by TW Iain
Brice thought of the severed arm. “None up there now?” he asked.
“Some hung on for a while, but I guess it was too slippery.” Nyle’s voice was a monotone
“Slippery everywhere in this weather,” Brice said, remembering the river of mud, and the landing pad ramps. He remembered how he’d staggered while carrying Cathal, and how the blanket got caught round his feet.
And now he remembered Osker dragging Cathal into the Proteus, and how Cathal’s skin had been burning in the light.
The blankets were standard issue, from the hold-out. But a Proteus was a crew’s home-from-home. The quarters were personalised. Keelin had her red-lined fleece topper. Ryann had her brilliant white bedding.
None of them had a blanket that looked as grey and nondescript as the two on Cathal. Correction—the one on Cathal.
And the one on this Proteus. The one in the overflowing storage space. The blanket that looked like it had been soaking in mud. Or something worse.
The room spun, and Brice grabbed the back of Keelin’s chair.
“What is it?” she said.
Brice turned to the door of the bridge. He swallowed.
“We didn’t get rid of them all,” he said.
Ryann knew they were not alone. As soon as Nyle got them airborne, and the creatures clinging to the hull had fallen, a single trace remained.
She didn’t believe it would attack while the lights were on sol. She’d sussed Nyle, telling him to keep that setting, at least for the moment. She said it was a comfort.
She knew he didn’t believe her. But, even though this was his craft, she outranked him. He could question her, but he couldn’t deny her request. Especially not when her crew outnumbered his.
She hated the coldness of that thought. Lives should never be reduced to simple numbers. Besides, she didn’t even know the numbers for her own crew. Cathal was alive, but for how much longer? And Tris—until she knew for certain, he was in limbo.
She had not asked Brice what happened, and her lack of knowledge, her lack of understanding, left a hollowness inside. But how could she expect him to talk, after everything that had happened? He’d been running on nervous energy the whole time he cleaned, and she’d only kept him at those tasks because he needed time. He needed to work the adrenaline from his system.
But she wanted him out of the way as quickly as possible. There had been too many casualties already—not only Tris missing, but Osker too. She didn’t want to lose anyone else. She needed Keelin, Brice and Nyle to be safe.
So when Brice finished tidying, and when he sealed the door to the bridge behind him, she smiled. Because finally she was alone. Only herself and Cathal.
And the creature hiding under the blanket.
It hadn’t moved yet, but she could sense it waiting. There was a taste of uncertainty, but no fear.
Of course it didn’t fear Ryann. Remove the protecting light, and she was weak. The creature was powerful. Its claws could tear her flesh. Its fangs could rip her to pieces. It was a thing devoid of life, little more than a machine.
But it had life once. If Arela’s hints were true, that thing had been a person. Like Cathal. But the company had treated it like an object, and had turned it into something damned.
It would be a blessing for that poor creature if she could end its suffering.
And she knew how this could happen. She could open the hatch, using her position to override any fail-safes Nyle had in place. She could coax it to the edge, and she could push it out. Or she could grab it and jump.
Her face pulled tight, her mouth parched and her throat tight. The thought of throwing herself from the Proteus went against everything she held dear.
Yet it made perfect sense. Safety and survival of the majority. If she were to go—to die—while removing that thing, then four people returned to Haven. If she didn’t try, maybe none of them would make it.
Brice didn’t think, he knew. She’d seen the way he glanced at the blanket, hadn’t she? He was smart enough to have figured things out.
The Proteus lurched, and the lighting flickered. Ryann told herself it was nothing to worry about. Just the storm, and a patch of turbulence. Nyle had been through a lot. She couldn’t expect a smooth ride home.
And the blanket moved.
It unfolded out of the storage unit and glided towards the centre of the room. Patches of the cloth were dark and wet, and Ryann could smell the earthy mustiness of it, and beneath that the rancid stench of the creature itself.
The same smell that came from Cathal’s wound. Her hand pressed down on him, sensitive to the soft rise and fall of his chest.
The creature must be crouching, she realised. At full height, blanket would be almost on the ceiling. But that would leave its lower legs exposed. It was keeping itself covered.
How had it figured out to use the blanket for protection? Had it seen how they covered Cathal? Or was it an old memory, from when…from before it became what it now was?
The blanket stretched forward, as if the creature wanted a closer look at Ryann. She heard shuffling, like it was sniffing her out.
But it didn’t attack.
She wanted to tell Keelin to keep quiet. She needed to concentrate.
The girl wasn’t going to let her be.
She reached out with her lattice, focusing on the trace. She tasted its interest, and also its hunger, and sensed the struggle between the two. And it responded to her probing, pushing back.
At the same time, she pushed into Cathal. His lattice still repelled her, but now there was a spark from deep within, and she felt energy flowing. She sensed…not a normal sussuration, but something similar, and it reached out. Through her.
The creature pushed through Ryann too. As if she were nothing but a conduit.
Ryann focused tight, cutting out Keelin, and directed her energy towards the creature.
Then the lights flickered again, and the brief moment of dark pulled her back into the cabin. Or maybe it was the way the creature jerked.
The yellow glow returned, and the creature settled down.
Ryann’s body tingled, and her head throbbed. Pushing like this, especially into the unknown, was always a struggle. She needed a moment to recover. She could do without interruptions.
How could Ryann respond to that? There was no way she could tell the girl that she intended to throw both herself and the creature from the craft.
But Ryann didn’t believe that now. At the landing pad, the creatures had pushed into the light. In the confined space of this cabin, the creature could easily strike out. It might even manage that while still covered with the blanket.
Ryann glanced at the pile of torches in the corner. Maybe if she could shine one up under the blanket, she’d have a chance. If she was quick.
But she’d never be quick enough. The creature would be on her before she’d even thumbed the control
s.
The door to the bridge slid open, and Brice stepped through, followed by Keelin. The door sealed behind them.
The creature was fast. Even if Brice managed to pull the blanket, the creature would attack. In such a small space, those claws could reach both Brice and Keelin.
She couldn’t allow any more suffering. She had to protect her crew.
But it was too late. The blanket swayed as the creature turned towards the door.
The whole cabin stank. Rotten meat, decay and blood. Brice kept his lips firmly closed, and still it stuck to the back of his throat.
Ryann was where Brice had left her, sat next to Cathal. She had one hand under the blanket and the other raised in the air. Not to ward off the creature, but with her palm towards Brice and Keelin.
But he wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t going to let that thing win.
It was facing him now. He could tell by the way the blanket moved, and by the bulge as it raised an arm. Almost like it, too, was telling them to get back.
He wasn’t going to accept that from Ryann, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let some monster order him around.
Brice took a step forward. He told himself the tremble in his legs was from being cold and wet. His hand fell to his waist, and brushed against his lash. Useless, he knew, and he moved his hand further round. His fingers curled round the handle of a knife. He swallowed. The back of his neck itched.
The creature came a half-step closer. Brice caught a muffled hiss, and foul air washed over him.
Keelin shuffled to the side, and the blanket moved, as if the creature was watching her. She trembled, and took another step away from the door, her back against the wall.
Brice forced himself to side-step in the opposite direction. He didn’t want to leave Keelin so exposed, but what else could he do? Even if he stood directly in front of her, the creature could reach whoever it wanted. There was nothing he could do except remove the blanket.
And the only way he’d get close enough was if the creature was distracted.
His fingers twitched, no longer balled into fists. He stretched them, and pictured how they’d grab the crease in the blanket, up near the monster’s head.
Ryann hadn’t moved her body, but her head twitched, and Brice knew she was sussing.
The light flickered again. Brice swallowed, his throat dry.
The creature inched closer to Keelin, and she froze. A gasp escaped her mouth before she slammed her lips tight. Her brow glistened with sweat.
Brice stepped forward and brought his arm up.
And the blanket twitched. It spun as the door to the bridge slid open.
“What the hell are these things?”
Nyle stood in the open doorway, lash held high.
The lights flickered, then dimmed. Everything turned grey, and Brice saw the blanket rise up as the creature stretched.
“Nyle, get back and sort these damned lights out!” Brice said through clenched teeth.
The top of the blanket leaned in, and the creature sniffed.
“They killed Osker!”
Brice had no time to yell a warning as Nyle squeezed the trigger. The blanket rippled where the bolt of energy struck it.
But it didn’t move backwards. Instead, it rose higher. Brice took the scene in, even though it only lasted a fraction of a second. Dark feet emerged from the shadows, toes ending in hardened tips that curled over. Muscle rippled in the creature’s ankles.
Nyle screamed, and raised his lash again. Keelin yelled a half-strangled “No!”, and held one hand out, but another bolt struck the blanket.
The creature shrieked, sharp and angry. And then it jumped.
It bounded to the wall, between Keelin and Nyle. A black arm flew from the blanket, and struck Keelin across her face. She cried out as she spun, slamming into the wall and crashing to the floor.
The creature lifted the blanket high, exposing itself to the dim light. Its fangs glistened as it gave a victory cry and flung itself at Nyle, its claws digging into his back as the creature pulled him close. The blanket fell, covering the two of them as the beast held Nyle in that awful embrace.
The cloth did nothing to muffle the screams. Brice heard the crack of the lash once more, and then it dropped, and a foot kicked it away, as useless as it had always been. The blanket writhed, bulging out in all directions at one. Then it slid and fell to the ground.
The creature’s mouth was tight around Nyle’s neck, catching the arc of blood. In the grey half-light, Brice saw dark patches leaking between its fangs, and as Nyle’s scream faded out the slurping sound increased.
Then the creature pulled its head away, letting a few drops of crimson spill to the ground. It stood, and threw Nyle’s body aside. His eyes were shut. He didn’t move. Brice couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead.
The wound on his neck looked like the one Cathal had, only red and raw.
The creature rose to its full height, its head almost touching the overhead light that was no longer a threat. Dark moisture oozed from its mouth, the lips drawn back in a snarl. Then it tilted its head back, brought its arms out, and let loose a cry that was both pleasure and victory.
Only not to Brice. To Brice, it sounded like a death sentence.
The creature spun, hissing angrily, and stepped towards Ryann and Cathal. She had a hand stretched towards the torches, and it trembled as she watched the creature. But she carried on moving, and the hand that remained on Cathal started to slide towards the edge of his blanket.
The creature leaned in, and the sound it made was guttural and cracked, and full of menace.
Ryann froze.
Then she eased away from the torches, and her hand slid back beneath the blanket.
The creature backed off. Its head dipped in a grotesque parody of a nod.
Brice turned his head to Keelin. She stared wide-eyed at the creature, and Brice could hear her breathing, fast and shallow.
Yet he felt calm. His heart hammered in his chest, but his own breaths were slow and steady. And he was able to think clearly.
The creature had the advantage, but only because the light had changed. They needed to switch it to sol. Nyle couldn’t do that, but Keelin was a pilot. The Proteus would allow her to take control.
He caught her eye. He nodded his head to the door, then raised his eyes to the ceiling, hoping that she understood.
She looked to the door, then dropped her gaze. Brice followed it, to where Nyle lay in the doorway.
But Keelin didn’t have a choice. She’d have to step over him.
Brice signalled with his head again, to the bridge and to the ceiling.
Keelin nodded. She took a deeper breath, then started to shuffle. Her eyes darted between the door, Nyle, and the creature.
It remained in the middle of the room, as still as a statue. Brice could only see its back, but he knew it was focused on Ryann. And she stared up at it, like she was transfixed. Her lips were separated, and they twitched, as if she were trying to talk.
Keelin was close to Nyle now, and Brice saw her shudder. She whimpered.
Ryann’s eyes flashed towards the door.
The creature spun. It growled as it hunched over, arms out wide, claws clacking as its digits flexed.
Brice felt the knife at his side, and wondered when he’d unsheathed it. He stared at the beast’s rolling shoulders, and the bulge at the base of its neck.
He brought his free hand up to his own neck, rubbing the skin. And he remembered swinging a torch. He remembered it striking a creature’s neck.
Keelin’s eyes darted from the creature to the open door, he
r head unmoving. But Brice saw the way she held the rest of her body. He knew what she was preparing for.
And he knew how the creature would react.
She’d never get there in time.
Not unless he helped.
Keelin took one last look at the creature. Sweat beaded over her eyes. And then she ran.
Brice launched himself the instant she moved, and the creature lunged at the same moment. Brice threw his arms forward, and he grabbed cold, hard leather. He squeezed his fingers and pulled.
The creature stank, but Brice gripped tighter. The hiss became a wail, close enough to Brice’s ears that he felt the icy air shudder. Then he flung his other arm around the creature’s chest, keeping a vice-like grip on the knife.
The creature flailed. It spun, lifting Brice from the floor. He squeezed himself as close to the beast as he could. Clung to it like it had held Nyle.
Pain slammed along his spine as the creature threw itself back against a wall, and stars burst in Brice’s eyes. But the movement forced Brice closer. He shifted his grip, his fingers digging into the flesh under the creature’s armpit.
The stench burnt his nose. He swallowed vomit.
Claws raked across his arm, tearing his jacket, as the creature reached behind itself. It jerked forward, then slammed back, and once more Brice hammered into the wall. But the creature twisted at the last moment, and Brice slipped. He only held on with one white-knuckled hand.
The beast spun again, screaming, and a brilliant light flashed in Brice’s eyes. The stink of burning flesh hit him, and the creature twisted violently. Where Brice still grabbed the thing, under its arm, he pushed in with his fingers, and flesh rolled and bubbled, like it was alive.
Bright yellow beams cut through the air, and Ryann yelled in anger.
The creature lurched, and Brice’s boost struck the floor. The beast dragged him. Not away from the light, but towards it. Brice was thrown to one side as the creature thrust an arm round, and the beams of light flew away. Brice saw Ryann fall into a corner. She landed in the pile of torches, sending them skittering across the floor.
Brice’s fingers were white-hot, and he could not hold on much longer. He scrambled his feet, and then pushed with his legs. As the creature turned, Brice swung his free arm.