The dark-haired man typed Anna’s access code into the keypad. The alarm beeped, mechanisms slid, and the glass opened in a huff of oil-scented, pressurised air. Everything inside was slick and pristine, just the way she liked it. She stepped away from the wall now that his attention was elsewhere and pulled at her hands, but nothing was giving, and the restraint just bit harder into her flesh.

He paused on the threshold for the briefest second before stepping into the room.

Behind her, the door at the far end of the lab crashed open. Anna turned as a rangy man hurried into the room, black MP5 held across his chest. His face was blurry with dust and blood, his head clean-shaven apart from a short, scruffy mohican. The backs of his hands were smeared with the yellow slime that appeared to make up eighty-percent of the Scutters.

The rude, dark-haired guy spoke over her shoulder.

“Sawyer. Get in here.”

The tall man nodded, clocking Anna with raised eyebrows. “Garrick, how on earth do you find time to be chatting to ladies?”

Garrick. The rude one was called Garrick. Sawyer jogged past her and winked, deep dimples appearing on his cheeks. Garrick grunted in reply, and as Anna turned, she caught him studying her, his face unreadable. Finally, his assessment was over and he stalked to the back of the armoury, where he started a touch inventory of her equipment with his fingertips.

Sawyer began pulling grey body-plates off the rails. He paused and ran an appreciative hand over the smooth breast of one of her jerkins as he spoke. “Shit’s going on upstairs. Chittrix coming in from all angles. Once the alarm went off, they got all excited like there was a party going on that they were missing.”

“Foster and Hardy?”

“Still upstairs holding them back. There’s another woman too.”

Julia. “Is she okay?” Anna blurted out.

Both looked at her as if they’d forgotten she was there.

“Well?” She did her best to keep the note of annoyance out of her voice, which was ridiculous considering she was standing with her hands cable-tied behind her back.

Sawyer nodded. “She was when I left them.”

Julia is alive. I can find her, and we can still escape. “Untie me. I need to find her.”

Garrick went to exit the room but Anna sidestepped and blocked him. She tugged at her wrist restraints, mentally slapping him in the face.

“I’m speaking to you,” she said.

He sighed. “I’m well aware of that. Can I trust you to behave yourself?”

“Yes.” Depending on what you consider good behaviour.

He stepped behind her, and with one quick motion sliced open the cable tie hurting her wrist. She was acutely aware of the warmth of his body. The heat of him made the hairs on her bare arms stand on end.

The second her hands were free, Anna readied to plant the punch that screamed from the middle of her brain, in giant red letters, NOW.

He caught her wrist mid-air, grinding the small bones of her fingers against each other. God, he was strong. Her knees buckled as pain lanced up her arm. He wasn’t messing. Some small part of her brain acknowledged this was a good thing, given that Scutters and Chittrix were filling the building. The rest of her brain still wanted to knee him in the groin.

“Dr. Ward, we do not have time for this kind of shit.” He raised a reproving eyebrow.

“Fuck you.”

Sawyer laughed from across the room. “How do you persuade them to make such promises?”

“Let go of me.” She wrested her wrist out of Garrick’s grasp. Her skin chilled instantly where his warm fingers had been only moments before.

Coming to stand beside them, Sawyer patted the body armour he’d pulled on, making appreciative noises. He ran his hands along the breastplate again, testing for comfort. “That kook Foster was right. This shit real? Think it’s any good?”

A headache threatened at Anna’s temples. “Of course, it’s fucking good,” she snapped.

Sawyer grimaced. “She work here? Or did you just pick her up en route?”

“Yeah, she works here.” Garrick tugged on a sleeved jacket, securing it across his wide shoulders before strapping on thigh-protection plates. “She designed it, apparently. Sawyer, meet Dr. Anna Ward, Chief Engineer, Biological Weapons.” He nodded in her direction. “Anna, meet Sawyer, cynical badass.”

Garrick skirted Sawyer and planted himself in front of Anna. Intense grey eyes burned into her. Anna glared right back at him. She wasn’t intimidated. “Who else is here apart from your friend?” he asked.

“My colleague Dr. Julia Simmons and Blake King our translator. We’re all that’s left. Blake’s disabled.”

A high-pitched keening from the main door to the lab interrupted them. Scutters poured in through the doorway, their black, shiny bodies tumbling over one another. Anna’s stomach lurched at the pointy, razor-sharp legs skittering and scrabbling for purchase on the slippery tiled floor.

“Let’s collect everyone on the way out,” Garrick said, grabbing Anna by the arm.