20“Ghouls or squatters?” I snap, all business as I swing the other bag over my shoulder. Zane’s answer, when it comes, turns my stomach to ice.

“Both.”

Slag! A minute later, and we would have been out of here, but ghouls and squatters? There’s no way we can fight both.

Horror suffuses me, momentarily freezing me in place; then my natural resilience kicks in, and I’m off and running for the main entrance, snapping questions as I go.

“Where?”

“The surveillance cameras we hacked picked up two vehicles on the main road headed due east toward the shelter approximately thirty seconds ago.”

“And the ghouls?”

“Tripped force fence grid 16C a heartbeat after.”

Ignoring Merc’s frantic questions as he huffs and puffs at my heels, I pull up a map of the area, with the force fence grid laid over top. The lights of 16C glow red over my hand, already activated just as Zane reported. As I watch, grid 16D suddenly trips, lighting in a series of rapid flickers across my hand. So it’s not just one or two ghouls; it’s a whole shiver. Worse and worse.

I run one finger along the road to the shelter. Based on the location of the camera and the time since the roamers passed it, the squatters are about three minutes out. Assuming the ghouls maintain their speed and trajectory, they should be reaching the shelter at approximately the same time. So we’ve got squatters coming in from the north and ghouls coming in from the west. This is bad. Really bad. We have to get out, and fast. If it were just squatters, we’d have a chance, but ghouls? My mind suddenly flashes to all the tech we discovered below. Maybe we can hold them off . . .

I open a group link to a few key people. “Listen up, everyone! The enemy is on the way, and they’re coming in fast. We’ve got to get out now! Kieran, you and Hegit gather everyone up and get them out the back door as fast as you can. Make for the jungle on the other side of the bridge. Leave some of the supplies if you have to, but get everyone across that bridge!” I barely wait for their affirmatives before continuing, “Jovan, you feel like using those launchers you picked up?”

“Hell, yeah!”

I grin, glad that for all his faults, Jovan’s no coward. “Good. Pick half a dozen of our fastest people, grab your launchers, and meet me up at the main entrance! We’re going to try to hold the enemy off, give the others some additional time to escape.”

“Got it.”

“What about me?” Vida asks.

“Stay or go. Your choice.”

Vida frowns, face pinching in a telltale scowl I know all too well, but before she can say anything, I cut the link.

Turning the corner, Merc and I reach the main entrance just as Jovan’s group rounds the far corner. As they jog down the hall, I quickly catalog the group. Along with Jovan are Trey, Ri, and Zane, a sophomore named Matteo, and—my lips curl into a reluctant grin—Vida. So she came after all. I gave her the choice because I was curious to see what she would do, and strangely enough, I find I’m neither surprised nor disappointed.

The launcher Jovan hands me is longer than my arm and heavy as slag. I draw it up against my shoulder, using the precious seconds it takes for us to clamber into the vestibule to size up its weight and heft. Doubts are assailing me, and my heart is beating like a jackrabbit’s, and more than anything, I wish we had more time—but that’s the one thing we don’t have. My hand flashes red as the ghouls cross the final force fence between us, and I know:

They’re here.

We burst from the shelter just as a shiver of ghouls sweeps into the clearing, heralded by an acrid stench that oozes across the ground directly toward us. I raise my launcher, head twisting wildly back and forth as I struggle to reconcile the empty clearing my eyes see with the thick odor of ghouls in my nostrils. The others are faltering as well, clearly confused by the discrepancies between their senses, and the whole plan looks poised to fall apart. Then Trey lobs something straight into the field in front of us.

White light shoots from the device, and suddenly they’re before us in full color: rainbow-colored shapes, like shimmery oil slicks, dancing through the half-light as it seeps in wan rays across the sky. I freeze, thrown forcibly back in time to the day I stood on the observation deck of New Sol Space Station while clouds of Spectres writhed before my eyes. Back to the day when Lia died . . .

Phthooom! The launcher jerks in my hands, recoiling hard against my shoulder as I let the weapon rip. Five other launchers go off within seconds of mine, sending clouds of gas shooting across the clearing to form a billowing wall between us and the enemy. The ghouls recoil, drawing back from the advancing cloud, just as a pair of law enforcement roamers full of squatters comes rolling in from the other side of the clearing. Slag! Slag, slag, slag! My breath catches, and I wait to see how far the ghouls will back off, wondering if we’ve bought the others enough time. For a moment, they seem to hover in the air, a sickeningly sour-sweet cloud just waiting to pounce . . .

. . . and then, almost as one, the shiver dives directly for the roamers.

Screams peal out from across the clearing, followed by the sounds of launchers as the cops let rip on their incorporeal enemy. My mouth falls open. The cops who’ve arrived haven’t been infected yet! And now, for whatever reason, the ghouls have chosen them over us! It’s a colossal piece of luck, but not one I intend to stand around and watch.

I take off south toward the bridge, the others right on my heels. We reach the gap in the enviro-shield within seconds, sprinting through the door one after the other. Only when everyone is through do I pause to swipe the entrance closed. Anything to slow down those newly made squatters!

“Come on!”

Zane’s summons is accompanied by a hard tug on my arm. Breaking away from the shield, I sprint after him through the forest. Vines tug menacingly against my ankles, and tree branches whip dangerously close to my face, but I don’t dare slow down, though my lungs burn with each breath and my bag slams against my back with bruising force. Up ahead, I can just see Jovan and the others, a blur of shadowy figures moving rapidly through the evanescing light. The lead they gained while I stopped to close the shield widens with every step, and, terrified of getting left behind, I force myself to run harder through the darkened brush.

Something smashes against my ankle, and I go flying. Fire rages through my midsection as I hit the ground hard. Breath torn away on impact, I gulp desperately for air that isn’t there. Once, twice; something pops in my diaphragm, and finally oxygen comes rushing in. I frantically refill my lungs and scramble to my feet. Voices are yelling behind me, followed by the sound of shots ringing out through the humid air, and with a curse, I take off running again. The others are so far ahead now, I can barely see them, but I doggedly keep going, leaping over a slew of buttress roots and dodging some razor vine. More shots ring out, perilously close, and then footsteps come crashing through the brush after me. I dare a quick glance over my shoulder. Two figures charge through the forest after me, still distant but closing in fast.

My steps falter, heart sinking as I realize I’ve just entered a race I can’t win, and that’s when I see the light glowing through the trunks up ahead. Hope blooms anew.

The river!

Finding my rhythm once more, I burst through the trees and onto the bank. The bridge is dead ahead, its cables gleaming softly under the final peaks of sun spreading over the horizon. Energized by the sight, I put on a burst of speed. Rotting boards squeal under my boots as I shoot across the bridge. It sways and swings with every step, tossing me dangerously back and forth, and I throw out a hand to the cable railing beside me.

Tzee!

A sizzling bolt wings past my head—they’re shooting at me!—and I lunge forward, desperately trying to get out of their range of fire. Water sloshes up over my boots as I hit the middle of the bridge, sunken over the years as erosion and corrosion have taken their toll. The boards quiver ominously beneath my feet, and within the black water, I can see the ripple of strange creatures moving over, under, and around the path. A meter away, something large and dark drifts at the edge of my sight. Heart lurching, I sprint forward, relieved when my boots come out of the water and back onto dry boards. Seconds later, I’m staggering onto the opposite bank.

“What happened to you? I looked back, and you were gone!” Zane waves frantically to me, a terrified look in his eyes. “Come on! The others are already moving.”

Ignoring him, I drop my bag to the ground and fling open the flap.

“What are you doing?” Zane cries. “Are you lunar? Let’s go!”

He grabs my shoulder and tries to pull me away, but I yank out of his grasp and shove my arm deep into the bag. My hand fumbles through piles of weaponry—stunners and detonators and ammo carts—but I still can’t find what I’m looking for. On the other side of the bank, the squatters have finally reached the bridge, and I know I’m out of time. I hover at the edge of the river, nearly paralyzed with fear as I try to decide whether to stay or go, and then suddenly my hand closes around something hard and square.

Yes!

Triumph soars through me as I yank the item from my bag. Zane gasps, mouth falling open as he sees what I have.

“Is that a—”

“Yup.”

No time to waste, I activate the demo charge and swipe my chit hand across the panel. The devices pair, and within seconds, a detonation holo rises over my palm. The red light on the charge turns blue. Rising to my feet, I brandish the charge high under the waning sun for all the squatters to see. Then, yanking out the pin, I throw it underhand across the bridge with all my might. I don’t stop to watch as it clacks and thunks across the boards, just grab my bag with one hand and Zane with the other and dive for the trees. With a twist of my wrist, I snap my chit hand shut.

Kaa-booom!

The bridge blows sky high with a thunderclap that shakes the earth. Vibrations slam through my body like a fist punching straight through me and out the other side, and then everything goes numb. Dazed, I slump on the ground in a heap, unable to do anything for the moment except lie there as debris rains down around me on all sides.

I’m not sure how much time passes, but presently I become aware of people around me. Hands roll me over onto my back, and then Vida, Jovan, and Trey all come into view. Their mouths are moving, but they don’t seem to be making any sound. Or maybe I just can’t hear them over the ringing in my ears. Not that I need to. Their horror-struck expressions say it all. I try to summon up the words to assure them I’m okay, but if the words actually make it out, I don’t hear those either.

I struggle to sit up, generously helped by Trey on my left. Glancing to the right, I’m relieved to see Zane moving. He looks about as disoriented as I feel, but otherwise he seems to be okay. Furrowing my forehead, I force myself to focus . . .

The bridge!

Staggering to my feet, I stumble back to the bank. Debris is everywhere—scattered across the shore and floating down the river—but aside from a few flapping cables and a couple of loose boards, the entire bridge has been completely destroyed. Shading my eyes with one shaky hand, I look out across the water. Silhouetted against the setting sun are several figures—the squatters. Of the ghouls, I scent no sign. Despite the fact that my legs feel like jelly and my ears are still ringing, a wave of satisfaction rolls through me. My lips quirk in a crooked grin.

There. Let’s see them follow us now.