Damon screamed, leaping up and into another volley of gunshots from Blackwell’s pistol. Elena scrambled to find her own firearm while Damon staggered, his tentacle arm nearly severed. He leaped toward Blackwell, who backed away, still firing. His Beretta finally clicked empty.
Nathan yelled, tackling Damon from behind. They fell in a tangle of arms and legs. Damon won the battle, slamming Nathan to the floor. Nathan struck with his knife, stabbing Damon deep in the neck. Damon shrieked in enraged pain, dripping black blood like a leaky faucet.
Elena’s hand fell on her pistol. She turned, aimed, and fired several rounds into Damon’s head. He fell on top of Nathan, convulsing.
Nathan scrambled to get away, his face twisted in revulsion. “Is he dead?”
Blackwell reloaded and fired a few more times. Damon’s body jerked in response, but didn’t move. They watched in morbid silence as his wounds quivered. Steaming liquid metal dribbled from the cavities. His body shuddered, his teeth clamped together with metallic clicks.
“What’s it going to take? It looks like his body is dissolving the bullets.” Blackwell patted his pockets. “I’m out of ammo, and he still doesn’t look dead enough.”
A hand reached out, jamming a grenade into Damon’s mouth. Charlie Foxtrot left a smear of blood across the floor from dragging herself over. Her entire body trembled from the effort. Shaky fingers looped around the pin. She managed to turn her mangled head. The words were barely understandable from her ruined mouth.
“Ged da hell outta here.” She snatched the pin out and released the lever.
“Go.” Blackwell snatched the sample container up and helped Nathan to his feet. “Go, go!”
Elena sobbed, turning with the others. All of them were in bad shape, shuffling along as fast as they could. The blast erupted behind them. A giant hand shoved Elena in the back, creating pain and weightlessness. Everything flickered in a battle of grainy flecks of light and dark.
Darkness won.
Chapter 24: Ignis Fatuus
Nathan coughed, wincing at the pain in his chest. Recollection flickered like an old television set. Grainy slivers of memory slowly coalesced. The Aberration. Fog, rain, and nightmares. Damon. An explosion… He groaned, trying to sit up.
His heart nearly exploded when hands seized him from behind, roughly pulling him to his feet. He flailed and whirled around, eyes wide and arms swinging.
Blackwell jumped back, arms raised. “Friendly here, Nate. Cool it.”
He looked worse for the wear, his face bruised and blood trickling from a cut in his scalp. “You have a gun on you?”
Nathan patted himself, still trying to shake the dizziness away. “No.”
“Damn it.” Blackwell’s eyes scanned the smoke-hazed surroundings. The sample case was firmly gripped in one hand. “I put all my bullets into Damon. Sure hope that blast was able to kill him, because we’re sitting ducks. I just heard from Guy. He found the nuke and will set the timer. We have to move. The sub isn’t far.”
“Elena.” Nathan dropped to where she lay prone on the sooty floor. Relief flooded when he saw her still breathing. Her jumpsuit was slightly tattered, but he didn’t spot any serious injuries. He gently shook her. “Come one, Ruiz. Gotta get up.”
She blinked, eyes disoriented. He helped her sit up and motioned to Blackwell. “Give me a hand.”
Blackwell gave Elena a considering look before finally leaning over to offer a hand. Looping her arm around his shoulders, he and Nate lifted her up. She gave a groggy shake of her head.
“Can… walk on my… own.”
“Sure you can.” Nathan looked over his shoulder as they limped along. The hallway behind them was shrouded, a dirty haze that anything could hide in. His skin prickled with the unclean sensation of invisible eyes peering from the murky fog. Tiny flecks hung in the air, hovering like newborn snowflakes.
He nodded to Blackwell. “I got her. Go ahead and open the door.”
Blackwell disentangled from Elena’s arm and dashed ahead. The flakes fell faster, as though the ceiling had been replaced by wintry clouds. Nathan grimaced when a wave of dizziness made the room blur for an instant. Feeling completely disoriented, he glanced up.
Something moved across the ceiling.
Elena sensed his discomfort, shifting her body weight to look at him. “What is it?”
He didn’t answer as he squinted upward. It was difficult to spot, as though perfectly camouflaged to blend with the white of the ceiling. But something moved, something with the uncomfortable appearance of a large, barely discernable insectoid body.
The door clicked shut in front of him, followed by the ominous sound of a bar sliding into place.
Nathan’s hand flew to the handle. The door wouldn’t budge. He slammed a fist against the reinforced window. “Open the door, Blackwell!”
Blackwell stared from the other side of the glass, glassy-eyed but calm. “I’m sorry, Nate. I’m sorry. But someone has to make it. We’re out of weapons. We can’t fight them anymore.”
“We can fight together, Blackwell. Damn it, you can’t do this to us!”
“I’m sorry.” Blackwell backed away from the door, clutching the sample case to his chest. “It’s not personal, Nathan. Just don’t have any other choice.”
“Open the door, Alex. You hear me?” Nathan pounded on the gleaming metal. “Don’t do this. Don’t do it, Alex!” He screamed in rage when Blackwell turned and ran down the hallway, rounding the corner and vanishing.
Elena’s voice was a shuddering whisper. “Nate.”
He took a deep breath, filled with dread when he turned. A trio of ghostly figures flitted down from the ceiling, borne on paper-thin wings dappled with markings that looked like human eyes. The creatures were humanoid, covered in white down from head to foot. Oversized crimson eyes glimmered from their angular heads, and jagged fangs glinted from their cruel mouths.
One of them screamed.
The sound was of a woman in agony, so piercing and gut-wrenching that Nathan automatically recoiled. The other moth creatures followed suit, shrieking and fluttering their delicate wings. Powder was flung into the air, fine particles that coated the walls and floor, burning as Nathan inhaled. The hall distorted, kaleidoscopic patterns of red eyes and transparent wings danced across his vision. He heard Elena cry out, but couldn’t see her. The mothmen closed in, their screams ringing in his ears. He stumbled and fell, buried by cascading powder and velvety insect bodies.
“Nate?”
Elena’s stare was a mix of concern and amusement. She waved a hand in front of his face. “Kind of lost you there.”
He blinked, looking at their surroundings. Why did it seem confusing? He knew where he was. At the hotel in Miami. Alone in the hallway, with Elena.
She laughed at his confused expression. “Wow, this is way beyond zoned out. Did you hear what I said? Night cap? My room?” She raised a teasing eyebrow.
“But… you don’t have a room here.”
“Sure I do. You coming? Don’t make a girl ask twice.”
She took him by the hand and led the way. He felt dazed, walking along automatically. A moth fluttered in front of his face. He waved it aside as Elena swiped her key card across the door pad.
“God, I’m never this forward.” She giggled. “But it could be our last night, right?”
“Right…” He took a last look around the hallway before Elena pulled him in.
Her fingers brushed his face, wrapped around his neck and pulled his mouth to hers. She tasted just as he imagined she would. A surge of heat flushed across his skin. He wrapped his arms around her, trying to lose himself in her scent, her lingering kisses…