects covered them; their silent screams crawled up his skin.
He fled up the dark stairwell to escape their death throes.
In the reddened hallway he remembered his radio. “Michael? Drake? Where are you?”
“Guy? Thank God you’re still alive… we’re back in the lab. Are those… things still after you?”
Guy didn’t bother answering. When he entered the lab something swung at his head. He ducked and avoided the wastebasket that struck the wall behind him. “What the hell?”
Fran shrugged guiltily. “Sorry, I thought…”
“We heard a gunshot. Are they after you?”
“Not right now…” Guy stared down the hall. Nothing stirred in the blood-colored light. “I killed one. It started eating the others.”
“What?”
“Insects. Spiders and… other things. I don’t think it’s going to stop them. At best I slowed them down, I think.”
The group stared at him somberly. Michael finally broke the silence. “Listen. What… what you said earlier. Something about an… Aberration.”
Guy barked a rough laugh. “Still think I’m crazy?”
Michael’s face reddened. “Look. Everything is crazy right now. This is just…” He pounded his forehead with his palm, wincing. “I can’t die here. I can’t…”
Guy placed a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “Calm down. I’ll try to explain what I know.”
The others gathered around as Michael looked up. “What’s going on? Why the hell is this happening?”
Guy looked down the hall again. Nothing was visible. But they were there. He felt the whispers in his mind.
“To understand what an Aberration is, you have to first understand that there are other planes of existence that exist beyond ours.”
The others stared as the revelation sunk in.
Drake rubbed between his eyes. “You mean other… worlds?”
“Places like ours?” Fran said.
Guy looked at her. Her eyes widened at his expression.
“No. Not at all like ours.”
He took another wary look down the hall.
“You coin the term ‘evil’ to cover many things. Dictators and terrorists. Murderers and rapists. You have no idea what evil is. Where it lives.”
He looked back at them. “At least not until now.”
“What dimension are you talking about?” Drake asked. “Hell?”
Guy was silent a moment.
“The only thing I can tell you is that it’s a place of nameless terrors. Evil… simmers there. Trapped. Seeking a way into this world. We had no names for the manifestations that spawn from that darkness. We simply call them Others.”
Fran’s glasses reflected owl-like in the gloom. “How do you know about this? Who are you?”
Guy smiled bitterly. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try us,” Drake said. “It’s not like we have any other explanations…”
Guy sighed. “I am one of a few who remember, and even the memory is faded. We were given the name Warders and were tasked with locating Aberrations and destroying them before they can engulf this world.”
He paused. Their faces were skeptical, but they listened.
“Usually we track them by signs: unexplained phenomenon, bizarre sightings, outbreaks of madness, gatherings of ravens…”
Michael’s head jerked. “Ravens?”
“Ravens have been harbingers of catastrophic events for a long time. They see things that we can’t. They can sense the formation of an Aberration. When I saw the flock around the building today, I knew something was wrong.” He frowned.
“But this is the first time one unfolded directly at a location specific to me.”
“What does that mean?”
Guy folded his arms. “That the Others are taking the offensive. This is not a coincidence. It’s a carefully planned attack.”
Fran looked around as if expecting that attack any moment. “So, if any of this is true — and I’m not saying I believe a word — but if it is… can’t you find a way to contact anyone? You know — call for backup?”
Guy lowered his gaze. “I wish I could. We never used to work alone. Always in pairs.”
“So where’s your partner?” Drake asked.
Guy’s voice lowered. “The last one I had was killed. For all I know, I may be the last one left.”
Guy rubbed his arms, turning in the direction of the hallway. Their time was up. The dim light distorted from disturbed shadows that swelled in the gloom.
He placed the pistols on the table. “Hope you changed your mind about being armed, Michael. We’re about to have company. ” He crept to the side of the door and slowly peered around the corner.
Figures stalked the crimson painted hallway. Their gangly limbs jutted uncomfortably from their ill-fitted clothing as they shuffled in exaggerated motions. Their facelessness had become less distinct. They were still devoid of eyes, yet slit nostrils snuffed from the pale flesh as if in search of prey, and jutting fangs glinted metallically from the narrow gash that served as their mouths.
The Others had evolved.
Muroidea
Drake snatched up the nearest .38 pistol. Michael scrambled for the other, but Fran beat him to it. She quickly cocked it and peered down the barrel.
“What are you waiting for?” Drake’s voice rose in a girlish shriek. “They’re coming right for us!”
The nickel plate on the .38 glinted dully in the reddish glow of the emergency lights. Guy managed to duck as Drake screamed and pulled the trigger.
Time turned to jelly.
The retorts were unnaturally loud in the hallway; drummers pounded the inside of his skull with furious glee in time to the flashes from the exploding muzzle. Fran joined in with a wild yell, blindly squeezing off.
Most of the shots ricocheted off the floor, ceiling, and walls. Only one of the Others staggered as a pair of bullets seemed to strike it almost by accident. It rocked on its heels, refusing to fall. Its comrades paused, hovering as though perplexed by the steaming wounds. Their gangly limbs never stopped moving; they jerkily bobbed up and down like a flock of agitated buzzards.
Guy rounded on Drake and Michael. “Were you idiots aiming at anything? We don’t have enough rounds to waste!”
Michael pointed. “What the hell?”