Sawyer gripped Julia’s hand. If he let go, it would be because he was dead.

He kicked down toward the sludgy bottom, pain hammering at the base of his skull. The Chittrix had lashed him with its barbed tail, and the water played with the raw edges of his wound.

Dark shapes shifted at the corners of his vision. They only had a few more seconds of advantage. If they were above the surface when the TNT detonated, they were dead. Below the surface, there was a slightly higher chance of survival. Sawyer stopped swimming and floated, sensing the direction of the current. He swam with it, heading toward where the cavern emptied, one hand searching the sediment at the bottom of the basin while his other kept Julia close. Clouds of mud and grit shifted under his touch.

His fingers brushed the edge of a raised lip of metal. Human metal, and it was round.

Finally, something was on their side. Sawyer fumbled for his knife, flicking it open and lodging it in the sealed edge of the drain, so he could pry the lid free. It resisted, the water pressure securing it in place. He forced the blade in deeper.

Something gave.

He worked his fingers into the gap, and finally the cover tore free of its mooring, revealing an opening in the cavern floor. He pulled two re-breathers from his now almost-empty backpack and attached Julia’s first, pressing the plastic firmly against her nose and mouth. Her eyes were wide, her hair framing her face in the current but as processed air filled her lungs her features relaxed a little.

He spun and checked behind them. The water was still clear. He steered her toward the tunnel opening in the ground. Pushing against her back, he directed her down and into the narrow space.

He risked a final glance as he thrust his own feet into the passageway. Only feet away, a Chittrix barreled toward them, its teeth bared in a steely grimace of jagged shards. It flexed at breakneck speed toward them, skirted by three others.

Sawyer ducked into the tunnel and grabbed the grate, sliding it back into position to stall the aliens for a few precious seconds. He glanced at his watch, the second hand inexorably sweeping round. Only seconds left.

He grabbed Julia’s hand and began to swim down the tunnel, away from the already-shifting grate, his legs protesting as he strove for every inch of advantage he could gain over the Chittrix.

Seconds later explosions drove a tsunami of energy through his body, the power of detonation pummeling him from behind. Sawyer squeezed Julia’s hand, his fingers locked around hers. Sound waves ripped at his abused ears in a watery boom that speared hot pain directly into his skull. Agony overwhelmed him, and Julia’s hand was wrenched from his grasp. He somersaulted in disorientating confusion, the world a rushing mess of grey and black that battered his skin.

Exhausted, he curled protectively into a ball and rolled with the current, waiting for it to ease only to collide with solid rock. Shards of pain ricocheted across his spine as he tumbled, spinning out of control into shockingly cold water. It drove the air from his lungs and momentarily immobilized his muscles. His face broke free of the water and he blinked in pale evening light, tearing the re-breather from his mouth and nose. Trees hung over the water, trailing their branches in the bracing flow.

He was in the Thames, above ground.

Julia.

Grey river water rushed past him. He spun, his legs kicking against debris. The choppy water mushroomed, and she surfaced in a violent surge, clawing the re-breather from her face. She was hacking and gasping for air, but she was alive.

He swam one strong stroke and then he was beside her, yanking her shivering body tight against him. She wrapped shaking arms around his around his neck and whispered his name into his ear. Sawyer squeezed his eyes shut muttering thanks for the heat of her firm curves alive in his arms.

* * *

They swam in tandem, aiming for the riverbank. Sawyer sank his fingers gratefully into the thick, sticky mud as he searched for a handhold. Tree roots just under the waterline caught his fingers, providing a safe harbor from the fierce current. He found a foothold on some rocks, precarious, but enough to support him while he boosted Julia out.

“There was one right behind us,” he gasped as he shoved Julia out the water, pushing the small of her back to get her moving.

He risked a glance over his shoulder. The river swirled behind him in lazy drifts.

Julia crawled up the muddy riverbank, holding onto tufts of grass. Sawyer followed, the tussocks of straggling greenery tripping him up at every step.

The wet rattle of a Chittrix trilled behind him.

Sawyer reached instinctively for a weapon, and his stomach sank. His pulse rifle was gone, as was his knife. His hands flattened uselessly against the pockets of his trousers. They were empty.

He had nothing.