Page 4 of Stalker

A plan forms. A stupid, desperate plan, but better than ending up like that poor bastard back there.

I sprint faster toward the narrowing passage. Behind me, the scrape of claws grows louder, accompanied by eager growls. They think they have me trapped.

The gap ahead shrinks to barely half a meter. Here goes nothing.

I turn sideways and squeeze through, my jacket catching on rough metal. The curses and roars behind me say my pursuers won't fit.

But I'm not safe yet. They'll find another way around. I force my burning legs to keep running.

Left, right, another left - the passages blur together in this maze of metal and shadows. The wrench in my pocket bangs against my hip with each step. My lungs burn from running, and my legs feel like lead.

Stupid, stupid decision throwing away my compad. Now I'm completely lost in these maintenance tunnels. The emergency lighting flickers, casting dancing shadows that make every corner look menacing.

A distant roar echoes through the passages. The Grolgath haven't given up.

"Where did the meat go?"

Their guttural voices bounce off the walls. No way to tell how close they are. Or which direction they're coming from.

Another turn and - no. My heart sinks. A solid wall of durasteel towers before me, at least ten feet high. Rust streaks its surface like dried blood in the red emergency lights.

Heavy footsteps thunder closer. The scrape of claws on metal sends shivers down my spine.

"Fresh scent. Close now."

My fingers probe the wall's surface, finding shallow ridges where panels join together. The metal feels slick under my sweating hands. Maybe if I...

I jam my boots into the lowest ridge and haul myself up. The wrench shifts in my pocket, threatening to fall. My arms shake as I reach for the next handhold.

"This way! Heard movement!"

Halfway up. Don't look down. Don't think about falling. The metal groans under my weight.

"See it! Up there!"

My fingers slip on the smooth surface. Heart pounding, I dig them harder into the seam. Just a few more feet...

Claws dig into my ankle. My scream echoes off the metal walls as I'm yanked down. The ground rushes up and pain explodes through my shoulder as I hit the deck.

Rancid breath washes over my face. A massive hand clamps over my mouth, muffling my cries. The Grolgath's scales scrape against my back as he pins my arms.

His partner looms over me, yellow eyes glowing in the dim light. His claws catch on the zipper of my jumpsuit.

"Little college girl." His growl vibrates through my chest. "If you're nice to us, golden-hair, we be nice to you."

Metal teeth part as he drags the zipper down. Cold recycled air hits my exposed skin. I thrash against their grip but it's like fighting durasteel. The wrench digs into my hip, a useless weapon now.

The zipper stops at my navel. Tears blur my vision as rough scales scrape my bare stomach. My heart pounds so hard I think it might burst.

I kick out but the Grolgath just laughs, a wet gurgling sound that makes bile rise in my throat. His partner's claws dig deeper into my face.

"Stop moving, pretty thing. Make this easy."

A massive ebony arm wraps around my attacker's throat. Bone spurs glint red in the emergency lighting. The Grolgath's yellow eyes bulge as his grip on my zipper goes slack.

The crack of his neck splitting apart ricochets through the narrow passage. His body crumples beside me like a discarded puppet.

I stare up at my savior, unable to process what I'm seeing. Red eyes pierce the darkness. White hair frames features that belong in ancient tales of death incarnate.

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