Moving swiftly down the corridor, Andrews and his two newfound companions ran hell-for-leather. They had only just entered the passageway when a horde of bloodthirsty fiends appeared on their heels, screeching like lunatics under the effects of a full moon.
“Try to keep up!” Andrews shouted over the clamour.
After a moment, Andrews let the other two overtake him.
“What are you doing?” the woman’s voice was panicked and shrill.
“Just go!” Andrews said forcefully, dropping down onto one knee. “I’ll hold them back!”
Beretta gripped firmly, the security officer squeezed the trigger, letting off several rounds, the empty casings clattering by his boots. One of his bullets hit an incoming figure square in the chest, causing the deranged-looking man to face-plant. This didn’t trouble those figures shambling behind him, however. Rather, they trod right over the man’s limp profile and kept coming. Still, the maniacs’ advance was restricted by the tight confines of the corridor. This at least worked in Andrews’ favour as they were unable to outflank him or overwhelm him, constricted as they were. Firing again, Andrews managed to strike one of his pursuers in the belly, the wound spewing blood like sauce from a broken ketchup bottle. This time his target, although hit, did not fall. Instead, the rampaging tide of flesh and bone just kept coming for them.
“Fuck this!” Andrews jumped to his feet. He knew if he didn’t keep moving, then they were going to overwhelm him, and sooner rather than later.
Spinning on his heel, Andrews took off, racing after his two cohorts who had just crossed into B-2. Standing on either side of the doorway, they called out to Andrews, eagerly waving him on, encouraging him to pick up his speed.
You can make it! he told himself. Just keep pushing.
All of a sudden, the lights went out, and the passageway descended into total darkness. Andrews felt a sickening knot take hold in his belly.
Has the power been cut? he wondered.
Following this, several things seemed to happen all at once. Andrews felt his stomach heave nauseatingly as the ship rose and fell, riding a series of huge, undulating waves. The unexpected motion threw him off balance, and the security officer collapsed to the floor, landing with a discernible thud! The man’s pistol fell from his grasp as his ankle shifted painfully beneath him, pain shooting up his leg all the way to the thigh. Simultaneously, he heard – who he could only assume was – the short-haired woman screaming hysterically somewhere up ahead, lost to him amid the blanket of darkness.
Get up! a voice in the back of his head ordered him to keep moving.
As Andrews made to stand up, a series of horrifying guttural snarls reached his ears. These were accompanied by the ominous sound of shuffling footsteps. His shadows had caught up to him. They were close. So very close.
There in the darkness, Andrews’ pursuers surrounded him, collapsing on top of him in a messy heap, hissing and biting, covering him in sickly salivate, Andrews did something then he hadn’t done since he was a very young child – he pissed his pants. In seconds, a warm stream of urine left his urethra, the liquid seeping through the fabric of his pants and spilling over the floor around him.
Up ahead, the man and woman he had escorted to safety listened as he screamed, crying out as the lumbering mass of inhuman things – the vile spectres of men and women he had been assigned to protect – ate him alive. Wrenching limbs free and biting off portions of flesh to dine on, the horde of monsters mercilessly eviscerated the young man. Andrews was a week shy of his twenty-third birthday.