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.
Something metal flashed.
His knife.
The creature swung its arm again, but Brice was ready this time. He used the momentum, twisting with the creature. He screamed as he powered his arm down, his vision filled with the back of the creature’s neck.
It wailed, far louder than Brice believed could be possible. It spun violently, and Brice no longer had a grip on anything. He crashed down hard, and the air exploded out of his lungs.
The creature writhed, staggering on its feet. It crashed into the storage units, and bellowed even louder. It twisted its arms round, trying to reach behind its head.
Trying to grab the knife stuck hilt-deep in its neck.
Light burst into Brice’s vision, and Ryann saw standing, a torch in each hand. The beams of light criss-crossed the room, following the frenzied creature.
“Get more torches!” she yelled.
There were a couple close by, and Brice grabbed them. He rose, swaying, to his feet, and thumbed the torch controls. He ignored the pain tearing down his arm, and the tightness in his chest. He ignored everything but the creature and the wonderful sol light.
The beast fell and rolled onto its back. Brice aimed a beam at the thing’s face, into those cold orbs. The creature buckled, legs kicking out and arms flailing. The stench of burning rose in steam, the mass of movement sending it up in angry bursts that hit Brice. They made his eyes water and his throat itch. But he kept the beams of light steady. He held them trained on the creature, sol eating away at its flesh.
Then the flailing became twitching, and the creature pulled its arms in tight to its chest. It curled into a foetal ball. Where the light hit its back, blisters popped, spraying translucent liquid in a fine mist that mixed with the steam. There was no blood, but the creature’s hide ran semi-fluid now, oozing towards the floor.
And then the screaming stopped, and the blackened mass of the creature lay still.
Only then did Brice give in to his body’s demands, and allow himself to collapse.
The smell reminded Ryann of her parents’ farm, when they had to get rid of diseased animals. She’d cried then, too, even though she knew it needed to be done.
The torches were heavy in her hands, and she placed them by her feet. She made sure they were powered down first, though. It was important to do things properly.
Then, and only then, did she take in the room. It was important to analyse any situation as soon as the adrenaline began to fade.
She recorded, unwilling to fully trust her memory. She pulled up filters, and saw heat swirl in the room. The source was the charred mess, although it was already cooling, and a dark residue spread out beneath it. Like burning plastic, she thought, like something unreal.
Brice sat next to the remains, his head in his hands but his breathing steady. Blood coated a sleeve of his jacket, pooling and dripping from the elbow.
She didn’t even try to reach his lattice, and it struck her just what he had achieved. Dark, without enhancements, yet he had taken on one of the creatures. And he’d survived. Ryan felt both humbled and proud.
Cathal always said the lad had potential.
“You okay?” she asked, and he turned to her, his face drained of emotion. But he nodded, and that was enough. He appeared younger, but maybe that was down to the way the light in the room suddenly grew brighter.
<Keelin?> Ryan called.
<Here.>
<You got control of the Proteus then?>
<Thought it best. Letting it run on auto while I fix the power.> Her words were cheerful, but her tone was worn out, and Ryann imagined the smile on the girl’s face would be painful to hold.
<Any joy?>
<Think I can see the problem. I’ll keep you informed.>
That would keep Keelin occupied. If she had a focus, she wouldn’t dwell on what they’d been through.
<Thanks.>
Ryann looked through the open door to the bridge, but from this angle she couldn’t see the pilot’s position. But she did see Nyle’s body, blocking the doorway.
She reached out for him as her eyes examined the wound, so like Cathal’s.
“Brice, grab a medi-kit.” She knelt beside the pilot, pressing a hand to the back of his neck to forge a stronger connection. He was warm, and energy coursed through his lattice. She had expected that.
“Here.” Brice placed the medi-kit down and crouched next to her. She noted the grunt of exhaustion as he did so. “Anything I can do?”
She took a breath. He’d done so much already.
“Syringe,” she said. “Labelled ‘Cleanse A-6’. Then I’ll need a pad. Largest you can find. Thanks.”
She heard him rummaging through the kit, and she thought back to when she’d treated Cathal’s wound in the cave. Only a few hours ago, yet it felt like an age had passed. She was older now, wearied yet wiser.
Brice handed her the needle-less syringe, and she readied it, knowing what was to come. She cleaned his wound, letting his limbs flail, knowing the spasms would pass. As she placed the pad over his wound, fastening it with the sealing strips, she imagined his skin changing, and his whole body becoming something else. She breathed in the trace of the aroma that would grow stronger as the disease took control of his body.
They’d have to find a blanket to cover him
