Page 40 of Rupture

Rose’s face was ashen in the wash of his light, perspiration dotting her forehead. She jabbed toward the counter with a shaky finger, to the darkness underneath.

Finn swept his light over the far wall, confirming his fear. A shattered glass container lay on the floor, yellow liquid congealing in a viscous puddle.

He adjusted his stance, rising slowly, guiding Rose with him, positioning himself between her and whatever lurked beneath the counter. “What say we get the hell out of here?”

Her grip on his arm loosened slightly, but didn’t break. “Lead the way,” she whispered.

Finn retreated one pace. Two.

His flashlight beam caught the electronic lock’s sleek panel.Crap.The display was dark, lifeless.

No power. No exit.

He rattled the handle anyway but the door remained stubbornly shut.

He tapped his earpiece, his light trained on the dark sliver under the counter. “This is Finn. Anyone copy?”

Nothing. Just dead air.

Movement.

Finn stepped in front of Rose, bumping up against a lab stool in the oppressive darkness.

A dark shadow skittered out from under the counter, launching upward.

His heart lurched as he raised his gun instinctively. He fired twice, the muzzle flashes briefly carving a jagged nightmare into sharp relief.

He stepped back, his heel catching on a stool, throwing him off balance. His hand hit a counter and the gun flew from his grip. It skidded away from him as he hit the ground with a thud that knocked the air from his lungs.

Rose screamed. “Finn!”

He scrambled to his feet and snatched the stool, swinging it in a desperate arc. Metal legs met carapace with a deafening crack, sending the creature flying off course. It hit the ground with a harsh, chitinous crunch, pincers snapping furiously.

A scorpion. Massive, grotesque. Ripples of silver luminescence pulsed down its spine like a heartbeat.

Finn brought the stool down with all he had, smashing it against the creature’s armored back.

The stool bounced like it had hit solid rock. The scorpion barely flinched. Its barbed tail lashed upward, missing his wrist by inches.

The creature swerved, bolting toward Rose, venomous tail arched high, poised to strike.

“Rose.Back!”

He hurled the stool. It slammed into the scorpion, sending it careening against the far wall. The impactcracked tiles, but the creature recovered instantly, legs scrabbling as it vanished under the counter.

He unslung his pulse rifle. His hands were steady, his breathing anything but.

The scorpion exploded from the shadows, glowing silver, its jagged movements painting fractured light across the walls. It zigzagged toward him with impossible speed.

He fired. The pulse seared past, scorching the floor.

Fuck, it’s fast.

The second shot ricocheted off a counter.

The third found its mark, hitting dead center.

The pulse of energy rippled across the creature’s curved exoskeleton, its luminescence flaring to a blinding silver.

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