Our fellow Hunter on the edge of the balcony, hanging over the dance floor. His arms had been extended and lashed down to the metal handrails with extension cords. His shaved head was stained red, hanging down, chin against his chest. His MHI-issued armor had been rent open in places and was soaked with blood. His legs were dangling in space. I realized with a shock that one of his feet was missing, and blood was drizzling from the stump. What the hell had done that?

The mangled Hunter stirred, lifting his head weakly for only a moment before letting it loll forward. “He’s alive.” Green’s lips moved as he said something, but we couldn’t hear him over the music.

“We’ve got to get him.” Trip began moving, but I reached out and grabbed him by the armor.

“It’s a trap.” I pointed at the fog.

Trip had to shout in my ear to be heard over the noise. “We can’t leave him. He’s bleeding out.”

“I know.” We had to move fast. I scanned the fog. I couldn’t see anything, but there was a knot of dread in my stomach. It was waiting for us. I knew it. But if we didn’t tourniquet that leg soon, Green was done for. It might already be too late, but we had to try. There were three sets of circular stairs to the next level. Two close, one on each side, only thirty feet away. There was a third at the far end, near where Green was suspended. “Follow me. Watch the floor.”

The fog parted around our boots and drifted up to our waists. The room was unnaturally cold, but nothing came out of the floor to murder us. We reached the stairs and started climbing, but we had been so intent on something hiding on the floor that we hadn’t expected a threat to drop from the tangle of cables and scaffolding near the ceiling. I caught a glimpse of tattered fabric fluttering in the black light as it leapt from its perch. Abomination rose and I was able to fire a single round before the thing hit the stairs.

It was like having a blanket thrown over my head. I was engulfed in darkness. Multiple hard limbs swatted and thrashed around me. It might have been making a noise, I don’t know, the music was so loud I could barely hear myself. I tried to shove it away so I could turn my shotgun against it, but it threw itself against me. Something cold and metallic scraped against my face, and then jabbed hard into my neck guard, trying to pierce my throat. I lashed out, but it was like punching a sheet hanging from a clothesline. It hit me back, and beneath that snapping piece of fabric was something as hard as an iron bar.