Her stammers aligned with a rickety jaw.
“CFC,” Felina’s lips muttered, her voice hardly audible.
“Irreparable,” Connell said firmly, an apology insinuative beneath the roots of his voice.
“Reid,” Felina said with an affable nod and slow words. “Do you know if Asher’s still alive?”
“He has a distinct voice, ya know? But I can’t be sure; screams from in here and out there, they all sound the same. And the awful noises the specimens make, one couldn’t possibly distinguish…and such awful noises, too, in the past fifteen minutes. Intermittent howls, like…dying men being reborn.”
As she said this, it didn’t register to them nor did it seem to with herself. She appeared confused with the words, finding them not only absurd but unjust too.
“You mean, like…” Felina swallowed, daring to continue. “The defects?”
Reid’s expression recoiled sickeningly.
“Oh, dear…no…I mean, yes…like that. But not them. Impossible. Sound cannot travel audibly between these facilities; chambers, yes, but not all the way to Intermediate or even Testing. Much less the MALBO lobby, or…” Reid trailed off briefly. She sniffled and recaptured the stability in her voice, stiffening her posture as well. “I suppose it’s possible they could’ve escaped; but only with the help of the healthy specimens, and even then, why would they cooperate? It would make the least sense, even amid all this chaos and insanity…damn Asher. Damn him to hell.”
Nobody had expected her last statement as it came abruptly out of the dismal blue, sparking a fire in her voice and steely eyes.
“Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page there,” Felina said, and glimpsed Loudon smirking. She shook her head then walked a few feet off to observe the surprisingly unblemished workspace not far from Palmer.
“Speaking of who,” Connell said, turning to Felina, “we best get moving. Once we snag Asher, with Reid in our huddle, we return to MALBO and get our asses back to the security center. Regroup with the rest of my men, Cassel, hopefully Ikabu, and his sentinels.”
“Wait a minute,” Felina held up a hand, making Connell scoff. She turned back to Reid and uttered a solitary question. “Why don’t you think the defects could escape on their own?”
A terrible sound that vaguely resembled the awfulness uttered by the defects clamored outside the room. They interpreted it as coming from one of the neighboring observation chambers. Then an auto-door slid open with a metallic whir, followed by a most peculiar sound. Like something dragging across the grated flooring, but not metal. Then the auto-door slid shut, and the croaking utterance that was a terrible cross between man and monster echoed through the outside corridor.
Felina’s skin crawled like a million maggots.
“That’s it, on me—Palmer, up front.”
Although everyone adhered to Connell’s order, Reid remained close to Felina and despite their endangerment still answered the question.
“Because, most of the defects were created with visceral flaws, too. Not all had their every functioning organ; most in fact were missing their livers and gallbladders. Chances are they didn’t even have bile ducts, much less the ability to—”
“Enough, be quiet!” Connell insisted in a sharp whisper.
“I thought they were deaf, though?” Palmer said, nonetheless hushed, and seemingly never without a perpetual look of confusion.
“The healthy specimens, yes,” Reid murmured. “But the defects, not necessarily.”
“Besides,” Connell sighed, slowly approaching the auto-door. “I’m convinced now that what we’re hearing and what she’s been hearing aren’t these “defects” you speak of.”
“Then what?” Felina asked, but Connell said nothing.
He instead took that final step and the auto-door slid open. The guttural croaking was caught by their ears in what sounded dangerously close. Connell proceeded to peer around the doorway’s right jamb and thus into the corridor, in the direction of the other rooms. In the same instant he gasped and recoiled, nearly bouncing off the other jamb. He staggered into Palmer, whose fingers lost traction on his Seighty but luckily its shoulder strap was secure. Connell was speechlessly terrified, and soon they all were.
A creature loomed forward, a single fleshy claw the color of mildew slashed out, swiping the air in the doorway. Its malformed head filled the space between the jambs, with a size and shape reminiscent of an adult gorilla. Skin tone, however, was entirely human—excluding the slimy and in some places hardened yellow regions of the flesh. What seemed to have once been a man was now pure abomination; its pelvis skulked, thus it dragged its legs in a crawling manner. The feet were dislocated but still dressed, while the shoulder blades protruded from their places in his back, rising like extensions of his spine, or in an abstract view like rigid veins. The sinewy flesh between the trapezius and these emerged shoulder blades actually gaped and undulated like gills, emitting a wheezing sound while the creature croaked from its jaws.
Whatever had happened to the man was still happening, warping his body into something all the more terrible.
It looked like a defect, but in an early stage.
There was no definitive life in its bloodshot-white eyes, however, except for an abandonment of hope.
Blood, saliva, and a yellowish fluid spewed from its mouth, rolling over a lipless bottom jaw. The reddened gums beneath its lower incisors extended unnaturally down to join with its chin, where bone protruded as if trying to escape its skull, and curve toward its chest.
These observations made in an instant’s notice.
Felina was certain she wasn’t the only one who felt her heart leap into her throat, then struggle to suppress rising vomit. The creature brought with it a newfound fetor that made the rankness of the MALBO lobby smell like a garden of spring flowers.
As Connell struggled to regain his composure, and Palmer just the same, Loudon had a clear shot. She put three quick rounds into the creature’s face, the first 10mm shot landing between its eyes. The next two scalped it, opening up its mangy pate with a splash of skull fragments and brain mush. Its cheeks sucked inward and it released a death-defying croak while its neck shriveled cyclonically. It seemed for a moment that the creature’s head was going to twist off by itself, but ultimately it just draped to one side, dangling past its right shoulder as it charged forward.
The sight was beyond sanity’s measure.
Fear had no grounds here, it demanded a greater word. And a strong stomach, none existed in such a time.
The abomination charged them with surprising suddenness, its upper body elevated via praying mantis-like forelimbs. They jutted up from its shoulders at an almost impossible angle, then the elbows inverted and the arms lowered to the ground. Most unnatural was the length of these appendages, they must have been twice the reach of an average man’s arms. The right one ended in a fleshy claw while the left formed a series of four ashen digits that seemed torn between the idea of fingernails or talons, the latter consisting of extended bone.
In spite of this twisted reality, the atrocity managed to acquire nightmarish speed with such little grace. It was a clumsy charge, and its dangling tetherball head must have exacerbated this; it certainly added to the sight’s horror.
Loudon panicked upon being charged, staggering backward and bumping into Felina. The Deci hit the floor and slid a few feet away, which Loudon quickly dropped to crawl after. Felina caught herself on a stool while it continued its charge, time seeming to bend at its will in a molassic hourglass.
And then Connell, who had stumbled to the right not far from Loudon, hipped his Seighty without further ado. He frantically fired it off, spraying the creature’s left side with a barrage of bullets. At first it seemed unfazed, taking the rounds to its susceptible flesh and enduring the damage without mind. It had arrived to its nearest target, a fallen Palmer, head dangling over him, spewing sallow blood and gore across his legs. He screamed in horror and panicky fingers struggled t
o clutch his Seighty properly. The bulk of it between him and the creature felt almost unbearable, so he impulsively reached for his holstered Deci but his fingers grasped nothing.
He remembered belatedly that he’d lent it—
Connell’s clip ran dry but not before unloading nearly forty rounds into the creature’s side, shredding its abdomen and torso until it was nothing but sinew and rib cage. Viscera dripped onto the floor beneath it, while its forelimbs struggled to maintain the weight of its death.
Felina’s feet arrived just above Palmer’s supine head, and she two-handed the Deci while squeezing the trigger. Seven rapid shots battered its right forearm, five narrowing on the raised elbow. This was more than enough to cut through the creature’s flesh and bone, rupturing the joint and bringing it down for good. Connell reloaded and stepped forward to pummel its skull with another burst until the head was one with the floor.
When Felina looked up at him, he shrugged and said “for good measure.”
Her eyes widened and she nodded, turning her back then while staring at the Deci until her hands fumbled for a nearby stool. She sat down on it, leaning against the examination slab and trying to control the shaking of her hands.
As Felina abruptly vomited onto the floor, Loudon coughed violently off to the side and Connell helped Palmer up.
“You alright?” Connell asked, appearing as sick as Felina’s stomach must have felt at the moment.
“That’s a negative,” Palmer said gravely, shaking his head. “Get back to me when we’re off this fucking ship and my answer might be different. Might be.”
Connell gave a shaky smile and patted his comrade’s shoulder.
“I hope that wasn’t Asher,” Loudon said on approach. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand and tried to seem in control of her own shakes, but was clearly struggling. Felina soon joined, face as clean as it could be given the absence of a lavatory, and she kept her eyes on the others, never lowering it. Unfortunately, this didn’t keep the severe odors from rising to violate her nostrils.
“You say that like you’re so sure it wasn’t one of those defects Reid mentioned.”
It was in this moment that they realized Reid was unaccounted for. They saw her legs protruding from the other side of the examination slab’s foundation, and upon further inspection discovered her death. Felina knelt beside her and checked her neck for a pulse, then her wrist. She shook her head up at the others but nobody could perceive a single wound.
The guess was heart attack, aneurism, shock, any number of things relevant to the unprecedented horror they just experienced.
“Her time,” Loudon murmured, and closed her eyes. Her head bowed and her lips moved to no sound.
Connell shook his head with grief in his eyes and joined Palmer in moving toward the door. Palmer spat onto the monstrosity’s corpse then grimaced as he reeled back, tripping on himself. Connell caught him and tried to placate the man.
“What’re we gonna tell the boys?” Palmer said under his breath. “Ain’t nobody gonna believe this shit.”
“Do you?” Connell said, cockeyed and bleakly comical.
“Fuck no, man,” Palmer scoffed. “This shit’s infernal. I want off this damn vessel.”
“What’re you doing?” Loudon asked.
Connell and Palmer turned to face the women a few feet away. Felina had taken her PDA out and appeared to be capturing a photo of the atrocity’s corpse.
“Um, what’re you doing?” Connell said himself. He shook his head. “No photos or video recording in here—just notes. Security protocol has it that way in the labs and bridge. So don’t even bother, it won’t—”
“Allow me?” Felina said snidely, walking around the corpse and showing the two Remoras her PDA’s hologram screen. Sure enough, she had taken both images and video footage of the lifeless nightmare. “I’m not proud of what’s now occupying my PDA, but I am proud to say I helped kill it and possibly save a life, despite the loss of another…” Felina swiped the screen and another image appeared—that of Anissa Reid, where she rested ten feet away. “Proof, for whatever future purpose, is better than none at all. Word-of-mouth does not carry shit like this. Now, I’m assuming that with the breach alarm sounding and this area of MALBO sealed off—technically—via the bay door, that some minor protocols have been lifted. So, if we find Asher, I’m gonna record every word he says…I’ll have to fumble with the PDA in my back sleeve, but I’ll manage. Everyone good with that?”
“How could we not be?” Connell forced a smirk. “Now let’s just get the F outta here. We’ll check the other rooms—cautiously—then bail. Palmer, take my side—not my six. Felina and Loudon, adjacent behind us. That corridor’s big enough for everyone.”
At long last they were returning to the outside corridor, thankful to have not heard any more suspicious sounds since neutralizing the last source.
Corridor clear, they proceeded to secure each subsequent room, hoping to locate a healthy Asher. As much as everyone despised him, moreover now, it was imperative that he still be alive—and, dare Felina think, human. How anything beyond that was even possible troubled her to the core, making her bones shudder with terror. Fear of the unknown, rooted in her flesh ever since the suspicions arose upon boarding the Manticore. She knew now that Madhavari’s reassurance a couple of days ago was purely a façade to comfort her and Loudon’s spirits, which must’ve been a taxing thing for him to do.
As was pretending to be any manner of calm now that they knew the truth. Even so, more than a morsel of unanswered questions remained at the crevice of her lips.
With Asher alive, she could wishfully ask them.
And the Remoras leading this search party would be more than happy to coerce the man into an answering mood.
The next observation chamber they entered was empty, but not unblemished. Blood splatters made a messy mural of the walls and silica-palladium panel. Scraps of human flesh, as if more than one person had been skinned in a hurry, could be distinguished. Some still slowly slid down the glass at a molassic rate. There was a great puddle of blood on the floor between the auto-door and central examination slab; it was a dark crimson, but dappling it in places was a yellowish fluid that also pooled at one side. The mass of all the bloodshed filled the room with a stench that was beyond this world.
Literally.
“I…I think that’s bile,” Felina said, shielding her mouth with a raised forearm as she spoke.
“Human or…?” Palmer suggested tacitly.
“Hell if I know,” Felina said. She then recalled the similar slimy fluid emitting from the Xeno’s jaws as it bit the female scientist earlier. And the convulsions she was experiencing thereafter…
A horrendous epiphany glistened Felina’s eyes.
She cursed under her breath, and felt her insides take a tumble. When asked if she was alright, she simply shook her head. Then she insisted they be on their way; her urgency to find Asher clearly tripled in a moment’s time and the others knew something was wrong.
More so than it already was, if possible.
Felina led the way this time, out into the corridor and hastily to the third auto-door down the row of four. She wasn’t using her brain properly, her gut knew this much, or else she wouldn’t have moved so fast without the company of the Remoras. And now she was entering the adjacent observation chamber, catching herself short just as the auto-door peeled open; but it stopped ajar, less than halfway. Gears grinded within the walls and a strident whirring sound reverberated outwardly. Sparks flew, skittering across the corridor grating, narrowly missing Felina’s face. She withdrew, yelping, by which time Connell and Loudon were there.
“It’s fucking jammed,” Felina said irksomely.
“Shit,” Connell said with a sigh. He looked at the next auto-door then at Felina, whose gaze insinuated that to continue without checking this one invalidated their purpose here. Even if Asher was in the next—
“I got it,” Palmer said, stepping forward j
ust as Connell seemed done with making up his mind. Now, he didn’t interfere with Palmer; the man seldom took lead, and now that he was in such a situation, Connell stepped aside. He however did not abandon his comrade. He stacked up on the left side of the door, the part that it had begun to open from. The gap was maybe eight inches wide. Inside the observation chamber, lights flickered terribly to the point where they might as well be shot. The sparks from the jammed auto-door were two-way—they spurted both into the corridor and inside the room, giving Palmer an even more chaotic view of its interior. With Connell to his left, Palmer peered through the gap in the auto-door but not without the vanguard of his Seighty. It squeezed through fittingly, its front half protruding into the room; through the glimpses of flickering-light Palmer discerned nothing healthy about its contents.
Some blood on the walls, a jagged hole in the wall near the silica-palladium that matched the last two rooms, including a similar one on the other side of the glass.
Any details beyond this, he couldn’t discern.
“Too damn dark,” Palmer grumbled.
“Hit your flashlight, Sherlock,” Connell said.
Palmer rolled his eyes and activated the Seighty’s integrated flashlight. A beam spread into the room, washing a wide angle without having to sweep his aim. In that instant, Palmer glimpsed a mutilated human corpse on the floor wearing the remnants of a white lab coat. Man or woman, he couldn’t tell—the wounds surpassed discernment. Connell’s perspective gave him a narrower angle that specified the far right side of the room; it was here that he saw—thanks to the secondhand light from Palmer’s Seighty beam—a second corpse. It hung over the side of a counter, severed at the waist; the pair of legs were clothed and surprisingly unscathed, but the same couldn’t be said above-the-belt. Here the flesh was raggedly torn, like raw meat beneath a toiler.
“What do you see?” Felina asked, stepping forward.
“You don’t wanna know,” Connell replied, rubbing his eyes in a tired manner, withdrawing from the auto-door. “C’mon, Palmer. Call it.”
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