There was a scream of pain and Max jerked, the arms of the giant suit flinging upwards.
“Ellis!” Lara shouted, and suddenly the air was full of voices.
“What’s happening—?” Teape.
“Is he in the suit?” Jess.
“Jesus Christ, can he do that?” Pop. And for once, he sounded truly in awe of another human being. Lara felt the same way, but her amazement was dampened by terror for Ellis—and a pounding, breathless anxiety for the two men in the nest.
“Quiet,” she said, and watched as Max dropped his massive arms and a gout of flame shot out of the right fist, spreading liquid fire across the floor of the deck.
At almost the same time, the left arm rotated back and launched a hail of bullets into the wall of the tropidome.
“…killing me…” Ellis’s soft voice was racked with pain.
“You have to relax,” said Lara, stunned at how even and calm she sounded. “Don’t fight the suit for control. Easy, go easy—”
Max lurched forward and almost fell, the awkward stance not wide enough to support the weight of the suit.
“Don’t try to run! Walk, just—easy, Ellis, you’re doing fine, you’re okay.” The soothing words burbled out from someplace deep inside, instinctual memories from a childhood long gone; she prayed that he could still understand.
The Max took another step, the movement huge and solid. He was in front of the door now, a span of almost two meters in the single step. Another step, and the Berserker tore through the thick steel as though it were paper. Metal shredded in a rending squeal, Max barely slowed by the trifling obstruction.
Lara tapped up the corridor view quickly and felt her throat tighten. Pulaski’s still, bloody form could be seen amidst a pile of drone bodies partway down the dark and smoking hall.
“…Candy—man,” Ellis gasped, and Lara wondered again what the interface was doing to him, how bad the damage would be.
Flickers of black movement farther down the corridor, and suddenly a trio of drones was in sight, screeching and hissing. They ran at Max, drooling, talons snapping to tear at flesh—
—and Ellis raised both arms and fired, bullets and flame stopping the attack in an instant. The three creatures shrieked as one, buried in a wave of fire as the armor-piercing rounds exploded through exoskeletal bodies.
Pop’s voice broke the air silence, his tone wary and almost respectful. “Ellis, can you—can you find Teape?”
“Find… yeah,” said Ellis, and Max took a step forward, then another.
Another drone ran out of the darkness and the Berserker didn’t stop this time, raising the pulse rifle and firing as it moved. The drone screamed, its body riddled with bullets, collapsing into an acid-splashed heap on the deck.
“Good,” Lara said, “that’s good. Increase pressure for more speed.”
“Got it,” said Ellis, and the Max picked up speed with the next step. The corridor deck crunched beneath the giant segmented feet, each footfall like metal thunder.
He rounded the bend in the hallway easily, and another handful of drones shot out of the red shadows, trumpeting shrilly. Max’s flamethrower raised up as the first of the bugs sprang—and landed on the giant arm, grinning.
The burst of fire took out the rest of the drones, their cries of pain quickly silenced as they cooked almost instantly inside their skeletal shells. And then as easily as swatting a fly, Max smashed his arm against the wall, the perched bug’s skull bursting open to splatter acid against the paneling. The crushed drone actually stuck there; the force of the blow had driven its head into the wall.
Max started down the offshoot to the docking bay, and Lara let herself breathe deeply for the first time since Ellis had climbed into the suit.
“You got it now, Ellis,” she said, awed and suddenly hopeful. He could be at the nest inside five minutes; maybe it wasn’t too late.
Jess felt something let go inside, a pent-up rush of bittersweet relief and suppressed fear that flushed his skin and made his trapped limbs shake and sweat.
This was hands down the worst situation he’d ever been in. Even when he’d started the program, before he’d learned anything about surviving the heat, he’d never felt the danger like this. The nest was a terrible, stinking place that hurt his mind to look at, so much more horrible than he could’ve imagined now that he was a soon-to-be host body, helpless and surrounded by death. And knowing that there was no backup, no one coming—that was worse than bad. He’d only mouthed the words of encouragement to Teape, too stricken with fear and a hopeless depression to mean what he’d been saying. He hadn’t felt so lost and afraid since the first days after—after he’d been taken to jail, before he’d known that there could be another chance for someone like him…
And now Ellis is coming, he’s gonna get us OUT!
“Teape, baby, you listenin’? He’s coming! Didya hear it, that crazy kid—”
The words died in his throat as he strained to look at Teape. The point man’s pallid, wet gaze was fixed on the egg in front of him, the thick, fleshy petals settling open even as Jess faltered.
A strange and sickly-familiar smell brushed by but was gone before Jess could place it. The sense of relief was gone, too, swept away by the sight of a glistening, sticky claw that raised up from the pulsing jelly inside the egg.
Max wasn’t going to make it in time. Teape would be implanted and comatose in a minute, maybe two, and there was nothing either of them could do to keep it from happening.
“Teape,” Jess said softly. “I want you to close your eyes, okay? Max is coming, you just gotta close your eyes and he’s gonna be here—”
“No time, Jess—I’m not going to make it, they took my mask and I’m not gonna, I’m gonna die!” Teape’s gaze rolled wildly to look at Jess, burning and bright with panic.
Jess searched for the words that would make it untrue, but there weren’t any. Max wasn’t close enough.
“Okay,” said Jess, sick at heart. He met Teape’s fevered gaze and tried to be strong for him, to say what had to be said. He heard a faint click in his ear and knew that Lara must have turned off the ’com; he thanked her silently, then forced himself to speak.
“Yeah, okay. Just—look at me, Wesley, don’t look at the egg. Look at me and listen, and know what I’m sayin’ is true.”
Teape blinked rapidly, sweat dripping down his desperate face—but he didn’t look away.
“You’re not alone, Wesley. I’m not gonna let you die here alone, do you understand?”
Teape swallowed, his breathing high and fast. “But it’s going to—”
“I know what it’s going to do. It’ll be fast and—then you’ll be asleep, and I’m not going to leave you here to die, you hear me? I’m—I’ll take care of you, do you understand? I swear to you.”
Teape took a deep, shaking breath and then nodded once. “You’ll take care of it,” he whispered.
“Now you close your eyes, just—close your eyes. You’re tired, Wesley, you need to rest. You need to find your peace, deep inside, know that you’re not alone…”
Teape let his lids slide down, still trying to breathe deeply. Jess kept his voice low, gentle, soothing, and calm in spite of the terrible sadness that filled him. He looked at the egg, saw that the face-hugger had pulled itself out. Its long tail slid out behind it. He kept talking.
“…you’re not alone, I’m here, I’m gonna take care of you and you just gotta find some peace in your heart. It’s there, it’s all you need to know…”
“Peace…” whispered Teape, and he wasn’t shaking as bad. His brow had eased, the lines smoothed away.
The face-hugger coiled itself to spring, and Jess closed his own eyes, still speaking gently. “That’s right, Wesley, hold on to it, you’re not alone—”
He winced at the smack of the wet, plated body against flesh and kept talking, hoped that Teape could still hear him.
“I’m gonna take care of you,” he whispered, and when he opened his eyes a moment later, he saw that Teape was gone.
The creature was wrapped tightly around his head, the tail thickly looped around Teape’s neck. He could see one of Teape’s eyes between the hateful, gripping legs, still closed, smooth; he was gone, and he hadn’t struggled at the end.
Jesus, I’m so sorry—
“It’s over,” he said quietly, and suddenly Pop was talking at him, his voice overly loud, somehow intrusive in the soft hissing of the fetid nest.
“Hang on, ground leader! Max is on his way!”
Jess could hear Ellis now, the sounds of approaching fire. There was a terrible screech from off to his right somewhere, loud and echoing in the giant cargo hold. A dank wind washed across him as a stream of howling drones suddenly tore past him, tails whipping, the long bodies bounding past and away.
“Too late for Teape,” Jess whispered, “too damn late—”
He froze, eyes wide and fixed, his mouth dry with sudden terror.
The egg in front of him had opened.