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"Guess we'll take it from here."

Jett turned in surprise at the new voice. To his shock, the dead Deviants were very much alive. They rose from the floor, looking like blood-soaked revenants. Bright blue eyes glowed from their faces. Even worse, each one held handguns at the ready, aimed at Jett's Hellrazors.

The Hellrazors aimed back.

"Shit." Beef shook his head. "We never checked to see if they were flatlined."

"That's right." Their leader grinned, displaying his pointed teeth. "Had your eyes so focused on the prize you forget to check the devils at the door. Figured this place had its secrets. Didn't know how to get to 'em. 'Til now."

Jett tilted his head. "I know you. The one they call the Skinner. You're Deacon Holden's right-hand man. Killed a busload of old people and kids. Took their scalps."

"That ain't but the tip of the iceberg." Skinner's eyes twinkled with cobalt fires. "Our work is scattered from one coast to the next. We are the scourge. Flaying this land of the sickness of aberrant flesh. The Deacon is the god of the desert. The Burning Man made flesh, come to baptize his disciples in fire to cleanse their souls."

Rosy glanced at Jett. "We taking this clown out, or what?"

"Everyone stay cool." Jett aimed his rifle at Skinner, using the terminal island as cover. "We can all get through this without killing each other."

"Don't know 'bout that." Skinner held a detonator clutched in his fist. For the first time, Jett noticed the harness that crisscrossed the leader's chest. It was strapped with C4 explosives.

"If you're thinking about getting a quick shot off, think again. I've already pressed on the detonator. My thumb comes off, we all go sky high. I guess you'll be wanting to drop your weapons and head back the way you came. Or else things are gonna get… sticky."

Beef clenched his teeth. "We drop our weapons; he and his freak friends use us for target practice. No go!"

"You think I won't do it?" Skinner hoisted the detonator up high, voice rising to a rabid howl. "This is the end of our days, you blind worms. The Deacon has seen the great and terrible eye open in the heavens, burning with its eternal gaze. We will witness the world that lies beyond when we are purged of these crude and useless husks. Our ashes will be turned to rays of glorious light!"

Jisei streaked forward, a blur of dark movement. A retractable blade snapped from her gauntlet, severing Skinner's hand at the wrist. She simultaneously clamped fingers on his thumb, keeping the detonator pressed down. Her other hand jammed a handgun into Skinner's open mouth. His eyes bulged, touched by fear for the first time.

She pulled the trigger, blowing his brains out the back of his head.

Gunfire erupted, turning the chamber into a close-quarter bloodbath. Jett fired at the nearest Deviants, howling as his team took mortal wounds from point-blank range. Bodies jerked in grotesque motion as the room flickered with muzzle flashes, the air filled with screams. In a matter of mere seconds, only one person other than Jett was left standing.

Jisei stood on wobbly legs, still holding tight to Skinner's severed hand. She appeared dazed, as unaware of where she was. Bullet holes perforated her armor in dozens of places. Jett knew that at such close range, most of them had penetrated.

"Jisei?" He edged around the terminal island. "Tatsu, can you hear me?"

Her head jerked up in recognition of her real name. "Jett…"

"Hold on. I'm coming to you."

"No." She thrust out a warning hand, retreating from him. "Take cover."

"Tatsu…" He stared helplessly.

"I can't hold this anymore. I… am sorry." She tottered, spiraling like a broken dancer. Finally, she went limp.

Jett dove behind the terminal island as the explosives erupted, destroying the room in a wreath of flame and concussive force. He was lifted off the floor and slammed into the far wall, covered in soot and debris.

His vision blurred from the fire and smoke that choked the chamber. His bones felt like water when he tried to free himself from the smoldering debris. Somehow he managed to stand upright, staggering on unsteady feet. Tears streamed down his face from more than the smoke. Charred bodies were thrown across the room, barely recognizable. He stumbled from one to the next, checking for vital signs. There weren't any.

"Jett…"

He followed the warbling voice, shoving away a blazing section of collapsed ceiling. Tatsu lay underneath. Her helmet was shattered, revealing her face. It was the only part of her that wasn't shredded by the explosion.

He dropped down, cradling her head in her arms. "Tatsu, I'm sorry…"

"Door."

"What?"

She pointed. He looked in that direction. The door that was previously sealed had buckled in, forced partially open from the force of the blast.

Tatsu stared at him. "Go."

His chest tightened. "What's the use? We were supposed to make it together, all of us…"

She placed a hand on his cheek. "Go." Her eyes filmed over, and her arm dropped to the floor.

He closed her eyes and gently laid her back down. Standing, he forced himself to tear his gaze away. The room was blackened, hazy, gutted by the detonation. Light effused from the doorway as if beckoning to him.

He went to it, squeezing his way past the broken door. Pain stabbed him with every step, wounds making themselves known as the adrenaline faded. Wrenching off his helmet, he let it slam to the floor. The narrow hall led to an elevator. He entered, collapsing when his knees buckled. The doors closed with a hissing sound. The momentary, stomach-churning sensation of falling passed as the elevator took him downward, deep down into the unknown depths. He closed his eyes, seeing the faces of his Hellrazors in his mind.

"I'm sorry." Tears slid down his cheeks. "It should have been me. It should have been me…"

The elevator's descent took forever. Consciousness fled, leaving him mired in guilt and darkness.

He awoke in a prison.

His heart exploded into overdrive at awakening inside a sealed pod just large enough to hold him. He tried to move, but his wrists, ankles, and waist were strapped down and secured. No matter how frantic his movements, he was trapped tighter than a rabbit in a snare.

"Ah, you're awake."

A man approached and stood over the sight-glass of the pod. He was mid-sixties, athletic build, silver-haired. His face was carved lines and rigid angles, the face of a man who gave orders and expected them to be obeyed.

Jett forced himself to calm down. "Let me out of here."

"Out?" The man's eyebrows lifted. "But you fought so hard to get in."

"Then this is… ?"

"A stasis station. As you must have known when you came charging in with your team. When the Deviants took the facility, I was so afraid they would find a way down here and ruin everything. But you took care of that, didn't you? Sad that things went the way they did with your team, but there weren't enough stasis chambers for all of them anyway. I think it worked out for the best, all things considered."

"Who are you?"

"My name is William Golding."

"The tech billionaire."

"Once. It doesn't matter anymore. Still, my billions secured this facility, myself, and a few staff members. And now, you. As you know, the word above is coming to its long-delayed end. Absolutely dreadful to witness before all the cameras were destroyed. Anything on the surface will be annihilated within the next forty-eight hours. The fallout will contaminate the atmosphere for the next few centuries. There is nothing we can do except hibernate, entrusting our lives to this technology in order to awaken into a new future. For your part in eliminating threats to my enterprise, this is your reward." He gestured to the stasis pod.

Stepping to a nearby panel, he tapped a few keys and pressed a green button. "There really is no way to prepare yourself. Just try not to let the panic kill you."