Somehow it wasn’t even a surprise when a trio of grimy, bloodied soldiers sprang out the foliage yelling and pointing weapons in a terse moment of barely-restrained violence. Elena recognized Michael and Charlie Foxtrot. Right in between them was Sid Damon, a skeletal grin on his cheeks.
Elena stepped up and punched him in his face. Tired as she was, the impact barely turned his jaw.
Laughing, he sidestepped her second swing and twisted her arm with such force it almost popped out the socket. She was forced to bend over in the most awkward pose possible, so furious that tears streamed down her cheeks.
“You son of a bitch. You left us. You left us to die. You could have helped Ariki. He’s dead because of you!”
“Not my problem. Ariki was a soldier. He knew the deal. Now, are you going to be a good girl, or would you rather I finish tearing off your arm?”
“Three seconds to let her go.” Nathan’s voice was so fierce that Elena had to crane her neck to verify it was him. His pistol was planted against Damon’s temple, finger quivering on the trigger.
Damon snorted. “Think you have the guts, boy?”
“Two seconds.”
The agony in her shoulder eased when Damon released his hold with a raspy chuckle. “Well, well. You’ve seen it, haven’t you? Looked into the abyss and saw it looking back at you. Feels good, doesn’t it?”
Elena rose, rubbing her arm. Nathan’s expression was nearly feral, eyes cold and locked on Damon’s face. He never lowered the pistol.
“Nate.” Michael cautiously walked over. “We heard an explosion and were coming to check it out. Damon’s found a way inside this tower. Blackwell and Guy are waiting for us near the entrance. Understand? We’re not here to kill each other. Save your ammo for the monsters.”
“Monsters?” Nathan’s jaw trembled. “I’m looking at one.”
“Let it go, Nate.” Elena put a hand on his shoulder. “He’s not worth it.”
He exhaled a shuddering breath and nodded. The gun lowered.
Damon grinned. “Now that we’re all friends again, let’s head to the rendezvous before something worse than us heads this way. Time to take the fight indoors.”
Elena glowered at him. “What makes you think something intelligent is even inside?”
“Rules of combat, fobbit. Whenever there’s chaos, there’s order in the center. Someone pushing the buttons, keeping things just muddled enough to pursue their agenda undisturbed. All these sick, twisted monstrosities running around? Attack dogs. Guerrillas. Serving the sole purpose of keeping anyone incoming from entering the HQ. So that’s exactly why we need to get in. Time to meet the mind behind the madness.”
Charlie Foxtrot stared at Hayes. “What the hell happened to your face?”
“What do you mean?” His hands drifted up to the bloodstained wrapping. “My face? I got bit by a leech, but it hardly—”
“You look like a corpse is what I mean. The walking dead. Damn, I can’t believe you’re even standing up.”
Elena shot her a warning look. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
Charlie Foxtrot didn’t take the hint. “The hell it ain’t. You always was ugly, but you’re giving ugly a bad name right now. You look like someone used your face for target practice. I seen corpses that look better than you, kid.”
“I can take care of that.” Damon twirled a stiletto between his fingers. “Cut some of that rot from your face. Better now before it really spreads.”
Elena stepped in between him and Hayes. “You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you? You know he’ll die if you do.”
“He’s already dead.” Damon slammed the blade into its sheath. “You’re not doing him any favors. Should have left him where he was.”
“Like you did? You’re an animal.”
“You still don’t get it, do you? Animals are the only thing on this island. Only difference is whether you’re hunting or being hunted, get it? If we’re not doing surgery, we’re moving.” He gave her a wolfish grin before stalking off.
“Is it really that bad? I don’t feel a thing.” Hayes tenderly dabbed the swollen, discolored skin. “How come you guys didn’t tell me?”
“Because we didn’t want you to panic. So much for that plan.” Elena frowned at Charlie Foxtrot, who shrugged.
“Hell, just thought dude should know.” She shouldered her rifle and fell in line behind Damon. “If he’s still walking, I guess he’ll live. We better haul ass ‘fore the boogeymen catch our scent.”
Hayes stalled, pulling the gauze back from his face. Black oozed dribbled over his fingers. Trembling, he held up his Bowie knife to see his reflection. His eyes widened.
His startled yells echoed in the air.
“Privates Ruiz and Hayes. Good to see you alive. Nathan, you as well.” Blackwell peered down the scope of his Ruger precision rifle. Guy stood a few yards away, scanning the heavy mist. Blackwell kept his focus on the stretch of lush greenery just ahead of them. “Ariki’s not with you?”
“He’s dead.”
“Hate to hear that.”
“Yeah, I bet you are. Probably expected all of us to bite it.”
“On the contrary. We need all the help we can get. After all, we’re about to enter the stygian underworld and have a tete-a-tete with an interdimensional Hades. But first we have to get through that.”
Elena looked in the direction of his pointed finger. The glossy black obelisk was close enough to clearly see the cryptic runes imprinted across its surface. But surrounding it was a thick tangle of tall stalks with long, flowering buds. Fibers as fine as silk drifted from some of the stems, glowing with luminescent blossoms.
“You think something’s hiding in there?”
“Worse. Our friend Guy says the plants themselves are the enemy. Carnivorous. We’ll have to be extra careful.” He turned from the scope, noticing Hayes for the first time. His eyes widened. “What happened to your face?”
“I’m dying, is what happened.” Hayes appeared on the verge of tears again. It took a great deal of coaxing to convince him to come along after he saw the extremity of his injury. “I’m rotting away, all right? A freaking zombie in the making. Got it?”
“Keep your voice down.” Blackwell frowned at Hayes. “Either you suck it up or I’ll have Damon put you out of your misery. Can’t afford to be attacked again when we’re so close.”
Hayes stiffened. “Sic your dog on me, and I’ll neuter him. Then I’ll come back for you.” He stared at Damon, who just grinned in response.
Blackwell clapped Hayes on the shoulder. “See? Aggression serves you much better than self-pity.” He turned to Guy. “How do you want to do this?”
Guy glanced at the group. “How many of you have respirators?”
Elena unconsciously felt for her missing pack. “I lost everything in the river.”
“I have one.” Nathan pulled a half-face particulate mask from the pouch on his belt. “It’s yours.”
“What are you going to use?”
“I’ll manage.”
“That isn’t a solution and you know it.”
“Aw, you’re breaking my heart.” Damon’s voice hissed out of the filter mask he had just slipped over his head. “One mask, two lovers. What to do?”
Blackwell secured a mask on as well. Charlie Foxtrot and Hayes gave each other skeptical looks.
“Guess we’re the only fools left out. What do we need masks for anyhow? Those killer plants gonna gas us or something?”
“Not gas.” Guy slipped a mask over his face. “Spores. The Yateveo lie dormant when not feeding. They periodically emit particles intended to induce an allergic reaction, which awakens them and alerts them to attack. They also use fibers from their roots in a fashion similar to trip wires. If you don’t have a mask, wrap a rag or two tightly around your nose and mouth. Follow me, and step where I step. Make no noise. Let’s go.”