Page 26 of Pact with the Alien Devil

Korvan moved with surprising stealth for someone his size, leading us through the ruins. We skirted crumbling walls and ducked under collapsed archways. Twice he stopped suddenly, holding up a hand, and each time I heard the sounds of people passing nearby – hushed voices, the clink of weapons.

We reached what had once been a government building. Now only the foundation and parts of two walls remained. Korvan crouched beside a half-concealed metal hatch.

“Here,” he said, pulling it open to reveal a dark shaft with metal rungs descending into blackness.

I peered down. “You first.”

He gave me a look that might have been amusement, then dropped smoothly into the opening.

The bunker stank of mildew, unwashed bodies, and fear. Dim emergency lighting cast everything in sickly green. We moved through narrow corridors, Korvan navigating the turns with confidence. The walls were marked with blast scorch marks and what looked disturbingly like dried blood.

“How do you know this place?” I whispered.

“The Fangs have operations everywhere. Even war zones.”

“Especially war zones,” I corrected.

After several minutes of walking, Korvan stopped before a sealed door. He entered a code into a battered keypad, and the door slid open with a grinding protest.

Inside, a gaunt man with patchy stubble spun toward us, a plasma pistol clutched in trembling hands. His eyes widened with recognition, then fear.

“You’re here to kill me, aren’t you?” Krenis’s voice cracked. The room around him was filthy, littered with food containers and bedding. A portable console glowed in one corner, surrounded by data chips.

Korvan stepped forward. “That depends on whether you make yourself useful. Who’s the traitor?”

Krenis backed up, pistol wavering between us. “No, no. Not that simple. I need... I need guarantees. Safe passage. Payment. Then we talk.”

“You’re in no position to negotiate,” Korvan said, his voice dropping to a dangerous register that made the hair on my neck stand up.

I watched Krenis’s face, saw the panic rising. This approach wasn’t going to work. The man was terrified—and terrified people made stupid, unpredictable choices.

“Wait,” I said, stepping between them. “You can’t just threaten him. Let me handle this.”

Korvan’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t stop me.

I turned to Krenis, keeping my hands visible. “Look, we just want information. You give us what we need, we’re gone. Nobody gets hurt.”

Krenis’s eyes darted between us. “You don’t understand. If I talk... if they find out I talked...”

“We can protect you,” I said.

“No one can protect me from them!”

“Who’s ‘them’?” I asked.

Korvan grabbed my arm, pulling me back. “This isn’t your fight, Iria. You don’t understand what’s at stake.”

I yanked my arm free, stepping closer to him, my voice low. “Maybe I don’t. But I know you’re not getting what you want by scaring him to death.”

We stood face to face, barely inches apart. I felt his breath on my skin, warm and surprisingly sweet. His expression shifted, anger giving way to something else as his eyes dropped briefly to my mouth.

The room suddenly felt too small, too hot. I should step back. I should look away. I should?—

“Wait!” Krenis yelled. “I’ll talk!”

The standoff had clearly pushed him to a breaking point. He looked between us, calculating his odds. Whatever he feared about the repercussions of talking, he’d realized being on the run from the Fangs forever was worse.

“There’s a data chip,” he said nervously. “In the console. It has names, dates, communications. Everything you need.”

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