“It stinks,” I commented. The trail of dark-colored slime smelled sweetly rotten, like decomposing flesh.

“They don’t call them Putrefied creatures for nothing,” said Astrid, covering her mouth as she came up behind me. “The creatures become like zombies—horrible. They begin to rot, but it never goes far enough to hinder its ability to move or fight. I’ve only come up against a putrefied creature once before, and it was not a pleasant experience.”

“Sounds charming,” I said grimly as I stood up. “Well, the sooner we tackle it the sooner it’ll be over.” I pointed toward the woods. “That’s the way you saw it go, Selena?”

“That’s the way,” she agreed, staring toward the blackness of the trees.

“Belinda,” asked Astrid, “is that where the psychic signature is coming from?”

The tentacle-haired psycher looked pained. “Yes,” she said, “and it’s close. I suspect it’s coming from one of the Cobra’s victims, rather than the Cobra itself.”

“If there’s someone alive in there, then we’ve no time to lose,” I said. “Come on.”

I led my little party across the road and one by one we climbed the fence. Selena had one of her Glocks in her right hand, and Astrid had extended six-inch knife claws from her left hand. In her right, she cradled her AR-15. Belinda brought up the rear. She was armed only with the medieval-style flail - a wooden truncheon with a spiked ball and chain on the end. It seemed a bit less powerful than the firearms the rest of us were packing, but then I remembered how Belinda had transformed into a black cloud and flayed the very flesh from the soldiers back at the roadblock batte. Just because she had no gun didn’t mean she was not incredibly dangerous.

“Are those guns magitech?” I asked quietly.

Selena shook her head. “Just regular bullets,” she whispered. “Yours?”

I gestured with my gun. “I took this from a PentaTech soldier on our way in. It fires lighting and fireball rounds.”

Selena looked impressed. “PentaTech?” she asked. “You fought PentaTech goons on the way here?”

“Later!” hissed Astrid, who had taken point. “We’re close.”

We had passed the treeline and come into the oppressive darkness of the woods. Astrid had a torch, but she had chosen not to use it. As a lycan, her night vision was excellent, and she led us nearly silently through the trees. We all stopped talking now and moved in single file through the darkness.

We were going slightly uphill, and I noticed that the rotten smell of purification and death which had hung in the air this whole time was getting stronger. After about 15 minutes advancing in this way, Astrid stopped.

“There,” she said, and we all gathered behind her to peer in the direction she was pointing.

It was a cave.

“That’s it?” Selena asked, sounding a bit nervous, “that’s the creature’s lair?”