Garrick took the lead, striding towards the wave of Scutters. The entrance to the lab was an organic, seething mass of insect carapaces and jointed legs that jerked and hummed with an intensity that crawled its way into his skull, driving him crazy.

Rein in the anger. It doesn’t help.

He unhooked his machete, hefting it in his hand. He was ready for the little bastards. Beside him, Sawyer checked his MP5. Above Garrick’s head, there were still echoes of pandemonium on the ground floor. A knot tightened in his stomach. Sawyer, Foster, and Hardy were now his team, and he’d go to hell and back to bring them out of this.

And the belligerent scientist? He took a final glance over his shoulder. Anna was behind him, strapping on body armour with a speed that belied her loveliness. She pulled the straps tight without hesitation, even as her blue eyes were wide with fear. Her mouth was set in a thin line of determination as she lifted a pulse rifle from behind a desk and hefted a grey backpack onto her shoulders.

He picked up her dropped SIG and handed it to her. “Ready?”

She nodded and pushed a stray strand of golden hair behind her ear and readjusted the armour plates on her thighs. Her features were fixed and serious.

Garrick took the first swing, wading without hesitation into the throbbing sea of Scutters. He lifted the blade and began to slash and cut a path to the door ten feet away. Sawyer shouted above the chittering insects, annihilating black, shiny bodies left and right. Yellow liquid burst from shattered exoskeletons in viscous gobs that stuck to Garrick’s limbs in a sour rain. Anna was right behind him, firing at the Scutters circling them to the rear, her body bumping up against Garrick’s every few moments as they moved in a slow ballet of killing. The contact with her reassured him.

What was that about? Focus on getting out of here in one piece, Garrick.

At the door, the throng of Scutters eased a little as most had already rammed their spiny bodies into the lab. Garrick risked a glance of grim satisfaction over the top of Anna’s head at the disembowelled mess of dead corpses behind them.

Sawyer headed out the lab and carved a path through the remaining Scutters on the stairs. Garrick and Anna followed, working in sync towards the upper flights where the scorpion-like aliens thinned in intensity, Garrick slashed and cut as Sawyer and Anna fired their weapons repeatedly.

His back was to her when a barely audible grunt alerted him and the high-pitched keening of the Scutters escalated. He turned instantly. Anna was sprawled on the steps below him, her hands raised in a defensive gesture across her face. He reached down without hesitation, his fingers closing over hers. Grabbing her hot hand, he pulled hard, popping her out of the seething mass like a cork from a bottle.

She lurched upwards, Scutters falling from her body in a convulsing wave. Her feet landed on the step beside him. Garrick leaned forward and swiped two remaining Scutters from her back, their stings rattling in a futile attempt to penetrate her body armour. She was panting, and her breath warm on his face sent an unexpected flutter of sensation into the pit of his belly. It pulled him up short, and he hesitated, his face only inches from hers.

“Still here,” she said. “Don’t worry about me.”

* * *

By the time they had climbed another two flights, the floor was clear of Scutters, and they paused for a few seconds to catch their breath and wipe the ochre Scutter gunk from their arms. Garrick swept his hand across his chest. The armour was smooth and unmarked. He’d never seen anything like it. Scutters and Chittrix normally shredded standard body armour, limiting its life to two excursions at the most.

Anna was staring at him with a “told you so” look on her face.

“We need to take this kit back to base,” he admitted.

Sawyer grunted. “Yeah, once we’ve dealt with the party upstairs.” He jerked his head in the direction above where the commotion of battle raged on.

Garrick jabbed a finger at Anna. “You. Stay between me and Sawyer.”

She raised her eyebrows briefly but shifted behind him. Feisty but not stupid. I like that.

Without waiting for a smart reply, he took the stairs two at a time, fuelled by the knowledge they were equipped with something that could really change how they fought with the Chittrix.

* * *

The fire door at the top of the access stairs was closed. Garrick hit the door side on, barreling through and causing it to crack against the internal wall with an enormous clatter. He took in the scene of chaos in one quick glance. Hardy and a chestnut-haired woman were to his left, back-to-back as an army of Chittrix crawled down the walls of the shattered glass atrium above their heads.

God, there was so many of them. Where in hell’s name had they all come from?

Shadowy Chittrix forms danced along the walls and above their heads, turning the air dark.

“Julia!” Anna shouted behind him, causing the chestnut-haired woman to turn, eyes wide with fear. A small knot of anxiety gnawed in Garrick’s belly. He couldn’t remember ever seeing so many Chittrix and Scutters in one place since the initial invasion. This was insane. Where was Foster? He touched his earpiece to make contact.

“Foster? You out there?”

“Fuck, yes,” the tinny voice yelled in his ear, above the maelstrom of battle. “I’m going—” The radio hissed and crackled, swamping Foster’s reply.

Sawyer stepped in front of him, scything bugs to pieces in a hail of bullets, spittle flying from his mouth as he roared a battle cry. Garrick turned and sliced at a Chittrix fast approaching him, its middle talons snapping in anticipation. He aimed low for the tender underbelly where the abdomen separated from the legs. It shrieked and lashed out, talons bouncing off his protective armour. He powered forward, and with his free left hand, he reached behind him for Anna, his fingers closing on the edge of her jerkin, making sure she didn’t get lost in the melee.

We can make this.

The alien hum in the air suddenly changed, a shift in intensity that echoed through the nerves in his teeth. They’re changing tactics.

An entire wave of Scutters that had been gathering fury on the walls and ceiling above them let go en masse, filling the air in every direction.

Anna.

Garrick turned and grabbed her hand, tilting her rifle so she wouldn’t shoot herself as he shoved her out the way of the hellish insect rain. He knocked her against the side of the atrium where a large reception desk gave some shelter. She stumbled, righted herself, and then rolled underneath the desk, coming to rest on her hands and knees. Garrick dived after her as Sawyer lunged towards a broken fire door hanging off its hinges, sunlight streaming innocently through the gap.

Garrick covered Anna with his body as Scutters landed on his back, talons searching for any weakness.

“Anna, listen to me—”

White-hot, intense heat blasted through the entire atrium, scorching the air above their heads. Garrick pushed Anna’s head close to his chest, putting his hand over her mouth to stop the air from incinerating her lungs. The world was blessedly silent from the noise of the Chittrix for a few moments. Then his ears were ringing from the aftershock, pain lancing through his eyes and making him wince. Garrick coughed and heaved as he inhaled hot dirt and grime.

Need to speak to Foster about some kind of warning system in the future.

He half-crawled, half-stumbled to his feet, pulling Anna up with him. She staggered against him, wiping hair thick with dust from her eyes. At their feet, the floor was a mass of obliterated insectoid alien life forms. Small parts still fell haphazardly in an excruciating, wet spatter from high in the atrium.

“Julia? Where’s Julia?” Anna’s question was high-pitched with panic.